Welcome to Choices Holidays Valentine's Day prompts! This event will run from February 1st through February 15th, 2026.
This is open to all choices fandoms. It’s open to fan artists as well as fanfic writers.
Below are fourteen prompts meant to inspire some stories and/or artwork, mood boards, etc. Use these less as word-for-word prompts and more as a general theme (of course, you are welcome to use them word-for-word if you like). Let your imaginations run wild!
You may submit your work at any time during the event. Submissions will be reblogged as they come in. A complete master list will be posted after the end of the event.
All creative endeavors are welcomed: Fics, art, edits, mood boards, whatever you’re inspired to create!
The Rules:
Use one of the prompts, however loosely (Any Valentines Day themed creation is welcome really, just use the general "Valentine's Day" prompt).
Tell us in the header what fandom your characters are from.
Tag @choicesholidays <- This part is very important! It ensures that your story gets seen, reblogged, and added to the master list at the end of the event.
Use the hashtags #choicesholidays and #valentinesday2026
Post/submit by the deadline.
Deadline is February 15th, 2026 11:59 p.m. CST
Be sure you tag @choicesholidays #choicesholidays, and #valentinesday2026 for reblogging and inclusion on the master list at the end of the event.
Please feel free to reach out to this blog or @angelasscribbles with any questions, concerns, or suggestions.
Prompts are under the cut.
The Secret Note: MC receives an anonymous Valentine's card
The Magical Candy: Write a story about a box of chocolates that causes people to tell the truth.
New Traditions
Love at first sight
First love
First kiss
Let’s get married!
This is wrong/we shouldn’t be doing this…. (write a forbidden love story)
Worst/Best Valentine’s Day ever
Bittersweet Goodbye/Lost Love
Reconnection/Reunited
It’s always been you
Best Friends: use this as a friends to lovers story OR write about single characters handing out on V-day. Platonic or ACE love.
Toxic Love: Because why not?
Additionally, feel free to use prompts from previous years.
2024:
First date
First kiss
But I can’t dance…..
I know my brother/sister is your ex, but if you’ll just listen….
Last kiss
This isn’t remotely romantic, but I still wouldn’t want to be anywhere else
I don’t want to ruin our friendship but I can’t keep my feelings a secret a moment longer
Be my fake date for a wedding?
I’ve been expressly forbidden from seeing you. However…..
You’re the most toxic person I’ve ever met and honestly I can’t get enough.
Good girl/Bad boy or Good boy/bad girl
Would you shut up for a minute? I’ve never proposed to anyone before!
Okay, we stole all the valentine’s cards….now what?
Be my valentine/I love you
2023:
This isn't what I imagined a relationship would be like. It's so much more.
You broke through every wall I had. How can I resist you now?
Fandom: Open Heart (probably somewhere in Book 3)
Pairing: Tobias/MC (Julia Zhang)
Word Count: 1515
Summary: Julia needs a date for a wedding, on Valentine's Day no less. Tobias is happy to help.
For @choicesholidays' Valentine's event. I can never resist a fake dating prompt.
Read on AO3
After work drinks weren’t an uncommon occurrence, especially after a hard shift, and it wasn’t uncommon to see Julia and her friends occupy the table in the corner either, laughing and chatting loudly.
Today though, Julia had been frowning at her phone, and then excused herself, and Tobias was concerned.
None of her friends seemed to have noticed that she wasn’t back yet, but Tobias couldn’t help but think about her, his eyes drawn to her whenever they were in the same room. She was brilliant and smart and funny and beautiful and a thousand other things that made it impossible to look away. He had long accepted his infatuation, even if he knew it was unlikely that anything would ever come off it. They weren’t hostile anymore, but he wouldn’t call them friends either.
Still, he reasoned, as a colleague, it would be fine to go ask if she was okay, although it was just as likely she would tell him to piss off than what was going on.
So he went outside where he found her sitting on one of the pub’s benches, staring at the sky, a frown still on her face.
Tobias sat down next to her, close but not so close that they would be touching.
“Are you okay?”
Julia didn’t say anything for a moment, and Tobias almost got ready to leave her alone, but then she sighed.
“An… acquaintances is getting married. On Valentine’s Day. And I’m invited.”
She sounded annoyed and a little disgusted, and Tobias frowned.
Sure, it was a little short notice, and maybe, if someone asked him, a bit tacky to get married on Valentine’s Day, but he didn’t see why it would warrant such a reaction.
“Okay?”, he prompted, and Julia sighed again.
“I know her from school, and she doesn’t actually like me. Which is mutual”, she added, as if that hadn’t been clear. “She’s always trying to show me up, and I just know she only invited me to show how oh-so-romantic her life is or some other nonsense.”
“That does sound stupid”, Tobias agreed, and Julia snorted, which he counted as a win. If nothing else, at least he had cheered her up a little.
“Don’t go then”, he proposed, and Julia rolled her eyes.
“Wish that I could. But she’ll see that as an admission that her life is better or something.”
“That’s even more stupid”, Tobias couldn’t help but say. “You’re amazing, and someone isn’t ‘better’ because they’re getting married on Valentine’s Day.” He put as much disdain into his voice as he could, which was a lot, and Julia smiled.
“Thanks. I know. I still have to go though. But I can’t go alone.”
“Ah.” Of course that crazy person Tobias didn’t even know seemed like she would see that as a weakness too, or something equally stupid. “Take someone then?”
“Where am I gonna find a date for Valentine’s Day this quickly?”
Tobias was sure that there were lots of people who wanted to date her, but he wasn’t going to say that.
“I’ll go with you.”
“What?” Julia turned to him, clearly surprised, and Tobias shrugged, trying to look casual and not like his heart was beating out of his chest.
“I have nothing better to do, and I’ll get free food. And I admit, I’m interested in seeing what kind of person this acquaintance of yours is.”
“Hmm.” Julia grinned, her eyes gleaming. “So does that mean you want to date me, Dr. Carrick?”
Tobias grinned back, leaning in a little, delighted when Julia didn’t pull back. Of course dating her was exactly what he wanted, but he still made it sound like as much as a joke as he could when he replied “You wish, Dr. Zhang.”
And despite knowing that she didn’t mean it, her answering cheeky “Maybe” and the accompanying wink made his heart skip a beat.
Valentine’s Day came quickly, and Tobias went to pick Julia up. He was wearing his best suit, having taken extra effort to look good. Even if it was just a fake date, he wanted to look good for her.
When Julia opened the door, the view took his breath away. She was wearing a dark blue strapless gown that accentuated her figure just right, her long dark hair was swept over one bare shoulder, and her wine-red lipstick drew attention to her full lips.
Tobias swallowed drily. “Wow.” He had to clear his throat to get more words out. “You look amazing.”
Julia blushed a little. “Thank you.”
Then she grinned, looking him up and down. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
Tobias laughed. “An almost compliment from you? I’ll take it.”
The wedding was as extravagant as he had expected, and the reception was held in a big ballroom, with tables to both sides and a huge dancefloor in the middle.
They were seated with no one Julia knew, which according to her was a jab from the bride, but she actually didn’t mind, saying that she didn’t like any of the other people from her school who had been invited anyway, and Tobias didn’t care either way.
The food had been good, and now he was content to people watch and listen to Julia’s stories about them.
His arm was draped casually over the back of her chair and she was leaning into him, and Tobias was enjoying this more than he probably should.
Julia was just pointing out a particularly bad dancer, when the bride appeared in front of them. Tobias had been wondering if that would happen or if she would just ignore them, and apparently now was the time.
“Julia”, she greeted, not even looking at Tobias, and Julia forced a smile.
“Astrid. Congratulations.”
Astrid smiled sweetly. “Thank you! Isn’t everything sooo romantic?” She sighed dreamily, and Tobias had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“Not that you would know about romance”, she added then, sounding condescending. “It’s always just work with you, isn’t it?”
“Well, not only is she brilliant at her job”, Tobias cut in before Julia could say anything, irritated that this stupid woman would treat her like that. “She also has a very satisfying romantic life.”
He said it with just the right amount of innuendo to leave no doubt what he was talking about, leaning forward a little, moving his hand from the back of the chair to Julia’s shoulder, his thumb brushing her collarbone and feeling her shudder at that.
She smiled brightly, turning to him. “Exactly. I’ve certainly never had any complaints.”
The way she was looking at him, her eyes dark and her lips slightly parted, almost made Tobias forget that this was all just an act.
He only just stopped himself from leaning in and kissing her, instead brushing a kiss over her cheek, risky enough, but not as bad as a real kiss.
Then he turned back to Astrid, a fake smile on his lips. “Anything else we can help you with?”
“Tch. Forget it.” She turned around, stomping back over to her husband, looking like a petulant child, and Tobias couldn’t help but laugh.
Julia laughed with him. “Thanks! That was great.”
“Anytime.” And he meant that. If he could make Julia happy, anything was worth it.
“Do you want to dance?”, she asked then, and he agreed.
It was a slow song, appropriate for a wedding, and he pulled her close, his hands on her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head against his chest, and he let his head rest on hers, trying not to dwell on the fact that she fit perfectly in his arms. But there on the dancefloor, swaying to the music, he let himself forget for just one moment that this was just pretend and just enjoyed holding her. Reality would be bad enough tomorrow, he reasoned, so he could indulge just this once.
Later, when Julia had deemed it appropriate to leave without making Astrid think they were going too early or slighting her or whatever stupid thing she would come up with, they were back at Julia’s door.
She smiled up at him. “This was surprisingly fun.”
“The food was good. The company was okay, I guess.” Tobias shrugged, fighting a grin, and Julia rolled her eyes.
“Sure. But seriously, thank you.”
“Anytime”, he couldn’t help but reply.
“Yeah?” Julia stepped a little closer. “So you’re saying you’d date me anytime?”
Maybe he shouldn’t do this, maybe it would ruin their work relationship and make things awkward, but with the way she was looking at him, curious and hopeful, he couldn’t help but be honest. “Yes.”
“Oh.” She blinked, then the most brilliant smile broke out on her face. “In that case…” She came even closer, placing her hands on his hips and pulling herself up on her tiptoes. “Can I get a goodnight kiss?”
Smiling back, he leaned down and cupped her cheeks.
“Always”, he murmured against her lips, before finally kissing her like he had been dreaming of for so long.
Book: Open Heart, Book 2 (post-attack)
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)
Rating: General
Category: Fluff, Christmas
Word count: 1K
Summary: Ethan eavesdrops on a conversation between Sawyer and her best friend.
A/N: This fic was inspired by this Instagram reel and a little “Caption This” fun with a friend. It was meant to be an angsty fic, but then I listened to Sweet December by Brett Eldridge and Kelly Clarkson and changed directions. Merry Christmas!🎄
Events/Prompts: Participating in Winter Holidays 2024 hosted by @choicesholidays | Cuddling by the fireplace
With plans to spend their day off together, Ethan insisted that Sawyer come to his after her late-night shift at the hospital. The apartment was dark except for the glow of his bedside lamps, drawing attention away from the living room and the surprise he had set up for his girl.
The tactic worked. An exhausted Sawyer entered the quiet apartment well after midnight and headed straight for the bedroom like a moth to the flame. After a quick kiss and a much-needed shower, she draped herself over Ethan’s body like a blanket and passed out within minutes.
It was mid-morning when Sawyer padded into the kitchen, still a little groggy, with her phone pressed to her ear. Finding no evidence of Ethan's morning coffee, she assumed he was still at the gym, which was his usual weekend routine.
“That sounds like so much fun. I’ve always wanted to visit New York during Christmas time…” Sawyer told the person on the other end of the line. “Maybe next year.”
When she put the phone on speaker so she could start the coffee, her best friend’s voice filled the room.
“What about you? Are you going home to Arizona for Christmas?” Christian asked.
“No. I love my family and know they are concerned, but they have been so overbearing that I’ve started dodging their calls,” she confessed.
“Oof.”
“I know,” Sawyer grimaced guiltily, “and I know they mean well, but I just need time to process things on my own. I can’t take any more time off, anyway. I just got back to work and need to catch up on my clinic hours. Besides, I’m looking forward to experiencing a Christmas like in the movies. You know, someplace cold enough that it snows, and you can cozy up by the fire and drink hot chocolate."
“Will you spend Christmas with Ethan, then?”
From the living room, Ethan watched as Sawyer shrugged her shoulders. He’d been listening to their conversation while he lounged in front of the fireplace, waiting for her to turn around and notice him.
"I don't want to assume, but I hope so," Sawyer answered softly, then sighed deeply. "God, Christian, I know it sounds so corny, but when I start feeling all upside down, he turns me right around."
"Awww..."
Ethan continued to watch and listen as she tinkered with the coffee machine.
"We’re both working on Christmas, but a wintery night cuddling by the fire like we had at Dagger Mountain would be amazing. As for anything else, I think Ethan’s more the ‘spirit of Christmas’ type than the ‘holiday spirit’ type. Last year, when I came over to help with Naveen's case, I brought him one of those potted tabletop trees from the hospital gift shop because he didn't have a tree or a wreath or anything. It made me sad for him."
Ethan raised his brows in surprise, then looked to the corner of the room where, the night before, he set a five-foot balsam fir into a tree stand. Boxes of ornaments and garland that the doorman helped carry into the apartment sat on the floor nearby.
Christian chuckled. “You sound like Cindy Lou Who talking about the Grinch. Girl, he's been a bachelor for a long time. Guys don't care about that shit. Sam wouldn't bother either if it weren't for the boys."
"Yeah, I guess you’re right."
A loud pop from the living room made Sawyer jump. She quickly spun around to find Ethan reclined in front of the fireplace. Christian’s voice faded into the background as Sawyer's senses awakened with the warmth of the roaring fire. The smell of fresh pine needles. The twinkling of white lights in the corner. The soft crooning of Bing Crosby’s “Silver Bells.” The taste of creamy chocolate and peppermint from the cup that Ethan walked over and offered her.
“Sawyer? Hellooo… did I lose you?”
Reaching for her phone, she apologized to her friend. “Sorry about that, um, Ethan just surprised me… Can I call you back later?”
“Of course! I should go anyway. I think Sam and the boys are ready to leave for the ice rink.”
“Have fun and send me pics. Love you.”
“Love you, too, babe.”
Sawyer ended the call and set her phone aside. “Hi,” she greeted, standing on her tiptoes.
“Morning,” Ethan answered, bending down to meet her halfway for a tender kiss.
Gesturing to the living room, “What’s all this?”
“Since you're not going home for Christmas, I thought we could celebrate together. Here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really,” he confirmed with a peck to her lips.
“I’d love that...” she blushed with embarrassment, “as you probably heard.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked at the glowing tree. “You bought a real tree?”
“Given your family’s Christmas tree business, I knew anything else would be considered sacrilege.”
She smiled up at him. “You remembered that?”
“When it comes to you, I remember everything.”
Pressing herself tighter against him, Sawyer rested her cheek on his chest. “It’s so cozy in here. And look! It’s snowing outside.” Sawyer moved to sit on the sofa, tugging the sleeve of Ethan’s robe to get him to follow. “Come cuddle with me.”
Ethan sat, draping an arm over her shoulder, tucking her into his side. But just as they got comfortable, Ethan moved to stand up.
“Where are you going?”
“I forgot,” he started, “I bought one of those big fluffy blankets you said I needed for cuddling on the couch. It’s in the hall closet.”
Sawyer smiled so big. “You are so sweet sometimes.”
“Sweet?! Uh-oh, my reputation for being a Grinch is in jeopardy.”
Reminded again that he heard every word of her conversation, she scowled at him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to eavesdrop? You could have cleared your throat or something.”
Ethan winked, letting her know there was nothing to worry about. “Let me grab the blanket.”
“No,” she demanded, catching his hand before he walked away. Lying back, she pulled him down and on top of her. “A blanket’s good, but you’re even better.”
Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction
"I was planning to ... but couldn’t find the right moment. That night, you were asking me to marry you and ... and then ... then that was the farthest thing from my mind.” She said bluntly, watching his reaction carefully.
Her statement is calm, reasonable and meant as an explanation, not an apology, but Liam stared at her for a moment, remembering the conversation.
Remembering the pure joy on her face ... in their special spot by the river; remembering how elated she had looked while her words saying "yes" rang through his heart.
He hung his head and let his hands rub along her arms and finally joined around her shoulders to pull her in.
"I should have taken you to Italy with me," he whispered.
Warnings for this chapter: Lemons, or should I say almost lemons? Lemon adjacent?
Word Count: 3,269
A/N: This is a prequel one-shot. Occurs before the events in the main series.
Submission for the @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompts.
My other stuff: Master List.
Riley walked into the informal dining room of Balymore, her estate in Valtoria, to find the table draped with a red silk cloth, flames flickering from wrought iron candelabras, and gleaming silver cloches gracing the tabletop.
Her mouth fell open and she turned to her husband in name only in astonishment. “What is all this?”
“Oh…ah…” Drake stuttered over his words as his brain spun frantically trying to find the right thing to say that would make his romantic gesture less romantic and not awkward. “I…um…I know you were disappointed that Liam had to cancel your plans for today, so I just wanted to do something to cheer you up.”
Disappointed was an understatement. It was Valentine’s Day and Liam had cancelled their plans. She shouldn’t be surprised. She should be used to it. But it hurt. A good cry and a hot bath had helped, but after a long nap, she’d found herself ravenous. Her quest for food had led her downstairs where she’d followed her nose to find the source of the delicious aroma wafting up to her.
Confusion pinged through her as she took in his demeanor. “What about your plans? Didn’t you have a date?”
“Yeah, well, that fell through.”
“Oh, Drake, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was full of so much sympathy that he felt like an ass for lying.
“It wasn’t anything serious anyway.” The truth was, he had canceled the date when he’d realized Riley would be left home alone. He had only asked the girl out so that he wouldn’t be home when Liam arrived. Not out of jealousy, but fear of discovery. He was sure his best friend could read his love for his supposedly in-name-only wife all over his face.
It was getting harder to fight his feelings for her. The more Liam fucked up and neglected her, the harder it became.
He wasn’t jealous of Liam per se. He loved the guy, and he was fully aware of the myriad web of circumstances that had led to him having to marry for political alliances and not love.
Still.
The effect it had on Riley was the same and it hurt him to watch her suffer. He had agreed to marry her to keep her at court and near Liam. A marriage of convenience. A favor for his friends. An act of service for the two people he loved most in the world.
The problem was that the longer they lived together, the closer they became and the harder he fell. He had tried to fix it, put distance between them, but his stupid, traitorous heart wouldn’t let him move on. And he had tried.
The first year they were together had been so full of turmoil that he had just focused on getting her through it. Once they had moved to Valtoria and she had settled into her new position as Duchess, she had encouraged him to find a relationship of his own.
“You shouldn’t have to suffer just because I am.”
The full truth of the situation was that he had only half-heartedly dated so that she would stop worrying about him and his happiness. Because he would do anything for her. Even date other women. But his heart had never been in it.
Every relationship he had entered had ended before it really began. Two or three dates at most. Several of the women had dumped him citing with confusion that he seemed to actually love his wife.
Everyone on the planet could see that, apparently. Everyone but her.
Because she was too busy letting Liam break her heart over and over.
“Still. I’m sorry your date canceled. I know what that feels like.”
“I’m fine.” He brushed her concern off with a twinge of guilt but telling her that he had been the one to cancel would just open up questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Or more to the point, questions he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answers to.
He would confess his feelings right then and there if he thought she returned them. But she was in love with Liam. He knew that.
“Stop worrying about my love life and come eat before it gets cold.”
She inhaled deeply as she stepped toward the table, “It smells so good! What is it?”
“Deep fried chicken and cheese stuffed avocado.” He told her as he pulled her chair out for her.
Her face lit up as she sat. “Really?”
“Yes,” he affirmed as he took his own seat. “I know it’s your favorite.”
“But…how? I gave the kitchen staff the night off!” Neither of them had planned to be home.
“Oh, ah…” a flush spread across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I made it.”
She pulled the cloche off the plate then turned her head to him in bewilderment, “You made this?”
He scoffed while shaking his head. “Don’t act so surprised. I can cook. You know this.”
“I mean yes but this is next level!” The avocados were browned to perfection and served with a beautifully roasted Mediterranean vegetable medley, garlic mashed potatoes, and piping hot Ciabatta bread.
He tried to lighten the mood. “I’m offended that you’re this impressed, Riley. I have mad kitchen skills.”
“I know. I just can’t believe that you did all this for me.” A single tear slid down her cheek.
He leaned forward in concern, wiping the tear away. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s that about?”
“Nothing,” she smiled at him through the wetness pooling in her eyes. “These are happy tears. I didn’t think this day could be salvaged, but you somehow managed it.”
“Yeah, well, what are husbands for?” He gave her a disarming smile as he sat back in his chair and turned his attention to his plate.
She laughed at their shared joke. He always said that when he did something nice for her. It was funny because he wasn’t really her husband.
But he kind of was, wasn’t he?
She dropped her eyes to her plate to cover her sudden flush. He was always doing sweet things like this. He was always there when she needed someone to talk to. Though she would never tell Max or Hana, Drake had become her best friend.
He had left his job as a member of the King’s Guard to move to Valtoria with her. He had been there for her when her grandmother passed away. The last time Liam had stood her up, Drake was ready with her favorite pizza and a movie she’d been wanting to see.
What are husbands for?
It was beginning to feel less and less like a joke because it had become the truth.
How true?
She suspected Drake’s feelings for her. How could she not? She had pushed him to date others. It wasn’t fair to let him waste his life taking care of her when she was in love with another man.
Yet here he was, on Valentine’s Day, taking care of her once again.
She stole a surreptitious glance at him as they ate. Maybe he had deeper feelings for her than she initially suspected.
No, she was imagining things. He was just being a good friend. Because that is what he was. Her friend. And Liam’s.
Liam.
Guilt swirled through her at the thought of her supposed boyfriend. Annoyance followed the guilt. He had stood her up. Again. Why should she feel guilty for anything? He married another woman for the love of God.
Not because he wanted to.
The guilt was back at the reminder of the impossible situation Liam had been placed in, but it was mingled with hurt, embarrassment, and a fair amount of anger.
She knew everyone thought she was an idiot for waiting around on scraps of the king’s time and affection. For uprooting her entire life to chase after him to Cordonia in the first place, for staying even after his rejection, and for continuing to believe that she was a priority to him.
Everyone but Drake.
He never judged her.
She lifted her eyes to his face as he regaled her with tales of Max’s misadventures from when he had tagged along on Drake’s latest fishing trip with Bastien.
“… And then he tripped over the side of the boat and fell in the water!” Drake shook with laughter at the memory.
Riley forced an obligatory smile, but she had missed most of the story, her mind occupied with an entirely new idea.
Her eyes focused on his mouth hoping he didn’t notice the flush on her face as her mind refused to stray away from imagining what his lips would feel like on her neck, on her mouth…other places….
She forced her eyes down to her plate and focused on eating her dinner. The dinner that her husband in allegedly name only had taken the time to prepare with his own two hands.
When the meal was over, she tried to clear the table, but he wouldn’t let her. “No, no, I’ve got this! I’m just going to clear the table and rinse the plates real quick. Why don’t you go pick something to watch? Whatever you want.”
“You sure? You did all this work. The least I can do is let you pick the movie.”
“Nah.” He waved her offer away. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
A multitude of emotions swirled through her as she watched him walk out of the room with the dishes. If you’re happy, I’m happy. He meant that. He was always saying things like that. He was always going out of his way to do little things to make her happy.
She made her way to the media room and flipped absently through the streaming selections as a million images of Drake fell through her mind. Drake, making her laugh when she was sad. Drake, holding her when she cried. Drake, always keeping himself between her and the reporters. Drake, scrambling eggs in their kitchen at two a.m. because they’d stayed up late watching stand-up comedy specials again.
When had he become such a huge part of her life? Yes, she had married him, but that had been on paper only, so she could stay near Liam.
And yet it was Drake who had attended her grandmother’s funeral with her. It was Drake who had taken care of her when she had the flu last year. And it was always Drake who picked up the pieces after Liam shattered her heart time and time again.
Why was she keeping him at arm’s length?
He showed up in the media room with her favorite blanket, a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and a small box tucked under his arms.
She accepted the cup and the blanket while trying to peer at the box. “What’s that?”
“Oh, this?” He teased, holding it out toward her but up out of her reach.
Her eyes widened as she glimpsed the label. “Are those dark chocolate truffles?”
“Maybe…”
“Drake!” She laughed as she deposited her cup on the end table and made a grab for the promised treat.
He lifted them easily out of her reach with a teasing smile. “What? Did you want these?”
“You know I do!” She tried to pout but the smile tugging her lips upward made that difficult to maintain.
“I don’t know….” He pretended to think deeply about it. “Maybe I should keep these for myself.”
With a joyful laugh, she launched herself off the couch, her fingers touching, but not completely grasping the elusive chocolates. The impact of her body colliding into his, combined with his misstep as he tried to dodge her, sent him toppling backward onto the couch where he landed in a slightly reclined position. Her momentum carried her forward so that she landed on top of him, laying on his chest, looking up into his face.
They were both laughing as their gazes met. A sudden silence descended on them as they stared into each other’s eyes. The smiles faded as lips parted and breath caught.
She moved first, bringing her lips to his. Her kiss was tentative. His response was not.
His arms went around her, the box of truffles dropped and forgotten on the floor. He pulled her tight against him as his tongue deftly took control of her mouth. One hand tangled in her hair as the other slipped under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her back. A plaintive whimper escaped him as he pressed his rapidly growing hardness up into her.
Riley responded, melting into his embrace, no longer tentative. She pressed herself against him as their kisses became more passionate, almost frantic.
She broke the kiss to gasp for air. “Drake…should we—"
Drake froze for a moment, and then jolted upright, gently moving her off him. “Shit, Riley!” He raked a hand through his hair as he pushed himself back away from her. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry!”
“What are you sorry for? I kissed you!”
“It was just the heat of the moment.”
“Is that all it was?” She asked him softly.
“Yeah…” He responded unconvincingly.
“Are you sure it wasn’t more than that?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know…” her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt nervously. “You made this whole romantic dinner…”
“I wanted to cheer you up. Because we’re friends and—"
“You went out of your way to get me my favorite candy.”
“No, I didn’t. I just….” He closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh before pushing through with the lie. “I was already in the store, and I saw it…”
“You’re a bad liar.”
His eyes flew open, and he fixed her a look that was almost pleading. “What do you want from me, Riley?”
“I think the question is, what do you want from me, Drake?” She scooted closer to him taking in the way he watched her warily. Like a rabbit watching a coyote approach, his face full of fear, longing, and a guarded passion.
He swallowed thickly and tried for a normal tone of voice. “The movie…”
Her hand slid up his thigh to the bulge in his pants. “A movie? Is that really what you want right now?”
“Fuck…” he breathed out in defeat as a shudder ran through his body. He grabbed her wrist to stop her but instead of pushing her away as he had intended, he found himself pulling her into him as he leaned forward, and then they were kissing again.
Lips and hands explored bodies and pulled at clothing. His heart thundered in his chest as a small part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to put the brakes on this.
That part was overruled as she pulled her top off and dropped it on the floor next to them. He stopped breathing for a moment as he drank in her naked form. He yanked his own shirt off and dove back in.
Riley arched her back as she gave herself over to the sensations cascading through her body. Drake’s hands on her bare skin were calloused, rough. The friction was a sharp contrast to the smoothness of her bare flesh. It felt good, forbidden, delicious. She shivered as goosebumps erupted along her spine.
His hot lips on her throat sent ribbons of white-hot desire shooting through her and coiling in her center.
She cried out in protest when he withdrew that touch. “Why are you stopping?”
“I…we shouldn’t…”
“Don’t you want me?”
A self-deprecating laugh slipped out of him. “I want you so fucking bad….you have no idea….. but not like this.”
“Like what?”
“You’re upset…vulnerable...”
“I was upset.” She drew his hand back to her body; he didn’t resist as she placed it so it was cupping a pert breast. “That’s not what I’m feeling right now.”
He was struggling mightily to keep his voice even as he gasped for breath. “…don’t want you to regret…”
“I won’t…”
“You’re in love with Liam…”
“I am…” She dropped her hand and pulled back a little. “We can stop if you want.”
“If I want?” His gaze searched hers, unsure exactly what he was looking for.
“Yes, you. I don’t want to stop.”
“But Liam—”
“I don’t want to think about Liam right now, Drake. I don’t want to think about tomorrow or what any of this means. But…” She moved away from him reluctantly. “I understand if you do.”
He instantly regretted the distance between them.
Before he could decide how to proceed, there was a knock at the door.
Drake’s eyes closed as frustration, relief and a smidge of anger pinged through him.
There was only one person it could be this late.
Talk about timing.
He quickly pulled his shirt back on and tossed her blouse to her. “I’ll go answer the door. You might want to fix your hair, it’s a little mussed.”
“Drake—”
“No, it’s okay,” he told her as he pulled her to him and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before pushing her gently away. “Go make yourself presentable. I’ll show Liam in.”
“Right.” She redressed and hurried over to the closest mirror to smooth her hair back into place.
Drake combed his fingers through his own hair on his way to the front door. Pulling it open, he greeted his best friend with, “Thought you couldn’t get away, Your Majesty?”
“Some last-minute things came up, but I finally managed to slip away.”
“It’s a little late. Valentine’s Day is pretty much over.”
Liam glanced at his watch as he stepped through the doorway. “Not really. Where is she? And why are you home? I thought you had a date.”
Drake shrugged. “She canceled on me. Sick pet or something.” He was only a little horrified at how easily the lie rolled off his tongue. “Riley’s in the media room. We were just about to watch a movie.”
Liam started down the hall. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “Are you coming?”
“No. I’m going to turn in early. You two have fun.”
He needed a shower. A cold one.
He sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He slammed his bedroom door behind him and then leaned back against it, gently banging his head into it several times before muttering to himself, “The fuck did I just do? Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
He shed his clothes as he walked across to the room and into the ensuite. He needed relief.
The water pounded down on him as he wrapped his hand around himself. His head tipped back and his eyes fell closed as he remembered her half-naked form in front of him, the feel of her skin under his fingers, the taste of her lips…..
He groaned out loud as streams of milky whiteness pulsed out of him and splashed onto the tile. He placed both hands on the wall and leaned forward, letting the water run over the back of his head as he watched the detritus of his desire swirl down the drain.
It wasn’t the first time that his ardor for her had landed him in this position, but he knew it was different this time.
They had crossed a line tonight. A line that couldn’t be uncrossed. Even though they hadn’t done the deed, the genie was out of the bottle-- his feelings for her, their obvious sexual attraction to each other, all of it.
A/N: This is for the @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompts: "Be my fake date for a wedding."
The hair color is wrong for my Riley, but this image was perfect!
The copilot twisted around in his seat one too many times, craning his neck as if searching the cabin for something, jostling the pilot in the process.
Liam grunted in consternation. “Drake!”
Drake spun back around, “What?”
“What is your malfunction?”
“What do you mean?” Drake blinked at him in confusion.
“What do you mean what do I mean?” Liam grunted, “We haven’t made it through the preflight checklist because you keep turning around to stare into the cabin! What the hell is so interesting out there?”
“Nothing!” Drake rolled his shoulders, stared blankly out the cockpit window for a moment then turned back to Liam, “Can you see the guy in 12B?”
“What?” Liam’s head swiveled around and then back. “No. Why?”
Drake’s bottom lip protruded as he shook his head. “No reason.”
Liam watched him skeptically. Drake had been visibly agitated since he’d reported for duty. “There has to be a reason.”
“I…he just….he looks a little squirrely. You know what I mean? Untrustworthy.”
Liam’s eyes widened in alarm. “Is he a threat? Do we need to alert security? Did you see a weapon?” He whipped his head around quickly to try and get a good view of the man in 12B. “I can’t see anything. Riley’s blocking my view.”
“Is she talking to him?” Drake’s entire body moved just as Liam turned back around. Their heads collided with a resounding thwack.
“Ow! Fuck!” Liam grabbed his forehead.
“Sorry, sorry!”
“Seriously man, tell me what’s going on right now. I’m calling security!” Liam reached for the microphone but just as he got it to his mouth, Drake slapped it out of his hands.
“No!”
Liam watched in astonishment as the microphone flew out of his grip and hit the window then bounced off the dash. “Are you on drugs right now? Do I need to get another copilot?”
Drake gaped at him. “Seriously? When have I ever done drugs?”
“I don’t know man, but you’re acting really fucking weird.”
Hana ducked her head in to ask, “Are we almost ready? A couple of the passengers are getting antsy.”
“Which ones?” Drake asked.
Hana’s brows pulled together for a moment then smoothed out as she chuckled. “Oh. You know Riley’s ex is out there, don’t you?”
“What?” Drake’s eyes shot to Liam then back to Hana as he denied it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
A relieved breath whooshed out of Liam. At least he now knew Drake wasn’t on drugs and there wasn’t a terrorist on board. He stifled a laugh. “Sure you don’t.”
“I don’t!” Drake glared at them both.
Hana giggled as she backed out of the cockpit.
They finished the checklist and got airborne, but Drake’s agitation quickly returned. “Do you think he’s better looking than me?”
“Who?”
“The guy! In 12B.”
“How would I know?”
“You’re bisexual, right? You can judge that kind of thing.”
Liam scoffed. “First of all, I haven’t laid eyes on the guy. Second of all, I thought you didn’t care.”
“No, I don’t! I mean….just objectively speaking, out of curiosity….I overheard Hana call him eye candy. He can’t be that good-looking, can he?”
“I dunno Drake, Riley is a ten, so I imagine her ex is no slouch in the looks department either.”
“Great.” Drake huffed as he spun around in his seat again.
“Oh, for the love of God, just go look!”
“I can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“Because then she’ll know I care!”
Liam cocked an eyebrow at him, “So you do care?”
“I mean she’ll think I care!”
“You’re really an idiot sometimes, you know that?”
“I don’t follow.”
“Of course you don’t.” Liam shook his head. “The only person you’re fooling is yourself. Put the rest of us out of our misery and just tell the girl that you like her already!”
“I’m not going out there.”
“Okay.”
Drake tapped his fingers on his knees for several seconds before jumping out of his seat. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Sure you do.”
“I had a lot of coffee before we boarded.”
“Sure you did.”
“Fuck you. I’m going to take a piss.”
“Great. Tell Riley I said hi.”
Drake ignored him as he exited the cockpit and headed for the back of the plane where the restrooms were located. He slid his eyes sideways as he passed aisle 12 and scoffed to himself. The guy wasn’t that good-looking.
He was clean-shaven with a strong jawline, and raven hair swept back and gelled to perfection. Was that an Armani suit? How were his eyes that blue?
He slammed into the lavatory and locked the door to glare at himself in the highly polished silver surface of the mirror as he regarded his deep copper-colored eyes and messy, fly-away hair that barely saw a brush, much less hair gel. He ran a hand across the stubble dotting his jaw. It was a strong jawline, wasn’t it? Should he shave?
The guy in seat 12B looked like a CEO or something. Did she like that type? Drake was far more likely to be found in a tent than a boardroom. Did he even own a suit? He owned uniforms. Didn’t women like men in uniforms?
He made pretty good money as a first officer for Cordonian Royal Airlines.
Not CEO money.
“Fuck!” He spun and lashed out at the toilet. His foot connected to the stainless steel sending a sharp jolt of pain shooting up his leg.
There was a knock at the door. “Everything okay in there?”
Shit! It was Riley! “I’m fine. Dropped my…. Wallet…” Fuck, Walker! What the shit is wrong with you, man? Your wallet really?
“Are you sure because that didn’t sound like—”
“I said I’m fine!”
“Okay. Just let me know if—oh, excuse me what?”
From the other side of the door, a man’s voice murmured something he couldn’t make out then both people moved away.
Was that the ex talking to her? He forced himself to count to twenty so he didn’t just barrel out of the bathroom after them. He took several deep calming breaths like Max had tried to show him last time he had been upset about something. At least he thought it was what Max had done. At the time, he had mostly ignored him.
With an air of calm he most certainly did not feel, he exited the lavatory. His eyes went straight to seat 12B. Empty. He backtracked and ducked into the crew area.
Sure enough, there was Riley standing in the middle of the empty inflight catering kitchen talking to Mr. CEO.
All his jealousy evaporated in an instant as he took in her demeanor. Her arms were folded defensively across her chest and her face was furrowed into a frown. She was shaking her head as she leaned forward, her voice lowered but her entire body radiating her discomfort with the conversation.
The guy reached out and grabbed her arm.
She flinched away.
Oh hell no.
Drake didn’t remember moving but he was suddenly next to them, his hand wrapped firmly around the man's wrist. He flung the other man’s arm away from Riley and through gritted teeth asked, “Is there a problem here?”
The man gave him a startled look then annoyance flashed across his face. “We were just having a discussion.”
“Doesn’t look like the lady’s enjoying the conversation.”
“Mind your own business,” he shook his head dismissively and reached for her again, “Riley, if we could just talk privately—”
Drake intercepted the motion before he could touch her. “If you’re attached to that hand and wish to keep it, then I would strongly advise you against touching her again.”
He jerked his hand out of Drake’s grasp and rubbed his wrist. “Was that really necessary?”
Drake never took his eyes off the man as he leaned his body toward Riley, “Do you want to talk to this guy?”
“No.”
“But, Riley—”
“We have nothing to talk about, Nick!”
Drake angled his body so that he was blocking Riley from Nick’s view. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You heard her.”
Nick looked like he wanted to press the issue, but after taking in Drake’s stormy expression, thought better of it. He straightened his suit jacket with a sharp tug. “Fine. I’ll see you at the wedding. We’ll talk then.”
“You’re not coming to my sister’s wedding!”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’ll be there as Clarissa’s plus one.”
Riley shook her head back and forth. “Seriously? When we were dating, you couldn’t stand her!”
A gloating smile crept across his face. “Jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous?”
“Because you’re not over me, Riley. If you were, you’d have bothered to line up a date for the wedding.”
“I—”
“She has a date for the wedding.” Drake cut in as he casually slung his arm around her shoulders.
Nick turned his gaze to Drake for a long, evaluating moment. “Are you the new boyfriend then?”
“Yep. And I’m only going to ask you once to return to your seat. If you don’t stop harassing the flight crew, I will land this plane and have security escort you off of it.”
Nick’s eyes widened slightly as he huffed out, “You wouldn’t dare!”
Riley ran her hand down Drake’s arm as she smirked at Nick, “He would. He’s very protective when it comes to me. I wouldn’t test him if I were you.”
“Whatever,” Nick bumped Drake’s shoulder as he shoved past them and exited the kitchen.
Drake’s arm was still around Riley as he turned his head to watch Nick leave. “Let me know if he bothers you again and I’ll—”
Riley spun on him in fury, her fists raining blows on his chest. “What the fuck did you just do, Drake?”
His hand flew to his chest. “Ow! What the hell, Riley? I just rescued you from that guy!”
“I didn’t need rescuing, Drake. I can handle Nick. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a serial killer or something!”
Drake scoffed with a shake of his head, “I think the phrase you’re looking for is thank you.”
“Oh yeah? Really?”
“Yeah, really!”
“Do you know what you just did? Do you?”
“Um…got the asshole ex-boyfriend to leave you alone?”
“No, you fucking jackass.” She slapped his arm. “You just told him that you’re my boyfriend and my date to my sister’s wedding!”
“So?”
“So?” She threw her arms up in the air. “So when I show up at the wedding with no date and no boyfriend he’ll know that was a lie and I’ll be humiliated!”
“Oh.”
“Yeah…oh!”
They stood in silence for a long moment, Drake rubbing his chest and Riley fuming. Then Drake quietly said, “I’ll go to the wedding with you.”
“What?”
“I mean….if you want me to.”
“I…”
“I did get you into this situation. Let me make it up to you by getting you out of it. One fake boyfriend slash date for sister’s wedding coming right up!”
All the fight went out of her as she took in the hopeful smile on his face. “I can’t ask you to do that, Drake.”
“Why not?”
“Because the wedding is on Valentine’s Day and I’m sure you already have plans. I can’t ask you to cancel—”
“Pfffftttt.” He waved a hand dismissively in the air. “I do not have plans for Valentine’s Day!”
“You don’t?”
Did she sound hopeful?
“No, I do not. No girlfriend, no friend with benefits, no romantic entanglements at all.”
Except with you.
A delighted smile broke out across her face. “Okay, then.”
“So, we’re good?”
She gave him a flirtatious smile as she flipped her hair and turned to leave. “We’re good.”
“Okay, good.”
He watched her walk away with a contented smile on his lips then followed her out of the kitchen and back to the front of the plane. He glowered at Nick as he passed aisle 12.
Nick returned the glare as he adjusted his headphones and slid down in the seat.
When he stepped onto the flight deck Liam greeted him with smug satisfaction. “That was the longest piss in the world.”
“Shut up.” He slid into the copilot seat without looking at his best friend.
“So how’d it go? Did you get a good look at her ex?”
“Um….yeah… he’s a pushy bastard. I had to tell him to keep his hands to himself and….”
“And?”
Drake released a long-suffering sigh knowing Liam was going to find out sooner or later. Riley would tell Max and Max would tell everyone else. “I’m going as her date to her sister’s wedding.”
“Wow! That’s quite a jump from ‘I don’t like her like that’.” Liam chortled gleefully.
Drake kept quiet but his foot started tapping nervously.
“Oh, shit, there’s more! What is it?” Liam prodded.
“Ah…”
“Don’t make me call Max and find out.”
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
“Come on, what else?”
“It’s on Valentine’s Day,” he answered with a resigned sigh.
Liam practically danced out of his seat. “This is amazing! This is epic! Mr. I will never take a woman out on Valentine’s Day because that’s far too much pressure and it’s all about commercialization anyway is taking a woman out on Valentine’s Day. To her sister’s wedding!”
“Why does this make you so happy?”
“Because I get to say I told you so forever!”
“It’s not even a real date.”
“Sure it’s not.”
“It’s not!”
“Does she know that?”
“Yes! I just said I was her boyfriend so that Nick guy would stop—”
“Wait! Wait! You played the pretend boyfriend card to back off her ex?”
“Yeah…so?”
Liam threw his head back and belly laughed. “You are such a goner!”
Drake pressed his lips into a tight line and returned his attention to the control panel. He wanted to argue, he really did. But he couldn’t.
I'm setting up Christmas decors so I thought it would be cute to write a Christmas fanfic. This is the first fanfic I've written since I've returned to Tumblr. @choicesholidays
PROMPT: You did what with the pumpkin pie.
BOOK: The Senior
PAIRING: Kaitlyn x MC
SETTING: Kaitlyn and Emily’s shared apartment, their first Christmas season living together. The snow outside has piled up on the windowsill, reflecting the glow of their string lights. Their tiny, ornament-clad tree stands nicely in the corner of the room. Tater Tot, their golden retriever, is sprawled on his back near the couch, squeaking one of his toys while Tofu, their cat, has claimed her usual perch on the windowsill, silently judging the Tater Tot and his squeaks. The air smells like cinnamon, nutmeg, and the unmistakable warmth of the holidays.
“Kaitlyn! The pie!” Emily’s voice calls out from the kitchen, her tone somewhere between laughter and alarm.
Kaitlyn peeks up from where she’s sprawled on the couch, a sheepish grin forming on her face. She's wearing a pair of red flannel pajama pants and a sweater that says 'Dear Santa, Define 'Good'?'
“What about it?” she asks innocently, though the fork in her hand and the crumbs on her sweater tell another story.
Emily strides into the living room, holding the now-empty pie tin, her reindeer antlers wobbling as she moves. “Don’t you ‘what about it’ me! I left this on the counter ten minutes ago to cool. And now…” She gestures dramatically at the tin, “…this!”
Kaitlyn sits up, still grinning. “Okay, okay, hear me out. It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Emily raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You’re going to have to really sell this.”
“Well,” Kaitlyn begins, standing up and twirling the fork in her fingers like a baton, “I took a small bite for quality control. And then another. And… well, somewhere along the way, the smiley face just kind of… happened.”
Emily blinks, processing Kaitlyn’s words. “Wait, what smiley face?”
Kaitlyn gestures toward the coffee table, where half the pumpkin pie remains, the filling bearing a very lopsided smiley face, complete with two tiny eyes and a crooked mouth.
Emily stares at the pie, then at Kaitlyn, and finally back at the pie. A laugh bubbles up before she can stop it. “You’re ridiculous.”
Kaitlyn steps closer, a playful grin spreading across her face. “Ridiculously creative, you mean?”
Emily groans, though her lips twitch into a smile. “You ate half the pie, Kaitlyn! That was for tonight! Christmas Eve dinner. With our friends. You can't just steal it!"
Kaitlyn gently takes the empty tin from Emily’s hands, setting it on the counter. “Correction: I did not steal it. I relocated it. In my stomach. And I gave it a personality. It wasn't festive enough!"
Emily’s mock glare softens as she looks at Kaitlyn’s hopeful expression. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she mutters, though there’s no real heat behind her words.
“And you’re lucky you have me to make life more exciting,” Kaitlyn quips, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to Emily’s forehead. “Come on, Em. It’s Christmas Eve! What’s a little pie chaos between girlfriends?"
Emily sighs, shaking her head with a laugh. "Girlfriends where one happens to be a pie thief?"
Kaitlyn gasps, clutching her chest in mock horror. “Pie thief? I’m hurt. I prefer pumpkin connoisseur.”
Emily can’t help but laugh as Kaitlyn pulls her into a warm hug. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And yet, you love me anyway.” Kaitlyn smirks, her voice dropping into a teasing sing-song.
“Yeah, yeah,” Emily says, trying to sound exasperated but failing as she grins against Kaitlyn’s shoulder. “We're gonna have to bake a new one and you're in charge of the clean up!"
“Deal,” Kaitlyn says, taking Emily’s hand and leading her back to the kitchen. “But only if you let me sing Christmas carols while we work.”
Emily groans dramatically. “Fine. But if you start decking the halls with your rockstar riffs, I’m cutting you off.”
In the kitchen, the two of them fall into their usual rhythm. Emily measures out the ingredients with precision, while Kaitlyn sneaks little tastes of the filling and sprinkles flour everywhere. Tater Tot wanders in, hoping for scraps, and Tofu watches from a safe distance, flicking her tail lazily as she watches her servants do intensive labor.
“You know,” Emily says as she rolls out the pie crust, glancing at Kaitlyn with a soft smile, “this isn’t exactly how I imagined our first Christmas together.”
Kaitlyn, now covered in flour from an ill-advised attempt to toss dough in the air, leans against the counter and grins. “Better or worse?”
Emily pauses, considering. “Messier. Definitely messier. But also… better.”
Kaitlyn’s grin softens into something more heartfelt. “Yeah?”
"Relocated," Kaitlyn giggles as she steps closer, brushing a bit of flour from Emily’s cheek before cupping her face. “You’re my favorite chaos,” she murmurs, her voice warm and sincere.
Emily leans into Kaitlyn’s touch, her own smile spreading. “You’re mine too. But if you eat this pie before tonight's dinner, I swear…”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Kaitlyn says solemnly. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.”
“Details, details." Kaitlyn laughs, leaning in to kiss Emily, slow and sweet, the warmth of their shared laughter filling the room as the snow continues to fall outside.
As the pie bakes in the oven, Kaitlyn and Emily curl up on the couch under a fuzzy blanket, Tater Tot nestled at their feet and Tofu perched on the armrest. The twinkling lights of their tree cast a soft glow over the room, and in that moment, everything feels perfect—pumpkin pie mishaps and all.
While snowed in together, Trystan asks his friends a morbid question.
trystan thorne, emily rose, ruby webster, luke watanabe
teen | wc: 2.1k | cw: spoilers for book two, chapter fifteen, and talks of death
cfwc prompt: stuck in a snowstorm
Honeysuckle wine and a charcuterie board made by Emily were set on the table, crackers and prosciutto splattered across. The detective giggled, crossing her arms at Trystan’s creation.
“You are such a showoff.”
Trystan snickered as he set the main course on the dinner table. Steam slipped out of the honey-glazed duck. Roasted pears and plump blood sausages sat beside it, the aroma wafting around the air.
“You know I live to boast.”
“I think my dish is way better.” Luke beamed, setting his strawberry spongecake beside the duck. Ruby giggled, laying a batch of cookies on the table.
“Ah, yes, but did you spend two days making it?” Trystan teased, pouring himself a glass of wine. Emily elbowed him, playfully furrowing her brows.
“Anyways.” Ruby cleared her throat. “I’m glad we’re finally home.”
“Agreed.” Luke plopped a grape in his mouth. “I don’t think I can ever handle being in a room with every Thorne again.”
Emily and Trystan shared an uneasy glance, silently unveiling mutual sorrow. Months have passed since their case in Trystan’s homeland, though the time spent there forever stained them. Emily’s mouth ran dry as Sebastyan and Vasili rushed through her mind. The dagger tight in Vasili’s chest, the petrified eyes of Sebastyan as he died at the hands of another Thorne. Two ghosts clinging on their shoulders.
“It’s hard to believe our little stint in Drakovia is over.” Emily shook her head. “I wonder what our next big case is gonna be.”
“No more cheating husband cases for you?” Ruby asked, her brow cocked.
“As tempting as that sounds, I might need bigger fish to go after.” Trystan chuckled, splaying his hand on top of Emily’s.
“Drakovia has spoiled her. Good luck getting her to take the common cases again.”
“Do you think you’d ever look into…your dad’s murder?” Luke asked. Ruby sent him a warning glance, lightly bumping his feet underneath the table. Trystan’s hands curled into Emily’s, solace in his eyes.
Emily gulped. Each time she debated looking into Jimmy’s death, there were far too many holes, far too many questions, and not enough evidence. Distant memories of bickering with Uncle Tommy and Trystan struck her, and she winced at how cruel she became. Desperately hungry to solve the only question she had left. She refused to let her and Trystan turn into a pair of tectonic plates – subtly rubbing against each other, then drifting away forever. To not catch the death of a relationship until it’s already rotting, staining every moment with resentment and twisted words. Even the slightest possibility of another heartbreak sent her spiraling.
“I’ve…thought about it.” She frowned. “One day.”
“One day.”
The moment passed, and the Ginovesi crew - bar Mafalda - began their feast. They all vehemently agreed, to Luke’s dismay, that Trystan’s duck was the clear winner. Luke’s shortcake was no match for the savory and crisp flavors of the traditional Drakovian dinner. Though his cake appeared light and fluffy, it was dense and oddly sour. Ruby’s cookies and Emily’s board tied for second place, both sweet and made with love. A blend of cookies framed like snowflakes, snowmen, Snoopy in Santa hats, and candy canes bunched together on a plate. The charcuterie board was a splendid still life, adorning moondrop grapes, garlic crackers, and rosemary sprigs.
“Good God!” Emily groaned, swallowing a slice of Luke’s cake. “What the fuck did you put in this?”
Luke’s eyes widened. “Do you not like strawberries?”
“Try it yourself! I don’t even…” Emily spat out the remaining bits, nearly gagging.
Reluctantly, Luke cut himself a small serving. Trystan and Ruby cackled as his face turned red, begrudgingly swallowing the cake.
“Jesus!” Luke shivered. “Okay–I think I know what happened.”
“What did you do?!”
“...I may have used salt instead of sugar.”
“Oh my God!” Trystan slapped his knee. “You are a horrible baker!”
“It-it’s not my fault!” Luke said, throwing his hands in the air. Ruby snickered, patting his shoulder.
“Babe. You literally made the cake.”
Rounds of laughs echoed through the kitchen; contentment and joy present on the soft New York night. Blissful moments fell around them as snow tumbled like raindrops, piling up minute by minute.
* * * *
Standing by the window sill, Emily tracked the ebb and flow of snowfall. Faint Christmas tunes slipped through the window crack, presumably from the neighbor. She hummed delightedly, eyes shut. Moonlight burst into the room, dimly lit and warm despite the glowing chill from the glass before her. The swell of nearby saxophones and Earthly beauty brought her to ease.
“Don’t tell the others, Detective, but your charcuterie board was my favorite.” Trystan grinned, standing beside her.
“Oh really?” Emily smirked. “Are you sure you’re not being biased?”
“Hm.” Trystan gave her a so-so gesture. “Definitely not.”
Cupping both sides of her face, Trystan’s pupils widened fondly. Emily turned her head slightly, kissing his palm.
“Your hands still smell like garlic!”
Trystan chuckled, sniffing his hand. Sure enough, the pungent odor attacked his nose. He shrugged it off, focused on the gruff detective.
“I love you, my little moon!”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know! You’re a bit…glum. And very short.”
“I am 5’3, you tall shit!” Emily swatted his arm. “I would call you my ‘sun,’ but you’re more like a little dog.”
“What? How?”
“You follow me around all day. And listen to my orders – for the most part.”
“Not to ruin the moment,” Luke announced as he pointed to his phone. “There’s a snow squall warning. It’ll clear up tomorrow morning, but you guys will have to stay the night.”
“A sleepover!” Ruby squealed. “How fun! I’ll go get blankets so you two can sleep on the couch.”
She disappeared into the hallway closet, hunting for the thickest blankets and pillows possible. Luke cocked an eyebrow, unamused as Trystan and Emily sat on the couch across from him.
“So when you said you loved Ruby’s cookies you were lying?” he asked Trystan, crossing his arms in faux-anger. Trystan chuckled, unashamed.
“I did love Ruby’s cookies – they were phenomenal. Far better than your shortcake anyway,” he teased. “Emily’s just happened to be my favorite.”
“You two are literal children!” Emily snorted. “I–”
Darkness surrounded them. The only light left was the waning candlelight on the kitchen table. Gusts of wind flickered from the cracked window, a biting chill creeping up on their skin. Concerned, Ruby poked her head out of the closet.
“Hot-diggity-daffodil!” Luke gasped. “I guess the power’s out, too.”
“We can see that, Luke.”
Ruby returned with a bundle of blankets. The crew settled in the living room, the window now shut, bottles of wine and lit up candles on the coffee table. An easy silence shrouded the room, with only the croaking rats in the walls and the crackling candles to distract them. They all sipped the remains of the honeysuckle wine, sweetness trickling down their throats like candle wax melting onto the table.
“I have an idea.” Trystan cleared his throat. “It is a bit morbid, though.”
“What is it?” Ruby asked.
“In Drakovia, we go around in circles asking certain…questions. Usually around New Year’s, but we’re in the middle of a snowstorm. It’s not like we have much else to do.”
“What type of questions?”
Trystan sat still, contemplating. An eerieness in his eyes, a peculiar tenacity about him. He flinched at the briefest second, then shrugged.
“If you were dying, how would you like to pass away? What would you like to have with you?”
Silence surrounded them once more, their breaths slightly more tense and strained. Emily sat closer to Trystan instinctively, craning her head against his shoulder. The candles continued to wail, as Ruby cleared her throat with somberness in her eyes.
“I think…if we ever got one...” She glanced at Luke. “I’d like to have a little cat in my lap. And Luke to hold my hand. And maybe a cup of tea, but only in that calico-print mug you got me for our anniversary.”
Luke wiped tears from Ruby’s cheek, a rare solemness on his face. He grinned weakly, pressing a kiss on the side of her face.
“I’d like Ruby next to me, laying by me. And I want it all to be quiet,” Luke murmured. “I don’t want to be able to hear anything. But I want there to be a window. So I can look up at the sky. I don’t care if it’s day or night…that’s all I want.”
The candles remained lit, its flame mute and growing frail. Warmth bloomed between them, huddling closer together.
Trystan fiddled with his fingers, as Emily rubbed circles around his legs. It was muscle memory. Rituals and silly minuscule traditions became more familiar to the two of them with each passing month. Chopping garlic cloves, peeling oranges, collecting ugly trinkets.
“I’d want someone to play old Drakovian music…the songs my father showed me as a kid. And...” Trystan grinned at Emily, a smile so unabashedly bold and bare it nearly brought her to tears. “I want you to kiss my forehead. And rub my feet.”
Emily pecked the top of his head, eyes burning as Diana’s kind words echoed in her mind. Trystan wiped away her tears, tenderness with every touch.
She was familiar with death. A one-sided friendship, a shadow lurking behind her with every step she took. It offered no hope and no excuses. The only things bereavement brought were ghostly memories and pearls from the past rolling in her hand, daring to be dropped. Her fingers trembled, her mouth dry as she urged herself to go on.
“I don’t want it to hurt,” Emily said finally. “Every single one of them died in pain. And alone. Sonja. Bethany. Nadja. Sebastyan. I don’t want it to be like that. I want to be ready. And...have Trystan next to me.”
They all leaned against each other. The candles shined well into the night. Empty wine bottles scented the room, warm and heady. Emily shut her eyes, and in her mind, she was a sleeping child being carried to bed after a long drive home. Laughter through the walls, the ticking of a nearby clock, soft jazz slipping through the window, a kiss on her cheek. Perhaps it’d be good to her. Just a brief second and all that’d remain was a tombstone with her name.
Emily opened her eyes, the rest of her friends in tears. Trystan stroked her hair, still smiling. It was simple. It was clear.
“All we want is everything we have,” he said, their faces inches apart. “And I’m the richest man in the world.”
* * * *
Ruby and Luke shut their bedroom door, Emily and Trystan now alone on the couch. With her legs in his lap, he rested a hand on her thigh, tracing lazy circles. The candles had long died out, leaving only moonbeams and constellations to light up the room.
“Em?” Trystan whispered as Emily moved over to lie on his chest. She gazed into his silver eyes, exasperation clear on his face.
“Mhm?”
“Do you remember when I refused to go on that plane? All those months ago.” Emily snorted quietly, Trystan gliding his hands along her back.
“Of course I do. I knew you weren’t going to.”
“Do you remember what you said to me after that?”
“Mhm. I told you there’s a reason partners and romance don’t mix well. That it’s trouble waiting to happen.”
“And then I told you that I just so happen to like trouble.”
They smirked, noses crinkled and eyes bagged. Trystan cupped Emily’s chin, palms still smeared with the scent of garlic.
“I’m glad we’re partners.”
“I am too.”
* * * *
a/n: happy holidays, everyone! thank you for reading this – i came up with this idea FOREVER AGO but was never able to execute it until now. i’ve always loved the idea of thinking of death, not as something to fear (though I still struggle with that), but rather as something that is just a little moment that’s painful, and maybe not necessarily beautiful, but something that just happens organically. like that one poem that’s like “i hope death is like being carried to your bedroom as a child.” anyway – thank you again for reading!
