#cbs swat 2017

[chosenimagines]

SWAT (2017) Masterlist

Announcement

Season 5 in Germany

Crossover

Criminal Minds X Swat

Headcanons

Darryl is a writer

Random posts

Dear CBS Swat Writers

SWAT obsession

Just started Swat

Reblog

Hondo needs patience

Street, Luca & cooking

Prank & Luca’s kindness

Not enough Tan

Ships

My desired ship for Luca

Simping

Tan & Basketball

How do you feel about Tan?

Masterlist of Masterlists Taglist (doesn't exist yet, but hmu if you wanna be on it)

[luca-street-chris-deacon-rp]

@ofmymanymuses

For the last fourteen years, Annie and Deacon had lived in a marriage that they had both believed would last forever. But that hadn't been the case because eighteen months ago, Annie had sat him down and told her husband, after quite a serious rough patch, that she wasn't in love with her husband anymore and wanted a divorce. It had come as a shock for Deacon, who had tried reasoning, listening, and trying to fix their marital issues, Annie didn't want to continue trying and she had listed off the many reasons why she wanted their marriage to end. So Deacon had gone from sleeping in his own bed to sleeping on the couch while he searched for some place else to live. The kids had been upset, maybe not even fully understanding what was going on, and they were confused, while Matthew, the eldest, was angry. That was eighteen months ago, and while Matthew was angry and getting into trouble, Lila was upset because she missed her dad, and Samuel and Victoria were confused because they were both still relatively young, both under eight. Sometimes, when couples separated, they found that they got on a little better, but in Kay's case, it just made it worse, going from reasonable to grudgingly amicable to bordering on toxic. Neither the two of them thought that their lived would have ended like that, so it was a big adjustment. What was also a bit adjusted was the fact that Luca had a friend who was single and was trying to set them up. Their lives had been turned upside down completely. So, while they dealt with agreed shared custody, they were also navigating a divorce.

Deacon had put Luca and Street off for a while when they kept trying to set him up with women and he genuinely wasn't interested, but to shut them up he agreed to one date and he was relieved to see a mutual friend at the bar, Fallon. They had been friends for a few years thanks to Luca, so seeing that Fallon was his date wasn't a bad thing after the few date disasters that he had been set up oh by other friends.

"Hi, can I buy you a drink?" He asked her, and he already knew what she drank. "If Luca had told me that you were my date then I wouldn't have been so nervous."

Unbeknown to Deackn, Fallon was into him, and Luca knew this, so he made it happen . He had watched Deacon when he was around Fallon and how different he seemed.

[dominiquelucalover]

Center of Danger | Dominique Luca x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Your Tuesday plans are put on hold when you're caught in the middle of a bank robbery, but as if that didn't put a damper on your day, going into labor in the middle of it certainly did.

CW: fem!reader, pregnancy, labor, hostage situation, guns, death threats, death, blood, mild descriptions of violence, pre-established relationship. If any of these topics trigger you in any way, please do not read. Your wellbeing is so important.

A/N: I tried to make reader a behavioral analysis expert who works with S.W.A.T. but I don't know how well I incorporated that. ( not me trying to flex my Criminal Minds knowledge like a fucking nerd.) PS: I spent four straight hours writing this lol. and nother hour and a half proofreading and editing (and adding a whole 'nother fucking thing to the end of this jfc) (I'm having fun lol)

Your day had been going well. You went to one of your final doctors appointments before you were supposed to have the baby, you'd grabbed some of the last minute things on your baby list, and you were going over what you needed from the grocery store while you stood in line at the bank. It was one of those errands that you couldn't put off doing anymore, especially with the impending birth of your child, so it seemed easy enough to get out of the way today while you were already out and about. Unfortunately, a group of greedy, grubby-handed robbers decided to ruin those plans.

You couldn't lay on the ground like they wanted everyone to, which already irritated not only them but you too. The floor was uncomfortable as you sat against one of the desks while everyone else was forced to lay face down and not to move. It was a tense situation as the three robbers made the tellers fill their bags, one you wished would be over soon.

However, the robbers had already fucked up and got themselves stuck in the bank. A teller had sounded the silent alarm and in a fit of anger, one of the criminals shot the security officer dead. Another one freaked out because "no one was supposed to die" and seemed to be on the verge of tears, but it was hard to tell because they were all wearing plastic Halloween masks. This was turning out to be the worst bank robbery you had ever witnessed, not that you had ever actually witnessed a bank robbery but you had studied plenty.

"Shit, man! The cops are here!" one of the robbers all but growled. He turned his weapon on the tellers with a nasty glare from behind his ghoul mask. "Which one of you sounded the alarm, huh? Fucking idiots!"

He shot at the ceiling suddenly, causing people to scream. You jumped and held your belly protectively, taking a deep breath as you tried to stay calm. However, your blood pressure was already up and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. The baby was kicking, sensing your distress, and you rubbed your bump in an attempt to soothe them.

"Cool it!" another of the robbers chastised his buddy, seething with anger behind his devil mask. "You're gonna need those bullets. So chill the fuck out."

"I'll do as I damn-well please," the first one said, then walked away, seeming to look for another way out.

The freaked-out robber stayed out of the conversation, seeming more subservient to the other two. He just stood the to side, watching over the hostages like he'd been told to, hiding behind his clown mask. You knew from that if any of them were going to break first, it was him.

As things around you began to calm down, you leaned your head back on the desk and took even, deep breaths. Of course, the quiet couldn't last long.

A couple were whispering to each other a few feet away and as soon as the robber with the devil mask, who seemed to be the leader, caught wind of it, he stomped over and pointed his gun at the woman's head. "I said to keep quiet! You want me to blow her head off?"

"No, please! We'll be quiet!" the man begged.

"I should make sure you stay quiet for good," the leader said, teasing the trigger of his gun. The grin of his devil mask made the scene more unsettling.

At that moment, you felt a sharp pain in your belly and let out a heavy groan. All eyes turned to you and watched as you withered in your spot. You were caught between pain and confusion, hoping that you weren't going into labor. You weren't due for another three and a half weeks. Your baby couldn't come now, this was the worst-case scenario. Anywhere else but in the middle of a robbery would have been ideal.

The devil walked over to see what you were doing, letting out a frustrated groan. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Give me a break!"

You looked up at him as the contraction passed, irritated and not ready to give birth. You spat, "Sorry to ruin your parade!"

He pointed his gun at you but the clown ran over and pushed it down. "Dude, you can't shoot a pregnant lady!"

The leader looked at him, then walked away muttering under his breath about how this was going terribly and how the last thing he needed was a baby to mess it up further.

It was about that time one of the phones rang and he walked over to answer it, knowing it was the police outside. It was about time, but you thought that perhaps they needed a negotiator to show up, which was unfortunate for you. A few minutes earlier and you might not be in the early stages of labor right now.

"What do you want?" Devil asked brashly.

You couldn't hear who was on the other side of the call, sitting too far away. You watched closely, hoping your boyfriend was outside with his team. It would be the perfect fantasy if he came to your rescue; besides, they were the best S.W.A.T. team in LA. What were the chances that they weren't here?

The phone call only lasted about two minutes before the leader hung up having made no demands. He laughed, shaking his head. "They think I'm an idiot."

The ghoul came back into the room and grunted. "They've got the whole place surrounded! They probably have snipers ready to kill us if we walk outta here. What do we do?"

Devil thought for a moment, then gestured with his gun at the people laying on the floor. "Put them in front of the doors and windows. Use them as a shield. They won't shoot in here with hostages in the way and it'll give us time to think."

His accomplices nodded and started getting people up, guiding them with their guns to form a line around the center of the bank. The patrons followed orders dutifully and linked their arms together, their lives put further in danger by their captors.

The leader came over to you and grabbed your arm, but the clown came over and asked him what he was doing. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting her off her ass."

"She's pregnant, man," he said, his voice a little more confident than before. He didn't seem to like that you were there at all, but as soon as his bossy friend came near you, he jumped to your aid. "Just leave her alone."

"You questioning me?"

He seemed to think on his feet. "I'm just saying, if the cops know we got a pregnant lady in here, thye're gonna get more aggressive. They'll try harder to get in here. Think about it, man."

"Kid's got a point," Ghoul said, looking over. "She'll be our secret weapon."

Devil looked between them and shook his head, letting you go. "Fine, maybe you're right... this time. We'll see."

He walked away to make sure the wall of hostages was cooperating, looking out the glass doors and windows at the front of the bank to evaluate what his next move should be. He took slow, calculated steps, taunting the police and the hostages at the same time.

Another contraction hit you and you whimpered, holding your stomach and slightly curling up. The clown crouched down beside you, looking at you with wide eyes from behind his mask. He stuttered, "A-are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" you asked through clenched teeth. He looked down, almost ashamed for asking the question. You would feel bad if he wasn't hiding his identity and holding a large automatic gun on his back. Once the pain passed, you breathed out. "How old are you?"

"Doesn't matter," he answered.

"Sure it does. They called you kid," you told him, making him look up at you. "Means they don't respect you."

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head. He stood up and walked away, but looked back at you as he did. That was how you knew you did it. You planted that seed of doubt in his mind.

The next call came in not that long after, but Devil made one of the hostages answer the phone, a terrified older man who had been there to help his son open a bank account. He instructed the man on what to say, telling the officer on the other end that they wanted an armored car and a one way trip out of the country for the three of them, all within the next hour. It wasn't possible, you thought, which you were sure was what they were told before the hostage was made to hangup the phone with the promise that if their demands weren't met by that time, someone else was going to die.

The time seemed to pass sluggishly. You wouldn't have known it was going by at all were it not for the contractions picking up speed. You had read all your books about pregnancy and birth, so you knew that wasn't a great sign in this particular situation. Your labor seemed to be fast approaching, but you didn't want it to be. Were this in line with your birth plan, that would be ideal. However, a speedy birth was not on your agenda for the day.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock," Devil taunted as he walked the line of hostages again. He'd been pacing behind them to needlessly remind them of his presence. It was cruel and having to watch him was intense. "Five more minutes."

"What if they get us what we want?" Clown asked, looking at his friend.

The leader shook his head. "They won't get us what we want. They'll try to bribe us with less than what we asked for just to get us outside."

"So you're just gonna kill one?"

"Yup."

A woman in line cried out at hearing this and she was snapped at to shut up by the ghoul. He held a gun to her back and laughed at her terror as she tried to muffle her cries.

Clown watched, clutching his gun to his chest, before looking at Devil. "Wasn't killing the guard enough?"

"Not until we get out of here with the money and our lives," the leader answered, then shoved him. "Now shut up and do your job."

You watched as the 'kid' shook his head and walked away, listening to the devil without another question. Paying attention to everything else around you was the only thing keeping you from going insane from the pain. It was more persistent now and you felt the baby had moved lower. It was getting harder to keep your cool as all you wanted to do was yell and kick your feet at these guys who had forced you into early labor.

You were trying not to think about the time passing, watching Devil pace back and forth behind the line. He was looking at them, gun pointed at their backs. Then, suddenly, another sharp contraction shot through you and all you could do was scream as he shot a woman in the back.

She would have dropped to the floor were it not for the two people on either side of her whose arms were linked with hers. They were told to drop her as she cried and writhed. Then Devil went to stand over her, watching her squirm on the ground and bleed, before lifting his gun and shooting her in the head. Everything stopped and grew quiet except for your cries. They echoed off the high walls of the bank, violently reminding everyone there that life came with pain.

Sweat and tears slipped down your face as people were forced to listen to you until you quieted down. The contraction passed and you were slumped against the desk once more.

The devil turned to Clown and motioned toward you. "Go make sure she's alive."

"Okay," he said and walked over to you. He put his gun on his back and crouched beside you, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the sweat from your forehead. "You're, uh, you're getting closer to, um, having the baby, aren't you?"

You nodded, keeping your eyes forward, watching the way Devil made two hostages move the woman's body closer to the door. They were going to use her as a block in front of the door incase S.W.A.T. came running in, which made you sick to your stomach. You'd seen a lot of malicious shit, but that was a new low.

The phone rang, but no one moved to answer it. Then the devil chuckled.

"Get her on her feet," he said, looking over at you and the 'kid.'

Clown puffed up his chest. "She can't possibly-"

Devil got angry. "Don't question me! Just do it!"

Clown looked at you apologetically and put an arm around your back and hoisted you up. You cried out as you felt the baby shift lower. It was hard to walk, awkward really. But he held you up and guided you to the phone as it rang. Just as you reached the desk, it stopped, and you wanted to scream but managed to hold it in. You knew they would call back. They had to.

The clown leant you against the desk and brought its accompanying chair over to you. He helped you sit in it as his buddies scolded him, but he didn't argue back or justify his actions then. Only when you were seated did he turn to them and bark back.

"You're making a pregnant lady do all this shit when she's about to have a goddamn baby! What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled.

Devil got in his face. "I'm the one calling the shots around here! You do as I say, and if I want that fat bitch to answer the damn phone, she will, or she and that baby won't-"

"Oh, so you're gonna kill a lady and her baby?"

"Wait a minute!" Ghoul interrupted, looking at the devil, "Who died and put you in charge?"

"I've been in charge, numbnuts!"

The argument would have continued on from there, but the phone rang. They all looked at your tired face and waited for you to comply with what Devil wanted. So, you did.

"Hello," you said.

The voice on the other end of the phone made you feel some relief as he said your name. It was Hondo. "Is that you?"

You didn't answer immediately, not wanting to put the robbers on edge or clue them in to anything.

He seemed to understand. "If you are who I think you are, say 'where's the car?' if you're not, say 'please help us.' Okay?"

"Where's the car?" you asked, eyes trained on the robbers. Devil nodded at you, seeming to like that you were apparently smart enough to understand the situation at hand - you got right to the point of things and had been paying attention. Little did he know...

"We're gonna get you out of there, okay? We're working on it," Hondo told you.

"Well work on it faster," you told him, wincing in pain. You held your belly with your free hand. You kept your mouth shut about being in labor, knowing the robbers didn't want that detail known to anyone outside. "They've already killed someone else."

"We know, we saw," he said, letting out a regretful sigh. "But our eyes can only see in through the windows. The camera system is down. How many people are left inside with you?"

You looked around the room, trying to count the number of hostages, but it was harder to concentrate on something like that. "I don't know."

"What did he say?" Devil asked.

"They want to know how many people are alive."

Ghoul huffed. "Why does he want to know?"

"I don't know," you groaned, feeling another contraction rearing its ugly head. You did know, but there was no way you could strategize what the right thing to say to them was at that moment. "They-they probably- ahh!"

Hondo said your name several times, keeping his voice even. "Talk to me, mama. What's going on in there?"

Devil came over and seethed at you, "Tell him to get us what we want or we're gonna kill another person. Then hang up."

You spoke through the pain. "Get them what they want-"

"Are you in labor?" Hondo asked, hearing the strain in your voice.

"Or they're going to kill again," you said. "Please, please hurry."

Ghoul took the phone from your hand shook, slamming it into the holder. He watched you as you grabbed the arms of the chair, digging your nails into the hard wood. You scraped it and he shook his head. "Pregnant people are weird," he mumbled.

He and the devil moved on, talking to each other about what to do next. They began to argue about it but it was short lived as they parted ways. Ghoul slammed his fist on a desk and stomped away to try again at finding a plan-b escape. Devil leaned on a desk out of view of the windows, near you, and waited.

Clown stayed with you and talked you through the contraction. His voice wavered with fear and nervousness, seemingly never been in a situation like this before, as far as pregnancy went at the very least. Once it passed, he wiped your forehead again. "What-what's going to happen if you give birth in here?"

You looked at him, unsure yourself. "Well, there will be a baby in here and we'll both need immediate medical attention. If at that point they know about that, S.W.A.T. might just do anything to get in here."

Now that Hondo knew you were in here, there was more pressure on him to get inside and ensure your safety. You knew he wasn't going to tell Luca that you were one of the hostages because it would cloud his judgement, damned be the third generation S.W.A.T. officer that he was. His girlfriend and unborn child were in the center of danger and he'd do anything to get you out of there.

Clown got you water and helped you drink it as you continued to wallow in pain. As you sat there, you knew the situation was dire. You could see out some of the windows, seeing S.W.A.T. officers gearing up. You knew that sooner or later, they were going to come inside. You also saw an armored car pulling up, but it was a great distance away from the doors.

Ghoul came back, a little bit of a skip in his step. "They got our car! Let's go!"

"Wait!" Devil said, standing from his position and walking up behind the hostages. He took a man from them by putting his arm around his neck and pointing his gun into his side. They slowly made their way to the windows so he could peer out. He seethed. "They're trying to lure us out."

When he got back to the safe zone, the devil scratched his head, clearly deep in thought. He knew they were in deep, and with your timely reminders about the impending birth of your child, their odds of getting out of here was getting slimmer and slimmer.

"Wait for them to call," he said, turning to his friends. "We tell them we're going to take a hostage with us to ensure our escape."

"Dude, they got the fucking car, why do we gotta wait?" Ghoul asked.

"Because as soon as we step anywhere near those windows, they're gonna gun us down," Devil said, shoving him. "This is why I'm in charge, because you don't think!"

"I think better than you!" the ghoul yelled. "It was my idea to come here, remember?"

"And look at where that got us! You could of picked any other bank, but it had to be this big fancy one in the middle of town!"

"The cameras are out! They can't see in here, dimwit!"

You were about to yell at them to shut up when the phone rang. Devil looked at you and nodded. As you picked up the phone, Ghoul tried to continue the argument, but the devil shoved him away and told him to be quiet.

"Hello," you said.

Hondo sighed with relief at hearing your voice. "Say 'what do you want?' if you're okay. Say anything else if not."

"What do you want?" you asked.

"Tell the brothers we have their car ready for them," he said, which peaked your interest. You looked at the robbers in front of you and it clicked. Their arguing and dynamics made sense now.

They were brothers.

"Your car is ready," you told them.

Ghoul leaned against the desk in front of you. "Tell him we want it closer!"

Devil shoved him away again. "And that we're taking a hostage with us, so if they shoot at us, they'll be killing the next innocent person."

You took a deep breath and nodded. "They want the car closer so that they can get in with a hostage."

Hondo grunted. "Of course they'd try that trick. Listen to me, okay, we're not gonna let that happen. But tell them that we have to make room to move the car, so it'll be a minute."

"Okay," you said and sighed, rubbing your belly. You were in the last stretch of contraction. You could just feel it. "They have to make room for the car to get closer, so it'll be a few minutes before you can leave."

Devil didn't say anything, only took the phone from you and hung it up. "Get ready to get out of here, boys. Make the hostages take our bags to the door."

Then he walked away.

Ghoul took control of that mini mission, bossing two of the men in line to move and hustle to get their bags full of money to the door. They dropped them off and promptly got back in line, seeing the robber's finger ever-present on the trigger of his gun.

You were leaning forward on the desk, head laying on your arms as you whined and tried to breath deeply. You tried to hold your legs closed, preventing the progression of labor in anyway you could. You cursed having worn a dress today. You tried to think about anything else but where you where in that moment and what was happening. You tried to put yourself at home, in your baby's nursery that you and Luca had spent the last few weeks putting together and decorating. It helped distract you for a few minutes until more yelling broke the illusion.

Looking up, you saw Devil and Ghoul arguing about which hostage to take with them, which was the stupidest thing you had ever seen. It made you angry as you sat there, in labor, having to listen to this. Devil wanted to take you but Ghoul wanted to take anyone else. You were at your breaking point.

However, Clown snubbed out your lit fuse. He came with more water and helped you sit up so he could bring the cup to your lips. You sipped it, thankful that he was the kindest of the brothers. From what you had observed, he had to be the baby of the three and didn't want to hurt anyone there. He was there to rob a bank, not kill anyone, and each time you were in pain, he came to your side. He took care of you as much as he knew how. Something inside of him was redeemable, you thought so at least.

"They're both idiots," you whispered to him.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah... I can't believe I agreed to do this. I should have never let them talk me into this."

You nodded. "Yeah, that's true."

He leaned against the desk, staying close to you as you both listened to the argument devolve, once more, into who is in charge. It was beginning to sound like they were a broken record, but as they continued the back and forth, you heard how similar their voices were, how similarly they spoke, and you could picture them as brothers more and more. It was in contrast to the 'kid', who seemed a little more mild mannered and quiet. He only spoke against the other two when he was passionate about whatever he was fighting them for, be it the lives of the people there or your wellbeing. It made you wonder how he was a part of this family.

Suddenly, everything came to a head.

"I told you to stop questioning me!" someone yelled, followed by a round of rapid pops from a gun.

You couldn't process anything for a moment, stomach tightening and making double over, leaning onto the desk again. You held your belly, screaming with the other scared people trapped with you. The moment passed quickly, but you couldn't look up.

"Bobby, what did you do?" Clown yelled.

The devil, Bobby, turned and criticized his kid brother. "Shut up! Don't say my name, you idiot!"

"But-"

"I said shut up!" he yelled and pointed the gun at him. "Now stop asking stupid questions or you're next."

You peeked up from your arm, seeing how far Devil had devolved. In the beginning, he was semi-organized (given how shittily the robbery was planned, there was at least some effort on his behalf), but the stress of the situation and his brother's mouth had finally snapped his last nerve.

Clown backed down and slowly sank to the ground beside your chair. Bobby began pacing again.

The phone range and you answered it.

"What's happening in there?" Hondo asked.

You could feel the devil's eyes on you. "You need to hurry."

"What happened?" he said again, fearing the worst.

You let out a breath. "Someone else is dead."

"Tell them we're going as fast as we can," he said.

You looked over at Bobby. "They're going as fast as they can. Please don't shoot anyone else."

"I'll shoot whoever I damn-well please," he said and took the phone from you, putting it to his ear. "You listen here, buddy. You don't tell me what to do, got it? Now, if that car isn't at the front door in five minutes, I'm killing everyone in here."

He slammed the phone into the holder before ripping it off of the desk and throwing it across the room. He stomped off, going back to his look out position from behind the line of people. He watched the doors impatiently, seemingly unbothered by the crying people before him. Their anguish brought him no joy, unlike his now-dead brother, as it was obvious that the people were merely pawns in his game. He didn't care about them whatsoever.

You laid your head down and whispered, "He's gonna kill you."

Clown made a worried noise in the back of his throat. "No-no he won't. He-he's my brother..."

"You blew his cover. Everyone here knows his name and it won't be hard to track down a Bobby in an armored car," you said, pausing to moan and shift your seated position. You couldn't hold your legs together anymore, knowing it was dangerous. It was a feeble attempt anyway. "He's already angry and you're the only one left brave enough to stand up to him."

He whined. "I-I'm really not."

"Yeah, you are," you told him, hoping to break through to him. "You've protected me from him this whole time. That took a lot of courage, I know it did."

"But... he's my brother... The only family I have left now," he said.

You looked at him, meeting his sad eyes past the mask. "Family wouldn't put you in this position."

He stared into your eyes for a moment, then looked away in contemplation. He didn't say anything for a moment, which felt like an eternity, and then he looked at you again. "What's your name?"

"Why does it matter now?" you asked.

"Because if I'm gonna die, I'd like to know the name of the lady I protected," he said.

You didn't understand what that meant, it could mean many things, and as you felt the pain getting worse, you couldn't think very well anyway. You told him your name between heavy breathes.

He gently wiped your forehead again, talking you through the pain. Then he took off his mask, revealing his face to you, and you were saddened to see how young he was. There was no doubt he was in his early twenties but he still had a baby face and the biggest eyes you'd ever seen a man have, giving him a deer in the headlights look.

"I'm Eric."

Then he stood up and moved away from you, walking over to another desk quietly. He moved out of your sight and you couldn't move much anymore, too tired to do much of anything as it were. Despite the situation, all you wanted to do was get this over with.

Then, there was a loud thud from where Eric had disappeared to.

Bobby turned around and marched over to you. "What the hell are you doing?"

You groaned, looking up at him. "Nothing."

He seethed again, "I've about had enough of you and you're whining."

"I'm about to push a watermelon out of me, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to shut u-" BANG!

He fell to the ground in front of you, his blood splattering on the desk. Looking over, Eric had his gun trained on his brother from behind the desk a few feet away, eerily still, like he was trained for this. It made your heart ache because your stomach was already twisted. What kind of life had this kid had that led him and his brothers to this?

As he walked over to you, he yelled at the other hostages, "Go! Get out of here! Go! Get out!" They listened without hesitance and ran screaming and crying for the door.

He crouched down beside his brother's body and took the gun off of him, sliding it across the floor. He then took his own gun and push it to follow. Then he turned to you, "Are you okay?"

You nodded. "More or less."

Eric couldn't say another word before S.W.A.T. came into the bank with guns at the ready. They aimed at him and he put his arms up, already on his knees. You screamed in pain and he turned to look at you, making Hondo yell at him to stay still, but he didn't seem to hear him. If he did, he didn't listen and reached out to you.

He took your hand and let you squeeze it as the pain made you sob.

You managed to cry out, "He's unarmed!"

The team got closer and saw the truth in your words. They pulled his hand from yours despite your tight grip and handcuffed him, getting him onto his feet. While Chris and Street patted him down, Luca and Hondo came to your side.

"Fucking hell, I could kill this guy for all this," Luca grunted, clearly angry. He took your hand into his.

You shook your head. "He's a hero, believe me."

"How is he-?" Hondo asked, but was cut off by your guttural scream.

Deacon shook his head as he watched. "We need to get her out of here. Now."

The paramedics came in with their gurneys and attended to the bodies on the floor, but by the time it was decerned that they were beyond saving, everyone was busy and there was no room for you anywhere. Luca picked you up and carried you outside in hopes of finding an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital, but they were all tending to the injured who had run outside earlier.

Tan opened up the back doors of Black Betty and called out to Luca, ushering the team over. Street helped get you inside while Tan and Chris ran to the side doors to get in. Once you were laying on the floor, Luca behind you and holding you close, everyone else piled in and closed everything up, turning on the lights and sirens.

You were screaming the whole time, crying as it became too much. Your body was telling you to push and that was all you could think about doing. Luca was trying to soothe you, telling you that you would be at the hospital soon and that it would be okay. But your baby had other ideas, they had waited long enough.

"The baby's coming!" you cried out.

"We know, we're gonna-"

"No! Now! The baby's coming right now!"

You let out another scream as you pushed. Deacon slide onto the floor and pulled your legs up onto the seats on either side of you, pushing your dress away. He ripped your underwear to get a look at how things were progressing and then looked up at Luca, Street, and Hondo, "She's right. She's crowning."

Hondo called out to the front, "Tan, pull over!"

Luca held your hands as you rested you head back against his abdomen, crying as your body guided you. Everything you'd read and come to understand was nothing compared to the way your body told you what to do.

Black Betty came to a stop on the side of the road, but it only took three more powerful pushes that the ended the pressure. You ached, but the pain was lessened dramatically. You opened your eyes to see Deacon picking up your baby, who was a little chubby for a newborn and rather long, aka big like their daddy.

Deacon gently held them and patted their back, getting them to cry and clear their airways. He smiled at them and happily said, "Welcome to the world, Baby Luca."

Street rummaged around for anything to wrap the baby in, only for Chris to pass a fresh shirt to him from the front. He thanked her and helped Deacon wrap your little angel up to keep warm before they were laid on your chest. You took her, Luca's arm coming under yours to support you both.

"It's a girl," Deacon told you and you smiled. He smiled too, knowing that joy and pride well. "Congratulations."

Tan put Black Betty in gear and let everyone know he was going to start driving again, as you and your daughter needed to be taken to the hospital. After that, no one said anything. They just let you and Luca have your moment with your daughter.

Luca couldn't even speak. He had spent the day tirelessly trying to save hostages from a bad situation that only got worse as the minutes passed by, only to learn from Hondo that you were one of them minutes before they stormed in there. He ran to you as soon as he could and wanted to burn the robbers to the ground with how angry he was because you were caught in the middle of their idiocy. Then, as soon as he saw you were in labor, he was scared, too. However, now, all that stress and anger and fear was erased. You were safe in his arms with your daughter. He had a daughter! He was nothing my happy.

Street inevitably ruined the precious moment, but lightened it at the same time as he broke the silence. "I can't believe you gave birth in Black Betty."

The team didn't react until you laughed, which let them know they could laugh too.

"I'm just glad it wasn't in the bank," you said, the ache still in your heart for the people who were lost and the kid brother who had saved you. You looked at Hondo as you remembered him. "I wanna be there for Eric. He really did save those of us that he could."

Hondo didn't question you, because you were tired and hormonal and he knew you knew what you were talking about. He just nodded and said, "I'll talk to the DA, but for now, you just worry about that cutiepie you got, okay?"

"Okay," you said.

When you got to the hospital, you were taken to a room immediately. Not only because you were wheeled in with a baby in your arms, but because you had a team of S.W.A.T. officers escorting you. Luca went back with you and ensured you and your baby daughter were okay.

Despite being three and a half weeks early, she was healthy. She would need to stay a few extra days for observation, but that was okay with you. Both you and Luca wanted the best for her, so you knew she might need a little extra watching over because of her early arrival and the stress you were under, and you needed to recover as well. It would work out, you were sure.

Once that was cleared up, Luca sat beside you with your daughter asleep in her basinet at your bedside. He watched her with nothing but love in his eyes. He'd only been talking about how excited he was for her to 'hurry up and get here' in the months leading up to this moment. He hadn't cared if she were a boy or a girl, as you'd left finding out to be a surprise at the birth, because he was going to love his kid no matter what. You knew he was going to be an amazing father.

You watched him, tired as all hell, but couldn't fall asleep. Even after the day you'd had, you laid awake on some pain killers with a soft smile on your lips. "I love you."

Luca turned to you and chuckled. "I love you, too." He reached out for your hand and squeezed it gently. "You are the most amazing woman I've ever met, you know that?"

"You only tell me that at least once a day," you laughed softly, careful not to wake your sleeping angel.

"Well, I mean it so much this time," he told you, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. "You're so strong and smart and brave. What you went through today was a lot and you powered through it like a champ. And you see the good in people even in situations when it's hard to see anything but bad."

"What can I say?" you asked, not really sure what there was to say. You just read the situation like it was. And it helped you and several other people get through it. "I'm just a woman."

"Nah, you're more than that," he said and leaned in closer, kissing your head. Your eyes closed and this time they were too heavy to lift back open. "You're Superwoman."

"If you say so," you mumbled. You then fell into a dreamless sleep, getting the much needed rest your deserved.

Lowkey, I'm now attached to the backstory I accidentally gave Bobby, Ghoul, and Eric, so here it is if anyone cares. Bobby, Ghoul - who's real name is Terry, and Eric were born in a less than ideal home. Raised by a worked to the bone mother and a father who had lengthy arrest record, they were doomed from the start. Bobby and Terry were closer in age to each other than either of them were to Eric, often getting into trouble and leaving him out. When they weren't getting suspended from school, they were pushing Eric around metaphorically and literally. They would often use Eric as a punching bag when they weren't getting into fights with each other. They mother wasn't around a lot as she worked multiple jobs to keep a roof over their heads. When she was around, she was frustrated and tired, often getting angry at them for little problems like leaving their shoes out for her to trip over and bigger issues like getting kicked out of school. Their father was in and out of jail for most of their lives, but when he was around, he taught them how to shoot, steal, and hot wire cars. Averse to these activities, Eric was once again the odd one out and often the target of his brothers' criticism. Their father often got drunk and ranted to his sons about his drawbacks in life, often blaming others. Due to this unstable environment, it was no wonder the brothers turned out the way they did. Bobby followed in their father's footsteps, often helping their old man with his criminal endeavors when he could. After their father's untimely death at the hands of a homeowner protecting himself after he broke into the house, Bobby was angry. He went on a bend of drinking and crime, ending him up in jail where he made friends. Once he was out, he started robbing houses and small business. Terry at least finished high school and got a job as a mechanic, which was stable enough for a while. He started to doing shotty work for cheap and got fired once his boss found out. He did a number of odd jobs after that. Eric was on the right track but couldn't catch a break. With a grant, he was able to start college but had to leave after his mother became ill. He was almost done with college when he dropped out to take care of her, but it was fruitless. He didn't blame his mom but rather the bad hand life had dealt him, but didn't grow very bitter. He got a shitty job and went about his life. However, their mother's death is what brought the brothers back together. It was several months after the funeral that Bobby came around with the idea to rob a bank. Terry was crashing on Eric's couch at the time and liked the idea, immediately liking the idea of free money and getting to go anywhere they wanted. The two oldest brothers talked Eric into it, telling him they could go live their dream lives and get out of the shambles they called a life. Plus, they were brothers, the only family he had left, was he really gonna left them do it alone?

And yeah, that's what I got for the bank robbing brothers. If it doesn't make any sense, I came up with all of this over the span of 8 hours and little to no sleep.

[brinleyparke]

Luca: What's a word that's a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Deacon: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated, ...

Street: Smad.

[bullet-prooflove]

Reputation - Donovan Rocker x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @oliviah-25 @luckyladycreator2 @crazy4chickennuggets @one-sweet-gubler @janeaustenlover @victoriajhyde @telepathay @genius2050 @irishavengersassemble @crimeshowjunkie

Rocker knows you have a reputation. You’re a good girl, one that follows orders with precision, who always play it safe. In the field no one has to worry about you, you’re solid and dedicated, loyal to a fault. You haven’t got a rebellious bone in your body, at least that’s what they thought.  

They didn’t know you the way he did. They haven’t seen that reckless side of you, the one that comes out to play in the depths of the night, they didn’t know you’re secret.

Rocker discovered it by accident. He’d been listless after the divorce, instead of hitting the same old places he wanted something fresh. That’s how he’d come across Noche, a club known for its ambience and music scene. It wasn’t like the other clubs in L.A with the booming beats that makes your skull throb, it’s dark, a hole in the wall shrouded in mystery and the perfect place for him to disappear for an hour or two.

He’d been on his way home after having a couple of beers with Stevens when he heard the serenade of a violin. He wasn’t into classical pieces but the music he was hearing was an entanglement of soft rock, something more his speed. The notes tapered over the drums, touching something deep down inside of him. He was enthralled by it, ensnared. He found himself seated at the bar, another beer in his hand, his attention drawn to the stage. His gaze came to fall on the violinist, head cradled against the instrument, and it was like he had been struck by lightning.

He knew it was you, he would know your stance, your movement, your posture anywhere. You wore a black sheer Victorian style top, with a high collar and long sleeves with a lace bralette underneath. It accentuated your body, showcasing the lines of your form as you swayed in time to the music. The leather trousers clung to your lower body as your hips swung from side to side. It was the first time he’d seen you with your hair down, normally you wore it in a plait or a tight bun but tonight it was gloriously loose. He wondered what it would feel like to run his hands through it, to kiss you on the mouth and smear that red lipstick you wore. Your eyes, always so expressive were framed with dark eyeliner, making you look just as dangerous as he knew you were.

You up on that stage right now, was the sexiest thing damn thing he had ever seen.

The way you played, it was dynamic and passionate. A sensual experience and he couldn’t tear himself away. He had no idea what you did after work, you played your cards close to your chest but he had never expected anything like this. He’d always had an affinity for the darker side of things, his marriage to Val had been pretty vanilla. The two of them had been college sweethearts but there were things he’d wanted to try, things he knew didn’t fit into her puritan view of sex.

He doesn’t realise you’ve noticed him until you appear alongside of him at the bar. Your set is over and he’s been toying with the idea of approaching you or simply slipping out when your hip bumps against his. The sultry scent of your perfume clings to your skin and it just adds to the allure.

“I didn’t think you saw me.” He says to you as you tilt you head towards him.

“You’re a striking man.” You inform him, taking a sip of your water.

He blushes, he can’t help it. No one has ever said that to him, Val used to call him her prince, it reminded of something out of Disney. The way those words roll off your lips, especially the term striking, it does something to him. He isn’t used to this side of you but he likes it.

“You wanna get out of here?” he ventures.

You smile, before tossing your hair back over your shoulder and giving him a look that makes him weak in the knees.

“Are you hitting on me Sergeant?” You ask him.

“How about we drop the titles for tonight?” He requests, setting his beer bottle down on the bar.

That reputation you have as a good girl, it completely goes out of the window. You ruin him that night, with an inquisitive mouth and fingertips that trail over his scars as your thighs hug his hips. You keep him on the cusp, drawing out his ecstasy until his fists grip the sheets and he begs you to let him come.

Not until I do, you had whispered in his ear.

Fuck he’d never had a woman straddle his face before, it was something he had always wanted to try but Val had never been into it, but you…

He had lost his mind when he got his mouth on you, you tasted like candied honey on his tongue, he’d taken you apart slowly, learning what you liked, what made you say his name. You liked it when his tongue delved deep, his palms grasping your thighs to hold you in place. When you climaxed, he didn’t want to stop, he sucks your clit before pinning you against his mouth and ruining you all over again. When he makes you come for a third time, he’s deep inside of you, his fingers threading through your hair as he grips it in his fist and pulls your head back so he can stare into your eyes. There’s intimacy in the eye contact and he watches your face, your lips parting as he makes you say his name.

The next morning, he wakes up alone, tangled up in his sheets with your lipstick marks decorating his skin. He sees you in work and it’s like it never happened, like he doesn’t know you sound like at the height of pleasure or how sinful that mouth of yours really is.

That night he turns up at Noche again, he sees you there up on that stage. You are a force to be reckoned with, a wildfire, untamed and untethered as you play, and he drinks it in. There’s an erotism to what you do, and it taps into something deep down inside of him. He’s like a moth to a flame, he can’t stay away, he doesn’t want to. Instead he clings to the nights that he has you, the ones where you’re his and only his.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[kaenbl4ze]

The more SWAT!Buck I want, the more SWAT!Buck you get. And boy do I love this crossover, so here's another sketch!

[thecallthatchangemydestiny]

DOMINIC LUCA ONE-SHOT

-I don’t think this is a good idea- said Jessica Cortez to her friend

-it’s our only chance- said Maya - plus… I like dancing- Jessica sighted, indeed it was the only way to take down the Russian gang down. The plan was simple, Maya going to the strip club, making the boss ask for a private dance and making him talk.

-Okay, you’re going tomorrow-

-everything is going to be fine- said Maya with a big smile-well I’m going to set everything, see you tomorrow- Maya leave the place while Jessica called her SWAT team.

-Hondo, Luca you’re staying with her as the “bodyguards” if she says bring me the wine is the safe word to attack.-Luca an Hondo hesitated, Maya has never been in action before so they feel nervous about this whole operation. -Deac, Tan, Chris and Street are going to stay outside waiting for your signal to enter Hondo.-

-Okay, let’s get ready- said Hondo watching Luca, and everybody left the room.

•The next day•

-I’m ready- said Maya entering the room with a beautiful (and short) gold dress, her beautiful long hair was loose and her makeup was just sparkling… all of her looked like gold. All the eyes where on her but she didn’t even notice, all her focus was on the operation.

-Okay remember Maya- said Hondo in his bodyguard disguise -you’re Ramona, the star of the strip club and you hire Rooster and Gene as your bodyguards- Maya said yes with your head, she notice how Luca was silent looking at her, he seemed nervous but she couldn’t get why, he was always excited and ready for a mission.

-Yes Gene, don’t worry- Maya winked her eye at both of them- let’s get going, my show is about to start!-

-I’ll be fine- said maya behind the stage with her mic on so Luca and Hondo could hear-I got you guys taking care of me, nothing could go wrong.- with that said Luca smiled.

-And now the star of our show…- began to said the owner of the club

-Okay he’s in the first row- began to said Luca to the mic -white as a ghost, red suit and the ugliest face I’ve ever seen- Maya laughed, she feel relived now that Luca was more calm.

-RAMONA- and with that said, Maya enter the stage dancing, she could feel the lust eyes of Sergej, the Russian, all over her body.

-Hey Luca, when I said eyes on her all the time I don’t meant like THAT- Hondo laughed while looking at Luca, who couldn’t care less about what Hondo was saying, he was only looking at her. But the ones out the strip waiting for Hondo signal where laughing imagining the scene.

-Excuse me, are you Ramona’s bodyguard?- said a guy approaching Luca, who returned to his reality

-Yes, me and my friend Gene over there- said Luca in a serious tone pointing at Hondo who was across the room.

-Good, my boss would like a private time with her- Luca had mixed feelings, happy because everything was going as planned but angry and nervous of that man being too close to Maya.

-Absolutely, do you have the money to pay her private time?

-Of course with do- said that man with a funny tone, making fun of that question.

-Come with us- said Luca and he took the man and Sergej to the room where Maya was.

-You’re absolutely beautiful- said Sergej with a really strong Russian accent and an evil smile -and you’re dance was spectacular!- Maya give a fake smile, but yet, a nice one so Sergej didn’t even notice it wasn’t sincere.

-thank you sir.- Maya begin to say with a flirty tone of voice -you’re too kind.- the Russian bodyguard was near Luca and Hondo who were in front of the door watching the whole interaction, but Luca was more focus on her.

-I want you to be my partner, my girlfriend- said the Russian man to her, she was surprised, she wasn’t expecting that preposition - You’re beautiful and I’m going to give you everything you want, you can leave thin place forever.- Luca and Hondo looked at Maya, who was analyzing what to say

-do you know how many man have told me that they’re going to take me out of here?- said Maya getting closer to Sergej -How can I know you’re telling the truth?-

-Tell your bodyguards to leave- said the Russian pointing Hondo and Luca -and I’ll tell you- Luca was worried, and very angry ¿why he wanted them to leave? ¿What if he does something to her?

-Fine- said Maya looking at Luca -but tell also your man to leave- and with that said, Sergej said something in Russian and his man got out the room. -Rooster, Gene- continue Maya -please also leave- Hondo leave but Luca stay a little bit longer, looking at her, promising to himself to always take care of her. And just then, he left the room.-

A few minutes had passed but from outside the room nothing could be heard.

-stop going around so many times, you’re going to make me dizzy- said Hondo looking how Luca was nervously going around

-Sorry man, I’m just nervous- said Luca standing in front of him -I don’t like the silence-

-I know, but everything is going fine, so don’t worry- Luca smiled a little bit

-Rooster, Gene- shouted Maya -Can you bring the wine, please?- Luca and Hondo looked at each other, that was the sign.

-Bring the wine to the star- said Hondo to the mic, for Deac and the other squad to hear. -Let’s go- and with that said, Hondo run to room and shouted -LAPD EVERYBODY TO THE GROUND- the Russian man take out the gun and began to shoot Luca and Hondo, while Sergej punched Maya and took her pointing a gun to her head. Hondo took down the Russian, and Luca looked at Maya.

-Let her go- said Luca furious pointing with his gun at Sergej -NOW- Maya stomped her foot hard with her heel, making the other man shout with pain while Luca shoot him in the shoulder and taking Maya into his arms.

-Hey Rooster- said Maya getting closer to Luca, she was in the doctor the whole night because of the injuries Sergej left to Maya after the hit he gave her, Luca stayed at the hospital waiting for her.

-Hey! Maya- Luca hugged her, he was worried about her -how are you feeling?-

-better, we got him, that’s all that matters- and she have him a huge and beautiful smile.

-I was worried about you.-

-I know-

-how do you know that?- said Luca funny

-You’ve got your mic on this whole time- and then his smile disappeared, she could hear how he admitted to Chris and Street his mad crush on her, how Hondo make fun of him and how obvious he was… his whole face got red while Maya laughed with tenderness.

-Maya… I’m so sorry, I didn’t…- and than she interrupted him with a kiss.-

-I had a big mad crush on you too-

[streakyglasses]

salvation is coming in the morning

Chris's phone is almost dead, her keys are nowhere to be found, and all she can see is a sign that says Sunset Drive Inn. She considers her options before calling the one person who she knows, really, was the only option.

In the wake of Erika's death, Chris isn't doing well. Street helps.

S.W.A.T. (2017)

TW: anxiety attacks, mentions of drinking

Relationships: Chris Alonso & Jim Street

Other: hurt/comfort, post 4x08, tenderness, developing relationship

Read on ao3 here (registered users only)

or under the cut

The first thing Chris feels when she wakes up is the worsening pounding against her forehead. She groans against the pain, her hand reaching out to grasp her phone. Panic reels through her when she realizes not only can she not find it, but the sheets twisted around her aren’t her own. 

Opening her eyes, she immediately has to blink back against the sunlight streaming through the broken slats in the blinds. The yellow-orange walls are in sharp contrast to the gray of her bedroom. She holds the scratchy covers over her chest as she raises up onto her elbow enough to gather that no one else is in the room with her. 

Anymore, she thinks, trying to ignore the anxiety that fills her up. 

Luckily, she’s jolted from her thoughts by the sight of her phone on the ground. Flipping it over, she exhales and lets her shoulders drop when there’s some battery left. Not a lot, but enough to give her the motivation to get up and collect her clothes. She considers a shower once she’s gotten them in a wrinkled pile in her arms on her way to the bathroom, but decides against it when she catches a glance of herself in the dirty mirror. 

Dark circles stand out against the dullness of her skin, and the eyeliner that’s been applied over for days now is too smudged to be fixed. She doesn’t let her eyes travel further south than her collarbone, but even still red scratch marks are visible rounding over her shoulders. A vague memory of someone’s arms lifting her up as their beer-soaked lips met hers floats across her mind. The feeling of nails dragging against her skin as her back met the wall with a thud makes her wince, knowing that there has to be bruising from last night and the nights before that will soon make an appearance if it hasn’t already. 

Just get out of here. 

She pulls her clothes on as quickly as she can. When she finds her shoes, she’s thankful that she had enough forethought to opt for boots instead of heels, because trying to manage that at— whatever time it is— would only make matters worse. It takes another minute of hunting around before she finds her purse sticking out from under the bed, wallet and contents intact, but no keys. More panic starts to chip away at her and she reminds herself to take deep breaths as she tries to think back to the last place she was. 

All she can remember is a dimly-lit room with exposed brick and lights, which could be any bar within a twenty-mile radius. A bright yellow sticky-note catches her eye, but all it contains is the scrawl of a stranger, without any hint as to where said stranger may have come from. Though, if they didn’t take her money, they probably didn’t take her pickup. 

Braving a look through the blind confirms that her truck isn’t in the parking lot. A sinking feeling settles on her stomach now that she knows she’s effectively trapped. The small clock on the table reads 6 am, and she’s thankful for a moment that her job has conditioned her to wake up so early and that whoever she was with evidently functions the same way. Her phone is at a whopping 18% and she considers her options before calling the one person who she knows, really, was the only option. 

“Hello?”

Her breath catches at the sound of Street’s voice, and her mouth opens but no sound escapes.

“Hello? Chris? Are you okay?”

She clears her throat and tries to keep her voice from thickening with tears when she speaks. 

“Yeah,” she says, though it’s quiet and crackles with uncertainty. 

“Yeah. I- yes. Promise you won’t judge me?” She starts again. 

Her hand shakes and she bites her lip as she waits for his response. She thinks if she grips her phone any tighter, it will snap in half, but her grip loosens at his voice. 

“I may mock, but I never judge. What’s up?” She can tell that concern is creeping into his voice, and it pains her to know that not only is this affecting the rest of her team, but that Street’s the one of them who won’t let it lie.

“I’m at a motel— the Sunset Drive Inn. Room 14. I don’t have my keys, and I’m not sure where my truck is. Can you give me a ride?” 

There’s silence on the other end of the line. It only lasts a moment but it feels like it drags on for a lifetime as she waits for him to process. Her mouth opens to say something, anything else to fill the space, but before she can, he’s talking without an inch of doubt in his tone. 

“I’ll be there in thirty.” 

He doesn’t ask any more questions or demand any information, filled with an overwhelming need to see that she’s really okay. He brushes Luca off with a quick excuse before grabbing his keys and his bike helmet and hitting the road. 

------------

Chris sits on the edge of the bed while she waits. She checks all of her banking apps until she has a short list of where her truck could be, and then lets her phone sit face-down next to her to save the battery. Her eyes travel the wallpaper, taking note of how it’s peeling away at the corners of the walls and warping the pattern. Bouncing her leg helps ease some of her anxiety, but it buzzes throughout her whole body as she tries not to tear herself apart for something that’s too late to change now. 

For all the things she’s done in recent memory that are too late to change now. 

The tightness in her chest grows and makes it harder for her to breathe. She clenches her jaw in response, trying in vain to remain in control against the guilt that threatens to swallow her. She digs her nails into her palms to keep the tears at bay until a knock at the door jars her back to the present. 

“Chris? It’s me.” Street’s voice passes through the thin wooden door to her ears and it’s like, all of a sudden, she can breathe again, like the world has stopped crumbling beneath her feet. Any semblance of composure leaves her as she crosses to the door in a few short steps and rips it open. 

Chris steps back to give Street room to enter and he bumps the door closed with his foot. Her instinct tells her to wrap her arms around him as tight as she can, but she stops herself. In his hand are two coffee cups, one of which he hands to her with a small, if scrutinizing, smile. 

“Figured you might need it. Your usual, just not iced.” 

She nods, too in shock to be able to say anything, and lets the burn of the coffee sit on her tongue for a second too long before swallowing. 

“Thank you.” She whispers, leaving her gaze locked on the brown plastic lid even though she can feel Street’s eyes on her. In her periphery, she sees his hand come up, like he wants to rest it on her shoulder, but he freezes when she jerks away. It’s involuntary, he can tell, though it sends a pang of hurt through him all the same.

He racks his brain for anything he can do or say to try to make her feel better, but she cuts him off. 

“I think I know where my truck is. A bar off 8th.” 

She still won’t meet his eyes, so he just nods and says okay. He turns and holds the door open, watching her double check her pockets for all her belongings before she skirts past him. 

“I’ll drive slow. Hang on.” He promises, though it holds none of the usual flirtatious undertones that make Chris roll her eyes and swat him on the shoulder. With nothing but another small nod, Chris climbs onto the back of the bike and wraps her arms around his torso. 

------------

“Oh, thank God.” Chris murmurs under her breath when she sees her pickup sitting in a now-nearly-empty lot. Once Street’s bike is parked next to it, she leaves him to load it into the bed while she reenters the bar. 

The smell of alcohol makes her nauseous, and the lighting brings more memories from the night flooding back to her. She shakes them off, searching over the heads of the few patrons until a tall, blond man smiles at her from behind the bar. 

“Let me grab your keys!” He says, with too much energy for the hour. She nods and walks to the cash register to meet him. 

“Alright,” he says, swirling the keys around his finger, “your tab was closed last night so you’re good to go. Be safe.” 

“Thank you.” She says. She maneuvers her way through the tables back through the doors where Street is waiting at her driver’s side door. Unlocking the truck, she tosses the keys over to him without a word. 

The radio hums low, and the cool window helps soothe her head on the drive back to her apartment. 

------------

“Thank you.” She says as she slides out of the truck. The world swims for just a second so she braces herself on the door while she finds her footing. Once she’s sure she isn’t going to be sick, she steels herself and starts to walk towards her apartment, knowing Street will follow. 

Her apartment feels cold when she walks through the doorway. She kicks off her boots and leaves them haphazard by the door. A glance at the clock tells her it’s just past 8, and a running timer until when her shift is supposed to start at 10 pops into her head. 

Like he can read her thoughts, Street speaks before Chris can even turn around. 

“You should call out. Take a day, get some rest.” 

“I’m fine.” Chris snaps, the words out of her mouth sooner than she can even process what she’s saying. Street sighs, which only serves to aggravate her further as her walls slam back up and the bit of alcohol that’s still in her system sparks like a forest fire. 

“You’re not.” Street says, his voice even and leaving no room for argument or bait to be taken. Chris tries anyway, the need to defend herself activating her fight or flight for the latter. 

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” She bites back. Her eyes narrow when she sees how Street bites the side of his cheek to keep from scoffing. 

“I just had to pick you up because you drank too much and ended up in a seedy motel.” 

It’s like a stab right through her stomach when he says it. Casually, like it’s the same kind of fact as saying the sky is blue, and she can’t help the tears that line her eyes even though her tone is as aggressive as ever. 

“And what happened to not judging?”

Searching her eyes for something, anything he can hold onto, he softens when he sees the pain that’s behind her hardened gaze. He takes another step towards her. 

“I’m not judging. I’m just worried, Chris, and you know if our roles were reversed, which they have been, you’d be telling me to take a day, too.” 

Her only response is to look away as his words hit her and more tears start to swell. 

“Call out. Take a shower and get some rest, okay? I’ll vouch for you.” 

“Okay,” she starts, and then a different fear grips her. 

“Luca? Was he, does—?”

“He was awake when you called, but he didn’t hear anything. I’m sure he’s also just concerned. I’ll tell them it’s a bug.”

She can see them asking questions and poking holes in his excuse now, but is too tired to try to come up with a better solution, so she nods. 

“Okay. Thank you, Street.” 

He smiles, dimples prominent even in the dim light, and takes another step towards her, opening his arms slightly. Waiting until she gives him the okay, he hugs her close to him and runs a hand down her back a few times before pulling back to arm's length. 

“It’ll be okay, Chris. Go easy on yourself today, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she promises softly. She watches him go, turning back to give her one last glance before softly shutting her door, and then she sighs. Like the rest of her energy has been drained from her, she slumps against the wall and then slides down until she’s sitting on the ground. 

She doesn’t know how long she sits on the ground, nor does she remember opening her phone to text Hondo that she’d be out. Once she’s able to bring herself to stand, she plugs the device in and pours a shot of the vodka in the freezer, downing it without a second thought. 

Just to take the edge off, she tells herself. 

The mirror has fogged with shower steam before she moves to strip and step into the stream. Doing everything in her power to avoid looking at herself, knowing she’ll only look more unrecognizable since the motel bathroom only a few hours ago, she washes off the remnants of the prior night with the hottest water she can stand. 

Whatever relief the hot water provided for the agony reverberating in her skull fades away as soon as she turns it off. Sighing, Chris grabs the first thing she gets her hands on out of her drawer, and buries herself in bed. 

------------

It’s nearly 8pm when Chris wakes up for longer than a few minutes, but the paralyzing despair she’s felt every time she’s opened her eyes is still present. She knows she has a stream of texts waiting for her, able to hear the ding of her phone, though the thought of venturing down the hallway feels like a lead weight on her chest keeping her stuck in bed. 

Erika’s belongings are gone, have long since been packed by Chris on a day she tries not to remember and picked up by Erika’s sister, but the memory of Erika, of what was supposed to be, permeates every common space. The couch has been delivered, but Chris hasn’t been able to sit on or pull up the painter’s tape outline on the floor of where it was to be set. Even the few photos of the pair that belonged to Chris seem to stare into her whenever she leaves her room, filling her with guilt that she has the audacity to continue to live in a space that she feels directly responsible for ruining. 

It eats away at her, morphing into a panic that’s so loud it’s the only thing she can focus on. 

Her heart beats against her chest like rising water against a dam, and she can’t keep her eyes open long enough to dispel the images that cross her mind when she closes them. Her hands twist in the sheets, gripping at them with white knuckles as she tries to draw in a full breath. The realization that she can’t only serves to make her more panicked, until she shoots out of bed and runs to the island for her phone— memories be damned. 

She’s just finished punching in his number when reality hits her. 

Calling him now will only make the team more worried. 

She sighs, but is grateful for the single moment of sanity that has her opening her texts instead. His name sits near the top. 

‘Will you come over after shift?’ 

She hardly waits five minutes for a response. 

‘As soon as I get off.’ 

She exhales. The microwave clock tells her half an hour has passed, meaning she realistically has another two before he knocks on her door. Throwing on sneakers, Chris grabs her keys from the countertop and lets the door slam shut behind her.  

------------

“Chris?”

A knock at the door startles her, same as the morning, and she takes a sip of her water as she pulls herself off the couch to answer. 

“Hey.” She says as she opens the door, sticking her hands in her pockets to hide their slight shake. 

“Hey.” He gives her a small smile and finds his keys a place on the hook. “So, what did you—- Oh!”

He’s cut off by her arms wrapping around his torso. On instinct, his body returns the gesture, one hand gently cradling the back of her head.

His surprise quickly turns to concern when he feels how her shoulders are shaking underneath him, paired with soft sniffles. When he tries to take a step backward, he’s met with her grip tightening and a shake of her head.

“Don’t, please,” she pleads, voice ragged. It’s enough to make his heart break and he shushes her.

“Okay, it’s okay.” He soothes her. She pushes even closer to him. His leather jacket is cool under her hands as her fingers claw at the steadiness of his shoulders. Her sobs heighten past the point of being able to understand his comforting words, and steal her ability to breathe. The more she tries, the worse her whimpering becomes. 

“Chris?” Street whispers, hearing the catch in her breathing. She shakes her head, her fingers digging into him even harder, and he swallows down his own panic. 

“C’mon, let’s sit down, okay?” 

Unable to speak, Chris nods, though her body won’t listen to commands to walk any more than it will a command to breathe. She’s afraid that if she lets him go, she’ll collapse. Feeling her freeze up, Street keeps his arms around her as he maneuvers them both to the couch. He takes her weight easily as she falls next to him, buries her face in his neck, and curls her knees up to her chest. 

Street feels her tears hot on his skin once they’re sitting, and it’s all he can do to keep running his hands up and down her arm and back and remind her to try to breathe. She pulls away from him the more stunted it becomes, her face in her hands. With one look at her shaking body, Street moves from sitting next to her to kneeling in front of her, his body wedged in between the couch and coffee table and his hands wrapped around her forearms. 

“Chris, you’ve got to breathe for me.” He pleads, his pitch rising in panic. He watches as her hands clench and open as she grasps for control of herself. 

“You’re safe, just breathe.”

 Her body jerks. His words sound like they’re traveling through water before they reach her so she can only make out pieces against the blood rushing through her ears. She tries to look up, to catch a glimpse of his face, but her vision is blurred and his eyes swim before her. 

“I can’t,” she finally chokes out. It’s hard to make out around the lump in her throat and her hyperventilating, but Street nods along to let her know he heard her. 

“Street, I can’t.”

She knows she sounds scared, because she is. Her chest is heaving, stars creeping into the corner of her eyes, and he sees her face go pale. With more urgency, Street pulls her arms away from her face to cradle it in his hands instead. 

Steadying his voice, he holds her still and looks into her eyes. 

“Yes you can. You’re safe, Chris, I promise.”

She shakes her head, hands again coming up like she’s going to shove him away, but he manages to catch her hand in one of his own before she can. Her grip is so tight he knows it’ll leave marks behind, but he doesn’t care. A glance at the clock tells him it’s been almost ten minutes since he arrived, and he wonders if she’s sat with this all day by herself.

“It’s almost over, Chris. Breathe.” 

High-pitched whimpers continue to escape as her body’s nervous system continues to catapult and plummet like a rollercoaster. He wipes away her tears with his thumb as they fall, and then caresses her cheekbone over-and-over.

After another few minutes of his gentle ministrations, the wall in her chest breaks, and the tears start to slow as her lungs fill with air. 

The world comes back into focus slowly. Her breathing is choppy, eyes squeezed shut out of fear, and Street’s touch on her is a lifeline. When she does open her eyes, he’s the first thing she sees. His face is also red, the remnants of tears long since quieted on his lashes, and her eyes flick down to see his hand in hers, the weight comforting on her lap. No one speaks as her body returns to itself, exhaustion and relief hitting her in equal parts. 

“Thank you,” she whispers a minute later, voice croaking. A soft smile comes to his face and warms her as much as his hand moving back to her cheek as her eyes flit around, uncertain. 

“No thanks necessary. Let me get you some water, okay?”

He waits for her nod to disentangle himself from his position on the floor. Rooting around her cabinets, he pulls out a glass for water and a small bottle of painkillers. Last, he grabs the box of tissues on the end table and sets them next to her on the couch. 

She holds the water in her mouth, letting the cool sensation touch every one of her nerves before swallowing, and when she does, she exhales as if to tell him again that she’s okay. 

He watches as she blows her nose and then dips another tissue into the water to wipe her face. Afterward, she takes another drink and then sighs. 

“How do you feel?” Street asks, bringing her attention back to him. 

Chris shrugs, but takes the time to take stock of her entire body. Her neck aches, her whole body aches, and each individual thread of her sweatshirt seems to rub her arms. Finally, she settles on, 

“Tired. But better.” 

He knows she doesn’t just mean in the physical sense, and nods. 

“I’m glad you feel better, I know everything has been a lot recently, for all of us.” 

She side eyes him like she wants to make a comment about how she’s the only one who just had an anxiety attack on the couch and can barely drag herself into work every morning, but she refrains. His hand on her arm is electric even through the fabric. 

“I’m not kidding, Chris. This is the hardest thing that’s happened to me since Nate. Everyone is grieving, you’re not alone.” 

He sighs when she shrugs again, trying to think of anything he can say to get through to her. 

“I used to have anxiety attacks too. A lot, actually, as a kid and all through the academy. Then with my mom, and after Nate. I told you earlier, no judgement. I mean that.” 

The gentle authenticity of his voice is almost too much. She curses the tears that are in her eyes again, and the way her voice cracks when she speaks. 

“I just feel like I failed her all the time.” 

Street is quick to pull her back into his side, an arm around her and running up and down her shoulder with his cheek resting on the top of her head. Her cries are less intense, made up more of whimpers than anything, and she’s able to stop them much quicker. 

“I’m so sorry, Chris. I promise you, you didn’t. And I know it may not mean much now, but no one blames you. Erika certainly wouldn’t.” 

Her head shakes, her hair tickling his cheek, like she wants to argue. 

“I was the reason—”

“Yeah. You brought Erika on to fill in, but you had no idea what was going to happen walking into that place. None of us did, and we all agreed to the risk. You didn’t give anyone those guns or do anything other than try to get Tan out safely. Erika’s death is a tragedy, but the only person who’s at fault is the man who shot her.” 

Somewhere throughout his monologue, Chris maneuvered herself out from under his arm to look at him. His hazel eyes are as sure as they’ve ever been, full of sadness but also life. 

“Can you please try to believe me?” 

His question cuts straight through to her heart. 

“It isn’t that easy.” 

“I know, trust me. But it gets easier, especially once you’re able to set aside the self-blame.”

“Negative rumination.” She mutters under her breath, all-too familiar with the term thanks to Wendy. He nods in understanding and takes her hand to squeeze it. 

“It’s not easy. But you’ve got to let go of a little bit of this weight before it tears you apart. The team can’t lose you. I can’t either.”

She’s shaking, she knows, and understands that everything is far from fixed or normal and she’s far from feeling okay, but a long-forgotten calmness seems to settle on her. It’s like, after weeks, the edge has finally been taken off. 

“Will you stay tonight?”

“Chris—”

“Not for— it doesn’t have to be the bedroom. I don’t care where. We can sleep on the couch and chair. I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep since I moved in. I can barely stand to be in here half the time.”

It all clicks at once. The hotels and the blacking out and the avoidance. He’s able to leave it at HQ, but the reality of what happened follows Chris home every day. He’s reminded of a series of stripped motorcycles and his own late night phone calls to her.

“Of course, I’ll stay.” 

She gives him a small, sad smile and squeezes his hand before standing. She picks up the tissues to toss them on her way to the bathroom, and he exhales when he hears the door close. 

New weight has settled on his chest, the want to help her and to keep the extent of this situation from the team, but so has new understanding.

While the water runs, he takes the liberty of cleaning up the rest of the table and tidying her kitchen so he feels useful. Looking down the hallway, her bedroom door is open and his gaze switches between the dim light on her headboard and the couch. Street takes stock of himself, his own emotions, and when the decision firmly lands in his gut, he follows it, and waits for her to open the bathroom door. 

“I just need to brush my teeth, and I don’t have pajamas, but…”

He isn’t sure how to say it, to voice his comfort with sharing a bed with her in a way that feels significantly more intimate than any sex he’s had. That, despite the issues within their own relationship, all of that feels secondary to just being together as people, as friends, helping one another feel safe and loved. Instead, she follows his gaze over her shoulder into her bedroom. 

“Okay.” She says softly. 

------------

“Hey,” he says as to not startle her when he enters the room. 

“Hey.”

She’s already under the covers, sweats traded for pajama shorts but the hoodie still in place. Her back is turned towards him as he undresses himself down to boxers and a white tee-shirt, and then flicks off the light and carefully slides into the bed so they’re facing one another. 

A mix of insecurity and uncertainty hits Street, broken by Chris’s voice. 

“Thank you again. I’m going to talk to Wendy tomorrow.” 

He smiles at her and lets his hand come up to brush the hair that’s fallen across her face and rest on her neck. 

“Good. I’ve seen her a lot lately.”

“The team didn’t ask any questions?” 

“Just if you were okay. I told them you weren’t feeling great, but you’d be okay. Nothing more than that.”

She looks like she wants to say something else, to thank him again or ask another question, but exhaustion is like an extra blanket on her and all she manages is a yawn. 

“Let’s get some sleep. Nate always used to say that ‘salvation is coming in the morning.’ I don’t know where he picked it up, but it was profound for a 12-year-old, and I remind myself of it even more often nowadays. I’ve found it’s usually true.” He promises, kissing her forehead and adjusting as she turns and presses her back against his chest. His hand is held tightly between hers, up to her chest. A few moments later, he spares a quick glance at the clock to see that it isn’t as late as he thought. When he feels the rest of her weight drop into the mattress and her breathing deepen, he closes his own eyes and waits for sleep. 

------------

Chris wakes up first, right as the sun is starting to rise, though she can’t tell with her curtains. Her body, mind, and soul are heavy, but lighter than before. A million questions float through her mind, a jumble of ones full of anxiety and guilt mixed with wondering about when she’ll see her family next. Taking a deep breath, she steadies her heartbeat and quiets the flood.

Focusing on nothing more than her own pulse, Street’s hand next to her chest where it was last night, and his breath even on her neck, she thinks that he’s right. 

Salvation is coming in the morning.

[uqmxa]

Why did NOBODY TELL ME how FINE shemar moore is in criminal minds. Like hondo baby you was a BOMBSHELL

[solesommerso]

yup I chose to be problematic today <3

tagging @blathannabeaga & @anne-is-obsessed bc y’all are the only swat ppl left I swear

[chosenimagines]

My desired ship for Luca

Since season 5 of SWAT finally arrived in Germany I searched my drafts for some SWAT ones before I start watching it and here we go  

If she’s not married or not married anymore Luca should end up with Kelly’s mom and there is nobody who can convince me to think any different

She loves how he treats Kelly, Kelly and Luca get along great and I feel a vibe between the mom and Luca

It isn’t much but let’s be for real. If fans can ship character who barely glanced at each other I can ship those two ^^

[luca-street-chris-deacon-rp]

Open Thread

Open to everyone - M/F

Relationship type - Friend, lover, spouse, colleague, ex partner.

Plot type - Drama, angst, smut with plot

Approved Kinks- Roleplay, objectication, breath play, knife play, BDSM, exhibitionism, scene play, dom and sub, sadism and machoism, edge play, CBT, impact play, rope bandage, fisting, pegging, orgasm control, dirty talk, nipple play, gags, praise kink, electrostimulation, whipping, wax play.

Plot - Luca has been secretly diagnosed with stomach cancer and he's decided that he's leaving SWAT and leaving LA, but he doesn't intend on telling anyone who is in his life. Convince him to stay and give him some hope because he may or may not get the treatment to fight it.

~~~~

Luca removed his bag from his locker and discreetly began removing the contents of his locker piece by piece so no one would notice, sighing softly as he jammed a few pictures into one of the pockets before zipping up the pocket. In a few weeks he would be gone and no one would know where he would end up because truthfully, he didn't know where he would end up. And since he was off the next day, he was planning on going home and getting shit faced drunk. Do drunk that he wouldn't be able to walk, talk or even think.

[dominiquelucalover]

Merry Christmas | David "Deacon" Kay x Fem!Reader

Summary: You intend to make the most out of your first Christmas with the Kay family after moving in.

CW: domestic, Christmas fluff

Wrapping presents Christmas Eve night and into the early hours of Christmas morning was fun if tiring, but you and Deacon managed to get through it all with smiles on your faces. What started off as a simple mission to make Christmas happen turned into realizing the two of you had over-compensated for the kids. Emptying the closet of hidden-away toys and other gifts had slowly turned into a temporary nightmare as you both realized you'd bought enough gifts for a small village, but you didn't blame each other. You couldn't.

It was the first Christmas you'd be spending with the Kay family as the kids' step-mother, which was a big deal. All you and Deacon wanted to do was make it extra special, especially since you worried it would remind the kids that Annie wasn't around anymore. You wanted them to have the best Christmas yet, and by extension give Deacon a great Christmas too.

So, as you pulled gifts from boxes and neatly wrapped them in colorful paper, using different colors for each kid to make things a little easier, you were having so much fun. Christmas music played lowly in the background so you wouldn't wake the children and you softly hummed along to get through the night. You hoped to get some sleep before Matthew or Lila woke up at the crack of dawn in an excitement that could only come around on Christmas morning.

However, Deacon was puzzled when he got to the end of his pile of jolly gifts. He held up a small rectangular box with his name written across the top. He took a glance over at you, wondering why you'd gotten him a watch when he didn't need one. However, no matter what, he thought it was sweet of you to get him anything at all. Of course he'd gotten you something, he hadn't forgotten something so important, but he didn't expect anything from you. You were already the greatest gift he could have gotten after his divorce; you loved him and his kids, which was all he needed.

"Here, you should wrap this," he said with a smile, passing it over to you.

You looked up to see what he was talking about and let your mouth fall open. "How did that get in there?"

You gently took it from him and looked at it, then handed it back to him. "You should open it now?"

"Are you sure?" he asked.

You looked at the clock beside the bed and grinned. "Yeah, it's Christmas after all."

He smiled, loving your cheerfulness and excitement for the holiday. He held the box and inspected it, pretending to think of what it could be, drawing a laugh from your beautiful lips. Then he opened the lid and stared down at what was inside.

It wasn't a watch.

It was a positive pregnancy test.

Your positive pregnancy test.

He stared at it for a moment before looking up at you, seeing your happy, hopeful smile. The two of you had never talked about having any kids. He had a house full when you moved in, so there seemed to be no reason to talk about it. However, when you got suspicious of your tender beasts and nausea, you had to consider the option that another pair of little feet could be running around the Kay home. You weren't opposed to the idea, it actually thrilled you.

You only hoped Deacon liked that idea as much as you did.

So, as you sat with your heart beating in your ears, you tried to read his expression as you sat together, most of the kids' presents wrapped and ready to put under the tree. It didn't take long for you to look into those beautiful brown eyes you've come to love so much and see how much he adored you.

"This is real?" he asked, almost in disbelief.

You grinned at his question and nodded. "Yeah... we're having a baby."

He got up and came over to you, swooping down to engulf you in a hug before you could even stand from your seat. His lips descended upon your face in fast, loving kisses that tickled your skin. You giggled softly, trying to remember that the children were asleep upstairs, but Deacon didn't seem to care. He gently lifted you up and held you close, pulling back only to cup your jaw and bring you into a passionate kiss. No words were needed to describe just how happy he was to enter another chapter in his life with you by his side: having another happy baby.

As he parted from your lips, he whispered, "I love you so much."

You smiled at him, holding his neck in your hands ever so gently. "I love you too. Merry Christmas, Deac."

His hand came down and caressed your belly, where your baby was growing. He couldn't contain his excitement, though he was tired, and kissed you again.

"Best Christmas ever," he mumbled against your lips.

@passionwillow I hope you enjoy this because honestly I wouldn't have written for Deacon if not for you; you inspire me :)

[brinleyparke]

Street, texting Hondo: *sends a voice message*

Hondo, texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent?

Street: No, don’t worry, just listen later.

*later*

Hondo: *presses play*

Street's voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

[tvthemesongs]

S.W.A.T. (2017) intro

[kaenbl4ze]

hell yeah hell yeah SWAT!Buck on the floor

too slow :( got hit :(