#Tommy Paul

[bennyboyfics]

Can you write a fic about ben having dinner with Tommy and his circle of friends and you being there too because your friends with Paige and you and Ben hit it off straight away

Smitten || Ben Shelton xfem!reader

A/n: I love this idea!!

Wc: 1,631

Warnings: none ;)

MASTERLIST

-

There’s a low hum of conversation in the dining room, the clink of glasses and easy laughter floating through the open kitchen where Paige moves gracefully between the stove and the counter. Outside, the sun is starting to dip below the horizon, casting a soft amber glow over her backyard in Florida.

Tommy’s voice carries over the chatter—boisterous, teasing, perfectly at ease with his circle of close friends: Reilly, Frances, Taylor, and Ben. Paige’s phone buzzes on the counter, and she wipes her hands on a dish towel before picking it up. A small smile curls at her lips. “She here?” Tommy questions when he sees Paige smile

“She is,” she says with a hint of excitement as she walks toward the hallway. At the table, Ben, who’s laughing at something Frances just said about his latest post-match outfit, looks towards the hallway. He doesn’t know much about you—just what Tommy’s casually mentioned in passing. Old friend. Knows all of them, close with Paige.

Lived in Connecticut for a bit, just moved back. Cute, chill. Ben hadn’t thought much of it—until now. The moment Paige opens the door and greets you, your voice carries through the hallway, warm and unmistakably you. A bit breathless, apologetic in that effortless way that makes everyone forgive you before you even finish your sentence.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I got caught up in a meeting—” “Y/n, you’re fine,” Paige says, laughing as she hugs you tightly. “Everyone’s here. Come in.” You walk into the dining room with a natural sort of glow about you—confidence without arrogance, warmth without effort. And Ben feels it immediately. The jolt. Like someone dropped a stone into his stomach and it rippled through his chest.

You. You’re wearing something simple, casual, but you make it look good—hair slightly tousled, lip gloss shining under the lights. As you scan the table and break into a wide smile, Ben forgets to breathe for a second. “Heyyy,” you say, grinning as you make your way around the table, greeting everyone with easy familiarity. “Y/n,” Reilly drawls, getting up to hug you, towering over you with his usual dramatic flair.

“Finally decided to show up.” “Nice to see you too, giraffe,” you shoot back playfully, hugging Frances next. “You still hate me for beating you at pool that one night?” Frances asks, grinning. “No,” you reply sweetly. “I hate you because you cheated and you know it.” Laughter erupts, and you continue down the table, giving Taylor a quick squeeze and Tommy a hug before turning to Ben.

You pause, just for a second—not out of hesitation, but recognition. He’s the only one you don’t know well, not personally anyway. You’ve seen him around tournaments, followed his rise, heard about him from Tommy and Paige. Ben stands a little too fast. “Hey,” you say, stepping in with a smile, arms going around him lightly.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Ben isn’t expecting the hug. He’s even less prepared for how good you smell, how soft you feel pressed against him for those brief two seconds. His arms come up automatically, a little stiff at first, then relaxing just as you pull away Your smile is dazzling up close, and now he’s 100% sure he’s red.

“I—uh. Yeah. You too.” His voice cracks slightly. Frances snorts. “Oh my God,” Taylor mutters with a grin, catching the blush rising up Ben’s neck. “Dude,” Frances laughs, “you good?” Ben runs a hand through his curls, ducking his head. “Shut up.” You just laugh it off, not missing the way Ben’s eyes linger a second longer than the rest. You give him a little smile before slipping off your coat.

“I brought wine,” you say, holding up a bottle and handing it to Paige. “Not sure if it pairs with whatever we’re making, but it was pretty.” “Perfect,” Paige grins. “Come help me in the kitchen.” As the table resumes their chatter and Ben’s friends move on to another topic—likely something that involves trash-talking each other’s tennis techniques—you follow Paige into the kitchen.

“Okay,” Paige says, opening a cabinet, “we’re doing grilled lemon herb chicken, roasted veggies, and this fancy couscous thing Tommy begged for. Want to help chop?” “Thought you’d never ask.” You tie on an apron and fall into step beside her. The kitchen buzzes with quiet movement: knives on cutting boards, the soft sizzle of garlic on the stove, music playing low from the speaker tucked into the corner.

“So,” Paige says casually after a moment, slicing into a red pepper, “Ben’s cute, right?” You pause, one eyebrow raised. “That was subtle, P.” She shrugs. “Just asking.” You glance through the kitchen opening toward the table where the guys are laughing over something again. Ben’s turned slightly in his chair, one arm thrown over the back, and his eyes drift toward the kitchen more than once.

“He’s definitely cute,” you admit, turning back to your chopping. “Tall. Sweet. Seemed a little shy, though.” “He’s not usually. Not like that.” Paige grins. “You flustered him.” You try not to smile, but you can’t help it. Just then, as if summoned by your thoughts, a soft knock sounds on the wall, and Ben steps into the kitchen.

His curls are a little messier now, his cheeks not quite as red as before, but still a faint tint lingers. “Hey,” he says, looking between you and Paige. “Need an extra hand?” Paige glances at you, then back at him. “Actually… I think Y/n’s got it covered.” She gives you a look, then heads toward the door. “I’m gonna go check on the boys.” You shoot her a look as she slips out, leaving you alone with Ben.

He walks closer, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Didn’t mean to crash the kitchen party.” “You’re good,” you say, offering him a piece of chopped cucumber from the board. He takes it without hesitation, brushing your fingers slightly. “So…” he starts, then hesitates. “I feel like I should’ve said something cooler when you walked in.

You laugh softly, leaning against the counter. “You were fine.” “I just wasn’t expecting you to be… you know. You.” You tilt your head. “Is that a compliment or…” “Definitely a compliment,” he says quickly, eyes wide. “Like—Tommy mentioned you a couple times, but he didn’t do you justice.” You blink, a little surprised by the honesty.

“That’s… really sweet, actually.” Ben shifts a little closer, resting one hand on the counter beside you, close but not touching. “So, how do you know Tommy again?” “We met at a charity event a few years ago,” you explain. “Mutual friends, ended up hitting it off. He’s like a brother now. Same with Paige.” He nods. “Cool. That’s cool.”

You smile at the awkward repetition, and something about it makes your stomach twist—in a good way. “You’re not from Florida though, right?”“Nantucket originally,” you say. “But I’ve been bouncing around for work. Just moved back east.”“Think you’ll stay?” You shrug. “Maybe. Depends on what life throws at me.”

Ben studies you for a beat, then says, “Hope it throws you this way more often.” You glance up at him, surprised again. He’s still got that relaxed posture, but his eyes—those golden brown eyes—are watching you intently now. The flirty undertone in his voice is unmistakable, but there’s a gentleness there too, something genuine.

You pick up a lemon and roll it across the counter, fingers brushing his hand as you reach for the grater. “I’d like that,” you murmur. There’s a small silence, not uncomfortable, just full—charged with something unspoken. Then, he leans in slightly. “Can I help with anything? Actually help this time.”You hand him a wooden spoon and point to the pan.

“Stir that before it burns.” He does, falling into rhythm beside you, bumping your shoulder lightly with his. You glance over. “This how you flirt? Offering to stir my couscous?” Ben grins, wide and unfiltered. “Only for the important people.” By the time dinner is served, the air around you two has shifted. The others notice, of course—they’re not subtle.

Frances makes a dramatic toast. “To love at first sight and the couscous that brought them together.” Reilly snorts into his wine. Taylor just raises an eyebrow, and Paige shoots you a smug little smirk across the table. Ben, to his credit, takes the teasing in stride, grinning at you like he’s glad it’s obvious. And you… well, you’re pretty glad too.

[fritzes]

2024 tennis season in memes

I was gonna wait until after bjk cup and davis cup but eh whatever the season is basically over

[silentsialia]

Out of all the master's tournaments I think Indian Wells puts out the best content

[cocopufffss]

rlly tommy paul

[channelslam]

THIS IS SO 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[carlitosalcaritos]

Grigor ‘gotta catch ‘em all’ Dimitrov collecting boyfriends in 2024.

[bluespring864]

Grigor Dimitrov and Tommy Paul after the 2024 Stockholm Open final. Or: How to make the trophy ceremony look like a wedding ceremony. A ten second guide by Grigor Dimitrov.

Bonus: Some 'honeymoon moments' under the cut :D

Bonus 1: Grigor's reaction when Thomas Enqvist said "A few words to our amazing finalist[s]" with a pretty much inaudible 's' and then congratulated Tommy first and Grigor felt left out. Or maybe he thought for a second Thomas had mixed up the runner-up and the winner

Bonus 2: Grigor immediately pointing to Tommy when Thomas said "This final was amazing."

[oceanblue2025]

04.24.2025 | Tommy Paul

[rolandkaros]

tennis players as tweets pt. 3 [1][2]

[imperial-everything]

Tommy Paul

[fritzes]

[meddybears]

The Final 8 | Men's Singles | 2024 Wimbledon Championship

[cocopufffss]

matteo will never beat the bi allegations

[channelslam]

looking thru carlos' ig (as one does) and ahahah they really do call him beast

[michelsens]

The ATP Top 10 (ish) as AJR lyrics

[onscarlitos]

Never trust a white man with two first names