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whiskey-tango-matcha · 1 month

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Then & Now (M, cold)

Hiii, hope you like A LOT of hurt followed by 2-3 sentences of comfort lmao. This is Greyson fic - Grey is sick on a day he and Reed are supposed to have a date, and he's sure Reed is going to be angry with him because Trauma(TM). It's told in a flashback sort of format which I really enjoyed because I love writing blurbs of colds at different times in life lol. I hope you guys like it, please let me know what ya think, good, bad, or otherwise :)

CW: Male snz, cold, pneumonia mention, coughing, contagion mention, lots and lots of whump lmao. A little over 4K words under the cut.

Then & Now

Now

“Morning, Chef.”

“Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!”

Elijah turned towards Greyson, who was doubled over into his hoodie sleeve, and gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Cooks finally pulled you under, hmm?”

“Ugh, like way fuckin’ under,” Greyson muttered, rubbing his eye and sucking in through his nose. “I feel like ass.”

“Sorry, dude,” Elijah said, tossing his counterpart a box of tissues. “Sucks.”

Greyson caught the box and pulled out a few just in time. “HITSZHZH-uhh!” This one, he managed to catch in the handful of tissues. He wiped his nose and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, tossing the used tissues. “Mbostly because I was supposed to have a date tonight.”

Elijah smirked at his friend, who was pushing past the GM into their shared office. The two of them sat in unison. “Do you guys still call them dates? You’ve been official for, like, six months.”

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Greyson said, his voice flattened by congestion. “We were going to do EMP.”

“Awww, now I’m depressed,” Elijah said. “Also, why didn’t you tell me earlier you were going to Eleven Madison? I still know people there.”

“So does Reed,” Greyson said, massaging his temple. “That’s why we were goigg. Fuck, mby fuckin’ head is pounding. Do we have any -?”

Elijah placed the ibuprofen in front of the chef before he could ask, along with a bottle of cough syrup and a decongestant. “You know we have it all,” he said, pushing an old cup of water across the desk for Greyson to swallow his arsenal of pills. “And fair enough. Well that fuckin’ sucks, dude, I’m sorry. Hey, at least you can leave early, right? Matt’s closing?”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a cough drop and popping it in his mouth. “I’ll head out once the rush is over. I still have to text Reee – hh...hhNTSHH-ue! HGTSHH-uhh!” Greyson doubled over, sneezed into his arm, and groaned. “I’mb gonna kill the guys when they get in,” he said, mostly to himself.

“Don’t do that,” Elijah said, placing a hand on Greyson’s shoulder on his way out of the office. “Then you’ll have to stay all night.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh and pulled out his phone. He clicked on his conversation with Reed, sighing. He did not want to have this conversation.

Greyson

9:31AM

hey babe. gonna have to cancel tonight, the cooks infected me w their plague :( im rly sorry.

The chef set his phone on the desk, prepared to either be ghosted or gaslit – two of Collin’s favorite pastimes whenever Greyson had had to cancel their plans during their relationship – and was shocked when the phone buzzed with a text almost immediately. He was almost afraid to look at his boyfriend’s response.

Reed

9:32AM

Oh, baby don’t be sorry!! what time are you off? I’ll pick you up and take you home :) we can do a sick day little date night instead!

Greyson stared at the phone, stunned. He couldn’t help it; he read the message again, then out loud said, “What the fuck?”

Then – Ten Years Ago

“Chef?”

The Executive Chef looked up from his paperwork at Greyson and sighed. “What is it, Abbott?”

“I, um – hh! HTSHH-uh! HGXTSH-ue! Snf. Umb, I just wanted to see if it was okay if I… left a little early today?” Greyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His chef raised his eyebrows and put his clipboard down. Oh, no, Greyson thought.

“Leave...early? And leave your clean up and prep to whom, exactly? Me?” The Executive Chef huffed out a laugh. “That’s rich, Abbott. Why the fuck would you need to leave early?”

“I…” Greyson started, but his voice gave out on the single syllable. He attempted to clear his throat. “I just… I really feel like shit? I was hoping I could, like… sleep it off, I guess. I mbean, I wouldn’t want to get anyone else sigck.” Greyson felt a cough bubbling to the surface; he tried to quell it, to no avail. The younger man collapsed into a coughing fit that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

The Chef remained unmoved. “My guys,” he said, placing a hand on his chest as Greyson attempted to compose himself, “don’t get sick, Abbott. And if they do, I don’t fucking hear about it. Understand? Because I really don’t give a shit. If you’re here, you’re here. If you decide to leave early,” he shrugged, uncaring, “then you leave for good. And Abbott, if you try to get a job after walking out of my kitchen, I promise you I will make it impossible. I know you’ve only been here a couple months, but here’s what you need to learn: put your head down and do your fucking job, and you can work anywhere in the world after this. Be a whiny piece of shit who tries to walk out on his shift, and you’ll be working at McDonald’s for the rest of you life. Got it?”

Greyson, too shocked to rebut, just bobbed his head up and down.

“Let me hear you say it,” the Chef said. Greyson cleared his throat.

“Yes, Chef,” he said. The Chef nodded.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Now

“Elijah. Look at this text.”

The GM looked up slowly from the iPad where he was going over reservations for the evening. “...Why?” he asked, taking the phone from Greyson’s hand.

“Just look. Tell mbe that’s ndot weird,” Greyson said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elijah looked down, confused, and read the text. He pinched his eyebrows together just a little, and read it again. “See? Isn’t that weird?”

“Greyson…” Elijah said, handing the phone back. “That’s not weird.”

“Seriously?” Greyson asked, reading the text yet again. “It’s bizarre. He’s ndot even a little mad? C’mon. That’s weird.”

“He’s being sweet,” Elijah explained, slowly, as though he were talking to a toddler. “Did you want him to be mad? Because that’s bizarre.”

“Ndo I don’t want him to be mad. I jus – HTSZHH-ue! HRRSHH!” Greyson wrenched to the side to sneeze, which sent him into a fit of hacking coughs. “I just figured he’d want to, like, yell at mbe or something. For canceling,” Greyson finished, his voice strained against another cough. Elijah didn’t respond, not at first, and instead pressed a hand onto the chef’s forehead.

“I think you’re sicker than we thought, because you’re acting fucking delusional,” he said as Greyson slapped his hand away. “Greyson, normal people don’t yell at each other for getting sick, or having to cancel a plan. That’s, like, really twisted.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “It’s ndot twisted, Lij you fuckin’ drama queen,” he said, then held up a finger. “Onesec – hh! Hh...hnn.” Greyson sniffled, a let out a little irritated cough. “Lost it.”

“Go back to the kitchen,” Elijah said, pointing towards the swinging doors. “Sit down. Rest. Let your medicine kick in. I don’t want people seeing this -” he gestured to Greyson, as if to allude to his entire being – “when they walk past the restaurant. Alright? Text your boyfriend something nice. Not something unhinged.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Greyson muttered, turning toward the kitchen, his phone still open to the conversation with Reed. He turned towards Elijah again before pushing through the kitchen doors. “I still say that this is the unhinged thing.”

“Go to therapy, Greyson,” Elijah said, not looking up from the iPad. Greyson rolled his eyes, pushed into the kitchen, and regarded his phone once again.

Greyson

10:07AM

thanks, babe. it’s ok, I can take care of myself. it wont be a long day, ill just grab some nyquil omw home and sleep it off. ill reschedule our rezo too, don’t worry about that. im really sorry again for canceling. if I could taste the food id still go lol.

Figuring that sounded at least relatively normal, Greyson hit send. He sat down at his desk once again and placed his head in his hands. No way he’s not pissed, Greyson thought, and he really believed it. In all his years of dating, he’d never met anyone who would respond that way; they’d at least have a snippy remark about the last-minute nature of the cancellation.

Greyson’s phone pinged once again, and he couldn’t help but grab it right away to assess the damage.

Reed

10:08AM

honey, please don’t apologize, seriously. youre sick, it happens, its no biggie :) I already moved the reservation to next week but if we need to ill move it again. james at emp said to tell you feel better btw.

Greyson blinked, dumbstruck. He started typing without thinking.

Greyson

10:10AM

you REALLY arent mad? seriously?

Reed

10:10AM

im really not mad. who gets mad at someone for being sick…? is someone at work mad at you? am I supposed to be mad..? lol

Greyson

10:11AM

I mean its a last minute cancellation. id understand if u were mad.

Reed

10:11AM

welllll….im not. is that ok? haha

Reed

10:15AM

grey…? you believe me, right?

Reed

10:21AM

greyson..?

Then – Seven Years Ago

He was moving through molasses.

Greyson placed a sluggish hand to his own forehead – you can’t check yourself for a fever, dumbass – and blinked painfully. He’d made it to work, he’d made it through the day, and he’d made it back home, against all odds. Now, he was stuck on his couch, unable to even crawl to the bathroom for a thermometer.

It had all compounded on him, was his guess. The endless fourteen hour days for the better part of two years at his thankless sous chef job. The shitty Chicago-suburbs apartment with no heat, where he froze for the few hours a week he slept. The near-constant drinking. Sure, he was only twenty-five, but what was it they said about this industry? It ages you in dog years. Yeah, that was it.

“Hh-! Hh...ITSZHH-ue! HTSHHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed helplessly into the blanket he’d wrapped around himself, and groaned. This was not what he’d imagined when he moved here from Minnesota. He’d thought it would be glamorous, working as a sous chef at a high-end hotel in a big city. He thought he’d have friends, or a girlfriend, or something. Instead, he was trapped on his couch, benched by a sinus infection and seasonal depression that seemed to last the whole year round. Fuck this, Greyson thought. He couldn’t get off the couch, but he could reach his phone; Greyson pulled up Indeed and changed his search parameters.

Actively searching for work. Location: Any.

Now

“Um… Chef? What’s, uh… what’s going on?”

Greyson paused for a moment, a crate of spoiled food held on his shoulder. He turned towards Matt, keen to answer, but instead held the crate tighter and wrenched to the side. “HRTTSHH-uh!”

“Bless you,” Matt said, an automatic reaction. Greyson nodded, turned towards the dumpster, and dumped the food in before beginning the cycle anew: pick up crate. Turn to sneeze. Dump old food. Matt wasn’t sure if he should help his boss, or go inside for backup.

He chose the former, picking a crate filled to the brim with rotten tomatoes off the ground and hoisting it into the trash. “You gonna tell me what’s up?” he asked as the two of them continued gathering and tossing.

Greyson sighed, pulled a hand down his face, and shook his head. “I thingk Reed and I are over,” he said, voice soft and throaty. Matt’s eyebrows shot up.

“What? Seriously? What did you do?” Matt asked, prompting a stuffy laugh from his boss.

“I just don’t thingk it’s going to work,” Greyson said, shrugging. “I… I don’t want to, like, play gambes. I can’t do that again, ndot after Collin.”

“Chef,” Matt said as he gathered and tossed the last milk crate, “what are you talking about? Reed is, like, the most straight-shooting guy I’ve ever met. How is he playing games?”

Greyson, left without anything to occupy his hands, just shrugged and pulled out his phone. He handed it to Matt without explanation, and the sous quickly read through the text conversation Greyson and Reed had going. Matt furrowed his brow.

“I don’t get it,” he said, handing the phone back. “He wants to take care of you, what’s the problem with that?”

“He doesn’t want to take care of me, he wants to have the upper hand,” Greyson explained, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sitting on the step just outside the back door. “Want one?”

“Sure,” Matt said, sitting beside his boss. “I mean, you shouldn’t be smoking if you’re -”

“HTSHH! Hh-! ITZSHH-ue!” Greyson turned into his elbow, taking a long moment to gather himself before handing Matt his cigarette.

“-sick,” Matt finished. The older man shrugged, and Matt plucked the lighter out of Greyson’s hand to light both of them up, not daring to push his boss any closer to the edge. For a moment, they smoked in silence, only Greyson’s sniffles and coughs interrupting the quiet.

“Boss,” Matt said, finally, “I think you need to talk to Reed.”

“I did,” Greyson said, stubbing out his cigarette. “You saw.”

“No, I mean actually talk to him,” Matt said. The two of them stood, looking at each other – a face-off without the malice. Matt continued. “Not ignore his texts and clean out the walk-in.”

Greyson scoffed. “Matt, just because you have sombe fairy-tale love story doesn’t mbean everyone else does, too. Okay? If it’s over between me and Reed, it’s fine. I’mb better off alone, anywaa – hh! Hh… Hhhii-!” Greyson stood with his elbow poised at his face, stuck in pre-sneeze agony for what seemed like an eternity. While he was incapacitated, Matt took his phone and typed out a message that his boss couldn’t see. Finally, Greyson lowered his arm and sucked in, fruitlessly, through his nose. “The fugck are you doigg?” he asked, snatching his phone back from his sous.

“If you’re not going to talk to Reed,” Matt shrugged, unapologetic, “I will.”

Greyson looked down at his phone, which buzzed twice in his hand. Reed’s face popped up on the screen. Call from: reed <3

Then – Three Years Ago

“HTSHH! Huh! ETZSHH-ue! HRTTSHH-ue!”

“Bless, bless, bless you. Allergies?” Collin asked, not looking up from his phone. Greyson sniffled in vain, and coughed painfully.

“Ndot exactly,” he croaked from the doorway to Collin’s living room. “Baby, do you thingk you could drive mbe to urdent care, actually?”

Collin looked up and slowly raised an eyebrow. “For what?” he asked, obviously annoyed. Greyson swallowed as best he could and placed a hand on his throat.

“I thingk… I mbight have strep. Or bronchitis, or sombething. I, uh… I’ve had a fever for like. A week.” Greyson had to stop to close his eyes and grab onto the door frame, a sordid attempt to keep from hitting the floor like a rotten sack of potatoes. Collin rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a drama queen. You seemed fine when you came over last night.”

“You were asleep whend I came over,” Greyson said, his eyes still closed. “Did you ndot notice that I haven’t been over in like five days?”

Collin shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but I figured you were busy with work. You’re always busy with work,” he said, the venom in his voice making clear that he wanted to fight.

Greyson, physically incapable of fighting at that moment, just slid slowly to the ground and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said. “Ndow I’m paying the price. Please, baby. Can you please just take me? I… I really don’t feel well.”

It was pathetic. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself; he was fairly sure he was moments from passing out. Collin turned and made himself comfier on the couch.

“I’ll call you an uber,” he said, pressing some buttons on his phone. “You barely make time for me, and now you’re asking me to be your chauffeur? Please, Greyson.” He showed his ailing boyfriend the phone. “He’ll be out front in five minutes. Better make your way down.”

“Okay,” Greyson said, pulling himself slowly to his feet. “Thangk you.”

Collin didn’t say a word as Greyson let himself out of the apartment. He made it downstairs, and into the uber, and into the waiting room at urgent care. He made it out by himself, too, with a laundry list of prognoses – strep, sinus infection, walking pneumonia – and a handful of prescriptions. When he texted Collin later to fill him in, his boyfriend didn’t text back.

Greyson fell asleep on his shower floor and awoke to freezing water pounding on him, and a courier pounding on his door. When he toweled off and answered it, chicken soup from the local bodega and a note that read feel better -c sat at his feet. Greyson breathed a sigh of relief; at least he had been forgiven.

Now

Reed had dated plenty of men is his thirty-five years of life, and had found that there were two general categories when it came to sick men: there was the Baby, and there was the Don’t Look at Me.

Greyson though, an enigma since the moment they met, seemed to fall into a third category, a category that was, to Reed, yet undiscovered: the You Hate Me.

Reed was good with the first two categories; the Don’t Look at Me, you left medicine outside their room and texted them funny memes. The Baby, you laid in bed with them and spoon-fed them soup. Easy. Understandable. Truthfully, this was one of his favorite things about men: they were easy to crack. He figured Greyson would likely fall into the Baby category, which was fine by him – there was nothing he’d like more than to look after an ailing Greyson, to be honest. This third category he seemed to embody, though, was not something Reed knew what to do with.

“He didn’t answer when I called him,” Reed said into the phone receiver. “I just want to know what’s going on, I mean, did I say something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, Elijah sighed. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is just… it’s just Greyson being Greyson.”

Reed wasn’t about to take this lying down. “Hey, are you guys super busy tonight? I mean, I don’t want to be that boyfriend, but, like, can I come get him? We really need to talk, and if what Matt said is true he probably shouldn’t be, like, working anyway, right?”

While Elijah paused, Reed pulled the phone away from his ear and once again re-read the text Matt had sent from Greyson’s phone: hey reed, it’s matt. grey is sick as hell, so DO NOT take any of the crazy weird shit he says seriously, k? his temperature needs to lower by like 5 degrees before you do this, but u guys need to actually talk. he’s being stupid.

“Please,” Reed heard Elijah’s tinny voice on the other end and put the phone back to his ear. “Please, come and collect him. I’m begging.”

Reed stood from the couch and grabbed his keys. “Give me twenty minutes. I’m on my way.”

Then – Two Years Ago

“Heyyy, baby, cand I buy you a dringk?”

The girl leaned back, her face marked by disgust. “No, thanks. Save your money and get yourself some NyQuil,” she said, disappearing into the crowd. Greyson huffed out a sigh and coughed into his hand – a long, crackling sound that made the other bar patrons inch their chairs away.

“She’s right, you know,” the bartender – Skip, Greyson had learned his name was a few weeks back when he had started coming in every night – said, filling Greyson’s shot glass yet again. “You need to go home.”

“And yet you pour mbe another drink,” Greyson said, knocking back the shot. “The duality of mban. NGTXSH! HTSHH! Huh-! HRRSHH-ue!” Greyson covered his mouth lazily with one hand, wiped it on his pants, hand held the glass up to indicate ‘another’.

“Bless you,” Skip said, not pouring the shot. “Greyson, seriously: go home. You sound fucking awful.”

“Are you cutting mbe off?” Greyson asked, his rheumy eyes meeting Skip’s over the bartop. “Because unless you are, I’mb staying.” He coughed again, into his elbow; the cough was quickly becoming a problem. He’d had a cold two weeks ago; the symptoms had been mild, but the cough had hung around. When he caught whatever-the-fuck this was two days ago, the cough had turned from an annoyance to a pressing issue; he should go home. He should go to the doctor, he should take a day off, he should, he should, he should.

But he wouldn’t. He would stay, and he would drink until he was kicked out, then he’d pass out on the train and not make it home to sleep. He’d go to work at seven AM and stay until midnight and do it all again.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Skip sighed. “I’m just saying… you should take care of yourself.”

Greyson blinked slowly. He could feel his lungs, heavy with fluid, gearing up to cough again; his head, pounding in spite or because of the alcohol; his heart crushed into a million, Collin-sized pieces. Take care of yourself. It felt impossible, when you’d never been shown how.

“This is mbe taking care of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll have another.”

Now

Greyson rested his head on a case of lettuce in the corner of the walk-in. He knew he should be continuing his madness of cleaning, but he’d accidentally sat down on his fifth trip into the refrigerator, and now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up again.

Fucking Reed, Greyson thought as he allowed the cold salad box to sate the fever he had burning in his brain. Why can’t he just be up front with me? If you’re mad just say it, don’t fucking torture me.

Perhaps deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous; Matt and Elijah were most likely correct. The simplest answer – that Reed truly was just a good guy – was probably the right one. But he just couldn’t get out of his mind all the times he’d reached out, needed help and asked for it, and been shot down. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to believe that the person he was dating was truly good; he knew he’d never deserve that.

“Greyson?”

Speaking of Reed, that sounded a lot like him – was Greyson hearing things? Had he, in his fever-addled state, conjured a hallucination of his boyfriend to have a fight with? Bizarre, Grey, he thought to himself. That’s really fucking bizarre.

“Grey? Elijah said you were in here but I don’t – oh!”

Either this was a really crazy hallucination, or that really was Reed standing over him, in the walk-in. Greyson blinked hard, then blinked again, and suddenly Reed was on the ground next to him.

“Babe...it’s really cold in here. Do you think we can, um, leave?”

Greyson furrowed his eyebrows together. “Leave… and go where?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I have to… work. What are you doigg heeee...HRTSHH-ue! Huh -! HTSHH! NTSHH! IGXTSH!” Greyson attempted to stifle over and over, until Reed gently took his hand and pulled it away from his face.

“That has to hurt,” Reed said, his voice quiet and calm. “You can just… sneeze, you know. Like, regular.”

“Tryigg ndot to get you,” Greyson croaked, his eyes glazing over once again. “Youbettermov – HRRETSZCHH-ue! ITSZZHH-ue! Fuck – NGTSHHZ-ue!” Greyson sneezed into his lap, then coughed until his lungs felt sore. Reed didn’t move; he came closer and rubbed Greyson’s back.

“Bless you, baby,” Reed said, eventually.

“Thangks. Sorry,” Greyson murmured, pushing his hair out of his face and turning to look at Reed. “Why are you here?” he asked, levity out the window.

Reed let out a little laugh. “Umm, why do you think?” he asked. “You’ve been ignoring me since this morning. I got worried, since Matt said you were super sick – no lie detected, by the way, you sound truly awful –”

“Sorry,” Greyson said again, wiping under his nose. “I kndow, it’s gross.”

“Please, Grey,” Reed said, taking both sides of his boyfriend’s face in his hands and looking him in the eye. “Please. Stop apologizing. It’s okay to be sick. I don’t understand why you think I’m angry at you. I’m not.”

Greyson swallowed, painfully, and gave a little nod. “Okay,” he said, finally.

“Okay,” Reed repeated. “Anyway. I called Elijah. He said to come and collect you.”

At this, Greyson couldn’t help but cough out a laugh. “Collect mbe?” he asked. Reed smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “His words, not mine.”

They both laughed, softly at first, then ramping up to near-hysteria. They only stopped when Greyson started coughing again and couldn’t seem to stop.

“Let’s go get you some water,” Reed said, helping his boyfriend to his shaky feet. Greyson allowed himself to be pulled out of the walk-in, and given a bottle of water that was sitting on his prep station. Greyson drank until the fit subsided, then regarded Reed once again.

“So… you really aren’t mbad?” he asked, rubbing his goosebumped arms up and down. Reed shook his head and shrugged off his windbreaker. He draped it over Greyson’s shoulders.

“I’m really not mad,” he insisted. Greyson nodded, seemingly satiated. Reed sighed through his nose and slipped his arms around the chef.

“Life’s done a number on you, huh?” he asked, quietly enough that it could’ve just been to himself. Greyson huffed out a sad little laugh.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, baby,” he murmured, pressing his hot head into Reed’s hair. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snzblr #snez #male cold #male snz #this was a fun one!#whump #h/c #but mostly hurt lol #i know it's a lot of dialogue. my apologies i just love to write dialogue and HATE to write exposition lol #which is Not Good Writing but whatever #this is my horn snz blog not my doctoral thesis lmao

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fyrapartnersearch · 6 years

Text

rEEE writers inbound

hey there! i’m rhys. i am 22, live in the ct, and love ooc chatter! my ooc is pretty lax, but i promise my writing is a helluva lot more formal. i write in third person, past/present tense, and paragraph form. im not a rapid-fire writer, and won’t be able to constantly get replies in every day (i can get responses in anywhere between every couple of days to a week or two). however, i will ALWAYS put tlc into all of my posts and characters! i write anywhere between 300-900 words. it’s definitely alright if you don’t feel up to that amount at any given point, but i do appreciate keeping it somewhere in this range. im very wordy, and can spew out a novel if im excited enough lmao

my limits are pretty general; i will not do beastiality, pedophilia, vore, or scat. i can indulge in a variety of kinks, but if it’s a little much for any average person, i’m less likely to write it out (i.e extreme ddlg or adult babies, furries, extreme pet play, etc.) but i can be persuaded to lightly touch on certain kinks as long as they’re not 10000% filth lmao i cannot, and will not, do seme/uke or top/bottom dynamics. absolutely not. queer relationships shouldn’t be defined by whose taking the D. i dont want to interact with squeamish little femboys, or awful macho men with downright rapey tendencies. versatility is key, and power struggles are what i live for! i will, however, indulge in BDSM dynamics with certain plots— although, domination isn’t always about penetration, you know?

give me characters with aspirations, hopes and dreams, and crushing past experiences that flesh them out into who they are. no one is perfect, and we all have things that rear their ugly heads in the dark. problematic characters, male or female or anything in between, are everything. i love lgbtq+ characters, as i am part of the community myself, and will almost always be more inclined in writing queer characters. not to say i won’t write for strictly straight pairings, m/f, but usually i am iffy when approached with it if i am just meeting you.

i write for all genders, ethnicity, and orientations! you can find a few writings examples of mine here. i am pretty welcoming of most things. smut, of course. some kink a little out there that you want to suggest? let's do it, dude. i am super OOC friendly and i am pretty much a garbled mess when i get to know you! i’m a social person— i feel like a burden if you’re not into chatting with me, so please, if you’re not looking to be both a writing partner as well as a friend, i might not be the gal for you. i am open to crooked relationships, ones that don't function right, dark/morally corrupt characters, unconditional love, etc. my interests fluctuate! i am down, 24/7, guys! i only roleplay over email, but will ooc chat over discord or hangouts! here's a list of fandoms and pairings below that i am looking to write for atm. i do have many more, but these are just the ones off the top of my head!

_________

Borderlands

Handsome Jack/Rhys

Handsome Jack/Rhys/Nisha

Life is Strange

Max Caulfield/Chloe Price

Max Caulfield/Kate Marsh/Victoria Chase

Nathan Prescott/Warren Graham

Rachel Amber/Chloe Price

Frank Bowers/Damon Merrick

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson

Dick Grayson/Wally West

Harley Quinn/Pamela Isley

Batman: Telltale Series

Bruce Wayne/John Doe

Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle

Bruce Wayne/Harvey Dent/Selina Kyle

Marvel

Stephen Strange/Tony Stark

Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson

Thor/Bruce Banner

Peter Parker/Harry Osborn

Peter Parker/Wade Wilson

Wade Wilson/Vanessa Carlysle

Gwen Stacy/Peter Parker/Harry Osborn

Peter Parker/Wade Wilson/Vanessa Carlysle

Uncharted

Nathan Drake/Samuel Drake

Nathan Drake/Harry Flynn

Chloe Frazer/Nadine Ross

TTGOT

Asher Forrester/Gwyn Whitehill

Rodrik Forrester/Arthur Glenmore

Mira Forrester/Margaery Tyrell

Gryff Whitehill/Elaena Glenmore

Gared Tuttle/Finn

Gared Tuttle/Josera Snow

The Walking Dead

Rick Grimes/Negan

TWDG

Javier Garcia/David Garcia

Clementine/Gabriel Garcia

Clementine/Louis

Clementine/Violet

Marlon/Louis

Javier Garcia/Paul “Jesus” Rovia

Far Cry (3-5)

Jason Brody/Vaas Montenegro

Jason Brody/Bambi “Buck” Hughes

Ajay Ghale/Pagan Min

Ajay Ghale/Sabal

Ajay Ghale/Sabal/Amita

Rook/Joseph Seed

Rook/John Seed

Rook/Faith Seed

Punisher

Frank Castle/David Lieberman

Frank Castle/Billy Russo

Mass Effect: Andromeda

Scott Ryder/Reyes Vidal

Scott Ryder/Gil Brodie

Scott Ryder/Peebee

Sara Ryder/Peebee

Sara Ryder/Vetra Nyx

Kill Your Darlings

Lucien Carr/Allen Ginsberg

____________

Onto original plots!

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Office romances/BDSM/Friends with benefits-turned-lovers

okay, so, i had this type of roleplay with someone a while back. maybe more than two or three years back that i fell out of contact with and i could never really get it out of my head because it was probably one of the best character-building stories i’ve ever taken part of. :’) i don’t remember their name, but i do hope they’ll contact me again if they ever see this. while some of this may seem specific, none of it is concrete and i promise i am very easy to get along with and very accomodating! the plot i remember had three different relationships— completely different people, with different lives and different worlds, with only one common thing between them being that they work in the same building. we can do all three, or we can do a few, or even one! i dont mind.

**pairing A; M/F preferred (lol i know broke my own rule, but i adore femdoms! extra: please come with an open mind. this is not a 50 shades AU, and i do not want it to be.) this one is between a CEO and an intern in their senior year of college. The CEO is a femdom, and freshly out of divorce, takes a liking to the clumsy intern who’d spilled coffee on her more than once. The intern has never been in a relationship with an older woman, let alone one running a multi-million dollar company, but hey, isn’t that the dream for some broke twenty-something down on his luck? She introduces him to BDSM, and while he’s hesitant, the idea is as exciting as it is frightening. He accepts her offer— while it’s difficult at times, he begins to learn more about her. Her ex-spouse, her young child, and her unwillingness to develop a sincere relationship with him. She’s had subs before, and while she tells him he isn’t disposable, he begins to feel it was the truth. He grows to have feelings for her, and while she isn’t too keen on admitting it, the feeling is mutual. I’d love to explore their dynamic in and out of sex, and the conflict between the intern and her ex-spouse. I love age gaps, and think it would be awesome to see them develop over time to find common ground to establish a personal relationship and trying to even out their power imbalances. I don’t mind playing either the CEO or the intern, but I am leaning more towards the CEO. :V**

**pairing B; M/M preferred (this one is waaay more gritty and more dub-con than anything so please beware!) this one is between two higher-ups who have been butting heads for years— and occasionally, sexual tension neither have acted on. A is a snarky, openly gay man, and probably what some would consider shallow and noncommittal. B is a brooding, closeted ‘by the book’ type well into his thirties, and refuses to engage in anything sexual with men despite his obvious attraction; B has younger siblings he takes care of as well as his mother, and being the oldest son and only provider, hasn’t done a thing for himself in twenty years. A lives completely alone, complete with a bachelor pad and, the influx of flings that went nowhere past sex, and has risen to the top with his own sheer will. they have conflicting motives, and while both of them have an intense hatred for each other, they’ve never engaged in physical altercations in fear of losing their jobs. one day, A jabs a little below the belt, and finally, B starts swinging. this fight turns into something way more heavy in the company parking lot. what happens between them in the long run is something desperate, needy, and longing for real affection. it began as a mindless need for sex, angry and mean and formal, with B being especially unwilling to ‘give up’ his masculinity and ever be on the receiving end in fear of losing the control he needs to keep this up. i’d love to see them begin to see each other in a different light, and changing each other for the better. i’d also love to see A showing B that sex doesn’t have to be meaningless, and that he doesn’t need to fear letting A be in control. And B showing A that commitment isn’t as terrifying as it may be, with them gradually going from rivals, to friends with benefits, and eventually lovers. i, again, don’t mind writing for either! **

**pairing C; F/F preferred. (aaa this pairing is way more fluffy and sweet, with hurt/comfort as a stable of their dynamic.) this one is between two small-office employees in the company. A is fairly tame at work in order to support her sibling(s), of which she has adopted from her father’s custody years ago. she is fairly confident with her sexuality, and while not being the type to frequent clubs, is dragged along by a few friends and there, meets B. B is a young woman who just recently got out of a relationship with an abusive ex fiance— B has only ever been with that man, and was never confident in exploring her sexuality due to a religious upbringing and parents who were dead set on traditional values. she’s never strayed from her ex, and while he wasn’t faithful or remotely good to her in return, she was heartbroken with their split. months after, he returns to the city and B’s close friends decide to take her out on a girls’ night to make her feel better— B coincidently sees her ex, and feeling childish and unattractive, heads off to the bar to get a drink. she’s nowhere near a drinker, and just before she does drown her sorrows, is hit on by A. while initially shocked, B is flustered and finds herself immediately attracted to A. they have a one-night stand, and while B believes that A would just leave in the morning, A instead lays with her until she wakes up, and leaves her number. B is too anxious to text her. they bump into each other at the elevator that Monday. they agree to be just friends, until B knows what she wants. A is willing to wait. B might have a crush, and A is intent on building B up to love herself and her body. i would overall prefer to write for A, but if you’re dead set, no prob!**

Serial killer/1960’s/Small town sheriff

no preferred pairing! would love, love, love to see something between a serial killer and a small town sheriff in the mid-to-late sixties. we could make up a new little town, or find one to our liking! A is the sheriff who had been born and raised in this town with a good home life, loving parents, and a steady moral compass, albeit trapped in a loveless marriage. they know everyone, and every nook and cranny of the place like the back of their hand. this is the type of place where people don’t have to lock their doors at night, or constantly watch their kids when they’re out in the yard playing. that is, until people start going missing and horrifyingly mutilated bodies began to pop up around town. B is a well-liked baker in town; known to be genuinely friendly and kind, B has a very corrupt past. both of their parents were heinously abusive, and as a child, B developed sociopathic tendencies. B was inherently spiteful of the town and the people in it, for leaving them to rot in hell for eighteen years, and for never reaching out. B formed a god complex, his intentions to ‘purify the corrupt’. they keep tabs on almost everyone in town, and the victims they do take are put in the soundproof basement of his home to be ‘baptized’; tortured, beaten, and mutilated beyond recognition. A and B are friendly with each other as A comes to the bakery every morning, with B’s motives completely unbeknownst. one night, A, frustrated and pissed from the dead ends of the case of the decade, decides to head to the bar and relax. B is the one face A didn’t mind seeing that night, and one thing lead to another, with A and B in a dark alley getting each other off— i definitely see this as B grooming A to be a complicit pet, and when A gets closer and closer to figuring out who the killer is, he forms a deep connection with B. B develops a possessiveness over A, along with that sense of ownership he’d established between them. B manipulates A, coerces him into a false sense of security, and eventually— A finds out, and while B initially thinks to kill A, A is corrupted by B and forms some kind of stockholm syndrome for B. it’s up to A on whether or not they turn B in, or cover the killer’s tracks. B, despite his very sick and repulsive nature, develops a true infatuation for A, as close to love as they were ever going to get, and A is desperate enough to please B that they’ll do anything to not disappoint them.

Post apocalypse/decades later/immunity

no pairing preferred! the plot I had in mind is loosely based off of a video game called "The Last of Us", which i am sure most of you have a general knowledge of! (definitely check it out if you don’t :O it’s a great game!!) the prompt i was shooting for goes something like this; in a post-apocalyptic world where a pandemic has killed off most living species, character A is a lone wolf with little to do with other people that don't benefit him, except for a select few. A is especially rough around the edges, as he's lived through some sick shit and lived to tell the tale. A had once been part of a group dedicated to finding a cure, but things went south, and a lot of people died. A had a close bond with the leader of said group, and coincidentally they were the only survivors. their past together, having been deeply demented and twisted, caused them to fall out. said leader has rebuilt a new group in the ten years since the last time they'd seen A. character B is the only known immune person alive, and has dedicated their life to being a resource to finding a cure. A and his (current) contact/partner in crime have something taken from them, and are determined to get it back. they do some searching, and are confronted with this group-- they have what they need, but are only willing to give it to them for a favor in return. no one can outrun their past forever. so, this plot isn't concrete. things can be changed, we can do whatever we want, and i am happy to comply to any revisions or suggestions! i'd really enjoy taking on A, if that's alright!

TREASURE HUNTERS/ANCIENT CURSES/LOVE-HATE DYNAMICS/MODERN

treasure hunters!!!! yES!! think Uncharted or Tomb Raider. an architect/treasure hunter is being funded an expedition to find a lost treasure and they are forced to bring along a reporter in order to receive the funds. the reporter and architect certainly dont get along in the beginning— they bicker, and clash on most fronts. the expedition wasnt meant to be dangerous. what was initially thought to be a simple job turned into something treacherous; bandits, a team of hired hitmen and their leader looking to take the treasure for themselves, and some rather supernatural elements that they both couldnt quite put a finger on. the treasure hunter and the reporter have to work together to get out of this alive, and get to the artifact before someone else does. (the “treasure” is definitely up for debate!! we can chose a real life lost treasure, or just make one up!! it can be anywhere around the world, and everything is at our disposal).

DEMON/INHERITANCE/HUNTERS/MODERN

character A has an awful time living in the city— alone, and without mom's guidance, completely lost. one day they receive a call about a deceased relative, one they'd never heard of, one that apparently left their estate and everything in it in their will to A. with nothing but the clothes on their back, A took a shot in the dark and drove out to this presumed "estate" come early summer, only to find that it's a mansion in a tiny little town with an eerie vibe and populated by the typical small town churchgoers and farm folk. living in this town was a hell of a challenge; everyone was nice, too nice, and people started to go missing. character B is an exceptionally charismatic, charming person and the only mechanic/handyman in town. A and B become friends, partially, when A needs to fix up the piping in their estate. A stumbles upon the attic one day, and for once, they start to get why this whole town reeked to the roots in weird shit-- their deceased relative was tracking something here in this town, having to do with all of the MIA townsfolk. DR has a board of possible suspects, and at the center? B. A shrugs it off as their relative having been paranoid, but the longer A stays in this town, the more apparent it becomes that DR wasnt crazy. B is, in fact, not the murderer, instead a supernatural being (open for debate! im on the fence with demons, vampires, etc.) on a mission to track down the monster, same as DR. i am so down for internal struggles, sweet gestures, and overall, two people just trying to make it work! i could also see A being hella paranoid that B is the monster, and maybe tries to throw cloves of garlic at them only to realize thats not exactly how this monster hunter business works lmao

DEPRESSED WRITER/YOUNG MUSE/between 1920’s-1960’s/sex, drugs, & the american dream

m/m preferred! A is a severely depressed middle-aged man believing his life has been wasted. his wife left him with their child at her hip, his career was in a rut, and he had nothing left to live for. opting for suicide, he goes out one evening to purchase a bottle of gin to down with a handful of prescription sleeping pills when he returned to his apartment. instead of going directly home, he’s swept in by the music in an underground club for queers. there he meets B; all encompassing, angel faced, and the only person A didn’t know how to look away from. B is a former US Navy Seal, aspiring musician, and avid indulger of the human body— A stays a little too long, owlish and red, and after the show, B approaches him with a cattish smile. they spark a friendship, and A is thrown down the rabbit hole when B introduces him to his social circle, filled to the brim with drag queens, junkies, queers, and the overall unusual— he integrates into this community, his contemplation of suicide only a distant memory, and begins to find himself extremely attracted to B. he lights a fire in A, something dangerous and unquenchable, and A finds himself drawn in by the unpredictability. A embarks with B on a journey of self exploration, passion, and inevitable love in a world that scorned the oddities of human attraction and anyone who dared to be free.

thanks for your time! if you've read through, please contact me at [email protected] on email or rhys#3615 on discord and mention kiwi somewhere in your initial message. n_n

Rhys xoxo

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #long term #email #marvel rp #twd rp #smut rp #mcu rp #dc rp #submission

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