Menu

More apps built by Reedsy

reedsymarketplace

Assemble a team of professionals

reedsystudio

The writing app for authors

reedsylearning

Writing courses, events and memberships

reedsydiscovery

Get your book reviewed

reedsyprompts

Weekly writing prompts and contests

Menu

Prompts

Contests

Stories

Blog

Featured stories

Activity feed

Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

Lgbtq+ Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Discover incredible works of queer fiction right here, on this page of fresh new LGBTQ+ stories.

Lgbtq+ Short Stories – Page 3

After Joyriding in Riyadh

David B

Weekly Contest #361

Note: this story contains themes of homophobia. It's also entirely inspired by an excellent academic work called Joyriding in Riyadh by Pascal Menoret. Despite the air conditioning blasting my face, my palms are sticky against the leatherette steering wheel. There’s not quite enough sweat to pool or drip, just enough to start merging us into one. Me and this sensible Volkswagen Golf, together forever.The girls are in the backseat, Tabitha and her schoolfriend, and they’re talking about boys.“Mark’s definitely gay,” Tabitha insists, “he has ...

4 likes

Read story

Until Next Summer

Weekly Contest #361

I like to think I’m a perfectly ordinary boy. Ordinary boys, however, don’t speak with sprites. Or trade stories with a pooka. Or enchant people with music. Or persuade others with a few well-placed words. No, I’m not an ordinary boy. Fae-touched—that's what the villagers call me. They think the fae took an interest in me sometime after I was born, the way they sometimes take an interest in lost children, crossroads, or lonely houses at the edge of the woods. They're wrong. I’ve known the truth since I was old enough to ask why I could see ...

13 likes

Read story

Pretty Things In Summer

Eleanor M. Boronia

Weekly Contest #361

[Sensitive Content - Implied homophobia] I was young when a man warned me about pretty things. It was half-way through a road trip when my family stopped at an almost ghost town. By the street perched a house, advertising its collection of antiques: the memories of so many people, so many lives now gone. While Mum looked at a rusty wheelbarrow, I found a clock beneath a glass dome, wedged between a photo frame more nails than timber and a collection of silverish spoons. With painted gold plastic and an art deco face, it was the most beautifu...

11 likes

Read story

Sunscreen

Weekly Contest #361

Tumbling waves collided with the sand, the aftermath bubbled and spritzed as the water subsided, as though the ocean was taking a deep breath. It exhaled more forcefully this time; waves splashed on rock. Bells tolled in the distance as the buoy tower rolled gently on the infinite changing tide. The rhythmic song of the beach always calmed me. Gulls cawed at each other as they spotted their next victim, a chubby man perfumed with tomato sauce and hot chips speckled in chicken salt. He was the type of man who once was blessed with a muscular ...

5 likes

Read story

My End with Dahlia

Rose Aderyn

Weekly Contest #360

The armchair was different under my hands, hands drawing tight lumps in my newest furniture piece. Maybe that was my throat constricting, the blaring warning on the tv had been enough. People were scrambling outside as the sky sketched bruised lines, smaller meteors broke the blue with grey trails. It was 2032, the year a meteor was set to impact. Scientists had been happy to state that the chance of impact had been a mere 3.12% chance years ago, but as time grew forward it became more and more apparent that the chance was no longer merely 3...

8 likes

Read story

The Fall of Elias Larson

Kevin Lind

Weekly Contest #360

The clock on the wall behind Dr. Wentworth read 3:50, and in that moment Elias Larson knew that he was not going to pass. Nothing had been said, but he read it all the same in the body language of his doctoral committee like a farmer reads the weather in the sky – a drop in air pressure rather than by anything stated. Dr. Okonkwo’s pen had stopped moving twenty minutes ago and had not moved since. Dr. Hendricks kept folding and unfolding the corner of a page as though it personally disappointed her. And Dr. Wentworth, who had guided Elias’ l...

15 likes

Read story

You Never Forget Your First Kiss

Weekly Contest #360

“That movie was sick.” It was the most perfect night as Tyler and I walked with our Coldstone ice cream – he with something chocolate and I with Birthday Cake Remix, obviously. “I know,” I said. “Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were so perfect in it, you really start to believe that they were a married couple.”“Yea, except they were spies.” Tyler, though factually accurate, looked like a dog begging for recognition that he was, in fact, a good boy, all of which reminded me that Tyler was just as dumb as his fellow thirteen year olds. I, also th...

8 likes

Read story

The Spark

David Poslad

Weekly Contest #360

Malik remembered the day they met like a tattoo on his heart, with a heat that lingers long after. The bar was loud that Friday and Malik, on his fifth yawn, messed up the foam on a beer. Meanwhile, Felicitas was wiping her glass with theatrical precision, still playing their guessing game. „The word is the colour of my hair.“He snorted „Brown?“ „Specific, Malik. Try again. You know these little stones where insects are trapped in?“ He opened his mouth to answer, as one of the birthday guests met the bar. His mind still rattling with colour...

8 likes

Read story

The Tale of Two Flags: It's the Third One that Matters

Alex Ghani

Weekly Contest #360

I hesitate to contribute this story in honor of Pride Month given widespread prejudice. I mean to share a story. If it offends the editors or readers, you are welcome to stop reading. Back when I used to live on Halsted Street in Chicago, my roommates and I would display two large Pride flags outside the bay windows facing the famous street of Halsted at the beginning of June for the month. Over the years, the brilliance of their colors faded from the monthlong sun exposure, perhaps a reflection of our own brilliance. And then there was the...

5 likes

Read story

ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Dafna Flieg

Weekly Contest #360

I have been disappointing my dad since I was born. Most recently in my inability to play floor hockey. Whether my coach is racist or my sheer lack of talent is that obvious, I’ll never know. As I sit on the bench praying that he wont sub me in when Patrick or LJ need a break, I mentally prepare my GRWM evening routine I’ll post later tonight. I have 22k on TikTok and nearly 14k on IG but that would never impress my dad. Actually if you want to know the truth I think he’s pretty ashamed of my videos. And I’m not surprised by that in the sligh...

7 likes

Read story

The Scenario.

Tucker Sloan

Weekly Contest #359

TRIGGER WARNING- this short story contains Mature Content, Some Violence, Suspense, and Language. The Scenario. Part One- I Could Not Help Myself. I sharpened the large blades, and I made the first cut. My mother’s maple, spiral ham recipe served with roasted vegetables and a nice salad was always a hit. Then I said it, “Dinner’s on.” And the Kendricks from around the corner came to the table. So innocent. Sheepish. And before they could take their first sip of wine, I came out with it, “I’m gonna sleep with your husband.” Karessa just glare...

4 likes

Read story

A Yearning Rebuked

Kevin Lind

Weekly Contest #359

The dye stung where the razor had nicked the Emir, Abd al-Rahman III. He remained still in spite of it, shutting his eyes with a grimace while the servant worked the black paste through his beard. The grey vanished stroke by stroke. The red hair his mother had gifted him also diappeared. He had not let a soul in Córdoba see his natural color in twenty years. His chamberlain read to him while the servant worked. A border tax, and a marriage among the Banu Qasi. Abdul, as he was known, was to bless it. Or forbid it. Whichever suited his fancy...

9 likes

Read story

The Scent of Limerence

Monique M

Weekly Contest #359

The smell of your room drapes over me like a quilted blanket, wrapping around me until I’m cocooned and safe. Like the candles flickering from your desk and nightstand, the warmth of your presence beside me sparks in the pit of my stomach, coursing through me like hot flashes every time you shift just a little closer. Can you feel my presence? Does it suffocate you the way that yours does me? Does it feel like being set free at the same time? Are you subconsciously leaning into it when you inch closer? Your hair swishes a l...

5 likes

Read story

The Coffee Shop

Weekly Contest #359

Freya wasn’t a person you walked past and glanced over your shoulder at, only to keep moving forward — you’d stop and take her in. She wasn’t a person only standing ahead of you in line that disappeared by the time it’s your turn, and the cashier checks you out — you’d still smell her long after she left. She wasn’t someone you’d forget about come morning again — she consumed your thoughts at night, into the next day, and throughout the week until you caught a glimpse again. Freya is light. She is magic in the room you stand in. Magic and l...

5 likes

Read story

Straight Between the White Lines

Weekly Contest #359

The first time I noticed the woman in the white Toyota, she was sitting alone in her car, scrolling through her phone. She blew softly on her brightly colored travel mug, her lips pursing in a quiet, natural rhythm before she took a sip. It was a rainy day in September, cold enough for the windows to fog up. I was sitting in my car, waiting for the heavy droplets to ease up so I could dash to the door. I assumed she was doing the same. A few seconds later, a black umbrella appeared from her car, and I noticed one white Converse sneaker slide...

4 likes

Read story

‹ Prev Next ›