I kinda sorta wrote some fic...
... it's more like a really long fic request, posted to my tumblr page. Please, universe, make this happen. Can someone write it for me? It's in canon genderflip. here's the backstory...
I want GK Girl!Nate fic so badly it’s insane. Like, Nate’s still the LT and Brad is her TL, so absolutely nothing is happening, except in their heads. Brad’s a little tortured because he facilitates between you are the most competent person I’ve ever met, I happily take orders from you and trust you kinda implicitly now & if anything happens to you I may blow up this entire country. He considers smacking himself in the face when he almost, seriously, moves to open a humvee door for her. Nate’s the most hardcore officer he knows and a stone cold fox. These things do not compute for Bradley Colbert. Exactly how does one go about wooing a woman, a female superior office no less, who’s drown-proof and knows 15 ways to kill you with a paperclip?
Nate never goes out of her way to hide the fact that she’s a woman; the men don’t ignore it - - her mouth is right there - - but she’s tucked into a mop suit, keeps the shit from raining downhill to the best of her ability and likes to give Brad heart attacks by sprinting into the middle of a firefight in order to save all their asses. So her gender’s just… re-prioritized in the grand scheme of things, for everyone but fucknuts like Griego and Encino Man. But when Brad’s alone in his grave, struggling to find sleep, and sometimes mid-combat jack, he thinks of Nate’s lush, lower lip, her green, green eyes, how her regulation hair cut, which makes her look a bit like a pixie Marine, shows off her neck. He can sometimes see the curve where her neck meets strong shoulder. He wants to suck that, bite down.
As part of this genderflip fic, I also want Girl!Nate + Gunny Wynn friendship moments like woah. Don’t know if it can be chalked up to Mike’s obvious devotion to his wife or due to some link they share as defacto leaders, but they mesh. They’re best friends. Nate is a little less guarded, and by default a little more girly, around Mike. Wynn and Fick can change in the same room, if need be, yet Mike knows she’s a little embarrassed about her feet, that she can’t wait to get a decent pedicure. Everyone’s heard her rap with the guys, but only Mike has heard her singing Adele songs under her breath. Nate’s a beautiful alto. And one night back in La Jolla when Nate finally cuts loose and gets epically smashed, it’s Mike who laughingly scoops her into his arms and carries her to the car. Brad’s so jealous he has crescent-shaped indents imprinted in his palms, from clenching his fists so hard.
Also, if you're a GK fan, you need to check out http://raincitybones.tumblr.com/. Takes any question and, along with the astounding queeniegalore, writes smoking hot ficlets. Exhibits A & B... (ETA links here and here)
asked: Because you're drunk you won't get mad at me if I ask you to tell me about how Brad and Nate finally hooked up...
“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Brad doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. All he knows is that his hands are all over Nate, shoving him up against he side of his humvee because they have two fucking seconds of privacy. Behind his eyes he keeps seeing Nate climb out of the relative safety of his victor, step into the blood and guts of the fire fight because Encino Man and the rest of command are too fucking stupid to fuck a Tijuana whore.
“Brad” Nate’s soft, ungaurded and vulnerable or some equally special olympics gay.
“You could have” Brad can’t even finish it, mouth closing over his in this wet, desperate kiss that just goes on and on until Nate is rutting up against him desperately.
*********
asked: Of our GK boys, who do you think would be the best kisser? This isn't who do you want to kiss most (because duh), but who do you think kisses like he was born to do it...
...Nate Fick. Holy God, that man’s mouth. I mean, obviously. That man has a spectacular mouth and says everything in that assured, soft spoken way that carries such weight. Can you imagine for a second that Nate gets up in your space. His hands are pressed on either side of your head, boxing you in against the wall just inside the door of his apartment, bent at the elbows so he’s right up in your face. You’re panting against each other and he never once breaks eye contact. He just says kiss me in the same soft, sweet, sure way that he issues commands and you do.
I want GK Girl!Nate fic so badly it’s insane. Like, Nate’s still the LT and Brad is her TL, so absolutely nothing is happening, except in their heads. Brad’s a little tortured because he facilitates between you are the most competent person I’ve ever met, I happily take orders from you and trust you kinda implicitly now & if anything happens to you I may blow up this entire country. He considers smacking himself in the face when he almost, seriously, moves to open a humvee door for her. Nate’s the most hardcore officer he knows and a stone cold fox. These things do not compute for Bradley Colbert. Exactly how does one go about wooing a woman, a female superior office no less, who’s drown-proof and knows 15 ways to kill you with a paperclip?
Nate never goes out of her way to hide the fact that she’s a woman; the men don’t ignore it - - her mouth is right there - - but she’s tucked into a mop suit, keeps the shit from raining downhill to the best of her ability and likes to give Brad heart attacks by sprinting into the middle of a firefight in order to save all their asses. So her gender’s just… re-prioritized in the grand scheme of things, for everyone but fucknuts like Griego and Encino Man. But when Brad’s alone in his grave, struggling to find sleep, and sometimes mid-combat jack, he thinks of Nate’s lush, lower lip, her green, green eyes, how her regulation hair cut, which makes her look a bit like a pixie Marine, shows off her neck. He can sometimes see the curve where her neck meets strong shoulder. He wants to suck that, bite down.
As part of this genderflip fic, I also want Girl!Nate + Gunny Wynn friendship moments like woah. Don’t know if it can be chalked up to Mike’s obvious devotion to his wife or due to some link they share as defacto leaders, but they mesh. They’re best friends. Nate is a little less guarded, and by default a little more girly, around Mike. Wynn and Fick can change in the same room, if need be, yet Mike knows she’s a little embarrassed about her feet, that she can’t wait to get a decent pedicure. Everyone’s heard her rap with the guys, but only Mike has heard her singing Adele songs under her breath. Nate’s a beautiful alto. And one night back in La Jolla when Nate finally cuts loose and gets epically smashed, it’s Mike who laughingly scoops her into his arms and carries her to the car. Brad’s so jealous he has crescent-shaped indents imprinted in his palms, from clenching his fists so hard.
Also, if you're a GK fan, you need to check out http://raincitybones.tumblr.com/. Takes any question and, along with the astounding queeniegalore, writes smoking hot ficlets. Exhibits A & B... (ETA links here and here)
asked: Because you're drunk you won't get mad at me if I ask you to tell me about how Brad and Nate finally hooked up...
“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Brad doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. All he knows is that his hands are all over Nate, shoving him up against he side of his humvee because they have two fucking seconds of privacy. Behind his eyes he keeps seeing Nate climb out of the relative safety of his victor, step into the blood and guts of the fire fight because Encino Man and the rest of command are too fucking stupid to fuck a Tijuana whore.
“Brad” Nate’s soft, ungaurded and vulnerable or some equally special olympics gay.
“You could have” Brad can’t even finish it, mouth closing over his in this wet, desperate kiss that just goes on and on until Nate is rutting up against him desperately.
*********
asked: Of our GK boys, who do you think would be the best kisser? This isn't who do you want to kiss most (because duh), but who do you think kisses like he was born to do it...
...Nate Fick. Holy God, that man’s mouth. I mean, obviously. That man has a spectacular mouth and says everything in that assured, soft spoken way that carries such weight. Can you imagine for a second that Nate gets up in your space. His hands are pressed on either side of your head, boxing you in against the wall just inside the door of his apartment, bent at the elbows so he’s right up in your face. You’re panting against each other and he never once breaks eye contact. He just says kiss me in the same soft, sweet, sure way that he issues commands and you do.