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Looking for a steady supply of romance short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

150+ Romance Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. From the thrill of a first date to a snapshot tour through an entire relationship, our collection of romantic short stories will give you everything your heart desires.

Romance Short Stories – Page 5 of 10

Sweet revenge

Submitted to Contest #313

Sweet revenge. They had had a blazing row. “I’m going away with my mates,” he stated. “I’m all packed and tomorrow at sunrise I’ll be gone. We go every year. I can’t let them down. Just because I’m getting married doesn’t mean I’m going to give up on life.” “Give up on life,” she spluttered. “It’s only six weeks before we promise to love, honour and cherish and that’s how you feel. Maybe we shouldn’t get married at all.” Marcus smiled his cheeky smile. “That’s why I need this now. We’ll have our whole lives.” Then those infuriating words. “...

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Curtains

Submitted to Contest #313

Miss matched curtains sway in the front window, the sweet smell of summer air breezing through the open door. An oddly charming but rather ugly rock keeps it from drifting shut. Yellow and white honeysuckle grow unruly on the trellis you insisted I put up. Inviting. That was the word you had used. This was important when making people feel comfortable. Early morning light filters in, soaking the space in a wash of gold tones. An image of you titling your face to the sky, absorbing the suns touch, dances behind my eyes. God, you were so good...

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Letters from Elmwood

Submitted to Contest #313

Chapter 1: Hidden Notes.POV: Elizabeth. Soft, warm wafts of smoke lightly hit my face. The crackle of glowing fire buzzed in my ears gently as I warmed my marshmallow to a golden crisp. I spread a layer of melted chocolate on my honey graham crackers and slid in the marshmallow. Before the chocolate could drip any more, I took a bite. Gosh, I love autumn. Falling leaves paired with perfect s’mores—I mean, what could possibly be better? After all, the stars are gently shining in the sky like beacons leading sailors back to shore. I could almo...

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Turmeric

Submitted to Contest #313

“Definitely the theater fight,” Louise said.“Absolutely,” Ian agreed, “That one’s a no doubter.”“What was up with you that night?”“I was hungry. That’s really just it. In a bad mood to begin with because it was a shitty day at work, and then I hadn’t eaten since lunch, and all of a sudden you were sweating me for being a little late, and I just lost it,” Ian explained, “I’m sorry.”“Why couldn’t you just say that” Louise said, “I thought you were really pissed at me for something and I didn’t have a clue what I’d done. And it was so humiliati...

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Memories

Submitted to Contest #313

Tasteless. Bitter. Thick. Dry. She licked her lips. Dry as the Saharan, she ran her tongue along the roof of her mouth. Morning light glistened off the water in the wash basin. Inviting. Refreshing. Calling to her. But she knew…she knew better. The wash basin hadn’t been full of warm water since that day. Closing her eyes, she took a breath. The day he left. Welcoming. As if calling her by name. Her eyes closed, the voice cracked, like trying to speak around broken glass.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Cass.” A brush al...

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Ghost

Submitted to Contest #313

It was supposed to be so simple, if an escape in the dead of night can be called simple. We knew there would be rumors and wild speculation – in fact, we counted upon it – but never in a thousand lifetimes could we have guessed that our story would become legend, and that the legend would be so far from the truth. The ship was said to be unlucky, everyone knew that. A change of name and a fresh coat of paint couldn't do away with whatever malevolent spirit seemed to haunt her. She had collided with and sunk another ship in London, she had ru...

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Mr. Fix

Submitted to Contest #313

**Tw: mentions of explicit pictures send to the wrong person by accident** Diego drained the last bit of his matcha latte, threw the plastic cup away and put a hand through his thick black curls in an attempt to hide the fact he'd been in lectures all day. Then he knocked on the office door of his Media ethics professor. Mr Fix opened the door. Diego couldn't help but notice he was wearing a light blue button up that perfectly matched his eyes. "Mr. Torrez, thank you for agreeing to meet me at such short notice", Mr Fix said sounding smug. D...

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Tiger Lady

Submitted to Contest #313

We’d only met the one time. After years of semi knowing each other in the way that the internet allows people to semi know each other. Like, you're not sure if you should call the people who live in the box or your phone your friend or not. Would they be there for you in real life? People who are only available with an emoji or a meme, who can silence you with a button or send you to voicemail. Who leave you on “seen.” We met the one time, at a coffee shop, and we were polite and Ms. Manners would have nodded from her perch above and said, "...

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kisses are kisses and coffee is coffee

Submitted to Contest #313

The kiss was like rose petals dappled with dew. Except it wasn’t. Because kisses aren’t like that. Kisses are like nothing you can describe with flowers. His kiss was dark-roasted coffee on a cold morning, a sensation that drives the bad dreams away and sets you up for a new day. Except kisses are kisses and coffee is coffee. His kiss was warm laundry fresh out of the dryer. The fleeting scent of a candle right when you blow it out. Sparklers on the Fourth of July. Frost on the windowsill. And all of that is wrong. Poets want the kiss to be ...

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Delaneigh Hylander and the Petersen Twin Brother (Only Question: Which One???)

Submitted to Contest #313

An excerpt from current WIP novel, "Confessions of a Church Girl" The Petersens and our family were the only ones who stayed behind after all our guests had left, including Gemma. I didn’t want to go back home because Gemma and I would pick up on a conversation about Jason and how my interaction with Hans Petersen was just an “easy distraction” to get over the break-up. The last thing I really wanted to do was have a discussion about Jason, or Gemma’s opinion on how any guy at all—especially Hans—could possibly be an “easy distraction” when ...

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My Heart Will Survive

Submitted to Contest #313

Are You there, God? It’s me, Rhia, and I’m in a bind. I thought if I talked it through with You I might gain some clarity, even though in my experience I haven’t had much success hearing Your voice. Also, since You are omnipresent, You’ll know all this, already. I just need to get it said for my own peace. I’ve been married to George for more than forty years. It hasn’t been a happily ever after experience, but it has been comfortable. Love, to me, is a choice. Sometimes I have a feeling of love for George, a warm fuzzy I call it, which is ...

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He Looked into Her Eyes

Submitted to Contest #313

This story contains risqué and sexually suggestive language. Allyson and Madison walked across the small but incredibly beautiful upstate New York college campus. It was springtime and the scent of lilacs filled the air. Maddie turned to her identical twin sister, Ally, and commented, “You know, it’s a good thing that guys I go out with don’t wear cologne that smells like lilacs.” I wouldn’t be able to keep my pants on.” “Yeah, yeah, I know,” said Ally, “and you really like the blue ones because they match your eyes. You’re so romanti...

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Vile Bones

Submitted to Contest #313

I flex my hand, testing out the newly unstitched finger. The Marrow-Weaver had sewn along the seams of my inner pinky to leave minimal traces of the incision, even once it scars. I don’t know whose bone I’d been switched with, but that’s rather the point - if I knew, naturally their secret would not be Kept very well at all. It couldn’t have been a very large secret for a bone so small - a simple pinky promise if you will. But it had to have some degree of importance in order to be Kept in a Crypt such as me. The Marrow-Weaver leaves my cel...

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Old lovers café

Submitted to Contest #313

Years. It’s been years since then. Yet, every now and then, I still catch the scent — cinnamon, old books, freshly brewed coffee with a hint of amber, and it’s like time folds in on itself. One breath, and I’m back in that café, light spilling in across the scratched-up table, your hand brushing mine over a the rim of a chipped porcelain cup. I don’t remember the conversation — just the feeling— of almost saying something, of almost reaching for something we both knew wouldn’t last. Funny how scents hold more truth than memory ever could. I ...

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See you next Wednesday?

Submitted to Contest #313

The scent was overpowering. A pungent odor, sweet with the aroma of burnt toast and a hint of rotten eggs that was making her nearly nauseous. It was a particular smell that at first felt disgusting, but after smelling it more, it started feeling nice, a comforting odor: the smell of home, the smell of Edinburgh. Elspeth was in a rush; her small heels were clicking sharply with every step. She was questioning her choice to walk to the artist's home instead of catching a carriage. Her petticoat was getting all muddy, and her waistcoat was to...

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RBE | RBE Romance | 2024-03

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