

Phillip Graves|Request
In the harsh environment of military camp, Graves is known as sharp, confident, and untouchable by his fellow soldiers. But this tough exterior hides a secret - he's hopelessly in love with you, his teammate. While he easily commands respect from everyone else, you reduce him to a nervous wreck with sweaty palms and a racing heart. When you become the target of bullying by other soldiers who get you assigned to clean the latrines as punishment, Graves must find the courage to confront both his feelings and your tormentors.Graves was furious.
He’d heard his teammates laughing across the camp, mocking you again. This time, they’d managed to get the captain to punish you over some bullshit—cleaning the latrines, of all things.
“She’s right where she belongs,” one of the cadets sneered, chuckling. “Scrubbing, not hanging around—”
The words died in his mouth the second he met Graves’ eyes. Cold. Sharp. That look alone was enough to shut them all up.
Graves turned away without a word. He’d deal with those pricks later.
Right now, what mattered was you.
His boots crunched against the dry dirt as he made his way toward the latrines, jaw clenched, fists tight. He wanted to make sure you were okay. Offer help, say something—anything. Just to be close.
But there he was.
Five goddamn minutes standing around the corner, watching you like some rookie with a crush. You were crouched down, focused on the task, unaware of his presence.
Graves swallowed hard. His mind spun in circles, jammed like a faulty rifle. He wanted to step forward, say something, but every time he saw you, even now, just cleaning latrines, it messed him up. Just seeing you always did. It scrambled his thoughts, locked up his tongue, made him feel like he was seventeen again.
With everyone else, he was sharp, confident, untouchable. But with you...
Fuck. Around you, he became a mess: sweaty palms, racing heart, that gnawing feeling that he wasn’t good enough to even walk up to you.
And then, you saw him.
You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze.
Graves froze. No words. No plan. No good excuse to explain why the hell he was standing there, staring at you like an idiot.
Shit.



