#lgbtq short story

[whhhhaaaaaaaaat]

short/fictional story

[Location: Boston, 1774. Samuel Adams, a fervent patriot, and Henry Lewis, a hardcore Loyalist, meet in a dimly lit tavern named The Harpoon, and their discussion is charged with the growing tension of the day and age. The strain between the Colonies and Great Britain is high. ]

Samuel Adams sits, drinking alone in the back of The Harpoon, his mind elsewhere. He is on his third drink, and in the mood for a fight..or something else of that nature. Looking around the dark and relatively dank tavern, he is bored, bored of the repetitive music, the stifulingly heavy chatter, the lighting that is so poor he can barely read over his own notes from the towns people’s meeting the afternoon prior. 

Sam Adams is bored. At least he is until he sees Henry Lewis, a man around the same age as him. He knew Henry was a loyalist from the tabloids spread about, and this was in hard contrast to Sam’s patriotic beliefs. However, something about Henry deeply intrigued Samuel, but he could not seem to put his finger on what it might be. He had seen him all around, at the parliament, the local college, bookstore, market, but never at the Tavern. 

Well, Sam thought to himself, (although, it might have been the several drinks talking) now might be the time to try something new. 

Sam waved him over. 

“ Henry, it's been some time! I trust you're well?” 

“As well as one can be in these troubled times, Samuel.” 

He did not seem friendly in the slightest, yet not completely hostile, so next, Sam said

“Sit good sir! Let me buy you a drink…it's been a long time. After all”. 

To his (pleasant) surprise, Henry smirked at him and said 

 “Well, I don’t see why not” and slid into the booth across from Sam. 

For a moment, Samuel just stared in the eyes of the man across from him, at a loss of words. It seems he had suddenly forgotten everything he planned to say. It stayed like that until Henry broke the silence. 

“The situation in the colonies grows dire.” 

Samuel nods and takes a sip of his drink. 

“Aye, the heavy hand of Parliament and the King grows heavier still. The Coercive Acts, or as we call them, the Intolerable Acts, they suffocate us.” 

Henry leans forward, gets closer to Samuel’s face. 

“ But these measures were necessary to assert authority. The Tea Act, the Stamp Act, were attempts to regulate trade and maintain the necessary order we need.” 

Samuel pulls back from the other, shaking his head. 

“Order? What they impose is tyranny! *he bangs his fist on the table* The Stamp Act, taxing our every document, the Tea Act forcing their goods upon us without representation!” 

Henry chuckles, but his laugh is humorless. 

“Representation? The colonies are part of the British Empire. Parliament represents the entire empire, including the colonies' best interests.” 

He leans back in his chair before speaking again, a wry smile on his lips. 

“Can one fault the Crown for maintaining order?”

Sam is almost ready to jump up to his feet now, 

“ How can it represent us, how can you say it is in our best interest when we have no voice, no say in its decisions? The Boston Massacre, the bloody conflict that took innocent lives, all because of the heavy presence of British soldiers enforcing unjust laws!” 

“Sit back down Samuel. You are making a scene. Passionate as always, I see” 

For a moment, Henry smirked again, but his face fell as he continued, “That incident was regrettable, but it was not the intent of the Crown. The soldiers were here to maintain peace.” 

Sam jumps right back up again. “Peace? Peace? By oppressing us? And now, the closing of the port, the Quartering Act, stripping us of our basic rights!

Sipping his own drink, Henry responds flatly; 

“These measures are to restore order and ensure loyalty to the Crown. You are quite a smart man, Samuel.”

He tilted his head to the side. 

 “I thought you would understand that independence will only lead to chaos and ruin.” 

“Independence is our path to freedom from tyranny. Henry, we have to fight for our rights, for the principles of liberty and self-governance!” 

Sam was getting more and more flustered, his face reddening, partly from the intensity of the discussion, and partly from the alcohol.  

Henry just shook his head, 

“You risk everything you have, everything you are, for a dream of independence. The path you're on will lead to war, Samuel. Is that truly what you desire?” 

“If it means securing the rights of our people, then so be it.” There was determination in his eyes. 

“We'll face whatever comes our way.” 

[The conversation grows more intense, each man defending his beliefs passionately, rooted in their opposing perspectives on governance and liberty. The tavern echoes with the clash of ideas, mirroring the brewing conflict between the Patriots and Loyalists in the colonies.]

----------------------------------------------

Samuel Adams was not having a good morning. He had woken up entirely too late for his lecture at the town college, with a raging headache and no time for breakfast. In his hazy state, he was unsure of what books to grab, so he simply shoved them all into his folding bag and ran down the streets feverishly, despite the cold and harsh wind of the foggy January morning. 

Upon arrival, Sam stared up at the large clock looming over the courtyard of the college. 

Only…13 minutes late. He could live with that. What Samuel could not live with however, was the first face he sawn walking into the lecture hall, was that of Henry Lewis. 

He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. Sam knew they were in the same lecture hall, yet for some reason it had never registered to him before. Henry looked up at Samuel, and smirked the same way he had four nights prior. Sam scowled. He was suddenly aware of his disheveled hair and mismatched clothes, a stark contrast to Henry’s neat and rather put together look, his brown hair held back to show more of his face and almost amber eyes–

Sam had never noticed the color of his eyes. He shook it off and aimed to walk right past the man, but stopped when

“You look rough. Tough night, I suppose?” 

Even though Henry had whispered the words, the others around him laughed, and then started coughing to cover it up. Samuel’s scowl deepend, and he decided the best course of action was to sit directly behind Henry, and throw tiny paper balls at the back of his head the whole lecture. As he was nearly 21 years old, it was surely the mature thing to do. 

This went on until the lecture was split into groups for a more targeted discussion. Surprisingly to no one but them, Samuel and Henry were grouped together.

Sam wasted no time with formalities. 

“ Henry, you cannot possibly defend the Crown's tyranny any longer. Townshend Acts, the Intolerable Acts, the unforgiving violence, how can you turn a blind eye to the oppression we face?” 

“You fail to see the bigger picture. The King's measures aim to maintain order, to keep the colonies within the rightful fold of the Crown.” 

“Nothing about this is rightful!” 

Henry frowned. 

“While your presentation is magnetic, can we not find common ground between the loyalties and liberty?”

Samuel narrowed his eyes and leaned in slightly.

“How can there be common ground when the Crown's edicts crush our livelihoods? The Quartering Act thrusting soldiers upon us without consent, and again, the Boston Massacre where drops upon drops of innocent blood were spilled…”

 Henry raised an eyebrow. 

“Ah, but those were acts of defiance, Samuel. Should rebellion be the answer to disagreements? Can't we find a way to reconcile without resorting to barbaric unrest?” 

“Do you think I am a joke, Henry? Reconciliation is not possible when our liberties are at stake. The Continental Congress has spoken—we must declare independence!” 

“Independence? How bold” Henry practically sneered. “But think of the consequences, Samuel. Chaos, uncertainty... And what of the Quebec Act? The Crown seeks stability, not chaos…unlike yourself.” 

He said the last bit with particular nastiness. 

It was at that moment the lecture was released. People streamed out the door like ants, yet as soon as they were back in the courtyard, Henry and Samuel continued to squabble.  

“I insist that Stability at the cost of our freedom is no stability at all! The intolerable yoke of British rule must be cast off for us to flourish as a free nation–”

–Henry snorted at that. 

What we need is a revolution! Fueled by the refusal to pay unjust taxes, the rejection of tyranny!”

“You speak of tyranny so often Samuel. But what you mean to say is misunderstood governance–” 

“Governance devoid of our voice is tyranny, Henry! The Declaration looms, as our call for independence echoing the cries of a burgeoning nation!” 

“But can you truly not be swayed by the allure of a compromise, a path less turbulent?”

“Compromise tainted by continued subjugation is no compromise at all.”

They continued their walk in silence for a moment. 

“You know Samuel, that refusing of yours to even consider another perspective is un-American in and of itself, as you yourself might say”. 

Sam hated the tone of voice Henry used. He sounded aloof, like he was so much better and so superior, and so above anyone else. He muttered something under his breath, something that clearly bothered the other man. 

“What was that?” Henry inquired. 

“Nothing.” 

“What. was-”

“I said, sir, you are a coward, and are obviously deeply deeply afraid that–”

And Sam did not get to finish that sentence because Henry shoved him backwards, hands grabbing his shoulder and wrist tightly. 

“You do not get to call me that., “ He hissed into Sam’s ear, “What are you? A petty child, resorting to name calling?” 

Yet that also did not matter because Samuel was a much better fighter than Henry, evident in the way that half a second later, he flipped the situation so Henry was roughly shoved against the red brick wall behind them. 

“You disgust me. So full of yourself, Henry, all the bloody time! Thinking that eventually it will pay off, when it won’t because no one in this damn city likes you!” 

“Like I said” Henry was breathing hard “you are nothing but a petty child. Run along and play now.” 

Samuel was seething, yet he did not miss the way for less than a fourth of a second, but he was sure that Henry’s eyes flicked 

Right 

Down

To 

His 

Lips. 

His grip on the other went slack, and unsure of what to do, he muttered a simple 

“I hate you.” 

He pushed away from the wall, releasing Henry. 

“Trust me,” Henry spat. “ it’s mutual”.

if u want more to the story lmk

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hey! I love your work and got into it in the beginning of highschool :) I was wondering if you have time to write about two people (MLM) who have been friends for a few years but always had a little tension? Like a taller boy teases a shorter fiery boy trope. Then wall pinning happens lol. Think it would be interesting if the taller boy was the more dominant and possessive one even if he's the chiller more reserved one. I imagine they're both drunk too lmao.

"You know, one of these days," Aiden said, "I'm going to punch you in the face if you don't shut your mouth."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you have to be able to reach first?"

"I'm not that short!"

"I suppose I could get you a box," Jack mused, as they walked home.

"I don't need a box to reach your face!"

"Maybe a step ladder."

"I swear to god-"

"-You don't get vertigo, do you? It would be really embarrassing for you if you tried to punch me in the face and then immediately passed out because you weren't used to the altitude-"

Aiden shoved him, heat burning in his cheeks despite the chill of upcoming winter and the warming buzz of a couple beers. It just made Jack laugh softly in that aggravating gorgeous way of his, so Aiden shoved him again, harder, up against the wall.

He had wild notions of proving something - strength, perhaps, as he held Jack pinned up against the brick work - only to find himself caught off guard as he looked up Jack's expression. The lazy grin was there, sure, but something else too. His eyes simmering in the moonlight.

Jack's grin widened a notch. Teasing. Taunting, in a way he never seemed to do with anyone else.

"That's my chest, Aiden, that you have your hands on," he said in an oh so helpful tone of voice. "In the world of tall people who can actually reach the top shelf-"

Aiden kissed him.

It did shut Jack up, so there was that, and though he did admittedly have to go up on his toes he could definitely reach Jack's oh so cool stupid handsome face. Ha! His grip tightened on the front of Jack's shirt, trying to drag him down, closer, a soft sound escaping him as Jack kissed him back.

...Jack kissed him back. He was kissing Jack.

Aiden pulled back, panting, eyes wide.

Jack's head tilted, studying him. The simmering intent thing had entirely taken over the lazy grin.

Aiden swallowed, mouth abruptly dry. Scorched. A hundred small light bulbs pinged in his brain. Jack smiled, then.

Oh so easily, as if he'd merely been letting Aiden play at pinning him the whole time, Jack switched their positions. Aiden's breath caught. He was not that short, but he was rather aware of the way that Jack's body pressed flush against his own, bracketing him in, of the way he had to tilt his head back a fraction to hold Jack's gaze. Of how warm Jack was compared to the cool wall behind him.

"Interesting punching technique," Jack said. "Do you wanna try again?"

"Prick." Adrian craned up eagerly to kiss him again and...Jack rocked just out of reach. Teasing. Adrian glared at him, cheeks flushed further. He tugged at his wrists in Jack's hold, fully prepared to drag him down by force if necessary, but found no give.

Jack had him well and truly pinned.

Adrian's stomach swooped pleasantly.

Jack laughed again. Amused, fond, and just a little bit more velvet than before.

"You're so annoying," Adrian said.

"Mm. Is that the look on your face right now? Annoyed?"

"What would you call it?"

"Turned on."

The simple response made Aiden's brain blank. Mostly because it was true. Mostly because he wasn't supposed to just go and say that, in his oh so composed Jack voice, and make everything in Aiden squirm delicious and entirely too exposed.

The lazy grin returned. "I could come down a bit," Jack said. "If you asked nicely."

"I'm not that short!"

"Then kiss me."

Aiden managed to get their lips to brush that time, close enough for Jack to nip his mouth gently. It wasn't enough. It wasn't anywhere near enough.

"I hate you," Aiden huffed.

"I'm getting that."

"You really should shut up."

"If only someone was tall enough to kiss me, I would."

Aiden glared at him again. "Just you wait until we're in bed. Then you won't be vertically cheating!"

"Vertically cheating, huh?"

"It's what it's called when people are like you."

"I see. But when we're in bed together, as you suggest, you're totally not going to end up writhing beneath me?"

Well wasn't that a mental image.

"Please just bloody kiss me already!"

Jack leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead.

"Oh, come on." Aiden tried to sound grumpy, livid, instead of utterly delighted. He didn't think it worked.

"Ask nicely," Jack sing-songed.

"You want to kiss me too just as badly, I can see it on your face."

"Yes. But I can kiss you all I like." Jack proved the point by leaning down, pressing a succession of kisses to Aiden's temple, his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He dodged with uncanny, teasing swiftness when Aiden tried to capture his mouth. "See."

"Please," Aiden said, after a beat, "kiss me."

And, oh so obligingly, Jack did.

They hurried the rest of the way home after that.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am very excited!! Here is the cover for my brand new short story, Awash in Her Color. This will be hitting the masses at Galaxy Con San Jose August 16-18! So soon! I've partnered with A Civil Dawn booth 226, so look for their booth if you'd like to snag a copy of my very first published work, ever.

In addition to a short queer romance story featuring Astrid, a lonely painter on vacation who meets Aoife a mysterious local Ohhhhh so exciting A Faun's Love Story has be readapted for print and takes up the latter portion of the books.

If you are a member on my Ko-fi page and haven't seen my update yet, you have early access to download a free PDF of the story before anyone else even gets to see it as thanks for your amazing support!

[zu-zup]

Gay wedding

[dresdencodak]

Onald Creely, the Professional Ghost Story From my series of one-off short stories!

[sorynsshorts]

Edward

Who enjoys nude beaches?

[augustyearroundprod]

It’s the end of Darling’s world, and she knows it. Actually, her world died three years ago. Darling is a survivor. But when Darling hears the call of another lonely girl over her radio, Darling has a choice. She can die in the bunker she calls home or find what she craves most — a true friend. 

Written By: Katie Rose Rogers Narrated By: Katie McGrath

Well well well the dream team is back, and magic was once again made! I don’t think I’ll ever have enough wonderful things to say about the Katies! But I shall continue to try. @katierosietoesrogers is a creative savant, a writing powerhouse, and a dream of a human being! You can count me forever as her biggest fan! And Katie McGrath, who has so healthily escaped social media… I mean what a truly remarkable actress! Everything she touches is elevated. And once again, she breathes such life into this story! I’m honored these two continue to come of this journey with us!

I can’t wait for you all to listen to HOW TO SURVIVE THE APOCALYPSE!!

[sapicloveyou]

Based on a true story

[iblameashley]

Interruptions and Interlude

Civilian | Male | Gay

2,900~ words

Content: Injury recovery, medication, alcohol, nightmares, relationships (platonic and intimate mentioned), swearing, cohabitation, teasing and ribbing of friends, mostly fluff, gay stuff.

Follow up to Ghost Falls Silent, Simon Stands

Simon 'Ghost' Riley | John Price | Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick | Male Reader

!!!SFW!!!

[Its been a while since my last update! Sorry!] Ghost recovery gets a bit upended when he gets a visit from Price and Gaz, who want to check up on their friend and brother-in-arms... and maybe to see how well he's getting along with his 'temporary' roommate. Neither can resist the opportunity to mess with the man, especially when said roommate returns to the flat.

Tag List: @a-sleepy-dissapointment

(Permission to use image from @loneghostwolf)

The quiet routine of recovery was getting easier for Ghost – more than he wanted to admit. Even with you around, his flat was still, miraculously, a bubble of calm. Perhaps he had just gotten used to the sound of your steps at night, or the soft clattering in the kitchen each morning. But you weren’t intrusive anymore. You were just... there.

About the only thing you did to truly piss him off – which he apparently had just adjusted to – was you pulling the cigarette from his fingers and putting it out.

“Smoking will kill you.” You had said. Ghost would have burst out laughing at the comment, but his body still hurt. There was a part of him that couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being a little shit with him, too.

But at one point, Ghost had made an unspoken agreement with you. He’d go on the balcony, and he’d only smoke once a day, just to shut you up. Just so you wouldn’t give him that look.

Today was different though. The silence of the flat was... quieter. You were currently back at your flat, doing laundry, checking the post, and whatever else you needed to do on your day off.

“Finally some peace.” Ghost grumbled to himself, though even he was unconvinced by the statement.

Ghost tucked his hand under his shirt to run his calloused fingers over the newest addition to his scars. The scar was rougher than his fingertips, and itched something fierce. He let out a throaty growl and pushed off the balcony railing, flicking his cigarette butt into the nearby tray.

“Fucking hell...”

Before the lumbering grump could do anything else, there was a loud rap at the door. He inhaled sharply and made his way to the front door.

Opening the door with some force, he gave a cocky smirk, “Forgot yer key agai-”

He stopped mid-sentence as he took in the sight before him. Price and Gaz stood there in the hallway in their civvies.

“Oh... Cap, Gaz.” Ghost nodded before stepping aside to let the two men in. “Thought you were my shadow... forgetting his key again.”

As Price and Gaz entered, Ghost noticed a paper bag in hand. Burgers.

“You like that shadow of yours, and don’t you dare try to convince me otherwise, Simon.” Price shot back with a cocky smirk as he walked in.

Ghost grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. “Shoes off. Flat rule.” He said. His brow furrowed as he realized that rule was yours, not his, and somewhere along the way just stuck. He grit his teeth and let go of Price.

Price of course didn’t question it, Gaz either, and both removed their shoes before going further.

“Burgers?” Ghost asked, changing the subject abruptly.

Gaz gave a curt nod and moved to the kitchen table, setting the bag down. “Figured you were getting tired of homemade meals and someone picking up after you.” He prodded Ghost.

“Fuck off, Gaz, and get the burgers out.”

Price let out a sound similar to a snort as he made himself at home, opening the fridge to grab some beers for the group.

“Yes, sir.” Gaz mocked him with a salute before opening the bag and setting four burgers on the table with some chips. “Where is ‘the shadow’ you two speak of?” He inquired.

“Back at ‘is flat right now. Living out of his luggage right now and needed to do some errands.” Ghost explained, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. “Got ‘im a burger too?”

“Of course, gotta thank the mate that’s been taking care of our LT.” Gaz grinned. “We’ll save it for him.”

Ghost gave a grunt and joined Price and Gaz at the kitchen table, slumping down in the chair and scratching at the scar.

“Shouldn’t be scratching at it.” Price chastised Ghost like a father.

“Christ, you sound like ‘im right now.” He hissed, scratching it more indignantly. “Like I got my own missus on me arse. Pattering behind me like a fuckin’ puppy.” He continued to complain. He stopped scratching and grabbed the burger, unwrapping it and taking a large bite.

“...and for some reason, that lad sees charm in you...” Gaz said, squinting at Ghost as if trying to see that charm for himself. He knew it was just Ghosts personality. The alley cat in him was coming out; he wants friends, family and love, but already hissing and swatting everyone back.

“Domesticated life suits you, Simon.” Price remarked in his usual gruff tone.

“You two come here to tell me to put a ring on the lads finger? Or check up on me?” Ghost replied, this time actually annoyed by the teasing. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of such ribbing since he was a recruit.

“Both, obviously.” Price grinned, chomping into his burger.

“So how are you doing?” Gaz asked, picking up a chip and biting the end off.

Ghost fingered his beer for a moment, then took a slow sip. He swallowed and stared at the men opposite him. “I want to be back on base. I want to be back on missions.” He replied, trying to be diplomatic about his answer. “Can’t do fuck all as a civvy.”

“Well, you are technically a dead man, does make taking a holiday difficult without being smuggled over boarders as an operative.” Gaz laughed. “But that wasn’t the question, mate. How are you doing?” He repeated.

Ghost looked at Price as if expecting him to bail him out, but Price just sat there eating his burger and drinking his beer.

Prick.

“I’m antsy. Feel useless.” He confessed. A heavy sigh escaped his mouth. “Hate the lad doting on me so much, like I’m incapable...”

“The lad likes you, Simon. Whether that’s in a romantic way or platonic, I can’t say. But he wants to help you. He wants his friend to be OK.” Price finally interjected plainly. No, it was soft again. He was being a father again.

Prick.

As is the topic of Ghosts new flatmate was a summoning spell, the front door clicked open and you appeared, suitcase in tow and a couple grocery bags slumped over on the floor.

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You took a few minutes to get settled, giving a polite nod to both Price and Gaz as you entered the flat. Price, being the gentleman he is, came over and took the bags from you and put the items away until you returned from your room, suitcase no longer in tow.

“Got ya’ a beer, mate.” He nodded at the cold beer at the empty spot at the kitchen table. “Take a seat, we brought ya’ some food.”

You smiled and plunked down into the seat with the three other men. “Thanks, I’m starving.” Your stomach grumbled on cue. You look over to Ghost eating his burger and chips, “Hey did you remember to take—” You begin to ask.

“Yes, I took the damn pills, mum.” Ghost cut you off, taking a long swig of beer.

“Good.” You unwrap your burger and take a bite.

Gaz can’t help but smirk, “Don’t talk to your mum like that, mate, its disrespectful.” I chides Ghost.

You slide down in your seat a little bit, a bit uncomfortable with the interaction. Had you been taking things too far? Were you being to pushy about everything? Questions started to whirl around in your head.

Not going unnoticed, Gaz placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We appreciate you looking after the LT here. He’s a good man, bit daft, and doesn’t tend to take care of himself... so needs someone to light a fire under his arse every now and then.”

You nodded, though it only partially comforted you.

You pick away at your food and sip on your beer, watching the three of them talk among themselves. Its nice to see Ghost more in his element – with his mates – but you couldn’t stop thinking that you were an outsider looking in.

Price let out a low groan as he leaned back in his chair and extended a leg, making himself comfortable like this was his home. “So...” He was looking directly at you. “What’s your appraisal of Simon’s condition. Think he’ll be ready to return to work anytime soon?” He asked.

‘What the fuck am I, his spouse?’ You thought to himself. ‘Or a fucking doctor?’

“Might be good to get him back to work, he’s cantankerous on the best of days.” You huff, shoving several chips into your mouth and chewing.

“So... he’s Ghost...” Gaz mutters, furrowing his brow.

“I swear, mate... keep this up and I’ll throw yer ass out.” Ghost said, actually annoyed at this point. “Ganged up on in my own damn flat.” He growled.

“I’m sorry if –” You started.

Price held up a hand to stop you. “Seems you’re the only one Simon actually listens to. We’re grateful.” He reassured you. “But go on, tell us what you think.”

You gave a shrug, taking another bite of your burger and eating slowly. On one hand, you wanted to make Ghost happy and send him back to work, but you couldn’t stop wondering if he was really ready to return to duty. Or maybe... you just didn’t want this to end. It was nice to always have someone around, even if Ghost walked like his name implied. ‘Gotta put a bell on that fucker.’ You thought with a smirk.

“I don’t know fuck all about military service, but I think, at the very least, he could return to light duties.” You finally managed to confess.

Ghost shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His return to duty hinging on a civilian babysitter.

Price just sat there nodding and caressing his mutton chops.

“I mean... he hasn’t had much opportunity to train, being cooped up in this flat.” You continued. “I think he needs to go back to hitting the gym and adjusting to being back on base and being more regimented... he’s getting a bit... lethargic.” You smirked, casting him a coy look.

“Oh fuck off. You make it sound like I gained two stone and sleep all day.” Ghost grunted. He kicked you foot with his under the table, but there was no edge to either his words, or the kick.

Ghost looked to Price, “You gonna ask Soap his opinion next?” He fired at the man, though his irritation blatantly clear this time. “Speaking of which, where is that idiot Scot?” He inquired.

Price gave Gaz a look, then they both looked at you, then to Ghost.

“I can leave.” You said, starting to stand up.

“No, no... sit back down mate.” Price waved you back into your seat. “Ghost is on leave anyway, so he’s not privy to the details either.” He explained.

“All we can say is that he’s on a recon mission.” Gaz said, his fingers playing at the base of his beer.

“He’ll be back in a couple days. Said he’ll stop by and see ya, then.” Price continued.

“Oh, lovely. Then I’ll have my babysitter and a puppy on my arse.” Ghost let out a throaty chuckle.

You got a little bold, and a bit annoyed by Ghosts incessant need to beat his chest in front of his mates. “Didn’t seem to mind this babysitter sleeping beside you the last few nights.” you said in the most casual, nonchalant tone you could muster. You took a very long swig of beer and just stared the man down.

Price and Gaz stared into the distance for a minute as their minds processed this new information, a mischievous look stirring in their eyes at the revelation.

“Oh you prick.” Ghost began, his body tensing in his seat.

Price arched a brow. "Sharing the bed, eh? Well, well, Simon… didn’t peg you as the cuddly type."

Gaz snorted, “Is it still pegging if its two lads?” he threw into the mix, “...and tell me, does the mask come off for sleepy time?”

Ghost stood up so fast his chair screeched on the floor before toppling over. “Fuck the lot of you.” He hissed, grabbing he beer and making his way to the balcony for a smoke.

“You the big spoon or little spoon?” Price called to him, his chest and shoulders heaving with amusement.

The balcony door opened with a loud slam as the metal connected with the frame, and then was shut with equal enthusiasm.

“Shit... I think I took it too far.” Your voice shook a little. Ghost actually seemed really pissed off this time.

Gaz was shaking his head, “No need to worry about it, mate.” he said with confidence. It was hard to not believe those pretty brown eyes as they stared at you.

“Yeah... if Simon were truly mad at any of us,” Price scratched at his beard, “We’d have been kicked out. The man would have made us leave his space, not stomp off to the balcony for a smoke.”

“Its true that Ghost isn’t used to being on the receiving end of shit-talking,” Gaz continued for them both, “And he’ll never admit it... but he likes being put in his place a bit. He likes being challenged and stumped. And I think he likes you being the one to do it.” There was a smirk tugging at Gaz’s lips. “Only you and Soap seem to have that affect on him, but I think it means more from you because you’re civilian. He doesn’t expect you to have the same ability to banter like his superiors and subordinates.”

Price was still nodding. He inhaled deeply and let it out just as slowly.

“I think he’s just grappling with the fact that you’re family now.” Price finally said. “He’s struggling because he’s no longer alone. He has the one-four-one, and now you. And we’ve all accepted you as a part of the group... like we do all partners and spouses.”

Your heart thumped in your chest and you felt the heat rising in your face. You turned a few shades of red before Price realized what he had said.

“I just mean that we accept anyone who is close to one of our teammates. Simon doesn’t have partners or a spouse, but you the damned closest thing he’s had for as long as I’ve known him.”

That didn’t stave off your feeling of embarrassment, not entirely. You couldn’t deny that, even as grumpy and prickly as the man was, you were attracted to him. Underneath all that armour, both real and emotional, was a good man just wanting to do the right thing.

“That being said... you’ve been sleeping together?”

The change in conversation was like whiplash to you and you found yourself slinking down into your seat again, amusing both Price and Gaz.

“Its not what you think!” You barked.

It didn’t deter either man from eyeing you down, waiting for you to crack like an egg and spill any details.

“He was having a hard time sleeping! Partly due to the wound, partly due to some nightmares he had.” You explained, trying to keep a bit of Ghosts privacy.

“Nightmares?” The question was asked a bit too curiously by Price.

“Seemed to happen when he was more medicated.” Your stomach turned. It was a bit of a fib since it only happened twice, but you didn’t want to dig Ghost a grave.

“When was the last one?” Price continued the interrogation.

You sucked in a breath and held it. Your brain worked to think when the last time he had a nightmare actually was. “Uh...” You muttered. “Its... actually been a while. Maybe two weeks ago?” At least that was the truth.

Price stood up slowly, groaning a bit as his knees popped. “Gonna go have a cigar on the balcony with our boy.”

Price gave his back a stretch before meandering his way to the balcony.

“I hope I didn’t fuck something up...” You practically whispered to Gaz.

He shook his head. “Nah, if anything, you’ve helped Ghosts case in Prices eyes.” His voice was surprisingly soothing. “You just told Price that Ghost is comfortable enough with and around you, to let you be next to him in his most vulnerable state. You make him feel safe, even if the way he shows it is by being a slag.” He snorted. “So... when are you two gonna consummate your relationship?” He winked.

“Fuck off, Gaz.” You laughed in reply.

“That’s the spirit!” He continued to tease, patting you on the shoulder. “See? You’re one of us. But seriously, mate... you’re good for Ghost. We’re happy to have you around almost as much as he is.”

You sat there and gave a meek smile. Its not that you disagreed, it was just hard to wrap your mind that you of all people had wedged yourself between Ghosts armour and his heart.

...and maybe there was a few lingering thoughts about consummation. Who wouldn’t want a big man like him under them?

“Join us for a smoke?” Gaz asked, snapping you back to reality.

You shake your head, “Don’t smoke.”

“Good lad.” He tapped the table and gave you another warm smile before standing. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and made his way to the balcony. “Enjoy the rest of your burger. We’ll be back in a few. Girl talk... you understand.” He joked.

‘Girl talk. Fucking idiots.’ You shook your head and went back to your meal.

[queerism1969]

[hyunjin-amore]

Peter Parker x Top male reader -  A Steamy Encounter

Note: The content of this article is intended for mature audiences only.

Peter Parker, the amiable local Spider-Man, was drawn to the appearance of an enigmatic stranger in the busy metropolis of New York. This best-selling male reader had a magnetic quality that pulled Peter in like a moth to a flame. One fateful night, their paths intersected, and the sparks between them sparked an intense bond. Peter and the top male reader took comfort in one another's arms as the moonlit night enveloped the city in a gentle radiance.

As their bodies entwined, they danced with hunger and passion. Waves of ecstasy shot through their veins with each touch and kiss. They ventured into the depths of their mutual passions, and the air crackled with electricity. In the solitude of their private meeting, Peter found a previously unknown aspect of himself. When the M/N touched him, a long-dormant sensuality sprang to the surface, and he gave in to the seductive feelings that surrounded them.

They were both left speechless and wanting more as their bodies moved in perfect unison, creating a symphony of pleasure. Peter and the top male reader said their goodbyes as the evening came to an end, their hearts heaving from their newfound bond. Their meeting was a covert event that would live on in their memory for all eternity. The passion they shared would endure forever, serving as a constant reminder of the exciting possibilities that lie beyond the boundaries of desire, even though their paths may never meet again.

[mrmistopher]

Me, shaking a Magic 8 Ball: "Am I straight?"

Magic 8 Ball: [Yes]

*4 YEARS LATER*

Me, with a boyfriend: "Guess that 8 ball was wrong."

*9 YEARS LATER*

Me, a trans woman with a husband: "Goddamn it."

[jessica-leatherman]

Surreal short stories from the Fore Square book series. A sampling of stories told from different times and settings.

5th book to be published January 29,2024-Kansas Day. All books available on Amazon.

What happened to Rose Manleather and her sons?

Some things belong and others do not. Can you decide which or can you come to your own Double Cola Talk epiphany and get the answers?

A curious life’s journey of the character Rose Manleather, sorted and collected together in fragmented framed form. All for a reader to enjoy piecing back together through the Fore Square series of short stories, riddles, metaphors, language, codes, innuendos, humor and interpretation.

Our main character is dyslexic and her stories and journal are unedited. Are you smart enough to figure out wha shes telling you and solve the mystery?

More FREE surreal stories HIDDEN in writers Instagram ProFile jessica_leatherman

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello! I’ve recently fell in love with your blog again after not being on tumblr a while. Your writing scratches my brain in just the right way and reading your posts is all I’ve been doing to pass the time at my cubicle recently. One of my favorite niche tropes is when the two romantic rivals in a love triangle fall for each other instead of the person they were originally pining for. I was wondering if you would write a snippet based off of that prompt? super excited to see what you come up with if you do!!

"I said you can have her, if she wants you."

It was raining. A pathetic fallacy of rain. A spitting, upchuck of misery. Langston dragged a hand over his face, glancing up at the lack of retreating footsteps. Back out the rain. Back to the party. Back to her.

Nate stood awkwardly in the downpour, resembling nothing so much as a drowned cat - feline elegance turned into something sad and soggy.

"It's okay," Nate said. "I mean, if you really love her...I wouldn't want to get in the way."

Langston had thought he did. He'd been sure of it three months ago. But now...he studied Nate, heart thumping something stupid in his chest. He hadn't expected that.

"Seriously?"

Nate shrugged, wrapping his arms tight around himself to ward off the chill. He had nice arms. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, I don't want to be the consolation prize she has because you left."

"I don't think you're anyone's consolation prize," Langston scoffed, before he could stop himself. "I mean, look at you."

"...What?"

Langston coloured. "She'd be stupid not to pick you!"

Nate blinked.

"I mean - you always show up for her," Langston said, his throat feeling tight. "For anyone who needs you, actually. And your art is amazing, man. So, you're like ridiculously talented and handsome and actually a good guy." He shrugged, colour creeping up his face despite the chill as Nate stared at him. "I just mean - I get it."

He thought maybe he should start walking. Start running. Hadn't he left to get some air? To get away? To maybe not picture the two of them kissing?

He hadn't expected Nate to be the one chasing after him. Not that he'd expected her to, but...

Well. After all the chasing he'd done, maybe it would have been nice. Maybe it could have meant something. Instead, it hurt to even think about her name.

"Do you want to go grab a drink?" Nate asked.

"...what?"

"Bloody tragic out here," Nate said. He swept over, patting Langston's shoulder as he passed. "C'mon."

Dumbly, Langston followed.

They ended up at the local a few streets away, ensconced in a cosy booth with two beers and the central heating on full blast.

"Honestly," Nate said. "She's kind of pissing me off in how she's treating you. Us."

It wasn't the opener that Langston expected. He raised his brows.

"I mean, it's not really fair, is it?" Nate pressed. "The way she's been jerking us around? Pitting us against each other?"

"It didn't feel...great," Langston allowed.

He'd thought, two months ago, when he first felt things beginning to shift beneath him, that if she really loved either of them that she would have made a choice. Better to let down one of them, right? But every time he thought she'd chosen, suddenly it felt like she was in the middle again. It was driving him bananas.

Then, the more he'd seen of Nate, of how hard he'd tried to be good enough for her, the more he'd realised that actually Nate was fantastic.

"We deserve to feel great about ourselves, right?" Nate exclaimed. His conviction was a little infectious, so Langston nodded. "Because, you know, you're a great guy too." Nate nudged his foot under the table. "You're so smart. Funny. And, you know, you show up too."

"It's what you do when you care about someone," Langston mumbled.

"Right!" Nate said.

It struck Langston, suddenly, that Nate really was there. He'd left the party for him without a second glance.

"Thanks," he said.

"I wasn't going to leave you out in the rain like a kicked puppy, mate." Nate held his beer up to clink. Langston did and took a swig. "Cute as you are," Nate added.

Langston promptly choked on his beer, coughing.

Nate grinned. "Cheers."

"Bastard."

Nate laughed. His eyes shone. He continued to study Langston for a beat after his laugh faded, his head tilted to the side.

"So, just putting this out there," Nate said. "But you know I'm bi, right?"

"I..." Langston felt a little lightheaded. "I did know that, actually, yeah."

She had come to him about it when she found out. He'd already started noticing Nate at that point, but figured it was only because the other man was his rival or some such. Then she'd told him that and it was like his whole world tipped sideways into crisis mode. He'd catch himself watching Nate wrap an arm around her shoulders, and feel something burn in his chest, and have the slowly dawning realisation that he wasn't sure which of them he was jealous of.

"Cool," Nate said.

They talked, for a while, as they drank their beers. About her, but about other things too. Langston slowly felt the crushing weight of the party ease, felt himself relax into Nate's company in a way he'd never fully done into hers by the end. He'd always felt like he had to prove something.

"You really would be a very good boyfriend," Langston said. "I've been thinking about that a lot, this last month or so."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm."

"I was very impressed by the time you fixed her car. I'm useless at that." Nate's gaze roamed over him. His voice lowered, soft. "You as good with anything else as you are with your hands? I've been wondering."

Langston swallowed. "You've been wondering?"

Their eyes locked across the table.

Nate was at full force, now, without the rain. Smirk. Teasing eyes to make you want to die. His hair had dried with the most adorable damn curl. Langston wanted to touch it. He couldn't even blame the beer. He wasn't entirely sure he could blame heartache either, because his insides were fizzing.

He wasn't sure which of them leaned in. It was not the most romantic of first kisses. It felt good though.

He dragged his thumb along the curve of Nate's face and watched the other man shiver.

"I've definitely been wondering about that," Nate said, low.

"We're not going back to the party, are we?"

They were not going back to her, were they?

"No," Nate said. "I definitely shouldn't think so."

Langston leaned in to kiss him again.

[sorynsshorts]

Daddy's packing a lot more than his clothes.

[bagerfluff]

Sweater

Set in season three or four - Will Byers x Male reader

Prompt - Stealing/borrowing Clothes

‘Were the fuck is my sweater’ Y/n thought as he looked in his closet for his sweater. He meant to meet up with his boyfriend but he couldn't without his sweater. It was the beginning of December so it wasn’t really cold but he still needed it. It was his favorite sweater, it was yellow with light gray accents.

Y/n could wear his hoodie, but he had worn it for the past week, and he didn’t feel like freezing. Y/n already looked in his closet, around his room, and in the laundry, but he couldn't find it anywhere. “What the fuck” Y/n said out loud as he closed the closet and looked around his room once more.

As he looked around the room, Y/n glanced at the clock that hung above his door and realized that if he kept looking for his sweater, he would be late. Y/n’s eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed a hoodie that was resting on his desk chair and left. “Bye G/n” Y/n yelled as he popped on his shoes and ran up the door.

As soon as Y/n got out the door, he ran over to his bike, got on it, and rode off to the park. That place he and Will agreed to meet. Y/n loved riding his bike. The feeling of the wind blowing through his h/l h/c hair, the adrenaline that came from riding as fast as he could so he could see his boyfriend.

Y/n smiled at the thought of seeing his boyfriend. They had only been dating for a couple of months, but those months had been the best months of Y/n’s life. Will was the sweetest boy he had ever met. Y/n found everything about the boy cute, to his bowl cut, warm brown eyes, short stature, and short shorts.

Y/n was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized that he had arrived at the park. Y/n got off his bike and ran to the swing set where Will said he would be. As soon as the swing set and Will got in Y/n’s sight, his jaw dropped because of what he saw. Will was sitting on one of the swings, lightly swinging back and forth.

His shorts were switched out for some pants, and he was wearing a beanie that made him ten times cuter. But what really caught Y/n’s attention was what he was wearing on the top part of his body. It was a sweater, his sweater. The same sweater that he had ‘lost’. The same sweater that was yellow with light gray accents.

It was big on Will, so it fell over his waist a bit and covered his hands, but holy shit Will looked adorable. Y/n smiled as he walked over to Will. “Hey love” He said as he was close enough. Will jumped a bit and looked over to his left, smiling as he saw his boyfriend.

“Hey” Will said softly. Y/n leaned on the frame of the swing set, and his loving smile turned to one of the teases. “Is that my sweater” Y/n asked, but it didn’t really sound like a question. Will’s face turned red, and he looked down at the ground.

“No” he said so quietly that Y/n almost didn’t hear him. “Really” Y/n said teasingly as he walked in front of Will, who had stopped moving, and clasped his hands on the swings chains over Will’s. Y/n now was looking down at Will with a sly smile.

“Because that looks like the sweater I was looking for”. At that, Will looked up at Y/n. “sorry” he started looking down at the ground again. “You left it at my house a couple of days ago and I wanted to wear it”. Y/n smiled at Will, a smile now full of love. “It’s fine love” Y/n said as he took one of his hands off the chain and used it to tilt Will’s head up.

“You can always wear my clothes, but only if you always look this cute in them” Y/n said right before kissing Will. And it was true. Will could always wear Y/n’s clothes, especially if he looked cute in them.