Chapter Text
Dating in London is shit. Like really, really shit. Your friend has been hounding you for months to try online dating, and now finally after an especially long shift at work, you were a glass of wine in, watching her swipe through a seemingly endless stream of men with 'looking for something different' in their bios.
“This is stupid.”
“Oh come on! You can’t knock it immediately” Emily grinned. “What do you think of him?”
You glanced at the profile of ‘Harry, 29’.
“Conservative.”
“Come onnn…” Emily groaned. “You do not know that already. How would you even know that?”
“Because, he’s got a quote from Winston Churchill in his bio?"
She glanced at the profile, looking a bit bashful.
“Oh. Right.” She continued swiping. “That’s just one guy though. You’ve got to really dig deep to find the good ones, ok?
You rolled your eyes, reaching to take your phone back from her.
“This is still stupid” You said, smiling. You swiped through a few more profiles, Emily watching over your shoulder.
“Wait, hang on, I think I know him” Emily touched your wrist lightly, making you pause.
You were now looking at ‘Ben. 30’. He looked…good. The photo was inside an old-style coffee shop, clearly taken by someone sitting across from him. His jaw was strong and lightly stubbled, and kind eyes, but it was the smile that really caught your eye. It was soft and slightly crooked, but…easy. Gentle. You couldn’t lie to yourself. He was gorgeous.
“Oh my god, I knew I recognised him” Emily spoke, showing you her phone. “He’s a Bridgerton”
You looked at the news article she was holding in your face. Something about the company buying out another organisation. You zoomed in on the photo.
Anthony Bridgerton stood front and centre. He was a very well-known face in the public eye, the CEO of one of the largest companies in the UK, and well, pretty much the world. He had married a politician a few years ago, and you remember there being some buzz about the circumstances of it all. You didn’t really know. Next to him was Colin, the jetsetter. His Instagram was being recommended to you constantly, with photos of him in a different country every week. He was very popular.
Ben, or, Benedict Bridgerton, stood between Anthony and a few other faces. He had that same smile, if a little smaller. He wasn’t really in the news a lot, and honestly, he was a bit of a mystery.
“You have got to swipe right. You could sleep with a millionaire!”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh come on Em. There is no way that’s actually him”
She groaned and rolled her eyes back at you, knowing full well you were right. “Ugh, you’ve gotta at least see what happens!” She tried to reach over your lap, trying to swipe right for you. You pulled your hand back, laughing
“No! It’s absolutely one of those scam accounts waiting to steal what little money I have”
She grinned at you. “You don’t know that”
You deadpanned. “There is no way a man with a net worth of what, two million, is sitting on Tinder.” You smirked, gesturing to the still-open news article on her phone. “That’s a Raya man right there.”
She groaned at your stubbornness and once again, rolled her eyes at you.
“Ugh, just play along a little! Have a chat with the ‘fake account’!”
She grabbed your phone and began looking through the rest of the profile, swiping through multiple pictures, her eyes scanning over the account in detail.
You sighed, taking a sip of your drink. “It’s probably some sixty-year-old weirdo sitting in his mum’s basement swiping right on every woman he sees hoping one of them falls for it”.
Emily grinned. “Only one way to find out I guess”
She swiped right.
It’s a Match!
They were silent for a moment, before you shook your head “See? Swipes right on everyone”
She continued looking through the profile. “Looks pretty real to me.”
You took your phone back, looking through the photos. “That’s what scammers do, Em”
“It’s only a scam if you give them your credit card details!” Emily laughed. She was a dreamer.
“Just give it a try?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not spending my Saturday night talking to a scammer on a dating app. That’s even more depressing than what I normally do”
She sighed in disappointment, a pout forming on her lips. The wine was clearly going to her head a little bit more. “What if it’s real? You’re telling me you wouldn’t wanna date a Bridgerton?”
You shook your head, laughing softly as she put her phone down on the edge of the couch. “He seems like a perfectly lovely man” You were holding back. He was gorgeous, and your type to an absolute tee. But Emily didn’t need to know that “But it’s not him, you know that right?”
“Ugh…fine” She smiled playfully. “Let’s play with my account instead”
~~~
You were on the overground, on your way back from Emily’s. You were pretty buzzed by this point, the one glass of wine turning into a solid two and a half as you laughed at Emily’s dating prospects.
You had googled Benedict Bridgerton a bit more as you waited on the tube, feeling a bit nosey. He had a bit of a party phase a few years back from what you had read, but apart from that, he really wasn’t in the press a lot. All of the Google image results were of him with his family, or at various art gallery openings or gala’s. He did look pretty incredible in a suit, and the thumb ring almost had you breathless.
You had your eyes shut, fighting the way your brain was spinning from the wine when you felt the buzz of your phone.
Ben: Hello :)
You glanced at the notification, scoffing. And the scammer strikes. You really should just ignore it, but you’re a bit drunk, bored enough on the tube, and still have twenty-five minutes to go until your stop. Besides, maybe your soulmate could actually be a middle-aged Tinder scammer
You typed back a response.
You: Hi :)
The response was pretty much instant. This guy was clearly eager for your three-digit security code.
Ben: How are you?
You read the message. What the hell. This could be funny.
You: a bit wine drunk on the tube.
Again, the response was pretty quick.
Ben: Interesting choice of drinking location. What inspired this?
She rolled her eyes
You: didn’t start here lol. I’m leaving my friends’ house after being strong-armed into helping her finish the bottle
Ben: Been there too many times. I was meant to be out tonight but I couldn’t be arsed, so I ended up here
You: and where would ‘here’ be?
A part of your mind was screaming ‘His mother’s basement’. What the hell were you doing?
Ben: Currently? On my couch binge watching a show
You smiled. No requests to borrow money so he could buy Google yet? You typed another message, wanting to see how far you could take this.
You: what show?
Ben: Currently, the office
‘Of course he is’ you thought sarcastically.
You: UK or US version though. answer carefully
Ben: Who the hell binges the UK version? US version all the way
You smiled. At least Mr Not-Benedict-Bridgerton had decent taste in TV.
You: correct answer :)
Ben: Ok, my turn to ask now. Favourite character?
You thought for a while before replying.
You: dwight. but jim is cute
Ben: Have to agree with you there
You laughed to yourself. A part of you was desperate to reply with ‘identity theft is not a joke’ and block him, but you were oddly rooting for this scammer. You wanted him to at least think he was getting somewhere. And hey, if he was talking to you, it means he wasn’t trying to extort someone who might actually fall for this.
You: a part of me was a little worried you were going to say toby and then we’d really be in trouble
Ben: The Scranton Strangler? Never…
You caught yourself smiling. This had gone on long enough.
You: my friend thought she recognised your face from somewhere
Ben: Oh?
You: yeah
There wasn’t a response for a long moment. You almost thought you’d scared him off when-
Ben: I do look a lot like my brother I guess.
You frowned. Maybe you were just drunk and empathising too much, but the way he had worded that…there wasn’t even a mention of his identity, and it came across as almost…discouraged. As though the real Benedict Bridgerton was only an extension of his family.
You: is this the part where you ask for my bank details?
Ben: Sorry?
You: lol come on
There was another beat before ‘Ben’ responded.
Ben: I’m confused
You rolled your eyes.
You: I mean, no offence to whoever you actually are, but stumbling onto a hot millionaire on Tinder of all places…you aren’t exactly playing with subtlety.
Ben: You think I’m a fake account?
You laughed, shaking your head. This guy was acting stupid, and you had to commend him for his commitment to the bit. You checked the sign, you still had about fifteen minutes until your stop.
You: absolutely I do, yes
There was another pause between responses.
Ben: I can assure you, I am quite real. I don’t lie to pretty girls on the internet. Paints a bad first impression
Damn. You shouldn’t have called the profile photo hot.
You: aw, I bet you say that to all the girls whose credit card information you ask for x
Ben: I mean, if you’re really offering. Would you prefer to send a cheque or bank transfer?
Oh, this guy was being funny. Maybe the odds of your soulmate being a Tinder scammer were higher than you realised.
You: Online, but I can also do cash
Ben: If I were a real scammer, I’d probably use that to my advantage. I’d make up a story about my younger brother stealing my credit card and how I need money urgently.
You: oh, let me guess. He spent all the family money on a holiday and you need $2000 USD to buy Amazon
Ben: Oh you got me. In fact, he’s in the room with me right as we speak, he needs a new suitcase for his next holiday.
You were laughing out loud in the empty train carriage. Whoever this guy actually was, he was incredibly witty. You couldn’t work out whether it was that you were more drunk than you realised, or more lonely than you realised if you were starting to let yourself be charmed by a catfisher.
You: I do have to admit. you’re my favourite scammer I’ve spoken to
Ben: I feel honoured to be deemed the best scammer.
You: hey, I didn’t say best. you’ve still not managed any actual scamming
Ben: I’m honestly not a scammer. I promise
You: that’s exactly what a scammer would say, you do know that right?
Another pause.
Ben: I do realise that now, yes.
Ben: Are there really that many scams on this app?
You: oh yeah.
Ben: I can only imagine just what I’m up against.
You: oh, there’s some tough competition mr not benedict bridgerton. just last week tom cruise offered my friend a motorbike in exchange for even one picture
You smiled at the memory of that. You and Emily had been at a pub when ‘Tom Cruise’ slid into her Instagram dm’s. This conversation was much better than that one.
Ben: Only one picture? Damn, I think I need to step up my game then.
You rolled your eyes. Why the hell were you letting a scam Tinder account flirt with you?
You: ah, so you’re a ‘send pics’ scammer instead of phishing for money then
Ben: I’m not going to deny that I’m tempted to make an offer. But you seem a little too witty for me. You’d probably end up sending a picture of some kind of horrific looking animal
You laughed. That’s exactly what you would do.
You: aw, I feel like you know me so well already
It was getting hard to deny. Maybe it was the wine, but you were genuinely growing fond of whoever this guy really was. You had sent the first message expecting a stupid back-and-forth before you got blocked. But this? You’d had more fun with this than you had expected to. If this wasn’t a lying stranger on the internet, you might have actually wanted this to turn into something more.
You: I feel like we’ve bonded mr scammer. what’s your actual name?
There was another pause between messages.
Ben: I don’t quite know how to convince you that I’m not a scammer. But alright, my actual name is Benedict.
You sighed. All men do is lie. Even when they’re trying to scam you.
You: After such a lovely moment of bonding you’re still lying to me? I know with almost 100% certainty you aren’t actually benedict bridgerton.
Ben: Is this the part where I send a photo of my ID to prove it?
You smiled.
You: I mean, I’ll take bank details
You: reverse uno ;)
Ben: Reverse uno? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were actually the scammer now.
You: you’ve caught me. I’m actually a scammer targeting other scammers. they never see it coming
You had to stop this. You were drunkenly flirting with a scammer on Tinder on a Saturday night. You really had to stop.
But it was just so fun…
Ben: So you’re a scammer-hunter scammer? That’s a pretty good plan, honestly.
You: I like to think of myself as a bit like mulder from the x files
Ben: I can actually kind of picture it. But minus the paranoia about the government, I’m hoping?
You: former politics student I’m afraid. trust no one
Ben: Former? So you dropped out to do some freelance scam-hunting, or…?
You had to stop this. Why the hell were you telling this guy about yourself now?
You: idk why I said former. I graduated a few years back now lol
Ben: Right, so you’re an actual graduate politics student who dabbles in scamming scammers. You’re a real renaissance woman, aren’t you?
You flushed slightly, cursing yourself. This was becoming…something. Whoever this was, they really were easy to talk to. Easier than anyone had been in a long time.
You: w hitney houston has nothing on me x
You looked up. Your stop was flashing, and the tube was starting to slow down.
You: well not benedict bridgerton, I’m afraid this is when I must disappear into the night
Ben: Leaving me to talk to the walls then, are you?
You stepped off the tube. Still typing.
You: I’m sure you’ve got other women to scam
Ben: No, I’m having too much fun talking to you to bother scamming other people, believe it or not.
Ah ha. Gotcha. You ignored the small pang of disappointment you felt at what sounded like an admission that he was in fact, just a scammer.
You : you’re a bit of a rubbish scammer, you know that right? nearly twenty minutes and you’ve not asked me for even one of my sixteen-digit card numbers. not even asking for clue of what my mother’s maiden name is
Ben: Yeah well you’re not exactly easy to scam, are you? I honestly don’t think I’d have the patience to deal with you if I were a scammer.
You: I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me
Ben: If we’re doing compliments now, you’re pretty easy on the eyes as well to be completely honest
You: keep sweet talking me like that and I’ll start to wish you weren’t trying to steal my credit card information
You walked up to the street level, knowing that ship had long since sailed.
Ben: I know I’m sounding a bit like a broken record, but I feel like I really should say it again. I *promise* I’m not a scammer. I’m a real person
You smiled. It was almost easy to believe him. Almost.
Ben: well, if you're not a scammer, you're definitely catfishing. googling hot rich men and luring women in with your charms
Ben: You think I’m charming?
You smirked, blushing a little. Whoever this actually was, they were dangerous.
You: no comment.
You really had to stop. This was only going to end one way. You started typing a final message to him, thanking him for keeping you entertained on your semi-drunken journey home, when he sent another message.
Ben: I’ll admit, I know how this looks. But I promise you I’m not a scammer. I’m not trying to be a catfish or extort anything, I actually am just Ben. I downloaded this app about six months ago and completely forgot about it until tonight when you swiped right and started talking to me. Which I’m also really enjoying
Ben: No credit card details required :)
You stopped typing, reading his message. You deleted your message. You then read it again.
What the hell. What’s the worst that could happen?
You: prove it.
Ben: Alright…How?
You: send me a photo of yourself.
You: and not one right off of Google. I mean an actual, normal photo.
You: I’ll be able to tell.
This was the biggest gap between messages that there had been since you started talking. You were almost home and pretty sure he’d given up by the time you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.
You opened the message, and your heart gave a little jolt.
It was a photo of him, standing in front of a mirror with his thumb up. He was cleanly shaven, and his hair was shorter than the cafe photo on his profile, as well as a bit messier. He was wearing sweats and a white top, but it was the smile that once again drew you in. It was the exact same, almost goofy-looking.
Ben: Believe me now?
You wanted to believe it. You really did.
You: almost
Ben: You really are quite a cynic, you know that?
You: wow don't judge me for exercising the necessary precautions of online safety mr maybe benedict bridgerton
Ben: Fair enough I guess
You thought for a moment.
You: ok, send a photo of you holding a banana
You: with a fork stuck in it
Another pause in responses. Longer this time. You were stepping out of the lift and about to unlock your front door when you got the next response.
It was a selfie this time. But there he was, holding a fork he’d poked through a banana. And looking damn smug about it too.
You dropped your housekeys.
Ben: That better be enough to convince you Nev. I just wasted a perfectly good banana for that.
You could almost picture that smug grin.
You: oh shit. ok.
Ben: Told you I was actually me, didn’t I?
You: oh you are so not allowed to pull the ‘I told you so’ card right now. this was like, a textbook scam
Ben: I will concede to that point. I am too good to be true.
Smartass.
You: so I really have spent my Saturday night wine drunk on the tube flirting with what has to be the only multimillionaire on Tinder then huh
Ben: Pretty much, yeah. Did I live up to your expectations?
You were so glad you had that second glass of wine right now.
You: buddy I’m gonna be fully honest I had to google you when my friend told me who you were
Ben: Ouch. That probably wasn’t the best thing to say for my self-esteem you know
It was unfair how easily this man could make you smile through messages alone.
You: you millionaire types are all ego
Ben: You don’t know me well enough to know if I’ve got an ego or not. I could be very humble for all you know.
You: I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt
Ben: So you’ve finally accepted I’m not trying to extort you for your money?
You: honestly with how well you’ve executed all of this you’d kind of deserve my money if this does turn out to be an act
Ben: I’ll admit, that’s somewhat insulting. But I’ll take it as a compliment, I guess. I really should get some acting credentials for being able to carry that off, huh?
You: add it to your resume
Ben: How about I just add you to my saved Tinder chats?
You: or you could add this to your phone contacts x
You sent him your number, surprising yourself with that message. You had never been that smooth in your entire life. But here you were, standing outside your front door, chatting up a millionaire on a dating app. As if it was the most normal thing in the world.
You picked up your house keys, and unlocked your door.
~~~
Just half an hour ago, Benedict was bored. Like, incredibly so. He had plans to go out with Colin and Anthony tonight, but tonight he didn’t think he could stomach the places they normally went. Christ, he really was getting old…
So, he was resigned to once again, spending his Saturday night lying on his couch pretending to watch an episode of a show he has to have seen at least five times by now. And that’s when he spotted the Tinder notification. He had downloaded the damn app months ago, hoping for something a bit different. He gave up on finding anything serious pretty quickly, and eventually even the hookups grew boring. He had forgotten he even had the app and honestly confused at why he was even getting a notification after this long.
Now, however, he was sitting upright on his couch, with his jaw hanging open a bit after nearly dropping his phone on his face. He had to be talking to a Tinder unicorn. Smart, witty, able to keep up with him, and if he was being honest with himself, extremely pretty.
He just sat there looking at the message for a moment, almost wondering if it was a mistake. But he decided that you were too smart to accidentally send a random stranger your number, right?
You: is that actually your number?
y/n: only one way to find out x
There was no way. He was good, but he knew he wasn’t that good to have a girl go from adamant he was trying to catfish her, to getting her number. Not in under half an hour. He typed your number into his phone and sent a message.
You: Hey, it’s Ben. Just making sure this is actually your real number…?”
He got a response instantly
Y/n: sorry, who is this?
This little shit. He actually got a fright for a second, thinking he’d been had. He shook his head and grinned to himself. He knew exactly what she was doing, and he was loving it. He loved everything about this if he was being completely honest.
You: You’re a smartarse, you know that right?
The only response he got to that was a photo. The top half of her head, and her fingers in a peace sign. He could just about see the bottom half of her face twisted in what was absolutely a shit-eating grin. He found himself staring at the picture, a soft smile with a weird mix of surprise and excitement building in his stomach.
You: Proof of life?
Y/N: Proof I’m not a scammer either since you didn’t even bother to check before texting the number a girl on the internet gave you
He laughed as he read that, feeling like that was a good point. After all, he really hadn’t seen any ‘proof’ of who you were either. He started typing again, his curiosity growing as he did so.
You: So it’s only fair for me to see more of you then, right?
Y/N: you better not be about to ask for feet pics or something
He barked a laugh out at that, admittedly a bit disappointed that your overall experience with men had made you assume that’s what he was about to ask. He couldn’t blame you though. He’d spent six months on this app talking to them as well. He grinned as he started typing back. Oh, he was in trouble with this girl.
You: Feet pics? Really? I swear I’m not that kind of guy. I just meant like, a full picture of you
There was a delay in messages, likely whilst you took a photo. Or at least Benedict hoped.
The photo got sent through a few minutes later, and he found himself staring at it for a little longer than he had expected. It was a mirror selfie, and she was giving him a thumbs-up in the same way he had earlier. Apart from that, you looked identical to your profile. Maybe a little better if that was even possible.
Y/N: see? no extra eyes :)
He smiled softly at the message for a moment.
You: How are you even single?
Y/N: I’m not. I’m actually in a fifty person harem with my cult leader. sorry.
He couldn’t help but burst into laughter as he read that. Seriously, he’d never met somebody quite like you before. The fact that you were this witty and this pretty was sort of unfair, to be honest.
You: Well, call me jealous then. I can’t compete with a cult leader.
Y/n: very single. don’t worry.
He smiled as he read that. He’d already thought you were smart and attractive, but something about your sense of humour was somehow making you even more charming. He typed a response, feeling more relieved than he felt he should be that you didn’t actually share your cult leader with forty-nine other women.
You: I’ll have to be honest, I’m happy to hear that.
Y/N: as nice as this has been actually benedict bridgerton, i unfortunatley do need sleep. I have had almost three glasses of wine and I need to confess that I’m not normally this witty and incredible. it’s all alcohol
He glanced up at the time. It was getting close to one in the morning. He typed his response, somewhat reluctant for this to come to an end for the night.
You: No shame in that. I happen to like your wine-drunk self very much
Y/n: here’s to hoping you find my normal self okay-ish as well
He honestly believed it would be impossible for him to be put off by any version of this woman.
You: Well, if you’re anything like this, I’m sure I’ll find you pretty damn good
Y/n: goodnight actually benedict bridgerton x
He chuckled as he read that. Here he was, a thirty-year-old man, getting butterflies as though he was a high schooler texting his crush.
He typed a final message before forcing himself to put his phone down and go to bed himself.
You: Goodnight, actually real girl x