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scribbleseas · 3 months

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in love & in war: the one where he meets you

Description: Join Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, as he embarks on one of the most difficult challenges of his professional life: getting you to fall in love with him in order to become the next chairman of TransAtlantica— your father’s vast shipping empire.

Warnings: The reader’s opinions are a bit old-fashioned, and they don’t reflect my own! Besides that, I’m sure there will be some explicit content down the line, but honestly, this story is much more romcom than our usually scheduled programming. It’s just a silly palette cleanser in season for Valentine’s Day.

Author’s Note: Hi! You guys expressed that you guys like more frequent posts, and I’ve reached a bit of a roadblock on my main Ciel fic right now. I thought I would write up a quick beginning to a potential drabble series! If you guys are interested in this premise, let me know! It’s fun to write such chill stakes content for once lol. Also, this isn’t based off a particular request! I’m still playing with my ideas from those, and at this point, I can confidently say you guys are getting either a one shot or a 1-3 part series based on one. Thank you all for submitting, and feel free to keep them coming.

Happy Reading!

- Dan

MASTERLIST

In Conference

April, 1895

Your life was nowhere near as easy as it seemed.

Perhaps, the average onlooker might see you and presume that the expensive jewels wrapped around your neck and your fingers were the most burdensome aspect of your privileged life. Or perhaps they might have thought it would be the pinch from your stately heels or the strain from a brilliant, yet strategic, permanent smile.

Your business smile. Your future-Countess-of-Richmond smile.

But they couldn’t have been more wrong.

This very moment was exact proof of that— you were in the midst of your world collapsing. The abject shock rattling through your mind was akin to a nightmare. Your eyebrows pulled together in a contentious pout, the horrified look you used to get away with your most childish crimes from your parents.

“Marriage? Simply not.” You begged, alreadying feeling your will to fight waver under your father’s tired stare, your mother’s pained grin. “I’m only—”

“Of perfect age to begin looking for a potential partner. 22 is well past ready, I would say,” your mother answered for you.

“I would be— but—” you sputtered like a fish out of water only to inhale deeply through your nose. You needed to collect yourself. Negotiate thoughtfully and logically. That was the only way to get yourself out of this.

“Speak with intent, Y/n,” your father interjected boredly, retraining his attention on the business reports he was reading. He fixed his glasses, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose.

Speak with intent. You knew those words well. They were your solace, the lighthouse in the storm that came with childhood temperament. Your father, no matter the cause of your distress, would answer: Speak with intent.

“Right,” you cleared your throat apologetically, glancing down at your hands as they sat clasped in your lap. “Sincerest apologies, sir.”

Your father hummed, eyebrows jumping a fraction of a centimeter. He picked up his pen and scribbled his signature at the bottom of the report. Your mother’s hand fell on the nape of his neck to make him turn his gaze back up at you. He hesitated before doing so, waiting to click a stamp onto the signed report.

“I do not wish to marry,” you enunciated your words carefully, confidently. “At least, not yet,” you added, now catching your father’s attention for the blunder. “I’ve yet to meet someone I love,” you felt your face redden, a desire to run back to your room threatening to overtake your fortitude. You were only so strong under your father, the Earl of Richmond’s deliberation stare. It struck fear into the other side of conference tables, lecture halls, and courtrooms. And now, across his desk at his only daughter.

Before your father could remind you that love wasn’t the most important aspect of a successful marriage, your mother interjected gently.

“What about the Duke of Clarence’s son, Antonio? He seemed to like you,” she prompted. Wrongly. You’d danced with Antonio at the Summer Solstice gala that the Pembroke family threw annually. The man opted to use the waltz’s entirety to brag about his family’s Italian vineyards and his love for agriculture. And, of course, his admiration for your father’s entrepreneurial genius. His shipping empire, TransAtlantica, had just successfully fortified shipping systems in all of the states; a step forward from simply cycling through all major ports along the east coast.

“He doesn’t love me,” you complained, “he loves TransAtlantica. He’d much prefer to marry our family corporation!” Antonio was suitable. He was decent, but that’s all he truly was to you. It’s all he ever could be.

You met your mother’s eyes pleadingly, and she pursed her lips, fully knowing the next words out of your mouth. You had a deal. From a young age, you knew the Richmond family, the Y/l/n line, respected contracts more than all else. Since you turned 17, you had one signed by all three parties and dated.

Your mother sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I remember the deal,” she said, taking a moment to consider her own words. The corners of her lips twitched as if she was attempting to hide her amusement with you. She understood— her own father, your grandfather, was just as militant, stiff with professionalism. Promises were negotiations with terms, signatures, and stamps. There were no arguments this way. “Dearest,” she addressed your father, the hand that was on the back jumping to his shoulder, “you do as well.”

“Do you?” You challenged, indignantly crossing your arms. “I request you restate the terms, mother.”

“If we are to pressure you into marriage before you feel ready, you must consent to the courting party,” your father took the liberty of answering gruffly. He squared his shoulders, regarding you purposefully— equal parts exhaustion and respect for your endurance. He cultivated it, after all. It was a fire that burned in your family for generations, as sacred as a temple flame.

“Yes,” you affirmed, “and so, I must choose the man I wish to be with.”

“With respect to your titles— no one below your station. And he must be chosen by the end of this courtship season,” your father added, negotiating. He tilted his head, analyzing your next move.

You knew of the first term since you were a child. You even remembered the exact day you learned them. You were a young girl, a little younger than seven. A young commoner boy had attempted to hand you a rose. Your maid at the time had scolded him for standing in the way of a noble family, since he had stepped out in front of you. It was a discernible moment, truly.

As for your father’s second term… you were unconvinced such a thing could be done.

“The end of the courtship season is in four months,” you replied, frowning. You were sure you met most eligible men in your social class. How were you to form a genuine connection in such little time? Even if you couldn’t find love per se, you still wanted to find someone you were compatible with.

“If we reach that deadline and you find no one, we can talk about it,” your mother answered. “And, you must allow me and your aunt to fix you on outings with suitors we like.

“Fine. Only if Daphne joins me,” you replied, knowing fully well that you weren’t allowed anywhere without your handmaiden present.

. . .

Next week

Your mother was sure not to waste any time in beginning to schedule supervised outings with a different well-educated and ennobled man that was within the appropriate age constraints. You’ve never had such a boring week, brutally torn away from the studies you adored so much.

“—And we’ve got another vacation home down in Tuscany, I think,” the Viscount Lineford’s son concluded, taking a peremptory drink out of his tea. He was dressed crisply in beige trousers that rolled up past his ankle and low leather shoes. His sterling watch sparkled in the spring sun.

You fought a building yawn that tempted the back of your throat, determined to hide your exhaustion with the man. It was a good effort, but you certainly weren’t impressed.

“That must be incredible,” you answered absently. “It must be such a lovely foreign getaway for the Lineford family,” you grinned diplomatically, blind to the horror that twisted his — you didn’t care to remember his name, unfortunately — face.

“Foreign? Excuse me Lady Y/n, but my family traces far back into Italian culture that we are practically Roman…” he started, only for you to interject.

“Will you just excuse me, please?” You struggled to keep the desperation out of your face, calmly searching for your supervisor. She was meant to be sitting at a table nearby, merely ensuring that your outing remained within polite societal constraints. More importantly, Daphne served as your escape when your potential suitors proved most unbearable. All you needed to do was subtly tilt your fan to your left ear and the woman would always scramble over to you with an excuse to steer you out of any scenario you found distasteful.

Such as this one.

Daphne never normally left your side, a realization that allowed worry to creep into your tone. “I’m unsure where my maid went, and I would like to fetch her,” you replied, standing and shouldering your small day bag over your shoulder.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, chuckling with bitter disbelief at your rudeness. Ladies were supposed to be demure and polite. You were impatient and honest, a product of an Earl knowing that his daughter was the object of his legacy. Your father trained you as he would a son, and your tutors followed in suit. “Surely you’re joking; this is the middle of our tea.”

Her pocketbook and her sweater weren’t even sitting on the chair she had been occupying, causing you to blink at the empty table in disbelief.

“No, I’m not. I think something might be wrong,” you shouldered past the man, stepping between other individuals sitting at the common tables in the park.

“Fine, you aren’t worth it anyway!” He called at your back, but the words hardly registered with you.

The area was rather common for courting pairs to visit in the early spring. However, it could also be populated with…criminals. “Excuse me,” you mumbled, quickly walking down the paved pathway through the greenery to the main sidewalk, the London pavement heavy with pedestrians. The streets were perhaps more crowded with carriages and sweating horses.

You couldn’t be alone in the city! As a woman of your stature, it simply wasn’t done. Never. Ever. It was an affront to your teachings, and it was unsafe. You needed your friend, not some stranger.

“Where is she?” You mumbled, rapidly attempting to discern every face that passed you. Surely it wouldn’t be long until someone recognized you— you were one of the most photographed families in the country. In fact, you were fortunate no one had offered your location to the press while you were on this outing. You never would have heard the last of it.

Some took hold of your handbag and darted off, using your distractedness to his advantage. He ran to the end of the block and crossed the street, weaving through pedestrians once the crossing guard allowed your side to walk over. If your hand hadn’t been tightly clutching the strap as you walked, you never would have noticed.

You did your best to pick up your speed and chase him, yelling out.

You cried out, glancing down at your long springtime dress. Your short heels were nowhere near efficient enough for you to make a chase out of the robbery, nor should have needed to! Even still, you lunged into the street — without looking.

In fact, if you had committed to your step, you would’ve been flattened by an oncoming carriage, given that the crossing guard had ordered pedestrians to stop passing moments prior. The only reason why you didn’t make the life-ruining step seemed to be… a tall young man with a serious face and staggering presence. He only had one exposed blue eye, the other was concealed by a black eyepatch. His grip tightened around your arm, pulling you intimately into his chest.

You breathed heavily, tearing yourself out of his arms. A flair of irritation caused you to glare at him as you righted your stance and smooth your dress. However, he did save you from a potentially life ending situation. His immediate insurance of your safety was more meaningful than a misaligned gown that you fixed in seconds.

In fact, the moment truly was a bit theatrical. The man was handsome enough to make you smile with uncertainty, your irritation melting. “Thank you for that,” you said, relieved that the sidewalk seemed to clear, the crowd dispersing from the main street. “I could have been killed.”

“That would have been quite a shame,” he replied, locking eyes with you. The man made a thin attempt at returning your smile. He was enchanting, regal… your heart skipped a beat, considerably flustered.

…Until he spoke again, completely distorting the immediate magnetic lure you felt from his sharp features: “Rather careless of you, my Lady. You ought to be smarter than that.”

You frowned. “In case you failed to notice, that man stole my handbag and essentially disappeared,” you snapped impatiently. It had your identification, emergency notes in case you needed to purchase something, the current novel you were fixated on…how were you meant to return to the estate now?

“You weren’t catching him, I don’t think,” he noted astutely, watching you as you stepped past him to go in the direction you came from. Perhaps Daphne circled back to the park in search of you. You absolutely needed to find her.

“Thank you for your help. Good day,” you answered brusquely, continuing to walk. However, he remained in stride with you, still unabashedly smug. It quickly absolved you of any former gratefulness you had toward the man for pulling you away from oncoming traffic. Perhaps it might have hurt less to have collided with a horse and a carriage over the velocity and mass of this random man’s ego.

“What, don’t tell me you going to go chase him,” He said patronizingly, a sardonic pull infecting what you thought was initially a careful smile. No, the man was just another arrogant bastard, it seemed. “In those shoes, especially,” He perused, causing you to stop once more and regard him.

“I am a noble woman, you will not speak to me in such a manner no matter what line of—“ you caught the sapphire family and silver crest rings around two of his fingers — “mediocre destitution you come from!” You jabbed purposefully, undeserving of his rudeness and his condescension, no matter what title he occupied in your class. You were the partial inheritor of TransAtlantia; you trained to run the company to some degree since you could speak. Few could step to you.

“I believe I said good day, kind sir,” you added poisonously, daring him to continue to test you before speeding back towards the park. You needed Daphne, you needed an officer…anyone besides this pompous— you ended the thought before you could further infect yourself with such unladylike curses.

It really wasn’t so easy being the daughter of an Earl.

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

“I’ve planned things so Lady Y/n’s maid is off helping a little girl find her mother; I separated the two by distracting the girl with a kitten. Y/n will panic without her maid being within her immediate reach, drawing her out to the street. I will cause her to put herself in harm’s way by distracting her at the corner of 89th Street and Arthur. Be ready by the street post. I’ve made the new paralegal late to his case, he will have instructed his butler to drive quick. You will need to pull her away from the street. If you miss, things may end rather…unfortunately for the young woman,” Ciel Phantomhive’s butler, Sebastian Michealis, outlined.

Sebastian was Ciel’s head butler, his head chef, head landscaper, tailor, tutor… but most importantly, the Earl of Phantomhive’s contracted demon. The supernatural being was at his disposal and his bidding; his new role being the most interesting one of all: matchmaker. He fabricated a scene for Ciel to meet Y/n Y/l/n, and ideally, make her love him.

It was simple, really. Ciel needed a wife; Y/n’s family needed a competent businessman to run that prosperous giant of a shipping enterprise; and most importantly, the woman seemed to be rather competent. The only danger to his strategy was, of course, Y/n’s foul storybook idealism, apparently. Ciel knew Y/n was highly educated and well graced in ettiquiete, but she seemed intent on finding some happily ever after of sorts.

She wanted a husband— a bloody love match. No— she needed an actor to convince her that she was worth marrying beyond the incredible status she represented. There was no asset greater than a title and an economic monarchy to inherit, and securing such a prize meant that Ciel needed to woo her.

“My Lord, you must be considerate, but not too kind. Though you should also refrain from acting too smugly or the lady may take offense,” his butler had offered some horrifically embarrassing — and incredibly unhelpful — acting lessons for him to express the particular warmth Lady Y/n seemed to be looking for.

Love. A feeling Ciel hadn’t known in around nine years. Arguably, it could’ve been more. And yet, in order to stop being solicited by desperate mothers and unlikely candidates, he was securing his bride.

According to Ciel’s butler, that meant he needed to create a memorable foundation in the woman’s mind, an introduction that would leave her curious, impassioned. Wanting more. Something to make him stand out amongst the other faceless, classless mouth breathers who would be vying for TransAtlantica, now that word of her search for a suitor was widespread.

The company and Y/n’s hand were all one in the same courtship, and Ciel was sure the was going to win both.

The Earl of Phantomhive was never one to lose. He’d be remiss to start now.

#anime fanfiction #black butler fanfic #historical fiction #ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel x reader #sebastian michaelis #black butler

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 3 months

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And I Know It's Sad, But This Is What I Think About

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 4

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

6.2k words

Warnings: Language, brief mentions of alcohol, spoilers for The Great Gatsby

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Thank you as always to @agentstarkid for being the best and reading all my silly love stories💕

After my third Richmond game, April and I found ourselves once again having dinner with the Greyhounds at Ola’s. This time, Roy Kent and I sat with some of the players, who I was pleased to watch flirt with April; my beautiful assistant and best friend deserved the attention of hot, rich athletes, I decided.

While flirting with professional soccer players seemed to come easy to April, it felt like Roy and I were still figuring out how to flirt with each other. We sat close enough that our shoulders were touching, I flashed him plenty of coy smiles, and he made a point to whisper in my ear every now and then- although it was usually something like “Can I fucking leave now?” But still, if we were going to convince people that this was real, we’d probably have to step things up soon.

I remembered something Keeley had texted me the day before- we needed another date, and soon.

“What’re you doing tomorrow?” I murmured, loud enough for only Kent to hear.

He grunted and shifted in his seat. “Why?” After I simply narrowed my eyes at him, he sighed. “Keeley texted you too, hmm?” He sighed, shoveling another bite into his mouth. “What were you thinking?”

I thought for a moment, trying to avoid something simple like dinner, where we’d have to talk to each other and act like two people who were interested in each other. “Want to go on a picnic? We could bring a couple of books. Wouldn’t have to say a word to each other.”

Roy blinked, clearly processing what I’d just said; I could practically hear gears whirring before he finally spoke. “Sounds fucking perfect.”

Satisfied that I’d done my part, I turned my attention back to my delicious meal; if I got nothing else out of this fake relationship, at least I’d be well-fed for the next few months.

“Hey there!” Keeley Jones plopped down on my other side, smiling broadly at me.

Suddenly very aware of the eyes of the team on me, the way they’d been the night I “met” Keeley the first time I visited Ola’s, I returned her smile with one of my own, going so far as to playfully bump her shoulder with mine.

“Thank you again for inviting us to sit with you and Rebecca,” I gushed, and I really meant it; if I was going to be hanging out at Nelson Road, it was nice to do so in a comfortable suite with champagne in my hand. “It was actually really fun.”

Keeley’s smile widened; it was warm and friendly and genuine, making it obvious why everyone seemed to adore her. “I’m so glad you enjoyed yourself! We’ll have to get you a Kent kit now, eh? I’ve got an old one you could have if you like.”

I swore Roy stiffened next to me. “That’s alright,” I assured her. “I think April was going to order one for me to wear to their next game.” I turned to Roy with a shrug. “Gotta look the part, right?”

Roy mumbled something about getting another beer and stood, pausing only to briefly touch my shoulder; I ignored how warm his touch was. Once he was gone, I turned my attention back to Keeley, whose eyes were following Roy with something that looked a lot like pity.

“How’re you two getting on?” she asked in a low voice, scooching closer.

The only response that felt right was a shrug. “It’s fine,” I murmured. “Definitely working on getting used to each other. Going from complete strangers to dating is… a unique way of getting to know someone.” She seemed to be waiting for me to continue, so I added, “We’re going on a picnic tomorrow. I told him we could bring a couple books, that way we don’t have to just stare at each other the whole time.”

The corner of Keeley’s mouth tugged upwards knowingly. “Now that is a perfect idea,” she said, eyes shifting back to Roy as he approached, beer in hand. “Absolutely perfect.”

“How’s here?”

Roy grunted in response and dropped the picnic basket to the ground. Ten minutes felt like far too long to look for the “perfect” picnic spot, but Keeley had been kind of specific; it needed to be a public enough spot that they would be seen, but secluded enough that it didn’t look like they were trying to be seen.

He was beginning to wish they’d just gone to the pub again; at least then he could have a pint.

Instead, he helped spread out the blanket they’d brought with them and opened up the picnic basket, the one Keeley had dropped off at his house early that morning and that his date- when the fuck would he have to start saying girlfriend?- had loaded with lunch and snacks. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of food she’d packed. Probably something trendy and vegan-y. Was she a vegan? Roy didn’t fucking know. But she was young and trendy and pretty and-

“Here.” She shoved something wrapped in white paper into his hands. “Should we eat first?”

Roy gingerly unwrapped the bundle, immediately recognizing its contents. “Is this a fucking kebab?”

She shrugged, already chomping on a bite of her own kebab. “Yeah. That a problem?”

Ignoring the annoyance in her voice, Roy took a bite; fuck, he’d know that flavor anywhere. “Where’d you get this?”

“That kebab place you like.” Her tone was casual, as if it didn’t matter. “I asked Keeley what you like, she sent me the address.” After eating another bite, she shrugged. “The owner asked me to bring in a headshot next time, said he’d give me free kebabs for life.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Roy’s grip tightened on his kebab; he ate there at least once a week and still was never given so much as a discount. But she goes in once and gets kebabs for life? Fucking hell. Well, at least he’d get to take advantage for the next few months. Maybe he would benefit from this charade after all.

Still munching on her kebab, she reached into the bag she’d brought and pulled out a book, settling herself into a comfortable position before opening it. Roy took the hint and grabbed his own book out of the picnic basket, a murder mystery his sister had given him for his birthday. He glanced up over the top of his book to get a glimpse of what she was reading.

“The Great Gatsby?” he asked, raising his thick eyebrows.

She nodded, her gaze still on her book. “It’s my favorite,” she said simply. After a moment, her eyes flickered up to meet Roy’s. “I try to read it every year.”

Not sure why he was still talking, Roy sat up a little straighter. “Every year? I mean, yeah, it’s a fucking good book, but why would you read it every fucking year?”

“It’s… familiar.” She set the book down, now fully looking at Roy. “Everyone is desperate to be at Gatsby’s parties, to be surrounded by his wealth and glamor, to drink his booze and enjoy his hospitality.” She frowned, eyes flittering back to the book. “But then only a handful of people attend his funeral. Once the party is over, no one cares about him anymore.” She looked back at Roy. “That’s going to be me, isn’t it?”

Roy was speechless. Something about the softness in her eyes was so familiar, almost like looking in a mirror. That’s going to be me, isn’t it? How many times had Roy mumbled something just as cynical and broken? How many people- reporters, women, friends, even family- had stopped calling once he slowed down? How many more once he stepped off the field for the last time? In her eyes Roy could see the same dejection and fear of loneliness that had nestled itself inside Roy’s chest these last few years. It was something hard to explain, something one could only understand if they’d felt it deep in their souls. And it seemed to be something they both shared.

But instead of admitting to understanding how she felt and allowing her to glimpse behind his scowls and hard expressions, Roy simply shifted on the blanket and bit off his lunch. “Fucking hell. Are you always some fucking tortured poet, sunshine?”

Her face faltered for only a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for Roy to want to kick himself for ruining the moment. She quickly recovered, picking her book back up and burying herself back into Jay Gatsby’s empty affluence. “Read your fucking book, Kent,” she mumbled, flipping a page absently. “There’s a photographer in those bushes.”

Sure enough, when Roy glanced around out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out the familiar sight of a camera lens.

“So, how’s it going with Roy Kent?”

Lanie looked perky as we sat in her office. My guard was immediately up; a perky publicist was never a good sign, I’d learned. It usually meant they had something rotten to tell you.

Anticipating whatever it was, I slouched into my seat, ready to narrow my eyes or scowl at a moment’s notice. “It’s fine,” I mumbled. “Keeley Jones said our picnic date got a lot of positive attention, and she said the Greyhounds’ viewership has skyrocketed since I started attending matches. So, it looks like we’re doing our jobs pretty well. Is my press looking good?”

Lanie nodded, eyes on her phone. “Good, good,” she said absently, as if she wasn’t really listening.

“Lanie?” I called.

She looked back up at me. “Well, with the Roy Kent stuff, you’ve got plenty of attention, and it looks like people are excited to see you in a new relationship, especially with someone who looks like him.” She ignored the way I wrinkled my nose. “But, uh, this morning I got wind of something that might take a little attention away from you and Roy.” She handed me her phone with a grimace.

The photo was kind of blurry, but I knew the two figures immediately. Everett- my most recent ex- nuzzling close to Cameron, the woman who had once called herself my best friend until she found out that a boyfriend of hers hit on me. Even though I had clearly rebuffed him and told Cam right away, she very publicly ended our friendship and even more publicly accused me of trying to steal her man. And now, irony of ironies, there she was, attached to my ex-boyfriend like the leech Lanie had always warned me she was.

“Lovely,” I finally snorted, gingerly handing the phone back to Lanie. “Do we think it’s real or just for attention? I know Cam’s new show starts filming soon.”

Lanie rolled her eyes. “Please, they’re not clever enough to pull off something calculated. If anything, he’s trying to make you jealous and she’s trying to get revenge on you. Idiots.” She sighed and dropped her phone onto the coffee table. “But, of course, your name’s being dragged into it. The phrase ‘love triangle’ has been trending on Twitter all morning.”

“Gross.”

“Agreed.” Lanie rolled her neck, something she often did when she was stressed. “I’ve been on the phone with Keeley this morning, and we both agree it’s time to step things up with you and Roy. Go public, make things official. Attend an event together that’s not a Richmond dinner.”

How much further could I slouch before I ended up lying down on the couch? “What event did you guys have in mind?”

“Your annual fabulous karaoke party!”

Keeley Jones strutted into the office with Roy right behind her. She greeted Lanie and I each with friendly hugs and kisses on cheeks; Roy, on the other hand, opted for short nods to each of us. Lanie stood and motioned for Roy to take her seat beside me; we shuffled awkwardly to ensure our knees wouldn’t bump.

Once we were all settled, I turned to Keeley, who now stood next to Lanie. “My karaoke party?” I echoed, feeling my stomach churn.

The “party” was the main fundraiser I threw every year for my nonprofit back home; it was near and dear to my heart, incredibly personal, and my favorite night of the year.

And now I’d have to share it with Roy Kent.

Sensing my unease, Lanie smiled at me, one of her reassuring smiles, the kind she always had for me after a bad bit of press. “It’ll be great publicity,” she pointed out. “You’ll probably raise even more than you did last year. Can you imagine how many people will register for the livestream? Especially if he sings,” she added, pointing at Roy.

“Sing?” the manager practically spat. “I have to sing at this party?”

With a sigh that even I knew was overdramatic, I turned to look at him, taking in his scowl and furrowed brow. “It’s a karaoke party,” I explained slowly, remembering how condescending he’d been the very first time we’d spoken in front of the elevator at Keeley’s office. “People pay a pretty penny for a ticket, there’s a paid livestream of all the singing, and I always release a new song, with all the proceeds going to my nonprofit. It’s… kind of a big deal.”

When Roy frowned, I could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed this new information. After a moment of silence, he opened his mouth. “You should invite some of the guys. They’d definitely fucking sing.”

Keeley bounced happily at Roy’s suggestion. “That would be perfect! And it would really show the two of you becoming part of each other’s worlds too.” She quickly tapped at her phone, somehow lighting up even brighter. “And it’s a bye week for them!” She shot me a wink. “Looks like the universe is really lining things up for us, hmm?”

All I could do was smile weakly, my mind spinning from learning about my ex-boyfriend and ex-friend becoming an item and finding out that I’d have to spend my favorite night of the year with a man who had barely glanced at me since that night we played darts together. I made up my mind to ask Lanie if my reputation really needed this much help or if she, as usual, was overreacting. Just as soon as Roy and Keeley left, I decided. Surely, with the numbers my upcoming tour sales was doing, along with the amount of people already signed up for the fundraiser’s livestream, and with all this social media attention, could dating a former soccer star turned grumpy coach really help that much?

“Oi, sunshine, your place or mine?”

Sunshine. Roy’s gruff use of the name he’d mumbled during our picnic had me snapping back to attention, out of my planned objections to my publicist. I stared at Roy blankly, trying to imagine what in the hell I’d missed that had him prompting what I thought he might be prompting- especially in front of his ex-girlfriend.

“She was zoning out,” Lanie quickly explained as she threw an M&M at me, her usual way of bringing me back to attention. “We want you two to have a sleepover,” she said loudly, as if she was repeating herself- which she probably was. “Something simple and domestic. Something you can post on your socials so continue this little soft launch. Something to help make things believable.”

Roy nodded. “Keeley says just being seen in public isn’t enough to make it seem real. We’ve got to really sell this shit.” He scowled at me. “So, your place or mine?”

Okay, so that made a lot more sense than what I’d feared he was asking me. “My place,” I said, clearing my throat. “You can come over to my place.”

Roy let out a low growl as he pulled up to the front gate of the address on his phone. He quickly punched in the gate code she’d sent him, relieved he didn’t have to call her to let him in, and drove up the short driveway.

Her house wasn’t what he’d imagined; with the money he- and the rest of the world- knew she was worth, Roy’d figured she lived in a fucking castle or some modern monstrosity. Instead, he walked in the moonlight to the door of a sweet two-story house, blinking as he read the doormat that declared “There’s no place like home”. He heaved his duffel bag over his shoulder and sharply knocked on the door, sucking his breath between his teeth. Another step in this weird, weird fucking situation he found himself in.

When the door opened, Roy instinctively took a step back, forcing himself to look her in the eye. She nodded curtly to him, gesturing for him to enter the house. “Kent,” was her simple greeting.

He returned the curt reception with a grunt of his own and followed her inside and into her sitting room, marveling at how the house did not match his expectations. He’d figured it would be something like Keeley’s place, all bright and pink and stylish with fluffy pillows everywhere. But everything was simple and cozy, and there were a lot more photos than he expected. Her family, he assumed, as his eyes lingered on a photo of her with a couple of pre-teen kids. In one corner was a piano, one he figured she used a lot, and one wall was completely covered with a bookshelf, which housed a large and clearly well-used library. It reminded Roy a bit of his own place if he was being honest. Simple, homey, and probably a refuge from a life lived in the public eye.

Before he could ask about the framed drawing that was clearly done by a child around Pheobe’s age, something brushed against Roy’s leg. “What the fuck?” he bellowed, looking down to see a cat staring back up at him.

“That’s Sydney,” his host explained, picking up the animal. “Syd, say hi to Roy.” She kissed the top of the cat’s head. “Apparently we need to get used to him,” she stage-whispered into the cat’s fur.

Roy snorted as he focused his gaze on the cat. He could almost appreciate the sarcasm in her voice- almost. Instead, he gestured to his duffel bag. “Where can I set this down? Are you sticking me in the backyard, or do I have to sleep in my car?”

With something resembling a smirk on her lips, she set the cat down and once again beckoned for Roy to follow her. “I’ve got a guest room,” she assured him as she led him down the hall. She let Roy enter the room alone, choosing to linger in the hallway and watch him drop his bag to the floor. She cleared her throat as the cat- Sydney- caught up with them. “I ordered a pizza,” she mumbled, shifting her weight. “We could, I don’t fucking know, watch a movie or something until, well...”

Right. Fucking sleepover. “Yeah, sounds fine,” Roy muttered, staring at the cat. He’d probably spend most of his night looking at the animal, he realized. “I’m just gonna… throw on some fucking sweats. If that’s alright.”

She nodded, her cool demeanor reappearing. “Do your thing,” she said airily. “Let me know if you need anything.” After giving Roy a firm, businesslike nod, she was gone.

With a shake of his head, Roy quickly threw on some sweats and a t-shirt, trying not to put too much thought into what the evening ahead held. Was this really necessary? Did the other fake couples Keeley knew- which she assured him was quite a few- have to go to such lengths? Knowing Keeley, she was probably just trying to push Roy’s buttons, see how far she could take this shit before Roy snapped.

But again, he was trying to prove to her that he was willing to go above and beyond for her. Anything for Keeley, he reminded himself as he trudged back into the sitting room.

He plopped himself down on the couch, where Sydney the Cat was already perched and watching Roy with narrowed cat eyes. Jamie had once compared Roy to a cat during a team dinner, he remembered. Not very social, easy to annoy, but incredibly loyal and affectionate once they decided to let someone in. Keeley had found the comparison hilarious and proceeded to call Roy “Fluffy” for the rest of the night. He chuckled to himself at the memory; he should send Keeley a picture of Sydney and let her know he remembered the joke. He always remembered Keeley’s jokes.

As he reached for his mobile, a voice came from the direction of what he assumed was the kitchen. “You eat pepperoni, right? I forgot to ask.”

The most glamorous popstar in the world strolled back into the sitting room holding a cardboard box in her hands with two bottles of beer balanced on top. Instead of her usual dresses or fashionable outfits Roy and the rest of the world was used to seeing her in, she wore a particularly tiny pair of sleep shorts and a Greyhounds sweatshirt- the one Roy had seen her wear to their matches lately.

Roy wasn’t blind. He knew she was a stunning woman, whether she was on an album cover or, apparently, in her pyjamas. And if he’d bothered to give the matter even two seconds of thought, he would’ve noted that he rather liked her figure, especially when she looked so comfortable and domestic. But Roy couldn’t think about that. Not when he heard Keeley’s name come out of her mouth.

“Keeley said to make sure we both post on our socials,” she was saying, either missing or ignoring the way Roy’s eyes lingered for a moment too long on her bare legs. “Why I couldn’t just send you something to post is beyond me.” She set the pizza down on the coffee table and plopped onto the couch, a respectable distance from Roy’s spot. “Like, is you coming over really, truly necessary?”

Roy snorted and made himself busy with a beer. “I was thinking the same thing,” he admitted. “But Keeley’s always got a method to her fucking madness. You learn to just fucking go with it.” Deciding he needed to look at something that wasn’t the way she was stretching out comfortably on her couch, Roy stood abruptly and meandered over to her bookshelf. “You read a lot?” he said, scanning her collection more closely now.

“When I can,” came her breezy answer. “I’d love to say I’ve read everything on that shelf, but that’s mostly a collection of books I want to read.”

“Maybe we can do more reading dates.” Roy didn’t know what the fuck made him say that; it just slipped out as he stared at a particularly worn copy of The Bell Jar. When he glanced over his shoulder, he was surprised to see a smile on her face.

She shrugged and sipped her own beer. “Sure, Kent. Sounds good.”

Ignoring whatever feeling was forming in his chest, Roy returned to the shelf, recognizing some names and finding himself curious about others. Finally, he spotted a stack of games on the bottom shelf. He noted that there were about four versions of the same game. “You like Scrabble?” he blurted out, desperate to put distance between himself and his picnic suggestion.

“Love it,” she laughed. “When my parents came to the States from Mexico, they were each pretty young and worked really hard to learn English. They wanted to make sure all of their kids were fluent in English, so in our house we were always reading and playing games like Scrabble.” Her smile became a smirk. “My youngest brother refuses to play with me anymore because I kind of win a lot.”

The competitive streak that made Roy a football legend started to bubble up in his chest. “That so?” He picked up one of the boxes and brought it over to the coffee table. “Let’s see, then.”

“You can’t put that word!” I cackled, throwing my head back when I saw the word Roy was putting on the board.

Roy smirked and put the ‘C’ down with finality. “I absolutely fucking can. And I did so…” He shrugged. “Gimme my points, sunshine.”

After updating Roy’s score, I snapped a photo of the board. “That’s going on Instagram,” I warned him with a smirk. I quickly shared the picture and put my phone down, trusting that Lanie would text me later about the post blowing up.

We finished one game, then another, and started a third. We didn’t talk much, but it didn’t feel as awkward as those first few dinners with the Greyhounds. Sydney laid close to Roy, clearly already used to him, and I couldn’t deny the warm feeling in my chest when I saw him absently stroke her fur between turns. Maybe we’ll be friends, I thought fondly as I put down the tiles for my latest turn. Real, actual friends.

“Calamitous?” Roy read, wrinkling his nose. “What the fuck is calamitous? Is that even a word?”

I smirked and sipped my beer. “It absolutely is!” I stood and strolled over to my bookshelf, returning with the Scrabble dictionary my sister had given me a couple years ago. “Look it up.”

After shooting me a suspicious look, Roy flipped through the book; his scowl told me he had indeed found calamitous.

“It’s a good word,” I said as I sat back down. “One of my favorites. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to put it in a song.”

His gaze turned thoughtful as he stared at his letter tiles. “You written anything lately?” Before I could answer, he opened his mouth again. “You said something about a song for your fundraiser thing. It’s a new one, right?”

I nodded, squirming a bit as I thought about the song, one I’d been pouring a lot of myself into. “Yeah. I always release a new song after the party.” My eyes fell so Sydney, curled up close to Roy. “Want to hear a bit?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

His almost silly answer was enough to get me to my feet and retrieving my guitar from the extra room I often worked in. When I came back, Roy sat up straight, his gaze trained on my guitar as I settled on the couch.

“It’s called ‘Nothing New’,” I explained as I began to strum my guitar. “Here’s the chorus.”

Lord, what will become of me

Once I've lost my novelty?

I've had too much to drink tonight

And I know it's sad, but this is what I think about

And I wake up in the middle of the night

It's like I can feel time moving

How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?

And will you still want me when I'm nothing new?

When I finally looked at Roy, his mouth was agape, and he was blinking rapidly.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered. “That’s good. That’s really fucking good.” He shook his head. “Reminds me of that shit you said the other day, about Gatsby and funerals and all that.” He sighed, a heavy, sad sound, and his voice was almost impossible to hear. “Fucking reminds me of me.”

I didn’t know what to say to that; I vaguely knew the story of Roy’s injury, the one that ended his career, and Dani had said something about it taking a while for Roy to find his way back to Richmond after his retirement. But I didn’t think Roy was the kind of person who liked to talk about anything, let alone what was probably the worst time in his life. So instead, I watched him stare stonily at my silent guitar, not saying a word when he stood abruptly, something I was quickly getting used to seeing.

“I should fucking sleep,” he mumbled, taking care to grab a couple of empty bottles. “Gotta be out of here early for training. Thanks for the pizza. And the beer.” He nodded to my guitar. “And the song.” After nudging Sydney gently with his foot, Roy turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen; I didn’t move from my spot until I heard the guest room door shut with finality.

Roy sighed as he sat down in front of the assembled reporters, all waiting to pounce on him after a hard-earned Greyhound victory. As always, Keeley stood in the back of the room, an encouraging smile on her face, the kind of smile that always gave Roy the strength to tackle what was probably his least favorite part of the job.

He answered several questions about the match- probably one of their best of the season, if he was being honest with himself- before the topic he was dreading finally reared its head.

“Coach Kent,” some wanker from a publication Roy couldn’t be bothered to remember called out, “care to say anything about the rumors concerning your latest fling?”

Instinctively, Roy bared his teeth and squared his shoulders before leaning forward, ready to growl out, “No.” However, a raised eyebrow from Keeley had him taking a deep breath; she’d trained him for this, he reminded himself. He knew what he was supposed to say. “We’re just… spending time together,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “It’s been… nice, getting to know each other.” When he looked at Keeley, she was giving him a big thumbs up; it was enough to have him continue. “She’s different than I expected,” he added, nodding more to himself than anyone else.

“How’d you two meet?”

He coughed into his hand; he knew how to answer this, too. “She’s good friends with Dani Rojas,” he explained, wondering if it sounded as rehearsed as it felt. “So, she came to a match and then came out with the team afterwards. We danced a little, and then she gave me her phone number.” Again, Keeley smiled encouragingly. “It’s been kind of fucking cool, having her at our matches. She’s really embraced the Richmond way.” That last bit was something Keeley had come up with; normally, Roy would think it sounded incredibly lame and positively cheesy. But, since Keeley was the mastermind, he didn’t complain one bit.

Another reporter spoke up. “Will you be at her upcoming fundraiser? The karaoke party is legendary.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Roy answered with what he hoped was a good-natured smirk. “Get enough drinks in me, I might even fucking sing.” For a brief moment, the chuckles that filled the room reminded Roy of how this room sounded when Ted was there; he hadn’t realized he actually missed that sound.

“Have you heard her new song?” The voice was hopeful, as if Roy was about to give everyone a big scoop, let the sports reporters have something the gossip columnists would kill for.

For the first time since the press conference began, Roy’s smile was real. “I’ve heard a little,” he admitted. “And I won’t tell you a fucking thing, except that it’s fucking brilliant.”

Roy maneuvered around a few more questions- Would she be attending more Richmond matches? (“Hopefully.”) Would Roy be going to any of the shows during her upcoming tour. (“We’ll see.”) Who won their Scrabble tournament? (“No fucking comment.”)- before he was finally set free. He and Keeley reconvened in his office, making sure no one else was around before assessing how Roy’s first official acknowledgement of the “relationship” had gone.

“You did a great job,” Keeley assured him from her perch on the edge of his desk, a spot she’d taken countless times. “Might be the most charming I’ve ever seen you at a presser, Roy. Looks like she’s really rubbing off on you.” Her wink had Roy’s insides squirming. “Did you really hear the song already?”

“Yeah,” Roy mumbled, slouching in his seat. “She played some for me the other night, during our sleepover.” He surprised even himself by not rolling his eyes at the word sleepover. “It’s fucking sad,” he continued, completely unprompted. “But really beautiful. Nothing like the fluffy stuff you hear on the radio.”

Keeley gently tossed a stray paperclip at Roy. “Oi, I like her fluffy stuff! And so does Phoebe, I might add.” Her smile widened. “Your niece wants to know when you’re introducing her to your girlfriend, by the way. It’s all she talked about at our last Pheebs and Keels Day.”

Roy shook his head. “Oh no,” he scoffed, folding his arms. “Not fucking happening. Last thing I need is for her to get attached. Look what happened with-”

Fuck.

The smile disappeared from Keeley’s face. “Right,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands. “Yeah, might not be the best idea, eh?” After a moment, she perked up again, reigniting the energy in the room. “Have you two kissed yet?”

“What the fuck Keeley?” Roy hissed, looking around the obviously empty office; she’d sure recovered quickly from the awkward moment he’d caused.

She shrugged, clearly unfazed. “You’re officially together and are starting to go out in public as a couple. It’ll look funny if you don’t start being affectionate soon. I figured maybe you two’d gotten it out of the way already, so your first kiss isn’t in front of the cameras."

Shit. Roy hadn’t even started to think about how they’d act now that things were “official”. Had she?

“Don’t fucking worry about it,” Roy mumbled, wondering why he was blushing so furiously. “I’m a forty-year-old man, Keeley. I know how to kiss a woman.”

“Yeah, but she’s not just any woman,” Keeley pointed out as she stood. “Just something to think about.” She paused, studying Roy’s face carefully. “You really did do a good job in there, Roy. I almost believed you for a second, smiling and blushing as you gushed about that gorgeous girl.” Her smile returned, completely full of mischief. “Anything you want to share?”

Roy narrowed his eyes at his ex and threw the paper clip she’d tossed at him earlier. “Fuck off, Keeley,” was all he managed before the giggling blonde strutted out of the office. He looked down at his phone to check where the guys would be going after the match; after all, he was expected to be there with-

“Hey there!”

Roy looked up at the sound of Keeley’s cheery voice. His “girlfriend” came into view, smiling tightly at Keeley as they squeezed by each other through the doorway. The popstar saluted as she entered the office.

“Hey, Kent,” she hummed, pausing by the door and leaning against the frame. “I was thinking, want to ride to the restaurant together?”

He heard what she said. He knew he had. But the only thing he could focus on was her mouth, the same mouth that had left lipstick marks on his cheek and had formed a smile when she won two Scrabble games in a row. The same mouth he’d have to kiss soon. He’d kissed plenty of women; hell, he’d more than kissed plenty of women. And those were kisses he’d actually meant.

So why the fuck did his palms feel sweaty at the thought of fake-kissing this woman?

“Kent? Kent?”

Oh fucking hell, she’d caught him staring.

Roy cleared his throat and stood up, pocketing his mobile. “Alright, yeah. Let’s go.”

She narrowed her eyes at him as they walked out of the office. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fucking fine.” Roy’s hand balled into a fist at his side as he fought the urge to clear his throat again.

“Okay then.” They walked silently down the hall, looking nothing at all like a couple in love. Finally, she bumped him with her shoulder. “Saw your press conference,” she said, her voice light and teasing.

Roy nodded, wondering if his face looked as warm as it felt. “What’d you think?”

When he glanced at her, she was staring straight ahead- and smiling. “You told them you liked the song.” Her voice could only be described as pleased.

“Well, yeah,” Roy mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s the truth. It’s… it’s really fucking good. I can’t wait to hear the rest.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Finally, she looked at him, her face serious now. “Hey, there’s some reporters hanging around outside. D’you think we should hold hands or something?”

Roy’s eyes flickered down to her outstretched hand before returning to her face; she gazed at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for his answer.

“Probably a good idea,” he murmured. With that, he took her hand in his, giving it a small squeeze as they walked out of the Dog Track.

He kept her hand in his as they walked through the parking lot; while his eyes stayed trained on his giant black car, she smiled sweetly at the couple of reporters who called their names and even offered a small wave in their direction. Roy held her door open and helped her climb inside, closing the door once she was settled. Once he was in the driver’s seat, he resisted the urge to grab her hand; old habit from dating Keeley, he told himself.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why his hand felt so cold without her fingers intertwined with his.

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas@eugene-emt-roe@littleesilvia@teenwolf01@sisinever@yagotgames@queen-of-the-downtown-scene @emmaallisonann @mrdsturd @confessionsofatotaldramaslut

#roy kent i'll write your name #roy kent iwyn #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #ted lasso fanfiction

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my-soupy-brain · 2 months

Note

can stop thinking about having a baby with ted and ted holding the lil baby close against his hairy chest. much to ponder. would probably make me wanna get a start on baby #2

I don't have kids but I'd be lying if I hadn't thought about this with Ted. Because he's such a loving partner and dad. And watching him do daddy duty would be... so sexy. And it's Valentine's Day. So let's work that in. Let's gooo!

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Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warnings: Baby, cute, comfort, and some sexy

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You stirred in the morning, and rested for once. You almost forgot...

BABY?!

But you turn on the other side and see Ted, snuggled up with your daughter on his bare chest. Her head is turned, her lips softly parted, her hands in little fists. Ted is propped against his pillow, his lips slightly parted. His chest rising and lowering slowly under Marie's rounded cheek.

She seems content. Nonplussed by the coarse dark hair under her face. She quirks a smile in her slumber, and you think...

"Same, little miss. Same. I also love your daddy's chest."

You don't dare move to ruin this moment. Except to slowly, like a sloth, grab your phone off your nightstand to snap a quiet photo of this perfect Kodak moment.

But stupid butterfingers, the phone slips and you let out a soft yelp, your head snapping back to the slumbering duo. Marie's eyes open at you for just a second. Ted hums, and they both resettle into dreamland.

You turn on your side and tickle Marie's chubby little fist, and she instinctively opens her tiny fingers and wraps them around your hand. Ted's hand is over Marie's diapered bottom and cozy Richmond onesie.

The AFC Richmond merch shop didn't have a whole lot of baby gear in store until Marie came along. And Rebecca and Higgins decided it was time to outfit little miss in the finest red and blue threads at the club.

And now the shop burst with baby gear, which Marie had plenty of in her room.

Ted's eyes flutter open dreamily, and a smile creeps on his lips under his neatly groomed mustache. His hair falls over his forehead, and he looks so delicious like this you could eat him up.

"Hey sugar," Ted whispers, gazing at you with equal adoration. "She was fussy this mornin' so I got up to snuggle her and we ended up here."

"I like that you did," you whisper back, leaning in to kiss his gentle lips.

"I see our daughter is as much a fan of your beautiful body as I am," you continue, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. "Like mother like daughter."

Ted blushes a little, looking down at his sleeping daughter, then back at you and the hunger in your eyes. His breath hitches.

"I think she can go back to her crib," he whispers. "Don't you dare move," he says to you with a sensual gaze.

You admire his little love handles over his boxer briefs. The strong expanse of his shoulders. Ted doesn't think much of his body, not when he's coaching a bunch of muscular 20-somethings, but you wouldn't change a single inch of your husband's body.

Your body thrums at that. You hear him set Marie down, turn on her mobile above her crib, and the door gently close.

He comes back to bed and immediately dives slowly in, bringing your body under his. Your fingertips and nails rake through the chest hair, up his neck, holding his face, and looking into his eyes.

"You aren't careful with that look, Mr. Lasso, and we'll have baby number two in no time," you joke. Ted nuzzles close to your ear, kissing, nipping, his hands kneading your breasts under your nightgown.

"Mmm, is that so?" he huskily drawls with a short, sharp breath. "Well, maybe we should practice first."

You smile as he kisses down your neck, to your collarbone, then teases your breast with his tongue, his teeth. He rolls between your legs, and you wrap around him close, where his hands can travel up your thighs and under your satin nightgown.

"Not gonna lie, babe, but seeing you cuddling with our daughter this morning," you say, rolling your eyes and biting your lip playfully.

"You love it when I'm on daddy duty, huh?" Ted jokes, his lips still peppering across your skin.

"I really, really, realllllly do," you whimper, moaning a little at his hands near your inner thighs.

"My God, sugar, I need you like oxygen right now," he whispers, your voices quiet in the stillness of the morning, hoping for some extra time together, which has been hard to come by.

"Well, what'do we say, coach? Practice makes perfect?"

Ted smiles at you, capturing your lips with his, his tongue teasing along your mouth, swallowing your gasps as his body meets yours.

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Oooh, saucy! But also, so incredibly sweet. Such a turn on. Ted is a swoon indeed. I loved this prompt. Baby + Ted? Yes please. All day. Alllll day.

NOTE: Marie is the name of the little girl born who-knows-how-many-fics ago so I just stuck with it. I'll update with a link here when I track it down - ha!

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso x you #ted lasso smut

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tinydeskwriter · 1 year

Text

Cosmopolitan:Behold, Y/n and Harry Styles’s Relationship Timeline

A/N: I wanted to try my hand in a Harry Styles/Royal Family Member situation. I ended it in the year 2020 because it was getting to much. There is no faceclaim, I just choose the pictures that fitted better into the narrative. Please, If you enjoyed, comment, I would love to hear your thoughts and I am always open for new ideas.

word count: 4807

Much like a rich old man and a dusty bottle of port on a yacht, Princess Y/n and Harry Styles are a match made in heaven. There was drama, a lifetime of rumors, sweet reunions and, of course, that Cartier engagement ring.

This couple’s love story was one for the ages. From meeting on the backstage of a One Direction concert to getting married, leaving royal duty, having a cute baby, and becoming the power couple the whole world has been obsessed with, they’ve being through it all. And after a whole decade of on and off, facing tons of unfair scrutiny, they only seem stronger. On that note, let’s walk down memory lane through a timeline of their romance—including it’s ups and downs.

Circa 2012

Harry and Y/n met for the first time in early 2012, a the backstage of a One Direction’s concert in London, according to one of Harry’s close friends from Holmes Chapel, ‘Harry must have been mind-blown to meet Y/n, he always had a crush on her’.

The first photo we can find of Harry and Y/n ever being in the same place is from November that same year at the Royal Variety Performance, where the princess attended alongside her grandmother, Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth.

In December 1, the One Direction boys shared on their personal Twitter accounts about Princess Y/n’s cookbook, with the aim of raising funds for the Red Cross and for the victims of Hurricane Sandy. The book sold out on pre-order. Two days later, Y/n was spotted on the band’s Madison Square Garden Concert.

The two of them reportedly exchanged phone numbers to ‘keep tabs on each other’ ~ even though Styles was already rumored to be dating TS at the time~.

Arabella Ferrer, Y/n’s roommate at the time, said later to a tabloid ‘they are both dating other people, but you could see that there was a mutual crush’.

In 2012, Y/n was rumored to be dating on and off ‘for a couple of years already’, billionaire Hugh Grosvenor, son of the Duke of Westminster and godfather to her nephew Prince George.

2013

By January Harry and Taylor were already old history, and Y/n was no longer with her billionaire boyfriend.

Y/n was photographed by paparazzi attending Harry’s 19th birthday at the private members club Groucho.

On Valentine’s Day, Y/n shared a picture of Richmond Park on Instagram with her thousands of followers, with the caption ‘LOVE’.

Princess Y/n became a Oxford University graduated with a dual degree in Business and English Literature. And it was reported that the singer attended the private party throw by her older brothers in Highgrove, the Prince of Wales private residence in Gloucestershire. A guest was quoted ‘from the moment he arrived Y/n glowed, she introduced him to everyone at the party as her ‘special friend’ which is the royal family code for ‘boyfriend|girlfriend’, they gravitated around each other, nailed at a few karaoke duets, but I don’t believe it’s that serious’.

Days later, on June 1st , Y/n reportedly attended Harry’s mom’s wedding.

By July they’re in the first of many ‘off-time’ in their relationship. Harry’s busy touring with his boyband, and Y/n’s juggling her professional career and royal duty.

2014

The couple was pictured with friends on the 24th of January in Verbier—only a few weeks after it was reported that Styles were dating Kendall Jenner—.

Though paparazzi weren’t able to capture the couple in any major PDA—apart from a few hugs on the slopes—. Y/n’s cousin, Princess Eugenie, and her boyfriend, Jack Brooksbank, were among the group, as well as the princess older brother, ~another~ Harry, with his then girlfriend, Cressida Bonas.

The Daily Mail reported that according to one source, “Y/n and Harry are pretty serious about each other, she knows his entire family and is close to his mother and sister, Harry already met both her brothers and cousins Eugenie and Beatrice”.

Y/n was spotted at the One Direction concert in Amsterdam, the particular date coincided with the state visit of the princess to the country.

The same month Y/n visited Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Belgium and Luxembourg, rubbing shoulders with the other Royal Families of Europe—their are kinda of all related we’re sure… in some way— ‘Doing a Social: Royal Edition’ .

Due to Harry band commitments and touring, the couple didn’t see each other until October, when Y/n visited Styles in Los Angeles, the mood between the couple seemed to cool off after pictures surfaced of Harry out in a pumpkin patch with Erin Foster.

The couple was pictured—in two separated occasions— in heated arguments around LA ~in public~ and we can only guess why…

When asked about his ‘royal romance’ by interviewers Styles standard answer was ‘We are just really good friends’ but that cheeky grin in his face didn’t fool anyone.

Later in November Styles is pictured by paparazzi going out with Victoria Secret’s model Nadine Leopold in LA, while Y/n is tagged on a Instagram post attending a friend’s wedding in San Francisco… on the same night, and is safe to say that they aren’t ‘on’.

2015

Early January, Y/n is living to the fullest, enjoying single life around the globe with her inner circle of friends~and her ex, no, not Harry, Hugh!~.

She started in the Mediterranean and went on to …Verbier.

On February 01, Styles 21st birthday, Y/n went to her instagram to share a heartfelt message… about Maritime Life and the Health of the Ocean, illustrating her love for the sea and all it’s creatures with personal photos ~or thirsty trap~.

Which Harry liked, as fans noted.

And all this just a day after the princess being seen attending Styles birthday bash in LA.

A source told The Sun: “The moment she arrived, red lipstick, high heels and a little black dress, all eyes were on her, including his, poor Nadine, his rumored girlfriend, was completely forgotten on the side, Harry was all over Y/n”

“There’s nobody else he’d rather be on his birthday.”

That was the last time we saw Harry alongside Nadine: ‘they claimed schedule conflicts, due to tour, but Harry made it work once before, dating and touring, the truth, pure and simple is: Harry saw Y/n, and he saw what was missing in his life. He’s blowing up her message box with texts, but she’s keeping her foot on the breaks, Harry’s in the doghouse for now”.

Around the same time Y/n was spotted out and about in London, partying around with her inner set—which includes her ex, and a few rumored flings—, dressing what we’re calling ‘the revenge wardrobe’.

‘It’s a punishment, she’s showing him what he’s going o lose if he can’t keep his wandering hands to himself’, the source claimed.

They are off again by the end of the year, not long after Y/n was spotted attending One Direction’s last concert before hiatus

2016

Harry, his family and the Azzof’s were spending the first days of the year in St’Barts, and Kendall Jenner was there. Khloe Kardashian declared that Jenner and Styles were hanging out and quote: ‘Do I think they’re dating? Yes.’

Rumors about Jenner and Styles are put to rest later that month, when Y/n was spotted celebrating Styles’s 22nd birthday earlier in London. The ‘on-again’ couple traveled together to Los Angeles—With sources claiming the couple is serious and happier than ever—.

March was definitely a month for rumors surrounding this couple.

There was the rumor that Harry had been casted in the new Christopher Nolan blockbuster —which turnout to be true—, that he was writing a new album. British tabloids started to run a story that either they are secretly engaged or almost there.

Rumors that they’re buying a house together. All this fueled by the fact that Harry and Y/n are no longer hiding their relationship or shying away from PDA.

May came with ~ goodbye long hair~.

The Palace announced on the 20th that Princess Y/n would undergo a FOUR month long tour in the name of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II. Y/n was to represent her grandmother in engagements around Australia, New Zealand, Fiji and Jamaica from 4th June to 14th October.

After months apart, the couple were spotted at Heathrow in a ‘warm embrace’ and the singer turned actor welcomed his lady with flowers, ‘it was definitely two lovers reunited after a very long time, it was like watching one of those post-war reunion: They are very much in love, they spent far two much time apart, and they don’t car for who is witnessing.

Later that year it was announced by the Palace that Y/n would be moving to New York for professional reasons, but would continue her work in the name of Queen Elizabeth II.

2017

Y/n and Harry are spotted around New York, Los Angeles and London on the early months of the year, after vacationing together in Jamaica in the end of 2016.

It was one his ‘secret gig at The Troubadour that the twenty-three years old singer, alluded to his relationship with Y/n for the first time since they have first being linked back in 2012. Before performing the soft ballad ‘Sweet Creature’ the singer addressed the crowd ‘I would like to dedicate next song to the girl that has been my muse since before she can even imagine’, Y/n, according to fans who attended the show, was in front of the stage singing along with her ~should we call him her boyfriend?~.

He is her boyfriend! Styles avoided answering questions about their rumored on and off relationship, but didn’t shy away from calling Y/n ‘his girlfriend’.

During his July movie premiere, Prince Harry and Princess Y/n were the VIP guest in the event, bringing with them three Dunkirk Veterans. Prince Harry greeted Tom Hardy and Harry Styles with the familiarity of someone greeting a old acquaintance. According to The Sun when it was his time to be greeted by the princess the singer bowed his head after the couple shared a smile and reportedly cheekily said ‘you look very beautiful today, ma’am’.

This couple reportedly took another step in their relationship when Styles was introduced to the Prince of Wales in August.

During tour, the rockstar’s fans seemed to have started a new game: Spot Y/n.

2018

During Harry’s tour break the couple once again was spotted out and about around London and Los Angeles.

We know Y/n and Harry spend Valentine’s Day together thanks to the Daily Mail publishing photos of them in the Caribbean.

In March Y/n was spotted around LA with A-listers Dakota Johnson and Kate Hudson, and rumor has it that the royal and her rockstar boyfriend bought a property in town.

In May Harry attends Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s wedding in Windsor. The couple didn’t arrive together, as Y/n, in a break of tradition, was one of her brother’s ‘best men’.

The children of the late Princess Diana cut quite the image while walking to the Chapel in military uniform. Princess Y/n has been appointed a Regimental Colonel by the Queen in 2017, and our girl slayed in that uniform.

That same month, GQ Australia drops an interview with Harry where he’s asked about Y/n and dodges the question with “I don’t think there’s anything I want to share about that. But thank you for providing the space.” Lol, but fair.

On the 29th it was announced that Princess Y/n had resigned from her finance job, but before engagement rumors between Y/n and Harry started to fly around, Buckingham Palace stated that the princess would be embarking in a four months long Royal Tour visiting Australia, Fiji, Tonga and New Zealand, with official visits to Japan and China.

Media outlets were quick to point out that the couple would be separated till October, with rumors of a possible break due to ‘conflict of schedules’

In October Harry and Y/n attend a event together ~a royal wedding at that~ and they looked super coupled up. Styles reportedly was introduced to the Queen and Prince Philip, as well as other members of he royal family.

November 14, 2018

But nothing in the world prepared us for the announcement released by Clarence Palace on the 14th: ‘The Prince of Waled is delighted to announce the engagement of Princess Y/n to Mr. Harry Styles. The wedding will take place in the Spring or Summer of 2019, in London. Further details about the wedding day will be announced in due course. Her Royal Highness and Mr. Styles became engaged on February during a private holiday in St.Lucia. Following the marriage, the couple will continue to live in their private residence in London.’ Her Majesty is said to ‘be absolutely delighted for the couple’, a the time of the engagement announcement, Princess Y/n was seventh in line of succession after the birth of Prince Louis a few months earlier, and no longer required the Queen’s formal consent to the marriage.

According to reports a formal engagement dinner party was held in Highgrove days before the formal announcement so the couple would be able to share their happy news with their nearest and dearest, ‘they didn’t want for those really close to them to find out through the media’.

November 15, 2018

Following the announcement, the couple gave an exclusive interview to Emma Barnett from BBC, Y/n revealed that the surprise proposal happened on Valentine’s Day, in St.Lucia, ‘It happened after dinner, there was a orchestra in a smaller boat besides ours playing ‘Young and Beautiful’ which I love, when I urn back o him, he’s smiling, he tells me about his feelings, and to this point I wasn’t sure of what was happening, then the exact moment the orchestra is playing ‘Can’Help Falling in Love’ he got down to one knee and asked me to be his wife’ the couple shared a sweet look, and then Barnett asked how she responded: ‘Yes, please’.

When asked if he’d seek permission before proposing, Harry said: ‘I asked her for her hand, but after we announced to her family I privately asked the Prince of Wales for his blessing, as I know they’re very close, and it was important for her.’

This might have been the most shared Royal Announcement on social media and by the end of the day #harryandy/n were trending on Twitter.

Harry shared the news on his Instagram, posting three exclusive pictures to celebrate the occasion, one from the beginning of their relationship~with a tooth rotting sweet~, a peak of the gorges engagement ring he gifted his~fiancé~, and the third one: the precise moment Y/n said ‘Yes, please’.

Rumor has it that the long wait for the formal announcement was due to the Royal Family disapproval, but Y/n stood her ground and won them over:’He comes from a working class background, he’s a rockstar, has all those tattoos, dated a fleet of lingerie models, and dress quirky, while Y/n is the royal family ‘golden child’, she attended Oxford, balanced a professional career and royal duty, she’s a bit of a ‘rebel’ in some standards and she’s their most popular member, some years ranking even above the Queen,’ one royal correspondent said, ‘every time they need good press, they send her, she has that bit of ‘Diana-factor’, now she wants to marry his guy, who is a huge star on his own, and it is most likely that she will be withdrawing from royal duty to be by her husband’s side, as Mr. Styles is mostly based in Los Angeles.’

A source told the Daily Mail, ‘They used the same strategy in 1947, when the then young Princess Elizabeth wanted to marry the dashing Prince Philip of Greece and Denmark, they sent her on a long royal tour, keeping them apart, and hoping that the distance will make her reconsider, it didn’t work then and it didn’t work now, (…)another factor here is that Princess Y/n is a very smart young woman, if she had announced her engagement earlier this year, at the time that she was proposed, she would have needed royal consent, so she waited the birth of her third nephew by William and Kate, which pushed to seventh in line, and she’s no longer required to ask for formal consent per Succession to the Crown Act 2013”.

December, 2018

The couple was invited to the Queen’s traditional Christmas luncheon at Buckingham Palace on the 10th.

On the 19th, the official engagement photographs were taken at the couple’s private residence in Hampstead, and were issued by the Palace on 19th, alongside the information that the wedding would be happening on 26 April 2019 in St.Paul Cathedral, the statement also clarified that the wedding would be privately paid by the couple, the Prince of Wales and the Queen.

About the couples choice a insider said, ‘they visited a couple of royal venues, but there was no doubt that it would be St.Pauls, it’s Y/n’s dream venue, she has put a claim in the Cathedral a long time ago, going as far a forbid her brothers to marry there’.

In a break with tradition the couple choose to celebrate Christmas with Styles’s family in Holmes Chapel instead of Sandringham.

January 2, 2019

The couple traveled abroad to reportedly escape the media circus surrounding their wedding, with rumors of a royal rift between siblings.

A source said to The Sun: ‘There is some discontentment over the date of the nuptials coming from the Sussexes, the date is very close to Meghan’s due date, and not only she won’t be able to attend the ‘Wedding of the Century’, it also it takes the shine out of the birth of their first child’.

January 6, 2018

Princess Y/n, labeled ‘the Rebel Princess’ and ‘the rioting English rose’, was cover of the January issue of Vanity Fair. In the interview the Princess discusses her upcoming nuptials with rockstar Harry Styles, her late mother, her place in the monarchy, climate change, and her (un)ordinary life. She also reveled that her wedding dress is in works.

February 16, 2018

After celebrating the one year anniversary of their engagement on the 14th in the English countryside, the couple took their nearest and dearest friends for a combined ‘hen’ and ‘stag’ party.

A party of forty made their way to Byron Bay, Australia, a boutique hotel were closed for the occasion, James Corden, Jeff Azzof, Adele and Dakota Johnson acted as the hosts of the week long celebration with Johnson reportedly welcoming guests with a cheeky speech ‘If you need help to find your designated rooms, please go to Jeff, for our parting itinerary redirect to James or Adele, if you want to find the closest bar, I am your girl.’

‘The whole trip was pretty much organized by those four, who have been close to the couple for years, Blake Lively helped them, but was unable to attend, Y/n have been close for two years now, as Blake and Ryan are Harry’s New York neighbors.’ A source claim.

From Harry’s One Direction days, only Horan was in attendance.

March 5, 2018

To mark the wedding of HRH Princess Y/n of Wales to Mr.Harry Styles, the Royal Mint produced an official UK £5 coin, showing the couple in profile. In May, a set of commemorative postage stamps, featuring the couple's official engagement photographs, was issued by Royal Mail.

Princess Y/n accepted the position of UN Women Ambassador in a private ceremony.

Harry and Y/n also paid a private visit to the Great Ormond Street Hospital.

March 7, 2018

Y/n had her debut Vogue Paris cover, labeled ‘a Modern Princess’ , the royal talked about becoming a aunt for the fourth time ‘I’m so happy for Haz and Meg, I can’t wait to met my future new cuddle-buddy’; her choice of wedding date and venue:‘it’s a special date, my great-grandparents are married on the 26th of April, I was very close with my great-grandmother before her passing, I think she would have liked the sentiment behind, and the Cathedral is such a luminous place, and of course it’s where my parents got married, it’s a way to keep two very special ladies, that I loved very much, with me on that date’, about her wedding preparations: ‘I salute the brides that do it on their own, I have a wonderful wedding planner, Harry is being very present in the whole process, he can be worse than me sometimes, Anne, my soon-to-be mother in law is always with us’; and about being called a rebel: ‘Why a rebel? I am doing what many woman did and do, even in my family, it’s not really original, I’m not a trailblazer, Princess Margaret was the original rebel, auntie Anne too, I am just the 21st century version.’

April 21, 2019

It was reported that the couple attended a private luncheon to celebrate HM Queen Elizabeth II birthday.

Broadcast channels started o exhibit specials about the couple, including documentaries and two biopics: ‘A Modern Royal Romance’, and ‘How Harry met Y/n’. BBC reported that there already was people camping along the royal route.

April 25, 2019

The day before. The Cathedral is being prepared for the ceremony, the public and the press were able o get a glimpse of the floral arrangements already coming in and the stand in rehearsing the ceremony and testing the cameras for tomorrow morning.

The Duchess of Cornwall, the bride’s stepmother, hosted a Rehearsal Dinner & Welcome Party for around 150 guests at The Savoy Hotel. For the occasion the bride wore Valentino and the groom wore Gucci.

Camilla hosting the night raised some eyebrows from the public—specially among those that still blame her for Charles and Diana’s divorce— but according to one royal correspondent ‘Y/n is perhaps the child of Charles who is the closest to Camilla, she was six years old when Charles introduced the two of them, and she lived with her father full time while her brothers were in Eton so she was the one that had more contact with ‘Pa’s new girlfriend’ she was only thirteen when they married’.

April 26, 2019

Princess Y/n married her long time love on 26 April 2019 at St.Paul Cathedral. It was a star-studded affair, with guests including he likes of the Beckhams, Stevie Nicks, Elton John, Kate Moss, Ronnie Wood, and Paul McCartney. It’s estimated that the wedding itself costed around £32million. With the palace later confirming that the couple and the royal family had paid for he core aspects of the wedding, including church service, associated music, flowers, decorations and the two receptions that followed.

Y/n stunned the crowds in her silk and cotton organdy Vivianne Westwood gown, which featured a nine-foot-long train and cost an estimated £250,000, she was lent a sapphire tiara by her grandmother, and wore her late mother diamond wedding earrings and sapphire oval brooch. She also wore a 5 meters long silk veil, among the hand-embroidered flowers, were guitars and pieces from Harry’s songs and the constellation of their ~very~ compatible zodiac signs.

The bride made her entrance in her father’s arm to the sound of Elvis orchestra arrangement of ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’, one of the many break in tradition in he couple’s wedding.

The wedding reportedly attracted a estimated 1.2 million people on the streets and broke records of broadcast. The couple shared a kiss at a balcony appearance.

Elton John performed at the garden reception hosted by the Queen and Ed Sheeran performed ‘Perfect’ and ‘Hearts Don’t Break Around Here’, at the evening reception the couple once again took to the dance floor, this time at the sound of ‘One Woman Man’ by John Legend.

Princess Y/n, in a break of tradition, made a speech calling Harry ‘my Sun and my water, my stay and my strength, the absolute love of my life’, after Harry confessed that he wasn’t good at speeches but was a ‘okay singer’ the newly wedded husband sang a slow ‘jazz like’ cover of Jonas Brothers’ ‘Sucker’ for his bride.

Oh, did we forget to mention that HM made Y/n a Duchess? Our favorite princess new style is HRH Princess Y/n, Duchess of Albany, Mrs. Harry Styles ––AND SHE ACTUALLY PUT IT IN HER IG BIO—. Her title is suo jure, which means ‘in her own right’, so no, Harry isn’t a Duke.

The newly weds left for their honeymoon on the 27th, after a wedding breakfast for 150 guests at Buckingham Palace, Y/n wore a The Vampire’s Wife going-away outfit, they departed in Styles’s convertible vintage red Jaguar. The couple set for their six-week honeymoon on a private yacht.

May 6, 2019

The couple took a brief pause from their honeymoon to attend the Met Gala, where Styles was on of the co-chairs for the night. The couple wore Gucci, Harry looked dreamy in a black sheer shirt and his wife looked gorgeous in a diamond tiara and a Plymouth-pink feathered gown.

The couple exchanged a kiss on the ‘pink’ carpet to the delight of photographers and fans on site. Another Iconic moment of the night was Anna Wintour and Lady Gaga curtsying to Y/n.

Alessandro Michele described he young couple as ‘his muses’.

July 12, 2019

The world was shocked when Buckingham and Kensington Palaces released a joint statement in the name of the Queen and the Duchess of Albany announcing that Y/n has giving up her place in the line of succession in her name and that of her future offspring, but would keep her title, and would continue to privately serve the HM the Queen and carrying out charity engagements.

In her Instagram the Princess shared the pictures of herself and Harry, in the caption she asked for respect of heir privacy and said that she was: ‘following her heart, and taking the steps (she) thought are better for herself and the future family she hoped to build with Harry’.

The announcement come ahead of claims that ‘senior members of the palace staff’ had been critical of Harry’s Met Gala outfits and his ‘quirky and queer style’ and are trying to ‘re-brand’ him and ‘control’ what he could and couldn’t do in his professional career as ‘his image reflected on the family’.

Honestly, good for them.

September, 2019

Harry is the cover of The Face, and boy, he looks gorgeous, he talks about his new album, his relationship with LA and move back to London ‘I am not over LA (…) but the relationship changed’; his status as a sex symbol, and ~of course~ his wife of almost five month ‘I have never been happier, life looks beautiful’.

And no, there is still no plans for a baby Styles, ‘We’re young, there’s no rush, we just got married’.

For the first time in… forever, Y/n took to the Instagram to jus share with the world how proud she’s of her hubby.

Caption: I am just so proud of being able to call this beautiful, amazing human being my husband.

December, 2019

Fine Line is released. And everyone in the world is losing their minds.

AND, V.L Roche published another bestselling novel, that everyone is recommending, from The Michelle Obama to Reese Witherspoon. And it wouldn’t be relevant if it didn’t turn out that V.L Roche has been Y/n pseudonymous since 2010, in a interview this month the royal admitted that she was afraid os public opinion but Harry convinced her to come out withe the publishing of her TENTH novel. ‘Pictures of Us’ and ‘With the Band’ published in 2013 and 2015 respectively, had it’s adaptation rights bought by Netflix and Amazon in 2017.

It’s mind blowing that she was able to keep it private for so long, and…Was any of those amazing characters she wrote inspired by Harry? Her answer? ‘Perhaps’

April 3, 2020

We are shocked when almost a year after getting married, Harry and Y/n announce that they welcomed their first child. The couple are able to keep their entire pregnancy private, their families were informed and Buckingham Palace, Clarence House and Kensington Palace public stated their delight with the new family addition and look forward to meet them.

We are honestly shocked, I mean, they did a better job than Kylie Jenner in hiding their pregnancy.

We wish the new parents the best of luck and can’t wait for the next chapters of what is definitely a modern fairy tale.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles reader insert #harry styles reader #harry stylersxroyal!reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles

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