#beejtrap

[t00thpasteface]

"watch out for your goodies bj! that man is a sex maniac! DON'T LET HIM KISS YOU BJ!"

[majorbaby]

i have really neglected the beejtrap agenda in recent months huh? anyway, trapper would call BJ "honeycunt" and claim that's "just how we say it in Boston"

[mainenorth]

beejhawktrap. beejhawktrap living in the same house. beejhawktrap sharing the same bed. trapper taking hawkeye out on dates, kissing bj before he leaves. beejhawktrap sending letters to radar way after the war. beejhawktrap yknow

[serpercival]

Uhhhh can I get beejtrap and "...on a place of insecurity." No reason :') Thinking about the AU where Trapper has an amputation but it could be anything :D

HI REMY!!! For context for anyone who missed this one, I wrote a fic (Ephemeral, Transfemoral) where Trapper's sent home because he loses his left leg just above the knee in a shelling at an aid station. That fic is just traphawk, but I immediately went "hmm. needs to be punnitraphawk" and took the concept to The Squad and we built a lovely punnitraphawk variation :3

anyway i uh. went insane on this one. The rest of these prompts have been between 175-425 words. This one's 870. whoopsie

beejtrap, on a place of insecurity

It was going to be one of those days. Hawkeye had left well before Trapper woke up. Trapper didn’t have to go to work. He’d heard Peg leave shortly after he woke up, heels clicking against the wood floor in the entryway, and Erin was at school. There wasn’t a hell of a lot to do. No reason to drag himself out of bed to fiddle with his prosthetic or crutches if there wasn’t even anyone to talk to.

So he’d stay here. He’d get up when he eventually couldn’t wait any longer to get to the restroom, but that would only mean a few minutes of fucking around with the crutches.

The walls in the Hunnicutts’ former guest room were a nice shade of blue. A sort of dusty color. Trapper had spent a lot of time staring at them. They were easy to get lost in.

Someone knocked on the door.

Trapper sighed and checked the clock. It had been about forty-five minutes since Peg left. She couldn’t be back yet. “Yeah?”

BJ poked his head inside. “I thought we could go out for lunch.”

Trapper rolled back over. “I don’t wanna.”

BJ took one of those deep, careful breaths that meant he was trying not to be mean. “Let me rephrase. Trapper, we’re going out for lunch.”

“I haven’t taken a shower.”

Footsteps. BJ put a knee on the bed, a hand on Trapper’s shoulder, and rolled him onto his back. “Do you need a shower?”

“Yes.”

BJ stared him down. Trapper crossed his arms and refused to budge on the issue.

“Let’s go take a shower,” BJ said.

“BJ–“

“We’re going out if I have to pick you up and carry you,” BJ insisted. “Would Hawkeye let you do this if he was home?”

It was a fair point. Hawk had always been good at dragging Trapper out of the odd places he went in his mind. How had he lost forty-five minutes just staring at the wall?

BJ handed him his crutches. Trapper took a moment to tuck the dangling leg of his pajama pants into his waistband so they wouldn’t catch on anything and followed him off to the bathroom.

“Want me to wash your hair?” BJ asked, fiddling with the water temperature.

“I still got two working hands,” Trapper snapped.

BJ just raised an eyebrow at him.

“… Yeah, alright.”

BJ’s smile lit up the room while he stripped out of his workout clothes. It was still nerve-wracking, being around him. Hawkeye’s other, better lover. The one who came with a loving wife who wanted to love Hawk just the same—the one who hadn’t lost pieces of himself in the war in a way that made him a burden. He might have had trouble with his grip strength sometimes, but that was nothing compared to struggling with stairs and being pestered to look into wheelchairs.

Once Trapper had worked his own clothes off, with the help of sitting down on the toilet seat, BJ set his crutches against the wall and helped him into the shower chair before sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of it, only half in the spray. He cradled Trapper’s calf, temple resting against his knee.

Trapper swallowed and brushed the wet curls out of his eyes. “Can’t exactly reach my hair down there.”

BJ smiled, the softer kind that was usually reserved for Hawkeye and Peggy. “Is this okay?”

“Depends on what you’re doin’.”

In response, BJ ran his thumb over the long scar on the end of Trapper’s stump, that soft smile still playing across his face. It tickled. Trapper shifted backwards slightly and BJ only firmed his touch. “Do you know how special you are?”

Trapper scoffed.

“I mean it.” BJ pressed a kiss against the scar, hand tightening on Trapper’s calf. “Not because of this. The way you make Hawk and Peg light up…”

“I don’t do anything you don’t do.”

“You do. You do. You…” BJ took another deep breath, shifting to cradle Trapper’s stump in both his palms. “Hawkeye acts a decade younger when he’s around you.”

“Beej–“

“And Peggy, do you know what you meant to her while I was gone? You were her friend—her only friend—and you never pushed her. I’m grateful for that.”

The water was dribbling into his eyes. “You know the only reason I didn’t was ‘cause’a this thing, right? You two had met me before the war, I woulda been tryin’ to get with both’a you.”

“Well, maybe we wouldn’t have objected to that,” BJ said. He slid his hands down to the bottom of Trapper’s stump and pressed another kiss to the top, staring up at him with far too much heat in those beautiful blue eyes for half past ten in the morning. “You’re cute. I wouldn’t mind finding you as the prize in my cereal box.”

Trapper sniffled. “Even now?”

“Even now,” BJ promised. He dragged himself to his feet, nearly slipping on the wet tile floor before Trapper steadied him. “What are you thinking for lunch?”

“Anything except Korean.”

BJ chuckled and kissed him on the top of the head. “I can make that work.”

[remyfire]

Ship: BJ Hunnicutt/Trapper John McIntyre, established BJ Hunnicutt/Hawkeye Pierce and Trapper John McIntyre/Hawkeye Pierce

Rating: E

Word Count: 8.6k

Note: This is an AU where Frank goes home instead of Trapper, so BJ, Trapper, and Hawkeye are all in the Swamp at the same time. I'd intended to save this for the upcoming Rare Pair Exchange, but everyone has had such a rough time over the past few days that I decided we can all have an early treat instead :)

"Something's gotta be eatin' at you if you're being like this." McIntyre's voice warms. "S'it hurtin' you, I mean?" Oddly BJ's vision blurs for a second, but a few blinks clear it right up. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." McIntyre heaves a sigh. "C'mere." "Why?" BJ stiffens, frowns. The cot squeaks violently. "Will you just c'mere?" As far as he can tell, there's only one reason why McIntyre would tell him to come to his bed if Hawk turned him down, one that's never been relevant before this exact moment. Though BJ's cheeks begin to burn, he pulls a lever in his brain, alters the funhouse mirrors in there so he can't see what has him suddenly thirsty. "I don't need any pity." "Listen," McIntyre grunts as he sits up, a slightly darker shape than the all-encompassing night. "I'm just sayin' if you're that hard up for a lay and you're too goddamn prissy to deal with your own hand, then get over here and take it out on me, all right?"

[persianflaw]

🎲 For kiss roulette I am throwing beejtrap right back at you and the randomness of fate :D

HI REMY

I AM DRUNK. THAT IS A REALLY IMPORTANT CAVEAT TO THIS STORY. BUT I AM DRUNK AND SO HERE IS SOME BEEJTRAP FOR YOU, MY GOOD FRIEND

MODESTLY NOT SAFE FOR WERK MATERIAL UNDER THE CUT

beejtrap + 13. a kiss on the chest

“They’re pectorals,” BJ says, managing to keep his voice remarkably steady given the way Trapper is kissing a path down his neck. 

“Pectorals?” Trapper echoes mockingly, the heat of his breath ghosting across sensitive skin. It doesn’t make BJ shiver. Of course Trapper notices, the prick, and nips at the skin under his teeth, laughing when it makes BJ jolt. The laugh isn’t unkind, which makes it harder for BJ to keep resenting him. He doesn’t linger there, making his way further down, adding more kindling to the fire smoldering in BJ’s belly with every press of his lips and tongue.

When he’s made his way just past BJ’s collarbone, Trapper pulls back a little. BJ looks back at him, trying (and probably failing) not to look too put out by the slowdown to the proceedings, which earns him another cocky grin.

“Nah, honey. I know tits-” He reaches up to squeeze at BJ’s bare chest with both hands. “And these are tits.” He leans back in and lays a kiss on the outer curve of BJ’s left pectoral. Something in BJ’s spine melts, leaving him unable to hold himself upright unassisted, and he grabs Trapper’s shoulder. He can’t seem to get enough air. Trapper’s grip shifts, so he’s not squeezing so much as cupping; cupping, the same way he’d grab at a woman’s chest. But people don’t do that to men. Why would they? There isn’t- it’s not- 

One thumb slips and grazes the edge of a nipple, and the noise it pulls from BJ is one he will take to his grave.

Trapper lays another scalding kiss on the right side of BJ’s chest, right above his nipple, and the press of his lips sends an electrical charge surging through BJ’s entire body, lighting him up like a Christmas tree. His legs are further turned to jelly. He can’t be blamed for the way one of his hands slides into Trapper’s hair, winding his fingers tightly through the soft curls as Trapper pecks softly around the swell of his t- of his- of his chest. Whether he’s trying to push Trapper away or pull him in closer, even BJ doesn’t know.

It isn’t until Trapper finally, finally takes mercy on him and sucks a nipple into his mouth that BJ finds out which.

[hearteyespierce]

just wrote fic for the first time in months today and banged out a oneshot in one day 🙏🏻 it’s gonna need quite a bit of editing but some beejtrap is coming 👀

also just realized this week that with the terrible timing of my life falling part in late July/early August (if you know, you know) that I forgot to finish editing the last chapter of my @dghdabigbang fic 🤦🏼🤦🏼 it’s been completely written for months and things just got so crazy. so sorry to anyone who was reading it/looking forward to the last chapter! going to edit that and post it hopefully sometime tomorrow 🙏🏻 if you missed chapter 2, it went live back in July 💀💀💀 you can read it here!

[trappper-johnathan]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: MASH (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: B. J. Hunnicutt/"Trapper" John McIntyre Characters: B. J. Hunnicutt, "Trapper" John McIntyre

Summary:

'“Working on that thing again, huh?” Trapper asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yup,” BJ chirped, grabbing his toolbox. “It's having idling issues.”

“Never met a man who sounded so pleased about his machinery not working.”

“Then you've never met a man who appreciates using his hands to hone a skill.”'

Part of the Fox!Trap AU. BJ gets an audience while fixing his motorcycle.

nsfw tags under the cut:

Additional Tags: referenced/implied beejtraphawk, Foxboy Trapper AU, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Rimming, Motorcycle Sex, Kinda, Fluff and Smut, Animal Traits, porn without plot and little context

[bfpierce]

lonely life for those who ship beejtrap but not beejhawk but also happen to ship beejtraphawk

[t00thpasteface]

i will say a beejtrap sounds like some sort of nefarious fellatio-based trickery. got 'im with the ol' beej trap 🪤

[majorbaby]

they're boyfriends

[macbethheadband]

Can you all go to crazy4crazy beejtrap strangers in a bar fic with me. I know its many years old but i only just recently read it and im carrying it around like a giant backpack full of rocks and stones and boulders.

[serpercival]

hello percy !! for ur kiss ask

traphawk on a scar (of course :D)

and

beejtrap out of spite

BEEJTRAP!!! Brain immediately said "that thing people joke about where BJ and Trapper show up in Maine at the same time, Hawkeye isn't there, and BJ thinks very hard about killing Trapper"

beejtrap, out of spite

“So he’s out of town for another twenty-four hours,” Trapper John said with a shrug, sprawled over Hawkeye’s couch like he owned the place. “Way I figure it is that if we’re both here, and we’re both waitin’ to tell the guy we love him, why not have some fun, you know?”

BJ took a deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. He vaguely remembered Sidney telling him that it was supposed to be calming, but it mostly just made the situation clearer, which made him even angrier. Trapper John McIntyre had driven to Maine, politely asked Daniel Pierce for the keys to Hawkeye’s house, and was waiting to tell Hawk he loved him.

That had been BJ’s plan. It had taken him so long to come to terms with what he felt for Hawk, and now that he was here, he was getting beaten out by Trapper John McIntyre again. He was always there first. He always had Hawkeye’s heart first. There was nothing BJ could do to win except convince him to leave.

And instead of realizing how dire the situation was, Trapper John was propositioning him.

“What, precisely, do you think you’re going to get out of this?” BJ demanded.

Trapper shrugged again and popped another blueberry in his mouth. “I kinda figured you bein’ here meant I’d get a two-for-one deal outta the whole boyfriend picture, but I dunno how we’re gonna do that if you won’t even come kiss me.”

“I don’t know you!”

“Sure you do. Hawk didn’t tell you about me? He told me about you when he wrote me back, y’know. Get to know me better if you fuck me.”

“What?”

Another blueberry in his mouth. “You know, if ya want. We can wait for Hawk, too, I don’t mind. Long as I get dicked down outta all this, I’m happy.”

BJ swept his eyes over Trapper’s form—athletic, leftover football muscle, dick big enough BJ could see it against his pants even though he was soft—and tried to make his brain process that the man wanted to let a complete and total stranger sodomize him rather than the other way around.

It would feel good to put him in his place.

“Take it you wanna wait?” Trapper drawled.

BJ stalked over to the couch, grabbed him by the front of the shirt, and pressed a burning kiss to his juice-stained lips.

“Now,” BJ growled, darting forward to nip Trapper’s bottom lip when Trap grabbed his shoulders. “We’re doing this now.”

[remyfire]

Putting them in their Get Along shirt today

[thedupshadove]

See, Beejtrap feels like it should have some interesting potential, but every time I try to think about it I just end up writing "The Tango Hawkeye" in my head.

[hearteyespierce]

Fellow Travelers

Dumped unceremoniously at Kimpo Air Base and waiting for his flight back to the States, Trapper clings to one last hope of seeing Hawkeye, only to cross paths with a stranger who won't stop talking to him.

He'd stayed at the 4077th as long as he could. Waited as long as Frank would let him. If the weasel wouldn't have hesitated to throw him in the stockade and prevent him from ever going home to his girls in two seconds flat, Trapper would have decked him. Knocked his teeth out and his lights along with them with one fell swing of his right hook. But he knew better. Frank had backup, and Trapper didn’t. It didn’t matter what Hot Lips said to him when she was drunk, she'd always stand with Frank in the clear, sober light of day. And there was no lovable Colonel Henry Blake to keep them at bay. Not anymore. So they'd had two enlisted men drag him, all but literally kicking and screaming, onto a jeep bound for Kimpo. Without Hawkeye. His footlocker had been tossed unceremoniously into the cargo hold as soon as they arrived, and ever since his driver – a shame faced and apologetic corporal who was just as tall as Trapper was and almost twice his weight in solid muscle – had saluted him and driven away, he'd settled on this bench. So he sat there, with nothing but a solid view of the dirt road that wound its way to the air base. And he watched it like a hawk. A bedraggled, miserable hawk with clipped wings. read more...