Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

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Hi :) I wanted to ask if you could write something about Benedict B. x female reader x Anthony B. (Maybe readers’ mother had originally planned for her to be courted by Anthony, but the reader has strong feelings for Benedict and he does too). Something about that, If not, that’s okay. Thank you 💖

Second Sons

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader. Minor Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Word count: 5.7k

Summary: in the middle of a dull courtship with Viscount Bridgerton, forced upon you by your imposing mama, you find yourself falling for the second Bridgerton son.

Warnings: none (A little bit of Anthony bashing but we still love him here)

Authors note: i’m sorry for how long this took to write. I kept on wanting to add more to the story!



“Remember y/n, Anthony Bridgerton is hoping to find a wife this season, this is your one and only opportunity to have a viscount as a husband.” Your mother was more excited for the upcoming social season than you were. And when news broke loose of Viscount Bridgertons expected endeavors, her eyes practically popped out of her skull.

You however had other plans. While your mother saw this as a chance to marry into a higher status, you wanted to find love. True love. With a Lord, a Duke, a common peasant, or a servant, you didn’t care.  

The first ball of the season was rapidly approaching, and before you knew it, you were smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress and trying to calm yourself on the carriage ride to Lady Danbury’s house.

Your very first ball. The adrenaline was starting to kick in and your heart was beating louder and louder. From nerves or excitement, you didn’t know.

But once you entered the grand ballroom with the sparkling chandeliers and twirling dresses, you knew this would be a night to remember.

“There he is.” Whispering in your ear, your mother motioned to the tall Viscount standing several feet away from you talking to his Mama. “Violet Bridgerton and I are well acquainted, I made sure to put in several good words for you- I better stop talking, here they come.”

“Miss and Mrs. l/n. We are so delighted to see you.” The Bridgerton matriarch said with a genuine smile.  

“Your feelings are returned. Has your son met daughter y/n?” Taking your arm, she pulled you in front of her to face Anthony.

“Miss. l/n, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard wonderful things about you.” You offered him your widest smile.

“Thank you Mr. Bridgerton. Your words flatter me.” You did your best to remain composed in the presence of lord Bridgerton. Catching the eye of a lord could perhaps mean catching the eyes of others.

“Would you do me the honor of a dance later this evening?” He asked.”

“She would be delighted.” Before you could even open your mouth, your mother responded for you.

“I look forward to it.” After he left, you turned to face your mother.

“I didn’t need you to intervene. I am perfectly capable of speaking for myself, you know.”

“You just need to be reminded of how imperative this match is. A marriage to Lord Brodgerton would mean wonders to our family.”

“Well what about love?” Your mother took a step back. As if just saying the word was contagious.

“Love?” She laughed. “Love may come, but what is important is that you secure yourself a proper and wealthy husband to provide for you, and luckily Anthony Bridgerton is just that. Now prepare yourself for the upcoming dance.” Taking a few deep breaths, you steadied yourself in preparation for the rest of the evening.

–

Benedict didn’t want to be there. It was Anthony’s idea in the first place to have him leave the house and attend the first ball of the season.

“It will be fun. Who knows what ladies might be in attendance.” Benedict highly doubted he would find any sort of fun in this sort of social activities, but Anthony would not stop pestering him until he agreed.

“I’m glad you could join us brother. The night is still young and the drinks are still fresh.”

“I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I didn’t.” Taking a flute of champagne from a tray, he drowned half of it down in one gulp.

“Please remember to enjoy yourself. That is the whole reason why people come to these balls. Now I must be off, but remember-”

“Yes yes, have fun and drink. I know, brother.”

“Good.” giving Benedict a pat on the back, Anthony went off to find his mama and discuss other possible ladies to dance with.

That was when he saw her. She was standing on the other side of the room talking with what he assumed to be her mother. While several of the ladies tonight were ravishing, she was beyond ethereal. Instantly capturing his gaze and pulling him so far in that the orchestra seemed to fade away and everyone else seemed to disappear.

Soon, the beautiful figure was approached by someone who was reaching out their hand to her.

She accepted it gracefully and the couple made their way to the dancefloor to begin a waltz.

Now standing in a closer proximity to Benedict, he was able to make out who exactly the woman was dancing with. His brother.

-

“You are light on your feet Ms. l/n. By far the best dancer I have come across.”

“Thank you Lord Bridgerton.” He had a tight grip on your hand and waist as he almosted pushed you across the dance floor.

It was evident that Anthony Bridgerton had a little issue with control and power. He was a Viscount and the oldest of his eight siblings, so it is fair that he was used to constantly being the figure of authority. But being suffered by the hands of your merciless Mama for so many years, you hoped that marriage would be a point of freedom, not further constraint.

“Thank you for the dance Ms. l/n. I look forward to more in the future.” The music couldn’t end soon enough, and before you knew it, you were out of the clutches of the Viscount.

“As do I.” Nothing wrong with a little white lie.

Stepping away from the dance floor, you took advantage of the freedom to refresh yourself.

This evening was going to be exhausting. From the endless stream of possible suitors to captivate, to your Mama's comments, how could any young lady handle all of this?

“Excuse me, would you do me the honor of a dance?” Turning to see who it was, you saw the face of a man you did not recognize.

He had a kind smile and had his hand out, ready for you to take it.

“If you would prefer not to, I understand.” He pulled his hand away after you paused for a tad too long, not responding.

“No no. I’d love to dance with you sir.”    

Immediately, the man seemed far more relaxed and breezy than your previous dance partner. Something you already admired.

“Would you be so kind as to tell me your name?” He asked.\

“Y/n l/n sir.” “Benedict Bridgerton. At your service.” Bridgerton. No doubt Anthony’s younger brother.

“I was just dancing with your brother actually.”

“Oh yes. You were actually the first person I noticed when I walked in.” Butterflies started to swarm in your stomach. “I hope you don’t believe I asked to dance with you out of jealousy.” His voice was in a light panic.

“Not at all.”

He twirled you across the room as your fingers danced around in his hand, his face in a wide smile the entire time.

“Are you enjoying the season this far?” You asked.

Benedict's smile ever so slightly faltered. “Not too much if I am being entirely honest. Eventually these balls start to become endless and tiring. Of course not you that is.” He added at the end. “And what about you? This is your first season is it not?”

“It is. It’s a bit overwhelming if I am being entirely honest. I’m scared of saying or doing the wrong thing and disappointing my family.” It was the truth, no matter how much you hated the reality.

“I’ve only known you a while, but I highly doubt you could do anything to disappoint anyone. I know the pressure that exists on you ladies is wildly unfair, but don’t worry, your honesty has already impressed me.” His words of comfort instantly soothed you. It was exactly what you needed. Someone to reassure you that you weren’t alone in this new environment.

“Thank you Lord Bridgerton. It means a lot to hear those words from you.” This dance felt unfairly shorter than the last. Time flies when you’re having fun.

“Till the next time Ms. l/n.”

“Till then Lord Bridgerton.”

–

“I wish to court Ms. l/n.” It was the very first thing Anthony announced in the morning as his mother and two younger brothers sat in the parlor.

“You made up your mind quickly. Are you sure you don’t want to see any other potential young woman?” Violet Bridgerton tried to pull the reins on her son's bold proclamation.

“She seems like a perfectly acceptable lady Mama. Well worthy of the title of Viscountess. You danced with her, Benedict. What did you think of her?” Eyes darted to the second Bridgerton son as his family awaited his response.

“I-I I found her the most compelling.” (To say the least)

“Excellent. I’ll invite her for dinner as soon as possible.”  

“Already brother? Isn’t it a tad too soon to start thinking about a family dinner?” Colin remarked.

“Might I remind you who exactly is forcing me to marry in the first place?” Anthony added with a suggestive look to his mother. “You need not to worry, I already searched into her family history and background, her record is practically perfect.” His brother's words made Benedict feel uneasy. It was clear that he was only looking at y/n from a surface level, offering no regard to her character and person.

“I better tell Gregory and Hyacinth to be on their best behavior when Miss. l/n comes, I best be off to work, till then brothers.” With that, Anthony abruptly left the room, leaving everyone positively stunned.

–

Dearest gentle reader,

It appears so that the infamous unwed Viscount Bridgerton has finally found a woman worthy of his time. A Miss. y/n l/n of a well respected family of the ton might be the newest addition to the Bridgerton family. A surprise no doubt to the rest of the ton, as she was practically unheard of until she was caught dancing with Viscount Bridgerton at last week's ball. Will she continue to captivate Lord Bridgerton, or is their more to this match than meets the eye?

You felt uncomfortably small as you stood in your family's parlor, reading the latest addition of Lady Whistledown.

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine ever being mentioned in the gossip columnists article. But being wound up in the Bridgerton family already meant instant attention and attraction. Something you weren’t exactly sure you could handle.

The season was already overwhelming enough, but now, with being mentioned in the first few sentences of Lady Whistledown, meant that you certainly weren’t going to fade into the background any time soon.

“Isn’t this wonderful y/n? First a dance, and now a dinner invitation. Anthony Bridgerton has been taken to you more than I ever expected.” And no more was more excited by the prospect than your mother. “Y/n, do put that silly article down. Whatever Lady Whistledown is writing, good or bad, is of no importance. You must prepare for tonight's dinner. You want the Viscount to like you do you not?”

“Why should it matter if he doesn’t. There are hundreds of other ladies in the ton who I am sure would be more than happy to be his bride. And have you ever considered Mama, that I might not like the Viscount?” Your words puzzled your mother. Your opinion on Mr. Bridgerton was of the least concern.

“What is there not to like about Lord Bridgerton? He is wealthy, well to do, a serious man, and comes from a wondrous family. A marriage to him would ensure your happiness, I promise you.” Arguing was pointless. Status and wealth was all your Mama cared about when it came to potential suitors, and whether you like it or not, her opinion would not change.

–

“What are your hobbies Miss. l/n?” Dinner was going surprisingly better than you expected. In addition to Anthony, his mother, Benedict, third younger brother Colin, fourth younger brother Gregory, and younger sisters Eloise Francesca, and Hyacinth also had their own seats at the table. Each sibling was more exuberant and opinionated than the last. While the family dynamic was a bit chaotic to say the least, it was still a family nonetheless.

“I enjoy reading. An author by the name of Jane Austen is among one of my favorites.”

“A female author? Never heard of her.” The Bridgerton sister, who you recognized as Eloise, spoke.

“She is just brilliant. I Highly recommend her writing.”

“Was she the one who wrote Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice?” The words came unexpectedly from Benedict.

“I never took you as a woman's reader brother.” You noticed the disdain in Anthony’s voice.

Hiding your grimace, you stifled a polite remark. “Clearly Lord Bridgerton, you have yet to pleasure yourself with the writings of female authors. I believe you will be beyond impressed by the quality of the novels they publish.” A sly smile escaped Benedicts lips.

He was impressed by your wit. Not everyone had enough nerve to challenge a Viscount's opinion.

After the lavish five course meal, you were escorted to the drawing room where you sat down comfortably on the love seat.

“I’m afraid Anthony has contracts that need his attention. But do stay for a while longer if you please.” Violet Bridgerton said as her eldest son failed to follow her.

“I’d be delighted to stay Mrs. Bridgerton. You have been the most kind hostess.”

“Y/n, would you like to hear my song on the piano forte?” Hyacinth, the youngest bridgerton daughter, ran up to you, almost colliding, with eagerness.

“Be careful now Hyacinth, we don’t want Ms. l/n to be scared of us.”  Benedict warned.

“No need to worry Mr. Bridgerton. Your family is affectionately lively. I’d be delighted to hear your song Hyacinth.” Squealing, she sat down on the chair and began playing a light melody. Her skill was imposing, once she struck the final chord, you applauded her work.

“Very impressive Hyacinth. You are a future pianist in the making.”

“Thank you.” Running on a motor, she ran off to play marbles with Gregory.

“Did you always have an appreciation for the arts?” Benedict asked.

“For as long as I can remember. There is something so majestic about taking in the work someone put hours or days, or possibly months into. I hope to decorate my own house someday with art and splendor once I am old enough.”

“I take it you enjoy visual arts?” You noticed the excitement in his voice as he was bouncing in his chair.

“Absolutely! Painting and murals never fail to amaze me. How about you? Where do you fall in the world of artistry?” It was easy to tell that there was something Benedict wanted to say that was looming on the surface.

“It is mostly a hobby, but I do draw every now and then.” He looked away bashfully.

“Then you are an artist.”

“I wouldn’t consider what I do professional enough-”

“If you draw and make art then you are an artist.” You spoke firmly and silenced him.

You never expected to find an artist in the world of the upper class.

Painters, actors, and singers were always second class citizens from the comments you heard from Lords, Ladies, Barons, and Earls throughout your years.

“Would you care to ever see my work? I can’t promise you it will be like the paintings in the galleries but I think you would like them.”

“I’d be delighted to see your work Mr. Bridgerton.” Your heart jumped to your throat.

It was a rather personal thing to show one’s work to someone else. It could only mean that Benedict has a great deal of trust in you to do so.

Walking upstairs to his room, he returned quickly with dozens of papers and sketches in his hand.

“Some of these are incomplete.” He rummaged through the papers trying to stack them neatly. “Over here is just a sketch of hands, they are a menace to draw. Some silhouettes, animals, furniture and landscapes. I want to try my hand at everything.” You were shocked by Benedict's drawings. His skill was enough to rival that of any professional painting or drawing you have seen.

“You are far too humble Mr. Bridgerton. These sketches are positively glorious.” He was beaming at your words.

“Do you really think they are that good?”

“I am an honest woman. I know talent when I see it and you sir, are most certainly talented.” It wasn’t a shallow half true compliment.

Passion was something that so many lords that you have encountered lacked, but Benedict was the only exception.

You turned your body completely to face him. “Perhaps you would like to come over for tea this Saturday?” It was a bold claim. But the heart wants what it wants, and at this very instance, it wants Benedict.

You knew there has to be some unwritten rule somewhere that it was improper to invite one over to tea as their brother is courting you, but couldn’t care less.

“I’d love to.” And it appeared neither did he.  

–

You have been pacing back and forth for what felt like hours. Benedict was supposed to be here five minutes ago.

Patience is a virtue after all.

Lucky for you, your mother was going to spend the rest of the afternoon with madam Delacroix discussing and altering dresses leaving you with hours to spend with Benedict if you so desired.

When it seemed as though he would never arrive, a confident knock was heard at the door.

“I’ll get it!” You proclaimed before a servant had the chance to open it before you.

Giving you a moment to compose yourself, you opened the door to see the man of the hour.

“Mr. Bridgerton. So happy you could make it. Do come in.” You stepped aside to allow him full entry.

“I apologize for my tardiness, Gregory was having some trouble listening to his governess.”

“You are a very doting brother.”

“Unfortunately my siblings have reason to believe otherwise.” You laughed at his off hand comment.

“I’ll show you to our drawing room.” Feeling blunt, you took his hand and led him to the room where the tea lay steaming.

Once you two sat down comfortably, Benedict wasted no time jumping into conversation.

“How have your literature expeditions been lately?”

“I just started reading a collection of a Greek poet named Sappho. She is one of the most famous Greek poets, and a woman at that, but most of her work has been lost through the years.”

The rest of the afternoon went better than you could have ever imagined. Butterflies flew around your stomach and you felt the most at ease now than you have all season long.

You never knew it was possible to feel his way with a man. From the way your mother and other Mama’s put it, you must always carry a prim and proper demeanor and uphold your grace. But with Benedict you could finally be yourself, an unexpected, but welcoming change.

“And what ambitions do you hold for the future? A man with your talent is sure to accomplish whatever you set your mind to.” Benedict's cheeks turned pink at the compliment.

“I do hope to make art my career someday. Perhaps you could serve as some inspiration.”

“That would be a great honor Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Benedict, please.” It felt strangely wrong and right at the same time for Benedict to allow you to address him by his first name. He wasn't the one courting you, nor had reason to build up a stronger connection between you two, but some sort of inexplicable bond was forming nonetheless, and it was a wonderful comfort to know that he trusted and liked you enough to permit you calling him by his first name.

“Only if you call me y/n.”

“I think I can manage that, y/n.”

The conversation inevitably turned to art.

“I must admit, I am disappointed by the selected pieces in the drawing room.” Benedict was gesturing to the walls of the drawing room where mundane and repetitive pictures of flowers hung.

“I wasn’t the one who selected them mind you. Flowers can be lovely, but if they become too many, then… it can be overwhelming to say the least.”

“If you could decorate the drawing room what would you put?”

“Landscapes as a start, perhaps some greek art interpretations, oh, and animals and still life paintings.”

“Impressive lineup. But I do see there is one painting that doesn’t include some type of flora.” Pointing up and behind you, you turned around to see the painting he was referring to.

“Oh that.” You looked down and smiled. It was your portrait. Just before your society debut, your mother insisted you get a portrait of your own.

While the idea was exciting at first, you were a tad disappointed at how it turned out. The artist didn’t mess up your proportions or facial features, he just lacked… your spirit. A true artist was able to look at a subject and see more than just a person, but look right into their souls and capture it along with it.

“The paintwork is magnificent. However, it’s just missing something and I can’t quite put my finger on it.” His eyes darted across the painting as he tried to find the missing piece, rising from his seat to face the painting up close, you trailing close behind.

You stared at him entranced watching as he studied the painting eyebrows furrowed and eyes focusing while he remained concentrated.

“Your spirit. That’s what's missing.” he started to stroke his chin, still looking aimlessly at your portrait.

“If you ever desired, I could paint another for you. I could use the practice anyway.” Your breath got caught in your throat.” If you so desire.” He added at the end.

“That would be splendid Mr. Bridgerton. I would be honored to be the subject of your work.”

“I just hope I will be able to capture your beauty all in one painting.” he instantly winced at his word choice as you felt your cheeks heat up with flusteredness.

“You think I’m… beautiful?” The last word came out barely audible.

“Ms. l/n, you are the most beautiful thing I ever laid eyes on.” Looking up from the ground, you allowed your eyes to get lost in the sea of Benedict's blue.

You were so focused on his gaze, you failed to notice that his face was now mere inches away from yours, and he was getting closer.

“But, your brother.” You whispered.

“I don’t care.” He closed the gap that was between you two and you allowed yourself to melt into a magical kiss.

Anthony, the courtship, your Mama, all of it just disappeared. And neither one of you cared one bit.

“What will happen now?” Escorting Benedict to the front door for his departure, you asked him the one question plaguing your mind.

“We don’t have to dwell on that now.” He said caressing your head. “Let us enjoy our company while we can.” His response didn’t give you much confidence, but it was all you got.

Benedict was your escape, only for how long, you did not know.

–

“Perhaps a little too straight forward, but at least she possesses rational thought and a clever mind.” It was late into the night, and after his third drink, Anthony tended to let slip whatever was on his mind.

The fire was burning in the Viscount’s study as the two brothers sat down on the plush leather chairs.

“But you like her as a person right?” After kissing y/n, Benedict should have been more aware of the consequences. How could she possibly continue her courtship with the man whose brother she kissed? More importantly, what would Anthony do if he found out?

“I am only doing this to satisfy our mother.” He said drawing another glass. Besides, y/n would make a fine wife and mother. She is caring and considerate.”

“Is that it? Are there any other traits about her that you find captivating?”

“Such as what?”

“Her smile, her wit, her character-”

“Brother,” Anthony leaned forward to place his forearms on his legs. “Is there something you wish to tell me about you and miss. l/n?” Benedict’s heart froze and neck stiffened.

“Because if I failed to acknowledge a spark between the two of you, please know that I will immediately back down.”

“No no.” Benedict spoke a little too rapidly. “I just want to make sure she will make you happy.” Anthony was his elder brother, the heir to the Bridgerton Viscountcy, who always got the first pick, and first say. He was the one who deserved the best wife of his choosing.

“Thank you brother. After tomorrow's ball I plan on proposing.” Benedict’s blue eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

“Tomorrow? Why so soon? Don’t you want a little more time to get acquainted with her family and get to know her better?”

“I see no point in waiting. The sooner there is a ring on her finger and a Viscountess by my side, the happier Mama will be. Thank you for your concern Benedict.” Anthony gave his brother a firm pat on the shoulder before standing up to reside in his room.

The moment the door shut, Benedict shot up from his seat and ran his fingers through his hair.

This was all moving too fast. He thought he had time to spend with y/n before the inevitable happened. Was he being selfish? Or was your happiness just as important as his?

–

The Duke and Duchess of Hastings were throwing a very exclusive and very extravagant ball. Anyone who was anyone would be there and your Mama was head over heels at the sight of your invitation.

“The Duchess is Viscount Bridgertons sister! This is a monstrous step in your courtship. He could even propose.”

“Please don’t get ahead of yourself Mama.” Usually, an invitation to a ball would excite you, but you had a bad feeling at the pit of your stomach that you just couldn’t shake away.

“I am going to run to Madame Delacroix to pick up your new dress. You must look like the picture of perfection for the ball.” Your Mama rushed out of the house, practically floating, all caught up in her excitement.

A few moments later, rapid and loud knocking was heard from the door.

Wondering what the urgency was, your eyebrows rose in surprise at the sight of Benedict Bridgerton.

“Benedict. I did not expect you, but please do come in.”

“Y/n, Anthony is going to propose to you after my sister's ball.” He appeared to be catching his breath, which could only mean he must have ran all the way from the Bridgertons residence to yours.

“What do you mean?” It was a stupid question. He meant exactly what he said. Your worst fear comes true.

“Anthony isn’t going to waste time in getting what he wants.”

“What about what you want?” Your voice started to tremble.

Taking two steps up, you walked outside the threshold of your house to face Benedict.

“I am the second son. It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“That isn’t true.” You whispered.

He started to lean forward, and for a moment, you believe he was going to kiss you. Alas, realization took over and he leaned back. “I’m sorry y/n. I just thought you ought to know.” Without saying goodbye, he turned and walked away leaving you standing outside your front door.

–

The day of the ball came and the sinking feeling in your stomach only grew. Your dress looked ravishing on you and your hair was styled to perfection, but the looming event that was waiting for you at the end of the ball made you feel like throwing up.

This was the last thing you wanted for a proposal. You wanted it to be by a man you loved and who loved you, not someone whose marriage would only increase your status.

“Miss. l/n, how beautiful you look tonight.” And there was the man of the hour himself.

“Lord Bridgerton.” You curtised politely. “So pleased to see you.”

“Do save your last dance for me if you would please. I heard it will be a waltz and according to your Mama, it is your specialty.”

“I would be more than happy to do so.”

For the next hour, you kept looking over your shoulder for Benedict. Praying that he at some point would make some appearance. You had to see him again before your fate was sealed. And if you could muster enough confidence, maybe even tell him the very thing that you should have told him yesterday.

But Benedict did make a habit of being late. And just before your dance was due with Anthony, he walked in.

Feeling relieved, overjoyed, and terrified all at the same time. Beginning to run to him, Anthony stepped right in your way.

“I believe you owe me a dance Miss. l/n.” He raised his hand waiting politely for you to take it.

“Of course.” Throughout the entire dance, you felt oddly hot and uncomfortable, Anthony’s grip on you was entirely too tight and the dance went far too fast.

“Are you alright Miss. l/n? You seem oddly stiff.”

“I’m fine.” Nothing could be further from the truth.

The final note was soon struck, but before you could excuse yourself, Anthony spoke.

“Would you mind if I escorted you to the gardens? There is something I need to tell you and it would only be for a moment.

“Certainly.”

This was it. Everything that happened from the moment you met Anthony was leading up to this inevitable disastrous ending. The laughter and conversation fell silent on your ears. All you could hear was your thumping heart, beating so loudly you were certain the Viscount could hear it.

Leaving the ballroom, you didn;t see the pair of blue eyes following you and Anthony out.

“My sister planted these Tulips herself. Aren’t they beautiful? I always wanted flowers like these in a house of my own.” It wasn’t difficult to see what Anthony was alluding to.

“I hope to find someone to share that kind of life with, and I believe I may have found that person in you miss. l/n.” Bending down on one knee, he took out a small velvet box from his pocket.

“Y/n l/n, I believe few are worthy of the title of Viscountess, but you have proven to me that you are worthy of that and so much more. Will you be my wife?”

All you could do was fixate on the ring in the box. The symbol of your sealed fate.

But not today. Your mother would be beyond furious, the ton would eat up the gossip like animals, but you didn’t care.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Bridgerton. I-I can’t. I just can’t. Not when I love someone else.” Gripping your skirts, you turned around and ran, leaving Anthony stunned and confused. He wasn’t quite used to not getting what he desired.

You didn’t bother entering the ballroom. You felt too sick and overwhelmed to face the hundreds of people who would stare and look and speak to you.

Opting for the carriage instead to take you home, you made your way to the front of the grand manor before you heard a familiar voice call out.

“Y/n wait.” You immediately stopped running once you heard his voice. “Benedict?” Turning around, his tall figure was running to catch up with you.

“You didn’t say yes.” It was a statement not a question.

“I just couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Anthony or myself. How can I marry a man while my heart lies with another?”

“Y/n, but what will happen to you? Everyone in the ballroom is talking about you and my brother's failed proposal your reputation-

“To hell with my reputation. I don’t care. I don’t care.” You expected to feel scared or anxious, but you felt surprisingly free.

“My only question is, do you?”

“Y/n. You have captured my heart and soul more than I ever expected anyone to be capable of doing so. You make me want to act outside the bounds of reason and expectations. I do hope you don’t make it a habit to reject the proposals of Bridgertons.” You laughed through the tears that were now down your face.

“I don’t have a ring, but-”

“Benedict, I’d marry you with paper rings with that's what it took to be with you.” Not wasting any more time, you grabbed the sides of his head and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Let's get out of here.”

Dearest gentle reader,

It appears that even the tempting title of Viscountess isn’t enough to persaud Miss. y/n l/n to accept the proposal of Anthony Bridgerton. After the ball, thrown in the lavish manor of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings, we were all waiting for the upcoming proposal from the Viscount to Miss. l/n. However, the night ended with the lady running from the gardens to the front of the manor, when none other than Benedict Bridgerton started to run up to catch her. And mere moments later, the two were found in a scandalous kiss and engaged!

It didn’t take long for the wedding to commerce and the new Bridgerton couple to move in together in an allegedly perfectly decorated house.

The rest of the ton is understandably, positively stunned to the core over the recent scandal. And while usually such unexpected and moving behavior is looked down upon, this author cannot help but congratulate the newlyweds over their act of bravery in defiling societies expectations.

And to the new Mr and Mrs. Bridgerton, I wish them a happy and prosperous married life.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

Robert Pattinson as Bruce Wayne/Batman in The Batman (2022) dir. Matt Reeves

this color scheme >>>>

THE BATMAN (2022) 🦇

jason todd x reader

-fluff <3

-damian wayne mention

-enjoy ;)

the apartment was quiet, which was rare for a gotham evening and even rarer in the event that both yourself and jay were both home.

that could mean one of many things, either a movie is going or the two of you are chatting up a storm as jason cooks his heart away in the kitchen. it could mean that one or all of his siblings were over, included but not excluded to roy as well as the other titans who all took just as fast of a liking to you as jason did.

but regardless of what it meant it proved that your home was never quiet. dog was barking (jay was never good with names), windows opening and shutting, groans and grunts (from stitches and sparring), quite the long list but the point was made, it was a quiet evening and that was weird.

so much so that when jason snuck back in through the fire escape at a whopping 10 pm because bruce sent him home from patrol early, feeling sympathetic that night to the fact that his son now had someone waiting at home for him, and the house was quiet jason was almost alarmed.

he kept his gear on, helmet off and placed on your night side table like always, though the domino mask still covered the upper half of his face. light footsteps traced the wood floors, which was odd considering he was a slab a meat walking, but none the less he held one hand to either holster on the sides of his thighs waiting to turn the corner and see either someone holding you or an empty house.

jason was silently praying for an empty living room with a sticky note on the TV saying you went out for ice cream or maybe work called you in, but it was a toss up, a hope, and jason only started hoping when he met you.

he swore his heart stopped when he heard your breathing get heavy. his feet stalled, he knew you were the only one who could ever hear him coming, waiting to see if your breathing would pick up or calm down but nothing happened again, the room was back to pure and utter silence.

he gripped the handle of one of his guns, holding it white knuckled, unable to even think if something happened to you, if you were getting hurt because of his nightly activities, he would rather die all over again than loose you. (not that he would ever admit it, it would ruin his image.)

his body twisted around the last corner, gun already halfway raise from the holster, heart racing, unsure if it had fallen out of his chest or was still resting within. he was on guard in his own home, something he never wanted, he didn’t want to let them win.

“oh for fucks sake.”

his eyes bulged from his head, gun slammed back into the holster, sending a very confused glance as the words tumbled out from his lips before he could even process the fact that you were sitting perfectly fine on the living room floor, a game of chest sat on your cement coffee table with his little demon brat brother sitting just on the other side.

“oh jay you’re home.” your voice carried from your lips to his ears, easing his racing heartbeat but it failed to be sweet enough to wipe the gruff and annoyance off his face.

jason hummed back in agreement, nodding briefly as he kept his eyes on the demon’s head who had yet to acknowledge his older brothers presence or anything at all. jay shifted weight from side to side as he began to toe off his work boots, ones that you immediately notice were cleaner than a usually night in patrol.

his green eyes, now a softer shade, maybe even emerald, stayed on damian with a look of annoyance and maybe even anger, as his body carried over to the couch just behind his girl in his home. your body naturally leaned back into jason, his body resting back on the couch, legs open waiting for you to lean back into his embrace.

“hi darling.” jason’s voice was gruff, usually always was, but it tends to get this deeper and more animalistic when his heart beat had been racing or changed suddenly, so when he wakes at any time of the day, after a sound of ‘making love’ (jay hates calling it sex, he feels like he using you), or after or during a workout. he claims it comes as a side effect from the pit, you think he just gets flustered and doesn’t know how to cover it up.

your body leaned back between his legs, head falling down to the edge of his thigh, hair sprawled across is massive leg, waiting and watching as his head come place a kiss to your hairline, his hand coming down from the back of the couch to rub your scalp for a brief second. (he knows you love it and he loves to watch your eyelids flutter as he massages the area.)

a brief pause passed as your head lifted to turn your attention back to the game of chest, the only sound that can be heard is a deep grumble from your boyfriends chest, “demon brat.”

damian didn’t even flinch, moving his chest piece onto the black square, tilting his head upward just enough to grab a glimpse of his older brother. “todd.”

jason huffed behind you, patting your shoulder signifying he wanted to get up, most likely to change out of the armor. he stepped out for behind your figure, turning around the coffee table, not missing the chance to kick his little brother in the leg before stalking off back to the master room, one he would much rather be laying down in with you watching a movie or reading a book.

“i still don’t understand what you see in him.” damian voiced as he watched you make your next move and immediately pounced to move his en passant.

“you act like you hate having me around.” you teased, staring longing at the board unsure of which move to make next, eyes scanning between damian’s face and the board.

“i do enjoy your company y/n.” he stated, clearly wanting to expand on his point but waiting for you to turn your attention entirely to him. “you are intelligent, it’s refreshing.”

you let out a small snort; you didn’t mean to but you did, immediately regretting it as you watch damian’s face frown and eyes fall back to the board.

“oh dami, i’m sorry.” you reach around, hand resting on his own earning soft look, a hurt look, (he looks like a sad puppy and it’s killing you.) “thank you for thinking i’m smart but you live with some of the smartest minds alive, you just don’t see how you are any sort of special or refreshing.)

your words were honest, yes you were smart but you were not babs or tim. yes, you had a masters degree in clinical research and are having successes with your new treatment for children’s leukemia, but that was luck not intelligence.

“none of them take me seriously.” his voice was small, over the last 4 years of knowing damian he was never small. “you always do.”

you thought your heart was going to explode, genuinely had a broken look on your face to mirror his own. but if you thought this moment with damian was breaking your heart than you clearly had no idea how jason was melting watching the two of you from the corner.

“because you deserve to be listened to damian.” you reached your hand that had been previously resting on his own, to his chin, tilting it up so his green eyes were blaring into your own, so you knew he was understand his words. “i know it’s hard, growing up here and trying to fit in-“

“that’s not the issue anymore y/n.” damian was quick to cut you off, stopping the speech that he had heard too many times over the last few weeks but you didn’t know that.

“so what is the issue than dami?” you questioned, your hands pushed off the base of his chin as his head turned down tot he board and making yet another move, leaving you confused as to how he keeps multiple attention strings on you and the game.

damian huffed, he really hated confrontation, he hated having to open up but with you he felt like you were so easy to talk to and you always understood, you never belittled him or told him no. last year he told you he could drive and you let him. damn near gave bruce and jason a heart attack but it made damian finally feel listened to.

damian had liked you since jason brought you home for the first time. he enjoyed how you didn’t treat him like a child and how you asked about his interests and really seemed to enjoy him talk about it. titus took a liking to you the following week when you had to stop by the manor to get something for jason. titus didn’t even bark instead he followed you around, waiting to lay down with you or go outside, that’s when damian knew you are a good person and he made the executive decision to “tolerate” you.

he hated though how everyone pointed out the fact that he took an instant liking to you, he hadn’t done that with anyone but the animals at the manor. he also hated that everyone would fake hurt because he called you by your first name and everyone else by their last. he didn’t do it on purpose, when he met you, you almost reminded him of someone his mother used to have around her and if she was not to be disrespected. he didn’t want to disrespect you. he felt like he knew you well and to put it plainly you were the perfect mix of todd, grayson, his mother, and father, and that’s what made you feel so much like his big sister.

“you don’t have to talk about it now dami, i’ll always be here if you need me.” you took the beat after his shy look to make another move on the board, calling checkmate before he even had time to process what just unfolded.

“you cheated.”

“i did not.”

“you must have, i never loose.”

“you just did.”

from the corner of the room, still undetected by both his soulmate and his brother, jason was smiling like a damn idiot. ear to ear at the interaction that just unfolded. finding you will always be the biggest triumph of his life.

but he knew if he didn’t intervene soon that cheese prices would be flying and the two sitting so peacefully, teasing at one another over the win and the loss, would not end well.

so here comes the night in a ‘fuck batman’ shirt and some grey sweats, to the rescue, still drunk off the fact that he could ever find someone as perfect as you.

“hey demon brat.” the two heads twisted the direction of the hallways, damian’s eyes narrowed into two slits and your eyes glowing blue as you smiled at the man now pushing his body off the wall. “can i have my girlfriend back?”

jason began the walk over to the couch, eyeing the original spot he had taken when he first encountered the pair in the living room, watching as his girl lightly moved away from the back of the couch to make room for his legs. but the movement of his legs were halted as he fully bodied his younger brother, who at some point during his staring encounter with his girlfriend had risen to his feet and was now blocking jason from getting any closer to the couch.

“move D” a huff supported the statement as jason didn’t even use the energy to look down at the 13 year old.

“change your shirt.” his younger brothers voice was cold, first balled up and pushing against his older brothers stomach in attempts to force him back to the room.

an eye roll and quick step to the side “no.”

“your disrespecting father.” damian started again, turning as jason started settling down into the couch behind you, hands instinctively going to your hair to play at the ends of it.

“he’s not my father.” a sing song voice answered the statement, causing damian to look at you, pleading for back up, which was responded with a head shake and a sad smile.

rule number one, never get between all four or even a pair of the brothers, it won’t end well for you.

“i’m calling father.” damian spoke aloud again, making jason’s hand freeze in your hair and body go stiff behind you.

“your bluffing.”

“i don’t bluff todd.”

and just like that the quite night home was over, the room was filled with laughter (from you) grunts, kicks, screams, and groans (from the boys) and the cheese prices falling on the floor which earned yet another lecture from damian to jason about how priceless the game of the mind is.

but let’s just say the morning was worse when jason was stilling wearing the fuck batman shirt and we ran out of damian’s favorite cereal.

“todd how are dare you not have it!”

“this is my house demon spawn! i don’t eat that shit!”