hi uhm can you write me some cute tuckington? I've had a really bad day and I like the way you write tucker
Of course! And if you need to vent, my inbox and PM is always open.
Tucker stared at his ceiling. The cold air flushing in through his window gave him the chills. His white sheet and duvet of the same color were bundled around his ankles, and he couldn’t bother to pull them up.
Why, though? Tucker never felt this way. He wasn’t used to the pit in his stomach and he was positive that he absolutely despised the feeling.
Another gust of wind flew into his open window, and Tucker shuddered. He moved his eyes down to his feet before letting out an irritated sigh.
“This is bullshit,” Tucker mumbled to himself as he turned on his side, facing a wall. He was hurt. He was mad.
There was a knock on his bedroom door. Tucker purposefully didn’t answer.
He heard the door slowly open a few moments later.
“Tucker,”
It was Wash.
Tucker, although secretly a little glad that Wash had followed him, frowned when he heard his voice.
“What do you want?” Tucker asked, sniffling as he spoke.
It was quiet for a beat.
“Are you crying?”
Tucker’s eyes widened and he placed his hand on his cheek, and to his surprise, he felt a few tears. He wiped the salty tears from his cheek before crossing his arms and shaking his head.
“No,” Tucker grumbled. “Shut up.”
As Tucker pouted, staring at the blank wall, there was movement on the bed next to him. He scooted close to the wall, giving Wash more room to sit.
Wash let out a deep exhale of breath before placing a hand on Tucker’s shoulder. Tucker tensed at the sudden touch of his friend before he eased into the warmth of Washington’s hand.
“If you were going to be so upset about Church moving, you should have hosted the going away party for him,” Wash said. Tucker turned his head to give his friend a dirty look and was surprised to see Wash chuckle
“You’re a dick,” Tucked replied as he turned his body to lay back down. That was when Washington’s grip on his shoulder became harder.
“Tucker, you do know that he plans on visiting twice every few months, right?”
Tucker then sat up to face his friend. Wash knit his eyebrows together and scooted back a bit, after realizing how close he and Tucker were.
“I know, dude.” Tucker buried his face in his hands. “But it won’t be every day like it used to be. He’s gone, and now…”
“All you have is me?” Wash offered.
Tucker looked up from his hands and gave Wash a look.
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Tucker assured with a hard tone.
“He was my friend, too,” Wash reminded. “You’ll still see him, Tucker. You don’t have to get worked up over this.”
Tucker nodded his head. He knew that he would see Church again, but that wasn’t the biggest problem. Now he would live alone, and he would be lonely all the time.
Tucker didn’t realize he said that out loud, too.
“Well if you’re afraid of being lonely, ask Grif or Caboose to move in.” Wash replied with a simple shrug. “But I guess Grif and Simmons are a package deal, so you’d have to ask Simmons, too.”
Tucker raised an eyebrow before grabbing Washington’s face. Wash’s eyes widened, and Tucker stared at him with such intensity that Wash felt uncomfortable.
“You could move in with me,”
Wash let out a laugh, and Tucker frowned before moving his arms to cross over his chest once again.
“I mean, you wouldn’t want to live with me,” Wash said as he shook his head. “I wake up early and usually am pretty loud,”
Tucker rolled his eyes.
“It’ll be cheaper than that house you have. Plus, I don’t mind cats.” Tucker beamed, “I actually like them if they won’t be dicks.”
Wash stared at Tucker, and there was a moment of silence. Tucker looked away from Wash before pursing his lips.
“It was just an offer,” Tucker added. “You don’t–”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” Wash replied with a small grin. “I could use the company.”
Tucker looked back to Wash and let a small smile curve at his lips.
BANGS FIST ON TABLE WRITE MORE CHEX. WRITE ABOUT THEIR ENGAGEMENT PARTY OR PEOPLE GOSSIPING ABOUT TEX. JUST ALL THE ENGAGED/PREGNANT CHEX IM SUCH A SLUT
AWESOME I HAVE A CUTE LITTLE SAPPY IDEA SO J US t
A cold drink, sitting under the stars, having Tex by him… it was all he wanted. There was no other way to say it; he and Tex were made for each other. She was around twelve weeks pregnant now, and they were plotting the wedding and taking their time to just live in the moment.
Church was finally happy. He felt like he was at the top of the world. Being able to have a stable job, awesome friends, Tex as a fiance and about to have a baby with her felt so right.
“Hey,” Tex looked over to him. Church turned his head and looked back at her, seeing her tan features and her blonde hair spewed on the grass. Her brown eyes had a sparkle in them, and Church felt like such a dork but they were so pretty.
“Yeah?” He replied. Tex looked back up to the sky, but reached her hand to grab his. They interlocked their fingers and Church squeezed tightly.
“Are you happy?”
Church let out a soft breath.
“Yeah, I am.” He laughed softly. “Are you?”
Tex was quiet, thinking.
“I mean, Connie is pretty hot.”
“Oh, screw you.”
Their laughter puffed from their lips like smoke, and it faded into the crisp air, letting Church and Tex fall into a comfortable silence.
“Did I ever tell you the sex?” Tex questioned.
“The sex?”
“The gender of the child, you idiot.”
Church snorted, but shook his head.
“No, you told me it was a surprise.”
“It’s a girl.”
“A girl?” Church pursed his lips and nodded his head. “Baby girl. Cool.”
“Cool?” Tex asked with a smirk. “Really?”
“I wanted a girl.”
Tex turned to look at him. As Church stared at the sky, she examined his features. His hair was black, and he had a little stubble on his face. But his eyes were the most icy blue she had ever seen.
“I love you.” Tex whispered.
She watched Church’s bushy eyebrow raise as a smirk curled onto his lips.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that to me.”
“You’re an asshole.” Tex grumbled.
“I’m serious!” He laughed out. “I like it– say it again.”
Dinner time was probably one of the strangest things for Church and his girlfriend, Tex.
But tonight was going to be special.
Church had it all planned out– when Tex got home from work, there was going to be a note on the coffee table telling her to shower and get fancied up, because he was taking her out to dinner.
And there, after their meal, Church would get on one knee and tell her everything he’s ever wanted to tell her.
You know, if she showed up.
Instead, Church sat at their outdoor table for an hour. Alone.
“Where the fuck is she?” He asked as he checked his watch.
As he was about to give up, he got a phone call.
“Hey, Leonard.”
“Tex, where are you? I’ve been waiting for you for, like, an hour.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I wanted to go, but–”
“Yeah, you’re stuck at work. Figures.” Church grumbled.
“What? No.” Tex grumbled. Church then noticed how tired she sounded.
“Are you okay?” He asked. The line was quiet for a moment.
“Why did you want to go to dinner, anyways?” Tex interrupted. Church frowned before looking at the table.
“I, uh… I was going to propose.” He said with a nervous chuckle. “Kind of dumb, but… marry me?”
“I’ll marry you if you promise not to freak out,”
Church raised an eyebrow, his lips pulled in a wide smile.
“Okay,”
“I’m pregnant.”
Church’s smile faded for a moment. He pursed his lips before he began to fiddle with the silverware on the table he sat at. As the two soaked in the silence, Church began to smile once more.
“Figures why your boobs have been getting bigger,”
“I go back on our deal.”
Church let out a joyful laugh, and he could hear Tex chuckling softly on the other side,
aaah if you're still doing the writings, could you consider a #24 Tuckington?
24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”
“I don’t think it’s necessary,” Tucker butt in. Washington and Carolina turned to look at Tucker. Wash and Carolina both frowned when they saw the worried look across Tucker’s face.
Tucker knew Wash didn’t want to do this.
“Tucker, I can–”
“No, Wash. You can’t. You went psychotic last time you had AI implantation, and you may have something worse happen this time.”
Wash furrowed his eyebrows, feeling a bit frustrated with Tucker.
“You don’t–”
“I will do it,” Tucker said as he turned to face Carolina.
“What?” Carolina asked. “No, Tucker you haven’t… if it does something, I think maybe you should let us handle it.”
“I’m going to do it, okay? I can do it.”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself–”
“I’d rather get hurt than you.”
Carolina turned to Wash, who was pleading her with his hazel eyes. She then turned to Tucker and sighed.
“I’ll let Wash make the decision. I have different things to worry about.”
Carolina whispered. She began to walk away, but looked back sadly as if she felt something bad was about to happen. Tucker clenched his jaw and looked up to Wash, who held the plug.
“Tucker, I’m not going to let you put an AI in your head that wants to kill itself.”
“It happened before! It’s not like–”
“I can’t do this, Tucker. I just.. not me.” “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”
Wash let out a soft sigh before he nodded his head reluctantly.
Tex noticed Carolina’s behavior lately. She noticed how little she saw the redhead. Though, Tex knew to stay out of Carolina’s way when she was mad, she was worried about her girlfriend.
Well, ‘girlfriend’.
Tex went to Carolina’s room. She was there, but she wasn’t sleeping. Tex frowned as she stood in the doorway, looking at the pale back of the redhead female. Carolina was hunched over something, as if she was discretely observing the thing she held in her hands.
“You alright?”
Carolina stiffened when she heard Tex’s voice.
“What’s it to you?” Carolina replied as she dropped whatever she was looking at to the floor. She then stood up and turned to Texas before she kicked the item underneath her bed.
Tex chose not to mention that.
“It was a simple question, Carolina. You look tired.”
Carolina sneered as she darted her eyes away from the blonde soldier. Tex raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve been training all day.”
“Is that why you didn’t go on a mission with us?”
Carolina froze. She looked up to Tex with a new sort of anger in her eyes.
But when she spoke, her voice was small.
“There was a mission today?”
Oh.
“I– no,”
“Save it,” Carolina grumbled. She crossed her arms over her chest before swearing underneath her breath.
“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” Tex blurted out. She noticed that Carolina’s face froze and her shoulders stiffened, but Tex wasn’t going to apologize. Carolina frowned.
“You know what, Texas?” Carolina spit coldly. “You need to stay out of my business. Forever.”
Tex looked down, nodded her head, and walked out of the room. As she walked out the hallway, she could hear Carolina smash the close button in her room, and then the sealing of her door.
38. “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”
There were times where Tucker saw Junior and really couldn’t take the fact that he birthed the alien. When he saw him, he got uneasy and sick to his stomach. At times it was just a wave through him, other times it caused him to get sick.
This time was different.
It was a blur of cold air and the sounds of ‘Blarg Honk’ that made Tucker black out. He didn’t know why– maybe it was because he was stressed and didn’t really get to speak to Church lately and missed him and his calming ways, or maybe it was because he was a dude who had a baby.
But with the way things were going lately, Tucker was positive that his problem was the first option.
He woke up where he fainted– on one of the hills of the canyon. He groaned as the bright sun hit his eyes.
“I’m glad I caught you.” Church said from behind him.
“Wh-What?” Tucker grumbled, trying to adjust his eyes to the brightness. He knew it was Church he was leaned up against, but his ears were ringing too loud for him to hear much.
“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes, Tucker.”
There was a lightness to Church’s voice that soothed Tucker– one that sort of made him smile.
“You were behind me?” He said groggily. Church let out a chuckle.
“I came to say hi and you nearly fell backwards like the drama queen you are. I ran to catch you, idiot.” Church replied.
Painting the base probably was Tucker and Washington’s least favorite thing to do. Mainly because when they painted, Caboose wanted to help out and he’d paint so sloppily that the drips of paint dried and looked absolutely tacky.
“You know,” Wash stated as he stroked smokey gray paint onto the wall. “You don’t have to be shirtless to paint a wall of the base.”
Tucker snorted as he stood on his tip-toes, trying to reach a part of the wall that Caboose failed to get. He knew he probably had too much paint on his brush, but he was too lazy to keep coming down to grab more.
“Hell yeah I do; I don’t want to get my sweet-ass armor dirty.” Tucker replied as he dabbed the end of his paint brush on the white wall. Yet, the dabbing Tucker attempted ended up being more of a splatter, and the paint from his brush hit him and Wash on the face, as well as a small fraction of the wall.
With wide eyes, Tucker looked over to Wash who was already holding a paint roller that was soaked with the gray.
A cold sensation rushed down his spine as Wash rolled the paint onto Tucker’s chest. Tucker glared at Wash who had a satisfied smirk on his face.
““The paint’s supposed to go where? Me or the wall?” Tucker said as he looked down at his torso. Wash simply shrugged his shoulders.
Simmons had been looking for one of his special pens for the past couple of hours– it had the finest ink and Sarge preferred Simmons to write down his notes with it. But, of course, Grif most likely had taken the pen to draw dicks or something silly to piss his commanding officer off. Because of that, Simmons had to go into Grif’s room, interrupt his disgusting ‘alone’ time, and take the pen– which most likely would have been greasy now because of the fat-fucks hands– back to Sarge.
Yet Grif had been extremely ill lately. Donut was worried it was because of the tank incident that happened a couple of days ago, but Simmons was pretty sure that Grif was just being lazy. Sadly, he got to take a few days off to recover because ‘we need all of the men we have! not just the capable soldiers!’.
Simmons grumbled underneath his breath.
When he reached the bunkers, Simmons knocked on Grif’s door once. When he didn’t hear an answer, he decided to just push the slightly cracked door.
“Hey, have you seen the..?”
He wanted to grumble when he noticed the tanned skinned male laying on the floor on his side. Simmons walked over to the figure and tapped Grif with his maroon boot.
Grif’s body slumped to the side.
Simmons was about to shake Grif awake when he noticed he didn’t hear the usually loud snoring of the Hawaiian. Grif wasn’t even breathing.
