#Ben Shelton

[bennyaddict]

Ben shoots for Vogue

[bennyboyfics]

Protective/jealous Ben sees a guy flirting with his girlfriend at a party and he approaches them... You can take it from there queen 🫵🏽

Acapulco White Party || Ben Shelton x gf!reader

A/n: sorry this took awhile!

Wc: 822

Warnings: slightly suggestive? jealous Ben heheh

MASTERLIST

-

The Acapulco White Party was in full swing, the warm coastal air thick with the scent of salt and expensive cologne. Laughter and music swirled around the lavish beachfront venue, guests draped in crisp white attire, sipping cocktails under the glow of string lights. It was an exclusive, glamorous affair—one of those nights where indulgence reigned.

And Ben Shelton was in a good mood. Or at least, he had been. He’d left you alone for maybe—maybe—ten minutes to grab you both drinks, exchanging easy conversation with a couple of his fellow players near the bar. But when he turned back, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd for you, he saw him.

Some guy—some tanned, smirking, overly confident guy—leaning a little too close, his hand hovering just a little too low on your waist, eyes gleaming as he spoke to you. You weren’t entertaining him, not really—you were too polite for your own good, offering a tight smile, shifting your weight as if you weren’t sure how to brush him off without causing a scene.

But Ben saw the way the guy was looking at you. Saw the way his gaze dragged down your body, drinking in the way your white corset hugged your curves, how the silky long skirt flowed effortlessly around your hips, the thigh-high slit teasing glimpses of smooth, golden skin. And that was enough to make Ben’s blood run hot.

His jaw tightened. His grip around the glasses in his hands turned white-knuckled. Alright. He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and then—just to make sure this idiot knew exactly what was about to happen—he smirked. He cut through the crowd with easy confidence, his stride unhurried, cocky, his crisp white linen shirt hanging open over his toned chest.

And when he reached you, he didn’t say a word at first. Just handed you your drink, his other hand slipping possessively around your waist, fingers splayed over the curve of your hip. “You okay, baby?” he murmured, voice low and smooth, meant only for you—but loud enough that the guy heard every single syllable. You blinked up at him, relief flashing across your face before you smothered it.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Just—” Ben didn’t give you a chance to finish. Instead, he turned to the guy, smile slow and sharp, a lazy kind of amusement in his gaze. “You know,” he mused, voice dripping with something smug, “I was only gone for a couple minutes. And here I thought she’d at least last fifteen before someone tried their luck.” The guy bristled. “I wasn’t—”

Ben just laughed, all low and rumbling in his chest. Then, as if he was completely unaware of the other man’s presence, he turned back to you. “Missed you, though,” he murmured, fingers tightening at your waist as he tugged you flush against him. His nose brushed along your temple, his breath warm against your skin.

“You look so fuckin’ good tonight, baby. Hard to leave you alone when you’re wearin’ somethin’ like this.” His hand slid down, just slightly, just enough to tease the sensitive skin at the small of your back. You let out a quiet, surprised breath, your fingers curling around his bicep. “Ben,” you started, your voice somewhere between admonishment and something softer, something breathless.

But he just grinned against your temple, his lips grazing your skin in a way that wasn’t quite a kiss, wasn’t quite not a kiss either. His fingers traced the slit of your dress, knuckles brushing along the bare skin of your thigh. The guy shifted awkwardly. “I should—” Ben didn’t even look at him. “Yeah,” he said absently, his focus entirely on you. His fingers curled at your waist, squeezing just slightly.

“You should.” The guy got the hint. You waited until he was gone before you turned in Ben’s arms, giving him a pointed look. “Was that necessary?” Ben just grinned, all lazy, smug, completely unrepentant. “Absolutely.” Then, before you could argue, his fingers tilted your chin up, and he kissed you—slow and deep, possessive, like he wanted people to see.

Like he wanted there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind that you were his.

[songganna]

Ben Shelton x Jack Draper for Vogue ✨

[mycaptainstar]

Dude you wouldn't understand how much I love this guy

ben shelton's reaction to beating flavio cobolli for the first time

[lifeofpriya]

please can you post the us vogue interview from jack draper x

you got it! all credits go to Alexis Okeowo and Corey Seymour for Vogue and you can find the interviews below the keep reading [i included Ben's interview too in case people were also interested reading his along with Jack's]

[celebpits]

[eroshaven]

[000rrx]

[nerdymakertimemachine]

[gaybuckybarnesss]

BEN SHELTON Australian Open 2025

[bennyboyfics]

I know i requested something similar with reader loving bens arms but could you do something in reverse with ben always touching reader (i was thinking ass) but you can do whatever you are comfortable with.

Love yooooou ❤️

Hands on || Ben Shelton x gf!reader

A/n: hehehe I loved writing this

Wc: 895

Warnings: touchyyyy

MASTERLIST

-

Ben is obsessed with your body. More specifically, the contrast between you and him—how much smaller you are, how easily you fit against him, how his hands wrap around your waist like they were made for it. It’s something you notice early on, how often his hands find their way to your waist, gripping, squeezing, sometimes just resting there as if to remind himself that you’re his.

It doesn’t matter if you’re alone or in public—Ben has never been the type to keep his affection subtle. “Goddamn,” he mutters under his breath when you walk past him in a pair of leggings that leave nothing to the imagination. His large hands catch your waist, pulling you back against his chest. “You know I can’t concentrate when you walk around lookin’ like this.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I thought you were watching a movie?” “I was. And then I got distracted.” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the back of your neck as his hands slide further down, palms pressing against the curve of your ass. His thumbs stroke over the fabric teasingly, his breath warm against your skin.

“Ben,” you warn, but you don’t move away. “What?” he grins, hands tightening for a quick squeeze before he lets you go. “Can’t help it. You know how I am.” Oh, you do. Because it’s not just when you’re at home. At dinner with his friends, he keeps his arm draped lazily around your chair, but his hand rests firmly on your hip, thumb grazing just beneath the hem of your dress.

When you shift in your seat, his grip tightens, a silent way of saying stay right there, baby. At the grocery store, you’re reaching for something on the top shelf when he comes up behind you, one hand landing on your ass as he stretches past you for the item instead. “Told you, you don’t gotta do all that reachin’ when I’m here,” he teases, squeezing once before dropping the item in the cart.

Even when you’re just walking together, his hands are always on you. One arm slung over your shoulder, palm warm and firm against your waist, sometimes slipping down just far enough to test the boundary of what’s appropriate in public. And if there’s a moment where he thinks no one’s looking? You feel the quick, possessive grab that makes you glare at him while he just smirks.

“You’re shameless.” “‘Course I am,” he says, leaning down to murmur in your ear, voice thick with affection. “But only for you, baby.”

-

Ben’s hands are all over you. It’s not surprising, but it’s definitely not ideal given that you’re standing in the middle of a tournament venue, surrounded by cameras and reporters. You’re supposed to be supporting him, looking like the composed, doting girlfriend while he warms up for his match. Instead, you’re trying to pry his massive hands off your ass.

“Ben,” you hiss under your breath, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. “What?” he murmurs, lips grazing the shell of your ear as he tugs you closer. His large hands spread across your waist, fingers sinking into the soft curve of your hips before they slide down, resting right where they shouldn’t be. “Missed you, that’s all.”

“You saw me this morning,” you remind him, trying to keep your expression neutral because you can feel at least three cameras pointed in your direction. “Yeah, but I wasn’t allowed to do this,” he hums, squeezing shamelessly. You suck in a sharp breath and glance around, hoping no one’s caught on to what he’s doing. “Baby, T here’s cameras everywhere,” you whisper, trying to sound firm even as warmth spreads up your neck.

“So?” He grins, looking completely unbothered. “Let ‘em take pictures. Maybe they’ll finally get my best angle.” You shove at his chest, but it’s like trying to move a brick wall. “Your best angle is on the court, not getting caught groping me in public.” Ben chuckles, low and amused, but he finally (reluctantly) lets his hands slide back up to your waist. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave,” he says, even though you don’t believe him for a second.

And you’re right. Because later, when he’s walking off the court after securing a win, drenched in sweat and riding the high of victory, he spots you waiting in the players’ box. He doesn’t even think twice before reaching for you, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you in for a tight hug—except his hands immediately find their way to your ass again, gripping like it’s instinct.

“Ben,” you gasp, but he just grins against your temple, utterly shameless. “You know I can’t help it, baby.”

[songganna]

Ben Shelton x Vogue 🤎

[fairie-bread]

mr shelton unfortunately u have become the latest victim of my pookification beam

[bennyaddict]

Golden moment

[dewisnation]

Laver cup immediately giving us dumb and dumber (affectionate) as a doubles pair is the kind of content I tune in for

[channelslam]

😁✌️ twins 😁✌️