#swat imagine

[achilles-rage]

achilles-rage’s twelve days of christmas

day ten: sleigh ride (ft. donovan rocker)

summary: 20 squad and 50 squad compete to see who can decorate the best armoured vehicle, which proves difficult for you; torn between your team, and your boyfriend.

word count: 1.9k

series masterlist

a/n: i’m like 99% sure that they only have one armoured vehicle instead of two, but simply ignore that for plot purposes<3 i’m so sad this series is almost over it’s been so fun, and also christmas is almost here?? i still need to go shopping for gifts (oops lol). anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: allusions to smut but nothing insane, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

You love being on 20 squad. Hondo is a great team leader, and you love all your teammates dearly; you never have to wonder if they’ll have your back, they always do. It’s like a family; one that you’re extremely grateful to be part of.

The only downside about it, though, is the stupid rivalry your team has with 50 squad; your boyfriend’s team.

You know they don’t really hate each other, that it’s more of a healthy rivalry with no hard feelings between them. But, on occasions like this, it’s difficult to be in the middle of their silly competitions.

This year for the holidays, 20 squad and 50 squad have decided to have a competition on the best decorated armoured vehicle, and the winners will be decided by a local class coming for a field trip right before Christmas. This competition had been decided about a week prior to the date of their visit, and you haven’t heard of anything else since then.

At work, Hondo and Luca have been bouncing ideas off of you, and at home, Rocker has been trying to get you to spill some details about your team's plan. You usually love Christmas, but this competition is beginning to get on your last nerve.

Two nights before the class’s trip, you’re lying in bed with Rocker, both of you propped up on pillows as you read your book, and he continues to research Christmas decorations. You’ve tried to speak to him a few times, asking about his day, or telling him about various drama you heard about at work, but each time he had merely mumbled a quiet “mhm, wow.”

Finally, you huff and close your book, placing it on your bedside table before you get comfortable. You lay facing away from him and turn off your lamp, and when he continues to type away on his laptop, the noise and the light keeping you awake, you sit up quickly, eyes narrowed.

“Donovan.” you say sternly, shooting daggers into his back.

“What’s up, baby?” he murmurs sweetly, his eyes not daring to leave his laptop screen.

“Don’t you think you should get some sleep?” you ask, your voice coming out softer. He hums softly, waving his hand slightly as he mumbles that he just needs another minute. 

You huff, and continue to sit there, staring at his bare back for a minute or two. When you realize that he’s definitely not going to bed anytime soon, you figure that you’ll have to try something else to get his attention.

You move towards him, now sitting beside him, and just slightly behind him, leaning your chest against his arm as one of your hands runs down his chest.

“Maybe you should take a break, my love.” you purr, your lips just inches from his ear.

This action seems to stop him, just for a moment, and he looks ahead of him as if contemplating your suggestion.

“In a bit.” he finally says, eyes dropping back down to the various pictures across his screen with lights, garland, and tinsel.

Did he seriously just turn you down, you think? You let out an exasperated sigh, then without another word, you take your hand off of him and move away.

He’ll have to pay attention to you after this, you think.

You stand up beside the bed and pull your oversized shirt over your head, letting it drop to the bed beside you, then round the front of the bed, standing right in front of him.

You slowly crawl onto the bed and up towards him, a devilish look on your face as your tits sway with each movement. You move right up to his screen, your tits almost brushing against the top of it.

“You don’t think you need just a little break?” you ask suggestively, keeping your eyes on him as a smirk grows on your face. When he doesn’t flinch, you sit back on your knees, grabbing your tits and massaging them with your hands gently. “Something to take your mind off things?”

Your eyes narrow when Rocker’s eyes still don’t move up to you, like he’s in a trance, and you laugh in disbelief when you realize that not even this will get his attention. He has got to get his priorities straight.

Finally, you take the laptop from him and close it, quickly throwing it out of his reach before he can react. 

He finally looks up at you, eyes darting between your eyes and your tits, and the protest dies in his throat before it can make it up to his lips. He swallows, a small smirk forming on his face as he watches you continue to crawl up to him until you’re straddling his lap. His eyes are glued to your soft belly and your chest as they move with each movement, and suddenly, he’s laser focused on you.

“Okay, you’re turning me down now. This has officially gotten out of hand.” you say, keeping a teasing edge in your voice despite your growing frustration. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just- I really wanna win this thing. You guys win everything.” he tells you, a hint of insecurity laced in his voice as he massages your thick thighs. 

Your eyes soften at his words, and you sigh as you raise your hands up to cup his face. You run your thumbs along his skin, feeling the soft tickle of his stubble against your fingers, and you smile softly when you see him melt into your touch.

“This is really important to you, isn’t it?” you ask in a quiet voice. 

He nods quickly, the side of his lip quirking up in a slight smile.

“It is, I don’t know why. It’s not just winning, either. I wanna give the kids an awesome experience, I know the area the school is in, and I know a lot of those kid’s families don’t have the means to create a special holiday.” Your heart breaks at his words, and you can’t resist the urge to lean down and kiss him gently. 

Rocker tries to keep up a certain image at work, but you know that this is how he really is most of the time. At work, it’s all about beating 20 squad, but here, with you, it’s not really about that. Not completely, at least.

He meets your lips eagerly, one hand coming up to rest on the side of your neck as he guides you into the kiss, and the other gripping your thigh firmly. 

You finally break the kiss after a moment, eyes taking in his features as you think for a second. Then, you let out a heavy sigh. Your team would probably kill you if they heard what you’re about to tell Rocker; Luca most definitely would.

“Okay, fine. 20 squad’s plan is only focused on the outside of the truck. What if you decorated the inside of it, too? Blankets, lights, maybe some cookies or hot chocolate. Maybe Hicks would let you take them around the block in it, or something. But either way, they’d be able to get into the truck and be part of the magic.” you tell him, feeling increasingly guilty.

Your guilt disappears quickly when you see the grin erupt on Rocker’s face, however. He pulls you against him, hugging you tightly against his chest and definitely not focusing on your bare tits pressed against his chest as he kisses the top of your head.

“You’re a goddamn genius.” he mumbles against your skin, rocking you both back and forth as he hugs you. You giggle softly, rolling your eyes. 

You can’t believe you just guaranteed your own team’s loss just so you could see your boyfriend smile.

“And you can thank me by taking a little break, maybe do something to get your mind off things.” you repeat your words from earlier, raising a brow as you lean back and smirk down at him. 

He smirks as well, eyes roaming your bare skin, and letting a low groan escape his throat.

“Yes, ma’am.” he murmurs before crashing his lips to yours, then flipping you over on the bed and crawling on top of you eagerly.

The day of the class’s trip has finally come, and you and Rocker’s teams are placing final touches on your armoured vehicles before the students arrive. Chris and Street are fixing the wreath on the front of the truck, although from where you’re standing, it looks like Chris is fixing and Street is just standing there. Deacon, Tan, and Hondo are standing in front of Luca, rolling their eyes and laughing as he gives them last minute things to fix.

Finally, the kids arrive, and once they’ve had a tour of the inside of headquarters, you each take your turn showing them the vehicles. Your team goes first, Hondo taking the lead and showing them the lights and sirens, and how Luca had somehow found a guy to make the Christmas lights flicker in time with the police lights.

The kids love it, and you can’t help but smile as you watch their big smiles and wide eyes as they take in all the lights on the truck. All of them want a turn hitting the button for the lights and siren, and Hondo lets them, lining them up so they can all get a chance in the front seat.

Then, it’s 50 squad’s turn, and you watch with a warm smile as Rocker shows them around the truck almost the exact same as Hondo. 

He finally opens the back of the truck, revealing blankets, lights, and garland covering the entire back seat.

“And now, for a special treat, we all get to go in and go for a drive around the block!” he tells them with a smile, his eyes darting to you and giving you a quick wink. 

Your smile widens, and you’re glad that Hicks actually allowed Rocker to do this with the kids. It sort of makes you think about having your own children with Rocker someday, but you push the thought to the side, more focused on the care Rocker is putting into making a group of random children’s Christmases a little bit better.

“How did we not think of that!” Luca says with a huff, throwing his arms up in the air as you all stand in a group and watch the kids laugh and jump up and down excitedly. 

“I guess we’ll know for next time.” Street mumbles with a roll of his eyes, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.

You don’t say anything. You try to keep a straight face as Rocker holds the door open as the kids all climb in. Right before he closes the door, he turns to look at you again with an appreciative smile and mouths “i love you,” which doesn’t go unnoticed by Hondo and Deacon.

“What? Come on, you gave him that idea?” Hondo says, nudging your arm. The grin finally makes its way onto your face, and you shrug, trying desperately to stop the smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you reply with a slight shake of your head, and your teammates all groan. You even see Street making a fake throwing up sound.

“Oh, shut up. It was to help the kids.” you say, and they all groan again, rolling their eyes at your lovesick expression.

“More like one kid.” Luca mutters as he glares at Rocker, and you laugh, turning back and watching the armoured vehicle driving out of the parking lot as the lights and siren come to life.

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[violetflowerswrites]

Taking it Slow

Summary: An unexpected explosion severely injures you, and Jim Street, your LAPD SWAT roommate, comes to your rescue. The life and death situation makes you reevaluate the status of your “just casually dating” relationship.

Pairing: Jim Street x (Female) Reader

Disclaimer: Cannon violence and danger. Mentions of fire, explosions, and bombs. Location is an elementary school, mentions of danger to minors, but reader is the only one injured. Gruesome descriptions of bodily injury and blood. Some angst and mentions of divorce. BUT ALSO consensual kissing and touching. The smut in this is absolutely filthy as usual. Oral sex (female receiving). Consensual P in V sex. Street has a big cock. 18+ for explicit smut, violence, and language

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: I finally got around to watching more SWAT after taking a break from crime dramas and I gotta say, Season 4 has been SO good. The commentary on our Covid and post-Covid society especially with race and Black Lives Matter is so thoughtfully done. I was re-inspired to make a part 2 of my Jim Street fic from back in July 2022! This fic can be standalone but it is technically a continuation from “Too Complicated.” Enjoy!

Part One Here - “Too Complicated”

Part Three Here - “I’ll Be Here”

Masterlist Here

…

“All Units please respond, bomb at Harriet Tubman Elementary, repeat bomb and fire at Tubman Elementary.”

The police scanner radio squawks to life in the leather-scented interior of Sergeant Daniel “Hondo” Harrelson’s sliver Dodge Charger.

Hondo locks eyes with Jim Street, LAPD SWAT. His expression falls immediately, drawn and serious.

A school bombing?

Not on their watch.

”20 David, Sergeant Harrelson responding. Let’s roll!”

…

Your pink highlighter squeaks across the tiny Times New Roman text of each signature line on the paperwork you’re preparing.

A tightness in your neck forces you to pause and lean your head to the side, trying to release the tension in your body.

It’s another tough case. The student was expelled out of a previous school due to repeated fighting. His current teacher is young and inexperienced, and the counselor is definitely overwhelmed. You were called in to take over his case and then recommend him to a therapist, a behaviorist, a specialist, someone before he was expelled again.

Who knew that an 8 year old could wreak so much havoc at a school?

You glance out the window of the 2nd floor classroom, watching the poor kid get into a screaming match with a yard duty. The bright red digital display of the classroom clock shows 9:00 am in blinking lights that seem to say…

tick

tock

It’s

only

9

freakin

AM

on a Monday.

But, no one could have predicted what would happen in the next ten seconds.

One

A thunderous boom echoes across the playground, so loud that all the kids freeze, balls dropped and forgotten.

Two

Thousands of shards of shattered glass fly through the air as the school building collapses into itself from the roof downwards.

Three

The ear-splitting screech of the fire alarm forces everyone to cover their ears, eyes squeezed shut.

Four

Smoke rises in thick gray plumes into the sky, followed by bright orange flames.

Five

The stampede of three hundred little feet shakes the earth as panicked children run towards the grass field, away from their burning school.

Six

Bewildered shouts across the blacktop try to account for all the children, staff members still running out of the smoke.

Seven

Wide-eyed stares fill with tears as it dawns on the kids what had happened.

Eight

A dozen simultaneous calls to 911, all trying to be heard over the crying, screams, and shouts.

Nine

A terrifying pop pop pop makes everyone flinch and duck for cover, as the heat from the fire breaks even more windows. But it could have been gunshots. Everyone doesn’t dare to move.

Ten

After those ten, chaotic seconds, you finally open your dust-filled eyes, ears ringing, sounds muffled as if you were underwater, and your dazed mind takes several agonizing seconds to comprehend the scene around you.

Fallen desks and books scattered haphazardly across the classroom.

Shattered glass reflecting the flickering flames of a fire somewhere above you.

Looking up, a gaping hole in the ceiling leading to a smoke-stained blue sky.

The incessant blaring of the fire alarm doesn’t help your clearly concussed head make sense of it all.

You deduce that there had been some kind of accident. An explosion maybe.

And that caused an industrial AC unit to collapse through the ceiling, knock you out of your chair, and pin one of your legs from the waist down.

And now, an alarming pool of blood was starting to seep from under the crumpled gray metal.

Even more alarming, you couldn’t feel a thing underneath the crushing weight.

“Oh. I’m dying.” You huff out loud, your logical deduction giving way into dark humor.

You twist your neck around, the soreness long forgotten, and try to find something, anything, to help yourself survive.

You grab your cardigan, covered in drywall dust, and slip it under your upper thigh, tying the sleeves together as tight as it could possibly go. The makeshift tourniquet immediately soaks up your blood, turning the cream-colored yarn into a horrific deep red.

Bile rises in your throat as panic sets in, but you push it down, desperate to get out of this.

You look down, realizing that your phone fell out of the pocket of your jacket when you grabbed it. The screen is cracked, but usable.

Without hesitating, you press a number on your phone and it starts to ring. There’s only one person in the world you want to talk to before you lose consciousness. Maybe forever.

…

“Street! What do you think you’re doing?”

“What? You’ve never played in one of these as a kid?”

You’re out on another casual date with Jim Street, LAPD SWAT. Also known as your impulsive, annoying, immature, and absolutely adorable roommate.

That you had accidentally-on-purpose kissed one drunken night. Which led to much more…for several hours.

And now, the two of you went out most every weekend, casually dating, but not trying to label it…yet.

“Come on, Y/N! It’ll be fun!”

Street ducks into an arcade, which immediately deafens you with a cacophony of beeps and honks, electronic character voices, and techno dance music. It’s an overstimulating nightmare so you focus on the leather-clad back of Street, who is leading you deeper into the room.

A couple of surly teens throw judgemental side eyes at the two of you, grown-ass adults screaming and shouting at basketball, skew-ball, and claw machines.

You clutch a small blue plushie, from Lilo and Stitch, courtesy of Street’s claw machine skills, as he whoops upon seeing another game, his childhood favorite.

“Yes! We have to play this next!” Street grins at you from ear to ear.

You hesitate for a split second, but shake your head, chuckling, “Okay NASCAR, wait for me!”

You tease him, knowing that Street’s name is all too fitting, his long history of all things on wheels that can go faster than 100 miles per hour is well known.

You sit behind the plastic wheel of the racing game as Street quickly punches in a couple quarters.

“Think you can keep up?” Street teases you immediately.

“Mhm.” You reply, your face dead serious, all traces of amusement long gone.

Street takes in your expression and furrows his brow.

“Oh shit!” He exclaims as you leave him in the dust, your digital car screeching as the wheels fight against the tight turns.

You’re silent, the only sounds are the quiet clicking of your foot pressing on the fake gas pedals of the game.

Your car peels around the track, going into the final lap, with a 3 second lead on Street.

“Oh my god, are you seriously drifting?” Street shouts in frustration, watching your vehicle slide sideways against the last tight turn and across the finish line with a flourish.

He smacks the wheel and laughs.

“That was crazy, Y/N. I didn’t expect you to be so good! I thought you said you didn’t really go to arcades growing up.”

“Can we go home?” You grab your jacket from the armrest of the racing game chair, turning away from Street.

“Uhh…yeah sure.” Street says slowly, confused.

You walk quickly out of the arcade, a mix of frustration, shame, and sadness filling you.

Hands clench into fists at your sides as you suck in a shaky breath, trying to steady your whirlwind of emotion.

Street half-jogs to catch up with you, calling your name. He reaches out a hand to grab your wrist, but the instant he makes contact you snatch your arm back abruptly.

“Don’t touch me!” You snap, more harshly than you intended.

Street’s face flashes confusion, hurt, and a bit of anger all at once. You see him stifle the urge to snap back at you, and instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slumped down and he quietly pleads with you instead.

“Talk to me, Y/N. Don’t keep it in again.”

You know you’re acting like an asshole and ruining the date. Street surprised you with being the mature one in this situation while you’re the one taking out your emotions on him.

So you slowly reach out to take one of his hands in both of yours. It’s warm, heavy, and sure in your grasp, a reassuring anchor. You clutch his hand close to your chest and duck your head down, unable to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just tell me what’s going on. Please?”

“It’s just—I’m not used to opening up like this.”

“I know. We’re learning how to, with each other.” Street slips his free hand under your chin, lifting your head up to kiss you affectionately on the cheek.

“Take your time.”

You sigh into his touch, releasing some of the tightness in your chest.

“Can we get ice cream first?”

…

Over a double scoop of cookies and cream, you confide in Street more of your life story.

How there was a period of time in middle school where you used to spend hours at the arcade after school to avoid going home.

Your parents were fighting constantly and you just couldn’t take all the screaming. Your older sister was in high school and worked part time, so she would drop you off with a handful of quarters and get you after.

For some reason, that racing game became your focus, your obsession. You channeled all your frustration, all your hurt, all your pain into that game.

It was your escape.

“It feels silly to freak out now. It’s been well over a decade since I’ve played that game.” You mumble into your ice cream.

“It’s not silly,” Street reassures you, “It’s a painful part of your life.”

You scrunch up your nose and murmur in agreement, not really wanting to think about it anymore. You take another lick of your ice cream, accidentally getting some on your cheek.

Street reaches out with a finger to wipe the smudge of the sticky treat off your face and instead of cleaning his hands on a napkin, he decides to lick it off instead.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, the gesture unexpectedly sexy, but Street just chuckles.

“What? You taste good.”

…

You clutch Street by the collar of his leather jacket, slamming his broad back against the apartment door.

He drops the keys with a clatter, slides a free hand up to lock the door before gripping the back of your neck roughly, returning your desperate kiss.

“Y/N. Are you sure?” He releases your lips with a pant, pressing his forehead to yours and checking in with you.

Consent is so sexy, especially coming from him. Your previous boyfriends always took what they wanted, when they wanted, and you thought that’s how sex had to be.

It was only after being with Street that you realized how gentle, how considerate, and how trustworthy someone could be during sex.

Street treated you with respect, with reverence. He took his time to worship your body.

You were his queen, his goddess, and even if he didn’t say as much in words, he sure as hell showed it with his actions.

So yes.

You were fucking sure you wanted him.

You pulled off your clothes as you walked ahead of him towards your room, dropping fabric across the hallway on your way there.

Street followed quickly, stopping at the foot of your bed with his jeans still on. His chest visibly flushed red as he stared in wonder at your naked form. And he half-laughed, half-groaned out loud.

How did you manage to get your clothes off so quickly and look so damn delicious on the bed for him?

He grabs both of your ankles and drags you down, lifting them up above his shoulders so he can taste you.

You lean back on both elbows, your hair splayed across the sheets as you tip your head back in delight.

“Oh shit, that feels so good.” You breathe out, a moan slipping through your lips.

“Mmm, I can tell.” Street smiles into your pussy as he licks long strips up your core. He finds your clit within a few moments, and starts alternating sucking and licking the sensitive nub.

Your thighs start shaking as the stimulation shoots down your legs.

Street’s chin grows slick as your arousal throbs out of your core, but he simply holds down your thighs with his strong grip, and dives his tongue into your center even more.

It’s only when you spasm particularly hard, almost kicking him in the head that he finally releases you, chuckling as he swipes a thumb across his lips, wiping off some of your juices.

Your body is still twitching, your nerve endings shooting electricity from your core all the way down to your toes and you throw an arm back across your forehead, trying to recover.

“Come on, you can’t be done yet…” Street teases.

“Absolutely not.” You laugh out in a huff, “j-just…give me a minute.”

“Nah.”

Street lifts your legs again, this time crossing them behind his hips, so that he can line himself up to your entrance.

He pushes in slowly, but just the round head of his cock stretches your pussy to the point that you have to grab his arms and stop him.

“Hold on, Jim.”

Street freezes. You only call him by his first name when you’re being serious or something’s wrong.

He pulls out immediately and lifts you up into a sitting position. He immediately grabs your face in his hands, searching your eyes for pain.

“I’m so sorry, did I hurt you? We can stop— I didn’t mean to—“

You grip his wrists and gently remove them from your cheeks. Instead, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, your gaze at him soft and reassuring.

“I’m okay. Let’s try a different position.”

“Are you sure?”

You turn around, holding up your weight on your hands and knees, and spreading your hips back. You flip your hair over your shoulder and glance back at him with a smirk.

“You haven’t made me cum yet, have you?”

Slowly, Street’s concerned look spreads into a smile.

“No, I haven’t.”

“So fuck me.”

Street holds his cock steady while you carefully push back against him, controlling the pace.

When you’ve fully taken him in, now adjusted to his size, Street still hesitates.

“It’s okay. I’m ready now.” You brace yourself.

“Be as rough as you want.”

A sound akin to a growl escapes from the man who is balls deep in your pussy.

He places a bruising grip on your right shoulder and left hip, and slams you back, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

He does that again and again - pulling out almost all the way before slamming your body back against him almost violently.

“Oh fuck!” You yelp each time, your pussy throbbing around him.

Street then pushes your neck down, and you fist the sheets in your hands as you press into the bed, your ass in the air as he thrusts into you relentlessly.

You can hear your bottom smacking against his strong abs, as he swings his hips into you over and over.

And that cock, his huge, delicious cock, spears your pussy in just the right place every time.

“Oh my god, Street. That feels so good!” Your muffled voice can barely be heard over his grunting. God, you love it when men are loud during sex.

Before you know it, you’re close. Street must be too because he snakes a firm arm around your tummy and lifts you up, holding you tightly to his chest. Your core is still clenched in a vice grip around his member as he thrusts upward into your pussy.

“Street! Oh wow! You’re so big!” You praise him, feeling his cock hitting your cervix from his position.

“Yeah? You like it when my cock hits your pussy. Just. like. that?” Street punctuates his question with a hard bounce into you.

“Mmph!” You moan, and you grab his arm, still trapping you against his sweat-slicked body.

“Street,” you pant.

“Yeah?”

“Go faster.”

With a guttural groan, Street grabs the flesh around your hips and drills up into you. His cock drives in and out at a speed that could only be described as mechanical, a piston that pumps as deep as it could possibly go before pulling out and slamming back in as far as it can go.

You fall onto the bed again, unable to do anything but hold on far dear life as Street rails you like a rag doll.

Within seconds, you feel that familiar tingle spread from your core to your entire body, washing over you in waves of pleasure.

“Oh god— I’m cumming!” You scream, gasping for air.

You are answered with a growl as Street collapses on top of you, cumming inside your throbbing core, your pussy milking every last drop from his twitching cock.

Fuck, that was incredible.

After a few moments, you crawl out from under him, and stand up to head to the shower. He leans up on an elbow, watching you with a blissed-out smile. You tie your hair up into a messy bun, the simple action somehow sensual as hell as he sees your bare shoulder blades squeeze together as you reach up to your head.

You turn, catching him admiring you.

“What?” You ask, totally unaware.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your already hot skin somehow flushes even hotter at his words. You have a love-hate relationship with Street’s compliments.

So you just lean down and peck his cheek with kiss-puffed lips.

“Go to bed. We both have work tomorrow.” You whisper before pushing him back onto the mattress, shaking your head in laughter.

…

Your current reality is a universe away from yesterday’s date night with Jim Street.

You stare at his name on the phone, willing him to pick up.

“Y/N?”

Before you can explain to him, you hear the police radio in his car announce your school site and the bombing.

“Jim. I’m there.”

Street is speechless, the dots connecting with several torturous seconds as his worst fears become true.

One

You had told him that morning that you weren’t going into the office, but visiting a school today.

Two

You never call him, preferring to text. If it’s a call, something must be urgent.

Three

You almost never call him by his first name.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Hondo responds to the radio but Street barely hears it as he shouts into the phone.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“There’s been an explosion. A bomb? An AC unit fell through the roof. I’m trapped on the second floor.”

“Are you hurt?” Street repeats his question, desperation seeping into his tone.

Somehow you hesitate to tell him. So instead, you switch to video call and show him your leg.

Street’s eyes widen in horror as he sees the bloodied, crushed flesh.

Hondo glances at Street’s phone, his siren already screaming down the streets of LA.

“We’re coming.”

…

“You can’t keep me here, Hondo! Y/N is hurt, I have to get to her!”

“Street, you’re compromised. You’re gonna take risks and I can’t have you do that, not when there are kids here who need your head straight.”

Another sudden crash makes both men instinctually duck for cover. They had just arrived into a horror scene, with a blazing fire, fire trucks dousing the building with water, police holding back hysterical parents, ambulances treating kids and staff for smoke inhalation, and a soot-smeared principal talking to the fire marshal.

Hondo makes a beeline for her, Street on his heels.

“Sergeant Harrelson, LAPD SWAT. Is everyone accounted for?”

“Yes, all the kids and staff, but we’re missing one visitor, a social worker.”

Street chokes your name out, to which the principal nods, confirming that it’s you.

Meanwhile you breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Thank god everyone is safe.” You remark weakly, still on the phone, hearing their entire conversation.

Street is astonished you can think about others but his train of thought is interrupted when Chris in his comms crackles to life.

“There! I got eyes on the bomber! He’s on the roof, east side!”

“We have to go!” Street yells desperately.

“Okay.” Hondo huffs out, making a split second decision.

“Tan, go with Street and get Y/N out. Weapons hot, masks on, the bomber might run into the building. Deacon, you’re with me, let’s trap this rat.”

Street wastes no time running inside the smoke-filled building, his flashlight barely penetrating the ash and dust as he finds the stairs and runs up, Tan covering his back, sweeping his gun back and forth just in case the bomber decides to come their way.

“I’m coming, Y/N. Ten seconds out.” Street speaks into his comms, and his phone, for your benefit too.

But he doesn’t hear a reply.

“Shit!” Street curses. “She was losing a lot of blood, she’s not responding!”

Tan makes a game plan immediately as they keep running.

“I got the AC unit, you start CPR!” Tan shouts.

They skid to a stop at the destroyed classroom, and Street’s heart almost stops at the scene.

Your limp body, lying in a pool of dark blood, trapped under a giant hunk of metal, your phone still clutched in one hand.

Street kneels next to you, his own heartbeat reverberating loudly in his ears.

Thu-thump

He presses his fingers to your neck, feeling for a pulse while leaning down, trying to feel your breath on his face.

Thu-thump

Nothing. He immediately rips his smoke mask off his face and breathes into your mouth.

Once. Twice.

Thu-thump

He braces his hands against your chest and pushes down forcefully, starting CPR compressions.

Thu-thump

With a grating screech of metal, Tan manages to tip the AC unit off of you, revealing your upper thigh soaked in blood and your leg clearly broken in at least two parts.

Thu-thump

Street barely glances down to look, focusing on bringing you back to life. He feels for a pulse again, finally feeling a weak heartbeat, but a heartbeat nonetheless.

“She’s stable! Let’s get out of here!” Street shouts, throwing his smoke mask back on, and another for you.

Tan has already tied your leg down into two splints, one for your thigh, and another for your calf and ankle.

“Ready!” Tan replies in a voice muffled by his smoke mask, wiping his blood soaked hands on his tactical pants and gripping his gun again.

Street lifts you up, carefully draping your injured leg over his forearm, and cradling your concussed head gently against his shoulder.

He flies down the steps, Tan covering his back.

“This is 25-David, Y/N is secured, coming out of the school now.” Tan communicates to the team.

The moment they step out onto the front lawn of the school, their comms crackle again.

“Don’t do it man, don’t!” Hondo yells out. He must have found the bomber.

“Second bomb!” Chris warns, just as another explosion on the far side of the school collapses the roof completely, burying the spot where you were just trapped, and taking the bomber along with it.

“Hondo! Deacon! Chris!” Tan shouts into comms. The two of them shield you from the debris, holding their breath as they wait for a reply.

After a few moments, they hear Hondo coughing into the radio.

“20-David. We’re okay, we’re coming down.”

Street and Tan breathe a sigh of relief, as the EMTs run up to the three of you, carefully putting you on a stretcher.

Streets hurries alongside them, and jumps up into the back of the ambulance, glancing back at Tan.

“Go!” Tan shouts at him. “I got it covered.”

The last thing Street sees as the doors close is Tan standing with his back illuminated by a school on fire, his hands hanging at his sides, bright red with your blood.

…

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

Vision blurry, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to focus and notice the late afternoon sun streaming through plastic blinds in a white-washed room.

A hospital room. That’s right, you were injured in an explosion at the elementary school, and your leg…

You looked down to see a full cast, from thigh to ankle, keeping your leg locked straight. A thin, polyester blanket covers the rest of your body.

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

The insistent vibrating of a phone turns your attention to where a sleeping Jim Street, still in full SWAT gear, rests his head on his folded arms in the empty space on your bedside. One of his hands holds yours gently, even as he dozes.

You slip your hand out from his warm grip and brush his hair back, still flecked with a bit of ash and dust from the rescue mission.

Your gaze softens as you look at his peaceful face. You must have worried him so much with the accident.

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

You see his phone lying on the table and you can just make out what it says.

5 missed calls from Hondo. 2 texts from Chris and Tan saying he missed the debriefing.

And currently, Commander Hicks is ringing, ready to ream his ass for being irresponsible, you’re sure of it.

“Street.” Your voice cracks. Clearing your throat, you try again, louder this time.

“Street!” You shake his shoulder insistently.

He shoots up, awake in an instant. “Y/N! You’re up!”

His eyes dart over your face, checking for any signs of pain.

“You’re in trouble.”

Street takes one look at his phone and mutters “Shit.” Without thinking, he presses a kiss to your clammy forehead and ducks out the door, phone pressed to his ear.

You bring a tentative hand up to your forehead, a lot dazed and a little shocked. The two of you haven’t really discussed the nature of your relationship after that weekend of crazy sex, trying to take it slow.

But it’s not every day that you get gruesomely injured and your hot as fuck roommate rescues you from near death.

As you hear Street’s muffled apologies outside of your hospital room, fuzzy memories start coming back to you.

White letters of a SWAT vest hovering over you as firm hands push down on your weakening heart.

Strong arms holding you up as you feel yourself being carried down a flight of stairs at a ridiculous speed.

The smell of smoke, and the unmistakable smell of Jim Street as he cradles your head into his chest, keeping you safe.

A warm hand never letting go of yours as sirens squeal in the ambulance, your consciousness fading in and out.

A reassuring voice, his voice, telling you that you’re alright, that you're safe.

“I got you, Y/N. I’m right here.”

Fuck taking it slow.

You’re not a girl who normally falls in love with a man in an uniform but damn. You sure as hell get it now.

The door opens with a quiet click and Jim Street steps back inside.

“Hey—“

“I love you.” It comes out a little louder than a whisper. ”I love you, Jim.”

Street's words die in his throat as his eyes widen. He crosses over to you in two strides and simply lifts up your chin so that he can press a kiss to your lips.

A desperate, urgent, love-filled kiss that says just how scared, just how terrified he was to lose you.

And just how much he loves you too.

….

[fluentmoviequoter]

Surety of Ghos-ti

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: You are held hostage, and Luca and his team have to save you and your baby.

Warnings: angst, violence, threats of homicide, comfort/fluff

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Hondo!” Luca calls as he enters SWAT HQ.

Hondo stands immediately, his eyes wide as he asks, “She’s in labor?”

“No, man, and she won’t be for a while,” Luca replies with a smile. “I thought I was supposed to be the nervous, jumpy one.”

“Give it a few more weeks,” Deacon interjects. “It gets easier after the first one, though.”

“We ain’t all like you, Deac,” Hondo teases. “What do ya need, Luca?”

“50 Squad’s serving a felony warrant with the Marshals in Santa Clarita, so Hicks wants us to be ready to pick up the slack.”

“They better not go to Magic Mountain without me,” Street grumbles from the other side of the room.

“Priorities, Street,” Deacon reminds him.

“Yeah, they’re sorted.”

“I have to be at the party supply store before they close at 9,” Chris says. “As long as our shift ends when it’s supposed to, I can let Rocker slide this one time.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Luca responds.

Chris turns to stare at Luca, and after a moment, he concedes and raises his hands. The team decided to throw you a baby shower, besides the one you had for friends and family, because you are part of 20 Squad, and you’ve gained another family. Luca expected Annie to be the one who took the reins of the shower. He has seen how well you and Chris get along, so he shouldn’t be surprised by her insistence on making the party perfect.

“When does she learn the gender?” Street asks. “If it’s a boy, Streeter has a nice ring to it.”

“They’re not going to set the kid up for failure before birth, my man,” Hondo calls.

“Her appointment was supposed to be today, but the doctor had to reschedule,” Luca answers. “She’s not sure she wants to know, though.”

“Chris works for a niece or nephew,” Chris points out.

Luca laughs, then remembers that Hicks asked him to review a new strategy with Hondo and, despite his preference to continue discussing you, he focuses on work.

Los Angeles has every kind of store you could ever need, but when a new handmade baby goods store opens a few miles from your place, you know you must visit. Luca is at work, you’ve done everything Chris allowed you to for the upcoming baby shower, and even though you’re 20 weeks pregnant, you’re restless. So, you gather your phone, wallet, and keys, then lock your front door and begin the short drive to the store.

The pastel blue façade welcomes you after you park, and you run your hand under your growing bump as you enter the store. A handwritten “Cash Only; Sorry!” sign is displayed on the counter, and you mentally thank yourself for asking Luca to take you to the bank over the weekend. He’s the best part of your life, the love of your life, and his insistence to help you prepare before giving birth has been a godsend.

“Hi!” a smiling employee calls. “Welcome in, let me know if you need anything!”

“Hello,” you reply. “Thank you. I’m just looking for now.”

“Awesome! There’s so much cute stuff in here, take your time.”

You smile, then trail your eyes around the store. It’s larger than it looked from the outside, and you decide to start in the back corner and work toward the front of the store. There’s a small cart return area at the front of the store, likely from the building’s past resident, now blocked off with a sign that says, “We got you, mamas. If you’re shopping alone and need assistance, let an employee know and we’ll keep your stuff behind the counter so you can relax and focus on finding the perfect items.”

As you reach the back of the store, there’s a corner filled with onesies and toes relating to parents’ jobs. A pair of pajamas catches your eye, embroidered with a police van that reminds you of Black Betty and “Relax, my dad is a police officer.” You lay it over your arm, then laugh at the one behind it. With both secured, you continue walking around the store. The employee from earlier checks in with you as you walk past and graciously offers to take the items from your arms and hold them behind the counter for you.

“Thank you,” you call as she uses a dry-erase marker to write your name on a plastic bin beneath the register.

“Of course!” she replies.

She waves to another employee, returning from somewhere, and you continue shopping. You look at some BPA-free bottles and specialty pacifiers rather than looking up when the bell over the door rings.

“Welcome in.”

You hear the strain in the cashier’s voice and shift your attention quickly, reaching for your phone when you see a man dressed in all black blocking the doorway. He puts his gloved hand against his hip as one of the women places her hand against the edge of the counter, her fingers underneath the lip. You assume she presses a panic button and stay behind a shelf as you click your screen to find Luca’s contact.

“Empty the register,” the man demands.

“Okay, okay,” one of the women mutters, opening the register and dumping a few bills and loose coins onto the counter.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“That’s all. We just took most of it to the bank, we only have enough to make change.”

“Open the safe!”

“Don’t have one.”

The man jerks his head to the side quickly, then pulls a black gun from his waistband. You forget about texting Luca and press the button to call him instead. The man pulls his black cap off, running his fingers through his hair. He turns toward you after his arm falls out of his peripheral view, suddenly aware of your presence.

“What are you doing over there?” he yells, aiming the gun at you.

You raise your hands quickly, but not before setting your phone behind a bottle on the shelf and praying Luca answers. “I was just shopping,” you answer as you step away from the shelf.

“Give me your money, too!”

You swallow as you pull your wallet out, then hand over the cash you have. The man holds the gun on you with one hand as he counts the money with the other. He sighs, then backs toward the door. He twists the lock until it clicks and flips the sign on the door to say Closed.

“This isn’t enough,” he says as if he’s having a normal conversation and not threatening lives over less than $500. “What are we going to do about that?”

“What about a bottle warmer?” Street asks, scrolling through a baby registry on his phone.

“Got one,” Luca answers without looking up. “I told her to make her own registry.”

“Towel warmer for Mom?”

“I bought her one,” Hicks interjects. When the team turns toward him, he shrugs and says, “New moms need comfort and new things, too.”

Luca smiles and shakes his head as his phone begins ringing. “Speaking of new moms,” he murmurs before answering the phone. Luca doesn’t hear anything, so he repeats your name several times. Just before he hangs up, he hears muffled speech.

“What’s up?” Tan asks, noticing the concern on Luca’s face.

Luca gestures for him to be quiet, places his phone on speaker, and turns it up.

“I was just shopping,” you say, your voice growing quieter like you’re stepping away from the phone.

“Give me your money, too!” a man yells.

Hondo reaches across Luca’s chest and mutes the microphone to ask, “Where is she?”

Keeping the phone call connected, Luca navigates to your contact and reads your current location so Street can type it into the computer.

“Home Grown Baby, it’s a handmade baby goods store,” Street says. “The silent alarm was activated less than a minute ago.”

“Maybe you should put the gun down,” another woman says. “We can help you.”

Someone screams, and you plead, “Stop, stop.”

Hicks raises his own phone to his ear, whispering hurried commands. “I called off local PD. That’s a hostage situation. Luca, if you need to sit this out-”

“I’m good,” Luca assures the team. “Let’s do this.”

“Luca,” Deacon calls, stopping him on the way to Black Betty. “Your girl, your unborn child… he’s going to try to use them as insurance, a surety that things stay in his control. We need to you think with her if this is going to work.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Luca answers, letting his training override his emotions. At least until he gets to the store.

You hold a hand against your stomach as you sit beside the employees, tucked under the front of the counter as the armed man paces before you. Glancing over, you see that the woman who returned from the bank, Elizabeth, is looking better. He hit her over the head with his gun, but her color is returning, and the blood on her temple is drying.

“Is-" the other woman, Jane, begins. She stops when the man turns toward you. When he turns away again, she whispers, “Are you really with a cop?”

You nod once and squeeze her hand in a silent promise that your cop, your love, your Luca, will get everyone out of this building alive.

“Guns blazing,” Hondo suggests.

“I doubt he’ll like that,” Deacon argues. “He clearly wants to be in control based on the phone call.”

“They haven’t spoken since he made them sit,” Street adds, Luca’s phone pressed to his ear. “Not loud enough to hear at least.”

“We can’t risk spooking him into hurting anyone,” Luca agrees. “Try hostage recovery, talk him down, then go from there?”

“Thirty seconds,” Tan alerts from the driver’s seat. “Lights and sirens?”

“Lights only,” Hondo answers. “Park right outside the door, I want him to see us.”

Hondo takes a deep breath, then stops. He passes the phone to Deacon and nods once. Deacon dials the store number and waits for an answer as he trades places with Street to sit in the front.

“Hello,” he says after a moment. “I’m Sergeant Deacon Kay with LAPD SWAT. Who am I speaking to?”

“How’d you know I was here?” the man demands, in stereo for Street, listening to Luca’s phone and Deacon’s call.

“It’s a busy parking lot, someone got suspicious,” Deacon says carefully. “Is there something we should be worried about?”

“Yeah, there is!”

“What’s going on, sir?”

“I need money! She took everything from me, I can’t even see my kid and now I’m going to lose my apartment.”

Hondo holds up his left hand and taps his empty ring finger. Deacon nods, then takes a dramatic breath.

“I get that,” he replies. “My ex took all three of our kids, told the courts I would neglect them because of my hours as a cop. They- women take and take.”

“I need $1,200 but there’s only $300 here!”

“Listen, you come out, and I’ll help you with a plan to get the other 9.”

“No, no, I walk out there, I lose it all anyway. That isn’t how I’m ending this.”

“The women in that store didn’t do anything wrong, Mr.?”

“Kirkfield,” the man says quietly. “Keith.”

“Alright, Keith, my name’s David. I can help you, but not until I know the other people inside are safe.”

“I got a cousin who’s in jail for assault and battery, he called this part ghos-ti, you know what this is, David?”

“No, I don’t.”

“It’s like the root for our word hostage. I’ve got three ladies in here unwilling to cough up the cash I need.” He raises his voice, likely so you and the employees can hear, and adds, “If they’d listened, I’d be gone already!”

“Keith,” Deacon begins.

“No, I’m thinking you don’t get it either. So, remember next time you call without my money that ghos-ti also sounds a lot like a dead baby.”

Luca’s eyes widen as he grips the non-lethal gun across his chest. Hondo informs them they can’t get the money quickly, and Street shakes his head to communicate that Keith isn’t talking.

Suddenly, Deacon’s phone rings again.

“Change of plans, Sergeant,” Keith says. “Ten minutes, or I start shooting.”

“That won’t-“

The line beeps, and Luca tightens his jaw as Hondo begins brainstorming a plan to get inside.

You hold your hand against your mouth, growing nauseous from the stress of your situation, pregnancy hormones, and hunger. It’s been eight minutes since Keith gave Deacon ten minutes, and you know that the team is working to get inside if they’re not already.

“What are you doing?” Keith asks. “Move your hand.”

“I’m getting sick,” you explain before pressing your lips together.

“She’s pregnant, her blood pressure is probably too high or her sugar’s dropping,” Jane says. “I have snacks in my bag behind the counter, please just let me-“

Keith fires one shot into the wall, and you drop your head to cover your ears, fighting the rolling sensation in your stomach.

“Hold,” Hondo commands after the shot. “Street?”

“He-“ Street looks toward Luca. “He was talking to her, and one of the women asked to get her a snack. No one’s talking.”

“Stay here,” Hondo tells Luca.

“Absolutely not,” Luca argues. “We’re wasting time, Hondo.”

Luca’s chest tightens; he feels like taking a full breath would kill him, and this time, he can’t rely on his training. He heard the shot but no screaming, so he has no idea what they are about to walk into. Maybe Keith shot on accident, or maybe there’s a bloodbath. Regardless, you’re inside, and he will not sit on the sidelines.

They move silently through the back room of the store, pausing against a wooden door separating them from the showroom.

“I’ll give you my credit card, whatever you want, just please stop,” one of the women pleads through tears. Street thinks it’s Elizabeth, and as they review the thermal scan of the room, he tries to find where your phone could be.

“He’s pacing,” Tan says quietly.

“When he turns toward the front again, we’re breaching,” Hondo decides. “Don’t give him a chance to get another shot off, Chris.”

“I won’t give him a chance to pucker,” she mumbles as she moves into position.

Tan watches the image, raising his fingers to countdown from three. Hondo pulls the door open, and Chris shoots Keith’s upper leg before he even turns all the way around. Luca calls your name, rushing toward the counter as his team finishes their job. When he sees you, your arms wrapped protectively around your bump, he drops to his knees and pulls you against his chest.

“He’s cute,” the woman beside you – bloody woman Luca notices after – whispers.

You nod against Luca, carefully moving your arms to hug him. As you thank him repeatedly for coming, Chris and Tan haul Keith to his feet and take him toward an approaching patrol car.

“You hid this well,” Street applauds as he extends his phone toward you. “That microphone is nice, I should get one.”

“Priorities, Street!” Deacon yells from the back of the store.

“Thank you for coming,” you tell Street. “I need to pay for my stuff and then- I actually need to get up first.”

Luca holds your arms carefully, and Street lays a hand on your back as you stand. Once you’re on your feet again, Luca wraps his arm around your waist.

“These are so on the house,” Elizabeth tells you, passing two bags over the counter. “I’m going to the hospital with Jane but thank you for everything.”

“Thank you,” Luca tells her, pulling the bags to his side. “Now, we’re going home.”

You smile and lean tiredly against Luca. As he helps you into the passenger seat of your car, Street runs over and hugs you. Luca shoves him away from the back door before sitting in the driver’s seat and sighing.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he tells you, holding your hand against his thigh. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you reply.

“Isn’t it cute?” you ask, spreading the police van onesie over the table before you.

“Not cute enough to risk you getting shot at,” Luca mumbles against your temple. “But very cute.”

“Then you’ll really like this one.”

You pass the folded cloth to Luca, leaning harder against his side. He unfolds the onesie, reads it, and laughs. The sound feels like home, and as you curl up beside Luca, you know you and your baby will always be safe.

“Proof my mom loves policemen,” Luca says after a few minutes. “That’s funny.”

“And true.”

“Prove it,” he requests, smiling as his lips brush over yours.

[rockermybuddie]

Shot

Rocker x reader

Story 3

Summary: Its been eight months since you slept with Rocker. Its been hard but you both have managed to not let it happen again. Still good friends at work. You manage to get caught in a bank robbery off duty.

——————

You shift your weight from one foot fo another as you wait in line at the bank. Only two people ahead of you.

All of a sudden a group of five people walk in with heavy guns and masks.

“Everyone get down now!” One yells firing his gun in the air.

“This cant be happening.” You say quietly to yourself. Surly one of the bank tellers triggered the silent alarm.

“No body move!” Another commands.

Trying to come up with a plan quick scanning the area. Out numbered and out gunned anything you try to do could get you killed.

Police should be here soon, hopefully.

You see the cops pull up through the window, SWAT right behind them.

Some how you and Rocker immediately made eye contact through the window. His facial expression stern and now his focus is to get the civilians out and you safety.

With your hands you tell him 5 shooters and 14 civilians. So he knows what hes working with. Usually with bank robberies the numbers can be unsure.

You see how Rockers team is going to enter the building. Everything is going to plan intill the person beside you sees your badge flash on your hip.

“You’re a cop?! Do something!” They say. “Shhh! The cops are here. Im out numbered here. Trust me.” You tell them.

“Shut up!” A robber yells in our direction, thankfully he didnt hear the cop part. “Shes a cop, shes going to arrest all of you!” The person yells.

All of a sudden you’re lying on the ground a throbbing pain in your stomach and blood pouring out of you. You become light headed.

“Hey, hey, hey. Keep your eyes open sweetheart.” Rocker says kneeling beside you. He puts pressure on the gunshot wound calling for a medic.

“25- david is down!” He says on the radio. “Open your eyes baby. You’re gonna be okay. Just open your eyes” he begs.

——-

You hear a constant steady beeping noise. You open your eyes and see an unfamiliar ceiling, trying to remember where you were but cant think of anything.

You feel your mouth is open trying to close it your feel something plastic keeping it open. You move your hand to your mouth and feel a tube.

You panic trying to get it out thrashing around on the bed but immediately wince in pain.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart. Its okay. Calm down.” A voice says grabbing your wrists pinning you down.

You eyes dart around trying to focus on something. You see a face with deep brown eyes looking at you.

“I need a doctor!” The face yells towards the door.

All of a sudden there were other faces surrounding you none of them familiar. They removed the tubing in your mouth and replaced it with a tube in your nose that went around your ears.

“How much pain are you in?” One of the faces asks. “A lot?” You answer unsure. She puts a bag of liquid on a metal pole that has a tube going into your arm.

After awhile they all leave and the first face you saw came walking back in the room, but was followed by a new group of faces.

“Hey there. You gave us a scare there.” A tall man with gray hair and a well trimmed gray beard said.

“Who…..who are you?” You ask weakly, your voice a soft loud whisper. The man furrowed his brows as if he was trying to see if you were being serious or not.

“Deacon. Im Deacon.” The man tells you. You shut your eyes trying to think of someone called Deacon. But when you do you see a bank, a gun, then its blank.

“You…..you shot me?” You ask unsure of what is going on. Everyone looks at each other with concern as you try to put pieces together.

“No, you were at the bank during the robbery. You were shot. You don’t remember?” Deacon tells you. “I’m going to go get the doctor.” The girl says stepping out of the room.

“Bank robbery? How…. How did you know that was in my brain?” You asks.

The docotr came in and did a check up on you. He informed the others that your confusion is caused by the loss of blood and being in a coma for three days. He said your memory should slowly come back to you. Just give it time.

——-

“Rocker?” You say trying to get his attention. He immediately got up from the chair he was napping in. “Yes sweetheart? What is it?” He says at your bedside.

“You….you saved me.” You tell him. Your memory came back and you remember seeing Rockers face just before you blacked out.

A smile came across his face as he pushed some loose hair behind your ear. “I’m just glad you’re awake now.” He says.

“Do they know?” You ask him. “Know what?” He asks furrowing his brows, unsure of what you’re asking. “Do they know about us?” You ask more clearly.

“Oh. No. I don’t think so. I just told them i would stay here with you since i’m the last person you saw.” He explains.

“I’m going to sign the paper.” You tell him. You know what the outcome is going to be once word gets out that you are dating the leader of 50 squad but he saved your life and the past eight months have been brutal.

“But your career, are you sure?” Rocker asks trying to keep his excitement down incase you change your mind.

“I can handle gossip if i can handle getting shot.” You smile.

Rockers face lights up as he leans down and plants a deep loving kiss on your lips.

“If anyone gives you any shit let me know and i’ll make sure they get stuck on armor duty intill they retire.” Rocker says. You laugh at that but grabbed your side in pain.

——-

[stefanmikaleson1864]

Secrets

Jim Street X Reader 

Street helps the writer through a panic attack. 

A/N: I hope you all like this drabble !!! 

Y/N’s POV

Swat was a amazing job and you were so greatful that you got to be apart of it. Being one of the elites and fiding a family was something that you were beyond greatful for.

But being apart of the elite meant that you had to be on top of everything and leaving no room to have anything wrong.

You knew about your anxiety diagnosis sense you were little it was something that you manged and took medications for. The only problem was that you kept it out of your medical history.

You were afraid they wouldn't think you were quailifed enough and that your dreams would be over before it would start. So you kept it hidden and any time you had a flare up you would say you would try and hide it.

It was nothing personal you just knew you had to keep it to yourself. It wasn't like it was going to affect them. You all were super close but they didn't have to know everything about you.

Usually you were fine you would take your medications and practice your excersies you had. Like breathing techniques and even journaling to help you.

Being on the job for a couple of years know you quickly learned how to take the moments for yourself. To slip away and take the self care you needed.

But it was hard though always wondering if someone was gonna find out. Or wondering you were going to have a panic attack on the scene holding a weapon or fighting with the suspect.

It always just felt like a big ticking bomb that was being held over your head.

Was you making the best descion for you? And was it the best one for your teamates and society. Was this anxiety a big deal or not at all ?

Everytime you thought about it you had a panic attack just thinking about it.

Today was a different day. Today was a hard one it was just call after call and you were high paced all day long.

You could feel your anxiety setting in strong and the panic attacks felt like they were gonna happen. 

You couldn't do any of the normal thing you usually did during the day to help.

Your hands were shaking and your leg was bouncing. Thankfully everyone was sitting around and doing their own thing. 

You were sitting in the lounge room watching tv with Street and Tan. they were making you watch some show that you weren’t paying attention to. 

You were so wrapped in your thoughts. You were thinking about everything and anything at all once. 

It just felt like your mind was spinning and you were trying to claw your way out of a hole but couldn’t get out. Street looked over at you and he gave you a concerned look on his face. 

But you didn’t even notice. You began to feel you breathing getting labored and you were getting lightheaded. So you got up and ran out of the room. You didn’t know where you were going but you just knew you had to get out of there 

You just kept walking and ended walking outside. The warm sunlight was hitting you all over and it did feel nice. 

You walked over to the nearest bench and your legs were shaking and you felt like it was taking forever to get there. Each step it just felt like you were getting further and further away.

Suddenly you felt these hands on the back of you trying to give you some support. 

You were worried when you realized when someone was behind you. Worrying if it was all going to come out.

But then when you felt the familar warm touch you always craved you knew who it was instanly.

“Hey it’s okay I got you” Street said

You sat on the bench and then he got in front of you an kneeled down. You bent over your hands were cradling your face. 

Jim took your hands and removed them from your face. You looked a total mess your face was red and your face was all wet from crying. 

He was making you look at him. He had a look of concern written all over his face. Then he took his free hand he had and started rubbing your back which made you feel better and helped you calm down. 

“Hey talk to me, okay and breathe just breathe it’s gonna be okay” Street said in a soft voice. 

“It’s nothing okay I’m fine” You said breaking eye contact with him. 

“It’s not nothing what happened I mean i know it’s been a long day just had a moment” You said not looking at him. 

“Is it anxiety or something” Jim asked. 

You didn’t really say anything to him just started down at the bottom of your feet. 

“Hey don’t do that don’t shut me out i’m just worried about you” Jim said. 

You lifted yourself up and sat up straight. Taking your hands and wiping your face. 

You started taking deep breaths trying to get yourself back in order. You were struggling on what to answer because you were worried Street would go and tell Hondo or someone because he was worried about you.

You knew he only had pure intentions but you still didn’t want the whole team to know. But the way he was looking at you wanted to just spill your heart out to him. 

Looking at him in the eyes you decided to take the gamble and tell him. 

“ I have pretty bad anxiety and panic attacks i take medications for” You said. 

Jim got up and you started worrying again thinking where the hell was he off to. He sat down next to you. He then took you and pushed you close to him. So you were leaning up against his body. 

“I’m not gonna tell anyone. If that’s what your worried about” JIm said. 

You felt like a giant weight had been lifted off your chest once he said that. 

“Thank you really I mean it’s nothing bad It’s just some stuff I want to be personal” You said. 

“No i get that were all together all the time it’s hard to keep some kind of boundary” Jim said. 

“So what about you i need a big secret so incase you tell mine i’ll tell yours” You said. 

“Now why would I tell you something major then” Jim said laughing. 

“Because i know most of your shit so you got something and i need leverage you won’t tell then you got nothing to worry about” You said laughing. 

“Fine okay here goes I have a crush on someone from work” Street said. 

You got up and looked at him with a surprised face. Not knowing this so this was huge news. 

“Well who is it do I know her” You asked. 

Street looked at you and smiled. He had this big goofy look on his face. 

“Yeah you know her and nope that’s all the information you get’ Street said smiling.

“Wait come on this isn’t fair you gotta tell me something I’ll die if I don’t know” You said pleading with him. 

Suddenly the bells went off and that meant you all had to roll. 

“This isn’t over Street” You said getting up

You both started jogging over to Black Betty. 

“Now we both have secrets” Street said winking at you and getting in the back of the car.

Damn you never regretted something more in your life then you did right now

[findingnemosworld]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬.𝐰.𝐚.𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧, (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬.𝐰.𝐚.𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭) - 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐱 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐤 ( 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 )

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜 (𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞) 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

- 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

[gemstone-roses]

Frustrated

David deacon Kay (s.w.a.t) x reader

Summary: after a few bad dates leaves you... unsatisfied, deacon takes care of you. 18+ only there be smut ahead. Praise kink, teasing. Fingering. Pet names (honey, sweetheart). Deacon isn't married in this.

Warnings: mentions of bad dates not making reader cum, fingering, female reader.

A:N- I'm feral for this man. Minors be gone this work and this blog is strictly for those 18 and over. Reminder you are responsible for your own media consumption. Likes and reblogs much appreciated ty🥺 maybe I'll do a part two👀

"Rough night"? A gruff voice asks from behind his locker.

"Yeah something like that" you sigh, shutting your locker a bit too hard.

"Another terrible date?" He probes, shutting his own locker and looking at you.

You swallow, slightly embarrassed, and what makes it worse is that your having this conversation with the one man on your squad you've had a crush on forever, your closest friend on the team.

"Well, he got what he wanted, I uhm, ugh never mind" you chuckle nervously.

Deacons brows furrow.

"Anything I can do?" He asks kindly and you can't help the thoughts that swarm your mind, thinking of him, you, together.

It's been a rough shift, you excuse yourself to the bathroom of the bar the whole team is relaxing in.

Your wound up, the adrenaline from the day hasn't worn off fully, your not looking where your going when you bump into something hard.

Someone.

It causes you to stumble back slightly.

"oh sorry I wasn't paying attention" you say, resting your arm behind you on the bathroom door.

"Are you okay y/n?" His brows furrow again and your heart speeds up, he's so kind, so genuine, so hot.

"Y-yeah why" you say.

"You seem a little.. tightly wound today" he steps closer to you and you make no effort to move, allowing him to cage his arms on either side of you.

"I'll be okay, i just need to-

Deacon bites his lip, your brain short circuits for a moment.

"Need to what honey?" Deacon moves one of his hands to your waist, he strokes his thumb across your side.

"I need to, uhm, you know" you mumble, and deacon tuts slightly.

"Words honey" he teases and you take in a shaky breath

"I need to cum" you whisper, heat rising up your neck as you admit it.

Deacons chest heaves at your confession.

And with a surprising amount of confidence you add

"Make me cum, David?" And his lips are on yours instantly.

He kisses you furiously, pushing open the bathroom door with one hand and guiding you into it with the other.

You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around him as he pushes you against the bathroom wall breaking the kiss to catch his breath.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that" he confesses.

"Me too" you say and he smiles at you.

"You gonna let me take care of you honey?" He leans into your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses as you moan again.

Deacon moves his hand to the top of your trousers

"Come on honey what did I say? Use your words sweetheart"

"Yes" you huff out, desperate for his touch.

"Good girl" he touches his nose to yours as his hand finally dips below your waistband.

He runs his fingers up and down your clothed pussy a few times, humming in satisfaction.

"You're soaking" he whispers

"Deac" you whisper, leaning your head back.

He moves your panties to the side and slides a finger through your soaking folds, bringing it up to circle your clit.

He catches your moan in another kiss, this time a gentle one.

He rubs your clit slowly, applying pressure at the same time.

"You make the prettiest sounds" he says as he slides a finger into you.

"Oh deac" you whine.

He keeps one finger circling your clit as he pumps the other one inside you, seeing your reaction, he inserts another finger.

You feel a pressure building within, your breathing speeds up as deacon curls his finger to hit that spot.

"Oh fuck deac I'm gonna-

"You gonna cum for me honey? Already? You needed this didn't you sweetheart" he speeds up his fingers as he speaks, you grip his shoulders tight, your orgasm fast approaching.

"I got you, come for me honey"

"Fuck deac I- your words stop short as your orgasm washes over you, your pussy clenching around his fingers.

"That's it, let go baby" he comforts you as you release around him.

"Oh my god" you whisper, coming down from your high.

"That was incredible" he groans, placing a kiss to your forehead.

"Feel better?" He asks, embracing you, hands resting on your ass.

You nod, bringing your lip between your teeth.

"Shall we, get out of here?" You propose, eyes moving to the prominent bulge in his pants.

And deacon has never moved so fast in his life.

[imaginingyourfandom]

having an anxiety attack - dominique Luca (s.w.a.t)

You didn’t often have anxiety attacks

When you did have them, you usually kept it to yourself

You had your own strategies to get through one

But sometimes that didn’t work and Luca hated seeing you in pain

He would hold you as you struggled to breathe and get out your words

He would talk you through it and make jokes to make you laugh

Get you a glass of water afterwards

You would explain to him what set off the anxiety attack and he would listen to you patiently

He would ask how he could support you in the future

You would kiss and hug him for being so understanding

[almostluckydragon]

Comfort (Luca x reader)

A/n : This is my first piece of writing so let's be honest it's gonna be cringey but I hope you enjoy!!

I pushed open the kitchen door of SWAT headquarters revealing, Luca, my boyfriend of a year sitting hunched over a tablet.

He looked up at me, smiling sadly.

"Hey baby, what's up?" I said.

"Nothing, y'know all that I can do right now." he replied.

Ever since his injury, Luca had been benched and it was obvious it was starting to get to him. The PFQ was his chance to get back on the team and back to what he loves but he failed the 30 mile run.

Both me and Street had been telling him to take his time, he had been working non- stop to be back on his team. I was worried that he would injure himself more.

"Dom, come on. What's going on in that head of yours?" I asked, moving behind him to massage his shoulders.

He sighs.

"Kelly, said she was going to audition for a school play."

"That's..." I started.

"She didn't get the part."

I frowned.

"She was freaked out about it so I told her that if she auditioned, I would finish my PFQ." he explained.

"Well, if Kelly can audition, what's stopping you?"

"If she didn't get the part in her play, what if I can't do the run? I'm benched. For good."

Luca turned to me, fear etched on his handsome features.

"Luca" I sighed, brushing my hand through his hair "You can't really be comparing a 12 year old auditioning for a play with a SWAT PFQ?"

He looked down at my hands settled in his lap.

"I know your scared, Dom. But, I want you to know, I believe that you can finish it. Hell, the whole team does. The only person who doesn't believe in you is you."

He looked up at me, frowning slightly.

"So, you gotta believe in yourself, okay? And finish the PFQ. And whatever happens, I'll be here to help you, whether you finish or not."

"But, what if my hip acts up? What if I don't finish it in time? What if... " he starts.

"Dom, you have been working your ass off for the past months. Of course you can do it. You just gotta trust yourself."

For the first time in a while, Luca smiled. Wrapping his arms around my waist. He pulled me in and buried his face in my stomach.

I pulled him up and held his face.

"Thank you , baby. For believing in me." he said.

"So... you'll do the run?" I asked, giddily.

"I will, well I'll try." he laughed, pulling me in for a kiss.

[whitewolf2759]

First Meeting-Chris alonso

Hey guys I hope you enjoy this one-shot, I have just started publishing my writing so there may be some mistakes and if you want to view more of my content I will place a link to my youtube below.

You had first been introduced to Chris by Street the both you were raised at the same orphanage until you had been adopted by a nice old couple, however you made sure to stay in contact as he was like a brother in everything but blood.

After being adopted you had moved to the UK which was actually were you were born and raised until the age of six where you had been adopted by couple that were bad parent and chose to leave you when on holiday in America.

You were conflicted about as the UK was where you born but it would make staying in contact with Street harder. After reaching 18 you had followed in your adopter fathers footstep’s and joined the army as a medic.

After just over 19 week of army training as well as 22 weeks of medic training I then served for 4 years doing 2 tours after which I decided to join the military police.

At the age of 29 I had been a member of the military police for 6 years however during this I continued staying in contact with Street. We told each other everything as we comforted each other at every low and celebrated every high, however what we spoke most about was his team and every little shenanigan they got up.

These conversation gelped me decide to take an offer to move to America and work as a liaison between the military police and swat as well as an onsite medic.

///

Hey Chris!" Street waved to me "Come meet someone!"

I put my weights down and jogged over.

"Chris, this is y/n who’s basically my sister. She's going to be working here at SWAT."

"I'm mostly going to be assisting Commander Hicks and helping teams with military based cases as well an injuries if needed. It's not as difficult as what you lot do" You said with shy smile and slight blush at seeing the state Chris is in.

Chris almost didn't even process what you said because she got lost in  your bright eyes and shy smile. Get a hold of yourself Chris.

"Nonsense, you'll be plenty of importance. Welcome to 20-David" Chris say’s with a welcoming smile and dusting of pink of her cheeks at getting distracted shaking your hand.

While the two of you were focused on each othet neither noticed Street watching you both with a raised eyebrow, knowing look in his eyes and smirk slowly rising on his face before hiding it before either of you noticed.

///

You have now be working a swat for a couple of days and Street had introduced you to the rest of the team, while working if you had time you would spend in getting to each other and you made sure to give any teasing material they had on Street to annoy him when he gets in your nerves.

Most of the time you would obviously hang out with Street however you and Chris had also spent a lot of time together. With the amount of time spent with each other you had learned a lot about the other, for example you had learned that Chris loved trying a lot of different activities and she had learned of you love of reading. During all of this your attraction to Chris continued growing, however it only took one event for you to ask her out.

///

 Chris and the team had just returned after taking down a gang’s drug operation and the all got a bit banged a few scratches and bruises, Chris had the biggest wound which was a shallow cut from a knife on her right side.

“Chris you should really had gone to the hospital in case you need stitches” Hondo said in serious but tired voice knowing it was useless trying to get Chris to go the hospital.

“It’s fine it barely grazed me, nothing that wont heal in few days” Chris said in a tired voice just wanting to clean up and get out of her gear.

Both Hondo and Street shared knowing it was useless trying to convince however as they walk into HQ Street spot’s you talking to Hick’s knowing how much you worry about the team he now knows how to get her wound looked at.

“Hey Y/N we’re back” Street say’s catching you attention you glance at them before finishing you conversation with Hick’s.

As you make you way towards them Chris focuses on you seeing your hug your form showing your perfect hourglass figure causing her to get into a trance.

While this is happening the rest of the team leave to take their gear off besides Hondo and Street who share a look and Street indicates to Hondo what his plan is.

“Hey guys heard about the operation hope you all didn’t hurt badly” You said in caring voice your still showing you British accent.

“We’re fine just a few bruises but Chris has a cut she should get checked at” Hondo says in a hopeful tone hoping Streets plan works.

“What, no Im-.”Chris says in a annoyed tone with a slight blush realising she got distracted and they were still going on about her wound, however before she could finish her sentence Street interupted.

“Chris didn’t want to go to hospital so we were hoping you would take a look” Street said giving Chris a knowing look as she shot him an annoyed one in return.

“Sure, Chris meet me in office aftet getting changed��� You said leaving no room to argue as head to your office to get your med kit ready.

As you leave Chris watches you getting slightly hypnotised by the jeans hugging against your figure. After shacking her head she look towards Hondo and Street about to argue about what they just did but stopped as they look at her with knowing look’s having caught her so she heads to changing room with a light blush leaving behind the two smiling at her action.

///

30 minutes later Chris enters your office with tank top and jogger's hugging her form causing a slight blush to form on your cheek's before you tell her to sit on your desk as you get stuff to clean her wound.

Chris heads to sit on your desk with a slight smile on her face having caught your blush, a happy feeling filling her at the fact you find her attractive.

You sit on your chair in front of Chris and raise her top just below her breasts, blush returning when seeing her toned form. You start cleaning her wound apologising when she winces at the sting, while this happening you stay quite focusing on her wound while she tells you about the mission

However both of you fail to notice that Chris stops mid way through her story. When you finish you realise she’s stopped you look up and immediately blush.

When she see’s your blush she realises she got so entranced on you while you focused on her cut that she stopped talking.

Not giving her time to talk you get up to get a bandage for her cut and as you come back you see a shy look on Chris face. Smiling to yourself you place the bandage on her and lower her top, as she gets up and begins to leave you stop her.

“What are you doing Sunday?” You ask with a small smile and hopeful look in your eyes.

“Nothing why?” Chris replies while turning back to face you.

“I wondering if you would like go on a date” You said the smile on your face widening as a shocked but happy look crosses Chris’s face.

“I would love to” Chris says a happy but shy smile on her face at the fluttery feeling you caused at the question

You just continue to smile as you walk towards her placing a kiss on her cheek before heading back intent on clearing up so you can finish early and start planning your date.

As you turn Chris watches you with surprise in her eyes before a sweet smile appears on her face as she leaves.

[achilles-rage]

Off Limits

summary: you're street's foster sister and a hacker for swat, and rocker can't keep his eyes off you. one night a case you helped rocker with leads you into danger, landing you in the hospital. rocker's protectiveness of you has street a little confused, and it takes a while before street finally realizes that your feelings for each other are real, leading to confessed feelings.

word count: 6.7k

request- @melodyflowersblog: What about a swat fic with rocker X fem reader, where is street or Chris sister who is always at their work, either she is like a hacker or some other reason, and her and rocker get closer as time goes on and no one knows until there is like a shooting and reader gets hurt and he gets protective of her even when she's cleared from hospital, and everyone can see the love in his eyes or something like that

A/N: i decided to make the reader street's foster sibling so it could be race inclusive! pls let me know if i wrote anything that was not race inclusive! and i don’t know anything about computers so if anything i wrote doesn’t make sense just close your eyes<3 and also

plot hole!!! big dumb idiot alert!!! apartments have those doors at the front you need a key to get into!! get over it!!!! and street leaves the apartment after helping rocker drop reader off!!! and he has no car!!! just pretend he took an uber!!!! that's all, enjoy<3

warnings: reader's house is broken into and she's held a gunpoint, making out at the end lolz, flirty rocker<3, no use of y/n, plus size!reader fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

“Miss me, sweetheart?” you hear Rocker say as he walks into your office, winking as you turn to look at him, forcing you to fight back a smile.

After your brother Street helped you get a job at SWAT, everyone was quick to welcome you with open arms, but Rocker had seemed to take a special interest in you. You, Street, and Nate were always close growing up, living in the same foster home, with them coming to your rescue when the other kids teased or picked on you. With the trouble Jim and Nate had gotten into as kids, you took it upon yourself to help them out of their predicaments, learning that knowing how to hack let you erase security footage, and blackmail some bad people they had gotten themselves tied up with.

You were a breath of fresh air to Rocker at SWAT, your introverted personality a stark contrast to the officers he worked with. You were brilliant, and you had an eye for figuring out things that the other tech assistants couldn’t. And your pretty face and gorgeous, soft body definitely had nothing to do with his infatuation.

“What do you need, Rocker?” you ask softly, face growing hot as you turn back to your computer, rolling your eyes. You feel him lean over your shoulder, hand on the back of your chair, looking at the words and numbers on your screen, pretending to know what the hell he was looking at.

“Can’t I visit my favourite girl without needing something? Maybe I’m just here to see your pretty face,” he teases, looking down at you, a smirk on his face.

Rocker had been flirting with you for months, loving the way you react to his words, his looks. He’s used to flirting with people sometimes to get what he wants, but with you, he seems to go the extra mile, not stopping until he leaves you a flustered and stuttering mess. He loves the way you look down, muttering something about getting back to work, or how you look up at him with those doe eyes, breath catching in your throat. 

“Shut up,” you whisper, fingers slightly shaking, hovering over your keyboard. “What do you need?” you ask again, biting your lip as you stare at the screen, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips as you feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“We found out who the head of that cartel the squad is working on is, but he’s up in the air. Is there any way you can work your magic and find anything else on him? I’m desperate here, princess.” he explains, and you can’t ignore the way his voice grows more stressed as he nears the end of his sentence.

You nod, smiling softly, as your fingers begin to move, eyes combing over credit card uses and security cam footage of various cartel members, hoping to find something to set him on the right track. 

He watches you work, eyes gazing down from your screen to you. The way your hair looks perfectly styled, how he can see a glimpse of your chest from the angle he was standing over you, the softness of your thighs spread across your chair. He had to look away, clearing his throat quietly as his mind began being overrun by your thick thighs and how they would feel wrapped around him.

“Why didn’t you ask Jacobs to do this? He knows more about your case than I do.” you ask softly as you work, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his features. You’re glad he was here regardless, happy to spend a few minutes with him, despite the hammering of your heart in your chest and the way your breath quickened. You may or may not have a small crush on him, not that it could ever happen. Him and Jim may be friendly now, but you can tell that they butt heads every now and then, and with how protective Jim is of you, you know better than to ever do anything about your silly little work crush. You’re too shy, anyway. No matter how giddy his advances make you, you know nothing will ever come of this.

“Yeah, but he’s not near as fun to talk to as you. And you’re good, sweetheart. I have a feeling you may find something that he’s too stupid to catch onto.” he teases softly, looking down at you, smirking, his eyes not leaving you as he studied your frame.

You shake your head, fighting back a smile as you continue to work, trying to ignore the way he leaned in closer to you. After a few minutes, you make a small noise of victory, turning to look up at him, smiling.

“1435 West Park Avenue, room 219.” you whisper, watching his eyebrows furrow. “His right hand man. He has two aliases, but nothing was coming up for either of them, so I put the first name of one with the last name of the other. It’s being used at a shitty motel downtown, and it’s being paid for by a credit card that was just reported stolen. The credit card payment said he checked in the day the cartel leader went MIA. I hacked into the motel’s security footage. That’s him, right?” you ask, excitement flooding your body as Rocker looks at the slightly blurry security footage, a smile breaking out onto his face. He leans down, kissing the top of your head, laughing softly.

“That’s my girl. You’re a genius, sweetheart.” he says happily, earning a giggle from you as you shake your head.

“It was a lucky guess,” you whisper, biting the inside of your lip as you break eye contact, face getting hot.

“And yet, Jacobs didn’t find it, you did. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re doing this so that I’ll come to you more often. Especially when you’re wearing clothes you know will drive me crazy,” he teases, smirking, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at you, eyes glancing down to your cleavage peeking out of your low-cut shirt.

You look back up at him with wide eyes, scoffing as you fight back a smile. “I’m not doing anything,” you protest, trying not to look away as his intense gaze meets yours.

As Rocker is about to respond, your brother walks in, looking at the lack of space between the two of you. How Rocker was standing in front of your chair, arms crossed, smirking down at you.

“What’s going on in here?” Street asks, eyebrow raised, leaning on the doorframe. You look up at him, smiling softly, shaking your head as you try to collect your thoughts.

“Nothing. Just helping Rocker with his case. What’s up?” you explain, standing up from your chair as Rocker backs up. Rocker shoots you a wink before turning, walking out the door, nodding to Street as he walks past him.

“Thanks again, sweetheart!” Rocker shouts as he steps into the hall, Street’s eyes narrowing as his eyes follow Rocker down the hall.

“What the hell was that?” Street whispers as he turns back to you, walking into your office, arms crossed over his chest.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. He just likes getting a rise out of you, you know that.” you tell Street, letting out a soft exhale, trying to calm your nerves. Why did it feel like you’ve been caught doing something wrong? Other than the less than pure thoughts running through your head, nothing had actually happened.

“Yeah, whatever. He’s a flirt. Just…don’t get attached or anything, okay? I know you. You fall for people too fast. Remember that guy we met at the beach when we were 15? You wouldn’t shut up about him for weeks,” he teases, laughing softly.

“Alright, we were 15, and he promised he’d take me to that concert I wanted to go to that you and Nate refused to go with me to,” you argue, rolling your eyes, smiling softly at the memory. This earns a snort from Street as he shrugs, shaking his head.

“I’m just saying. Okay?” he says, eyes softer as he grabs your shoulders, ducking his head slightly to meet your gaze.

You nod, muttering a quiet ‘okay’ as you look up at him, giving him a small smile. He smiles back, patting your shoulder before letting you go, backing up towards the door. 

“Team’s going out for drinks tonight, if you wanna come? They’d love to have you there,” he tells you.

“Nah, I’m pretty tired. I think I’m just gonna head home, have a night in,” you tell him, sitting back down at your desk, waving him off. “Now get back to work before Hondo fires you. Again.” you tease, turning your chair around to face your computer.

You hear him laugh as he walks away, letting you get back to work. As you continue doing some digging for various cases SWAT has open, your mind trails off to Rocker. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. The biggest reason he makes you so flustered is the way his eyes scan you whenever he sees you. You were a little surprised at first, noticing how his eyes fell from your chest to your plush stomach, your thick thighs. Your tits, you were used to, but you could feel your body grow hot as he examined all of you in a way you weren’t used to. He was good with his words too. Always knowing what to say to make you stutter, your palms growing sweaty as your eyes trailed down to the way his arms flex in his tight uniform shirts. 

You look at the bottom corner of your screen after a couple more hours of work, noticing the time as your brain returns to the task at hand, your thoughts still foggy with thoughts of Rocker and his stupid attractive face. You stand up, grabbing your purse and walk out of your office, making your way to your car to drive home. You say a quick goodbye to everyone as you walk out to your car, noticing 50 squad pulling into the parking lot, returning from the motel you sent them to earlier.

“You get him?” you call across the parking lot as Rocker steps out of the armored truck.

He turns to you, a smile breaking out on his face as his eyes meet yours.

“All thanks to you, sweetheart!” He yells back, winking at you.

You laugh softly, smiling to yourself as you reach your car, eyes looking down as you shake your head.

It’s almost 11PM when you hear a crash coming from your living room. You sit up quickly in bed, breath catching in your throat as you put a hand over your mouth, listening to the quiet that envelopes you.

You wait a moment before you hear a quiet voice in your hallway, whispering to someone, then you hear two sets of footsteps slowly getting closer to your room. Your eyes widen, and you quickly get out of bed, silently making your way to your doorway, masked by the darkness of your room.

You tense as you see one of the men you were looking into earlier; one of the lower level members of the cartel you were helping Rocker’s team with. You tiptoe to your closet quietly, grabbing your phone on the way, dialing the number of the first person you thought of as you close your closet door, hiding yourself behind some of your clothes.

“It’s late, sweetheart. I wonder what you could be calling me for…” Rocker teases softly once he answers your call, a smirk on his face.

“Rocker,” you whisper, almost inaudible, tears welling up in your eyes as the gravity of your situation suddenly becomes quite clear.

He tenses as he hears the fear in your voice, standing up from his spot on the couch, jaw clenched.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” he whispers, grabbing his keys and gun, jogging out to his truck, phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he unlocks the door, climbing in.

“The cartel, they’re in my apartment.” you whisper, putting a hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing as you hear one pair of footsteps growing closer to your room. 

“I’m on my way. Where are you exactly? How many of them are there? Do you have a weapon?” he asks, his voice hard, as he starts to drive, weaving through traffic as he drives well above the speed limit, trying not to imagine what they might do to you if they find you.

“In my closet. There’s two of them. I don’t have anything.” you whisper, shrinking further back into your closet, mind racing to figure out how and why they found you.

Suddenly, it hits you. You didn’t log out of your computer when you left work. You had a program open, the same one you used to find the cartel leader, trying to track down some of the higher ups in the cartel that got away, when you noticed it was time for you to go home. While that program is good, it’s dangerous, and with the right training, the people you’re trying to find can find you as well. Leaving it open meant they had more time to track you down, finding your name, your job, and your address. 

“Stay on the phone with me, baby. I’ll be there in 2 minutes. If they find you and try to take you out of your apartment, I need you to fight. I’ll get to you, I promise. Just buy me some time.” he explains, listening to your ragged breathing over the phone, picturing the fear etched onto your face as you hide in your closet.

All of a sudden, he hears your closet door open and a stifled scream as your phone falls to the floor. The two men grab you, pulling you out of the closet as one slaps a hand over your mouth.

“Got you, you stupid bitch. You thought you could get our boss arrested and we wouldn’t track you down?” Rocker hears over the phone, his whole body tensing as he pulls into your apartment complex’s parking lot. He throws it in park, not bothering to kill the engine as he runs inside, gun in hand.

You thrash in their grip, trying to break free as one holds onto you, the other aiming a gun at your head.

“Struggling is pointless, darling. We’ve got a job to do. Now, you’re gonna tell us everything you found out about us, and we might just let you live.” the one with the gun spits at you, eyes never leaving yours as he smirks. He waves the gun at the man holding you, signaling him to take his hand away from your mouth.

“You don’t have to do this. I didn’t find anything. Just where your boss was hiding, and he was caught. That’s all I know, I swear.” you lie, trying not to look at the door. They didn’t seem to notice your phone before you dropped it, so you hoped if you didn’t do anything to make it look like you were waiting for someone to show up, Rocker might have the element of surprise on his side. 

“Bullshit. You’re gonna tell us, or we’re gonna make sure that your death is extra long, and extra painful. Did you see the way we torture people while doing your research? It’s not something you want,” the man with the gun says angrily, the sound of him cocking the gun ringing in your ears, making you flinch.

As you’re about to reply, you hear two gunshots. You shut your eyes tightly, a high pitched noise escaping your throat. Rocker steps into the room after taking down the man with the gun, gun raised at the man still holding onto you tightly, a new sense of urgency in him as he notices the red spot growing on your shirt. You open your eyes once you feel the sharp pain in your side, knees growing weak at the feeling. You make eye contact with Rocker as he stands in front of you, his eyes quickly looking down as he bends to grab the man’s gun and puts it in his waistband, keeping his own pointed at the man behind you. 

“Duck,” he says to you quickly, noticing the man’s grip on you faltering as the realization of what just happened crosses his face.

You drop to the floor quickly, hand moving to your side, trying to put pressure on the gunshot wound, flinching as you hear another gunshot, keeping your eyes to the ground. You hear the man behind you drop to the floor, and almost immediately after, you feel Rocker’s hands on you, forcing you to lay down on your back, grabbing your hands and forcing them to cover your wound. When the man with the gun went down, his finger was still on the trigger, sending a rogue bullet into your abdomen as he fell.

“Baby, where’s your phone?” he asks, a sense of urgency in his voice.

“Dropped it when they grabbed me,” you whisper, breath quickening as the searing pain in your side grows.

He quickly runs to your room, grabbing your phone, dialing 911 as he races back over to you, moving your hands gently before using his own hands to cover your wound, trying to slow the bleeding. You wince, crying out softly as he applies pressure, growing dizzy as he gives the 911 operator your address. 

“Stay with me, sweetheart, you gotta keep your eyes open, yeah?” he whispers to you as your vision gets blurry, your eyes blinking slowly, fighting to keep them open.

“Look at me, baby. Let me see those pretty eyes.” he says louder, hands still pressing your wound, watching as your eyes flutter closed, the sound of sirens getting closer.

“Come on, don’t do this to me. Open your eyes, baby,” is the last thing you hear, the pain subsiding as everything goes black.

You wake up to the sound of beeping, wincing softly as you open your eyes, blinded for a moment by the fluorescent lights shining brightly over you.

You hear a loud exhale from beside you, someone’s grip tightening on your hand as your vision comes into focus. You look over, seeing your brother sitting beside you in a hospital chair, a worried look on his face.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me, we didn’t know if you’d make it.” Street whispers, standing up to kiss your forehead softly. 

You look up at him, swallowing as you try to sit up, wincing louder.

“No, no, Stay there. You were shot. You have to rest. I’ll go get everyone, they’re all waiting in the lobby.” Street says, letting go of your hand and walking to the doorway, waving everyone in.

You look to the door as Chris, Hondo, Tan, Luca, Deacon, and Rocker walk in, looks of relief on their faces.

They all take their turns of saying how glad they were that you’re okay as you smile weakly at them, eyes glancing to Rocker as he makes his way over, jaw clenched and hands in his pockets, refusing to look you in the eyes. A look of sadness fills your eyes as you see him standing toward the back of the group, a hard look on his face as his eyes focus on where your wound is. You look back over at Chris as she tells you how glad she is that you’re okay, thanking her as you try to take your mind off of Rocker.

After a while, the team all look exhausted, and you tell them to go home and get some rest. They agree after much convincing and leave, while Street tells you that he’s staying whether you want him to or not. You laugh softly at his insistence, wincing as you feel a pain shoot up your spine, Rocker’s eyes immediately lock on yours, moving beside your bed as he glances down at where your gunshot wound was, before looking back up at your face, eyes softening.

You’re so caught up in Rocker’s presence that you don’t hear Street tell you that he’s going to grab some snacks, his sentence stopping short when he sees the way you and Rocker are looking at each other. He watches for a second before backing out of the room, letting you two have a moment, brows furrowed as he tries to figure out if the emotions he saw between you two were the product of his lack of sleep.

“Thank you,” you whisper to Rocker, turning your palm face up on the bed, moving it closer to him.

“Goddammit, sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me. Do you know what I’d do for you?” he says, sitting down in the chair Jim had pulled up to your bed, moving to cradle your hand between his own.

You let out a shaky breath at his words, chest feeling heavy as the weight of his words hit you. You’re unable to form words as you look up at him, the way he was looking at you expressing all the emotions he was feeling for you in this moment. The fear of possibly losing you. The adoration he felt for you. The guilt he felt for you being in this situation. He felt like it was his fault. He was the one that asked you to do some digging on the cartel.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you. I kept thinking about what I might walk into, what they could’ve done to you. I know this cartel. The things they would’ve done if I didn’t get there in time,” he trails off, head dropping as his eyes fill with tears.

“Hey,” you whisper, reaching out to put your hand on top of the hand on top of yours, “I’m okay. You saved me. I’m right here.”

“You got shot, baby. Because of me.” he whispers looking back up at you, face red.

“I’m alive because of you. You saved me. I called you because I knew you’d save me.” you tell him, giving him a look that you hope conveys all the things you want to say to him, but are too scared to say.

He lets out a shaky breath, wiping away a tear that falls down his cheek as he nods.

“I’m never gonna let anything like this happen to you again,” he whispers. He leans down, kissing your hand softly before looking back up at you, holding eye contact.

After a moment you look down, face growing hot at his intense look. Leave it to Rocker to make you feel flustered even after being shot.

As you both sit in silence, your brother walks back in, stopping as he sees the way Rocker is staring at you, holding your hand in his.

Rocker quickly stands up, dropping your hand as he nods at Street, a hard expression making its way onto his face again.

“You got her?” Rocker asks Street, standing up straight as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Street nods, giving Rocker a ‘what the fuck’ look as Rocker starts walking towards the door.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be back in the morning, okay?” Rocker says in a much softer voice, looking over his shoulder to you as he gets to the door.

You nod, smiling softly, watching him until he’s out of sight. You look back over at Street as he clears his throat, looking at you with a raised brow.

“What the fuck?” Street whisper-yells, sitting down on the chair beside your bed as you look at him sheepishly.

“What?” you ask, looking down at your hands, fidgeting with them.

“I was a little confused on why you called him and not me, other than him living closer to you. But now I see why,” he tells you, leaning back in the chair, putting his feet up on the bed.

You sigh, shaking your head. “It’s nothing, Jim, I swear. I was helping him with that cartel today. I thought he was the best one to call since he’s more familiar with them.” you explain, biting the inside of your lip nervously, hoping he doesn’t try to call your bluff. 

“Right,” he mutters sarcastically, rolling his eyes, “I’m telling you, don’t get too attached, please. It’s his job, he did what he was trained to do.” he tells you, opening up the bag of chips he bought.

“Why do you hate him so much?” you ask, looking back over at him.

“I don’t hate him. I just know guys like him. Trust me, you don’t wanna date a cop.” he tells you, his focus going to the chips in his hand, offering the bag to you. You shake your head, sighing.

“You know guys like him; you don’t know him. He’s a good guy.” you argue softly. As much as you love your brother, he can be really overprotective of you. You’re generally very trusting, and a lot of the time, he feels the need to make sure you’re giving your trust to those who actually deserve it.

“I’m not saying he’s not a good guy, he’s just not good for you. He’s cocky, and arrogant, okay? I promise, the attraction will wear off soon.” he tells you as you roll your eyes.

“So, he’s like you?” you tease softly, not wanting to argue with him right now, still feeling weak.

“Exactly,” he teases back, shoving more chips into his mouth as you laugh softly, wincing. “Now, get some sleep. I’ll stay here with you tonight. Doctor says we can leave in the morning.” he tells you with his mouth full as you nod. You lay your head back on the pillow, sighing as you drift off to sleep.

The next morning, you wake up to Street’s snores, looking over to see him in an awkward looking position on the chair. You sigh, rolling your eyes, groaning softly as his snores echo through the room. You look over at the table beside your bed, reaching for your phone once you notice it. As the screen lights up you see a text from Rocker.

Rocker: I cleaned up your apartment. It’s all ready for you when you get discharged. And I set up some blankets on the couch. I’m staying there until we catch the rest of the cartel members, and I don’t wanna hear anything from you about how I don’t have to. I’m not letting this happen again.

You smile softly as you read the text, replying a quick ‘okay’ before setting your phone down, knowing that arguing would be pointless. A few minutes later, Street wakes up, looking over at you and smiling softly, sleep still in his eyes.

“Morning. How are you feeling?” he asks, closing his eyes again, yawning loudly.

“It still hurts a little, but these pain meds are helping,” you joke, sitting up slowly. “When can we go?”

“I’ll go get the doctor. She said we can leave today. We’ll probably just have to fill out some forms or something.” he tells you, standing up, stretching.

You nod as he walks out the door, smiling again as you think about Rocker’s text. As quick as your smile appears, it disappears. He’s staying at your house. For God knows how long. While his protectiveness has your heart beating loudly in your chest, it could also very much be credited to the nervousness you feel from having him in such close quarters.

Later that day, Rocker pulls into your apartment’s parking lot before jogging around to the other side of his truck, opening your door for you and grabbing your arms to help you get out. Rocker told Street he would drive you back to your apartment, Street hesitantly agreeing because he knew driving you home on his motorcycle wasn’t really an option. You thank Rocker softly, feeling two arms wrap around your waist, one Rocker and one Street’s, both of them trying to help you walk inside. 

“I got shot in the side, my legs still work,” you tell them softly, rolling your eyes at their focused expressions.

“Yeah. You got shot. And you’re gonna accept our help for the next few weeks until you heal.” Rocker says seriously, careful of your wound as they lead you to your apartment.

They guide you to your couch, sitting you down softly before backing up, making sure you’re still okay.

“Okay…I guess I’ll go…” Street says, looking between you and Rocker, noticing that Rocker wasn’t moving, feet firmly planted in the middle of your living room.

“And Rocker?” he says, eyes narrowing as they meet each other’s gaze, finger pointed at his chest, “Don’t fuck my sister.” 

Your jaw drops at his words, face growing hot as you look between them. Rocker’s reaction is similar to yours for a moment, before it’s quickly replaced by a neutral expression.

“She just got out of the hospital, Street. I’m not that big of a douchebag,” he says sarcastically, glancing over at you to give you a wink.

“I’m serious,” Street says, eyeing you.

“It’s not gonna happen, Jim, I promise. Thank you. I love you. I’ll be fine.” you tell him, your arms making a shooing motion.

He puts his hands up in surrender, backing up towards the door. Telling you he’ll check up on you later before leaving. 

It’s a long few weeks as you slowly recover, Rocker refusing to leave your side, keeping his word and sleeping on your couch every night. He talked to Hicks, both agreeing that a uniformed officer would stay outside your door while Rocker was at work, making sure nothing further happened to you.

It was hard to be in your apartment at first. Many nights involved waking up with tears in your eyes, clutching your side as you relived what had happened. Each time you woke up, Rocker was already at your side, shirtless and hair messy, hearing the sounds you made in your sleep. He would softly brush the hair out of your face, whispering that he was there, that he would protect you. If you weren’t so scared, you would’ve noticed his bare chest, and the soft look in his eyes as he calmed you down.

One day he came back to your apartment from work, a large grin on his face as he walked over to you sitting on the couch, kissing your forehead.

“We got them,” he tells you, “All of them. They’re all in prison. You’re safe.” 

“I was already safe, Rocker. You made sure of that as soon as I came home.” you tell him, smiling.

You had gotten used to his company. The longer he was there the less flustered you got around him, his presence only really affecting you when he really laid on the charm.

“Yeah, but now you really don’t have to worry about them again.” He says happily, sitting down beside you on the couch, leaning back as he lets out a long sigh, finally feeling a weight off his shoulders.

“I guess that means you can go home.” you say softly after a few moments of silence, sadness in your eyes. You had liked him before this happened, but now, your feelings have increased tenfold. And he felt the same. He loved coming home to you, making sure that you were okay, he didn’t wanna give that up. You both really didn’t want him to leave, but it made no sense for him to stay, and you both knew that.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” he says, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice as the realization hits him. “Hey, didn’t the doctor clear you for work? When are you going back?” he asks, trying to distract himself from the idea of leaving your apartment. 

“Mhm, I go back in 3 days. I’m excited to get back to it,” you tell him as he nods, eyes unfocused as he tries to burn the feeling of being in your apartment into his brain. Sitting on your couch with you, both comfortable in each other's presence.

“I’m gonna go make dinner. Pasta?” he asks after a few minutes pass, standing up and looking at you. You nod, smiling softly as he goes to the kitchen, sighing as you think of what it would be like to have him here all the time, not just when he feels the need to protect you from the cartel.

You walk into SWAT headquarters with a smile on your face, waving at your coworkers as you pass them, happy to finally be back. Making your way to your office, Street jogs up to you, lightly putting an arm around your shoulders, still wary of your wound, even though it has pretty much healed by now. 

“Glad you’re back, sis. I was gonna throw you a welcome back party, but Rocker said you’d kill me,” he teases, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

“And he was right. I’m glad you didn’t,” you tell him, fighting back a smile as you both walk into your office, sitting down. 

As you and Street continue talking, Rocker walks in, a smile on his face once his eyes land on you.

“It’s good to see you back in here, sweetheart.” he says, winking, leaning up against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You need something, Rocker?” you tease, turning to look at him, giving him a smile.

“As much as I’d love your help on this new case, I’m not asking you for anything else. I’m not putting you at risk again.” he tells you seriously.

“I told you, it wasn’t your fault, it was my mistake. I’ll help with anything you need, you know that.” you tell him, matching his tone.

“Not taking any chances. Now I’ll just be in here to catch up, tell you how pretty you look,” he says, smirking as his eyes scan your soft frame.

Your face grows hot as you look down, fighting back a smile. 

“Get back to work, Rocker.” you say softly, turning your chair back to Street, hearing Rocker say a quick goodbye before walking to the locker room. 

“Maybe I was wrong about him,” Street whispers, looking over at you, smiling softly as he notices the way Rocker’s words are affecting you, “He’s a good guy for you.”

“Yeah?” you ask in disbelief, your eyes widen as he says this, lips parting in surprise.

“Yeah. He really cares about you. He stayed with you for weeks to make sure you were okay. I thought that maybe he was just flirting with you for fun, that he was just leading you on. But he clearly likes you,” he tells you sincerely, hand coming up to rest on your shoulder. “I give you my blessing.” he jokes, patting your shoulder gently.

Your laugh, raising a brow. “Your blessing? I didn’t realize this was the 1800s,” you tease.

“Yeah, but I know you were holding back because of what I said. I don’t think you should.” he tells you, standing up from the chair beside yours, slowly walking towards the door. “Tell him how you feel!” he says loudly, winking at you. He turns, walking away, leaving you alone in your office laughing softly.

You think for a moment, biting your lip as you try to figure out what to do. You can’t just tell him you like him. Sure, you let him flirt with you, and sometimes you muster up enough courage to say something flirty back, but you can’t tell him. The thought of him rejecting you was too much, and even if you knew he wanted you, you’d still be too scared to say the words.

Little did you know, Street had left your office and went to find Rocker, which led to a weird conversation about you and Rocker’s relationship, and Street’s “blessing.” 

You tense as you hear a knock on your door that night, slowly making your way to your door. You sigh in relief as you see Rocker through the peephole, opening the door and motioning him to come inside with a small smile on your face.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as he comes in, running a hand through his hair as he turns to face you. You shut the door, spinning around to look up at him, brows furrowing as you see what you swear is nervousness on his face.

“Do you want me?” he asks quickly. He had written a whole speech in his head on the drive over, but now that he was standing in front of you, that’s all he could say.

“What?” you whisper, not knowing what else to say, feeling your heartbeat quicken and breath catch in your throat.

“God, I’ve wanted you for so long. Do you know how much it hurts to see you every day at work? Not able to do anything but stare at you? Flirt with you? But only when I needed something, because Street would skin me alive if I did anything more than that? God, you drive me crazy.” he tells you, stepping closer to you, your back almost touching your front door as you stand there, stunned.

“I-” you whisper, trailing off, letting out a shaky exhale as his gaze burns holes into you, feeling the heat radiating off of him

“Just say yes. Please,” he practically begs, hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to pull you into him and run his hands down your body.

“Yes,” you breathe out, immediately feeling his hands grip your hips, pulling you into a rough kiss as your hands move up to his chest.

You whine slightly as he pushes you backwards, your back hitting your front door, your arms quickly moving to wrap around his neck. One of his hands moves up to your jaw, tilting your head up more as he deepens the kiss, his hips slowly grinding into you, forcing a moan out of your mouth.

He smiles into the kiss as you moan, the hand holding your jaw trailing back down your body, moving both hands to the backs of your thighs.

“Jump,” he whispers against your mouth, bending down slightly.

“Don’t wanna crush you,” you whisper, pulling back from his lips, looking up at him, breathing heavily.

“Sweetheart, look at me. I’ll be fine.” he teases softly, a cocky expression on his face. Not wanting to wait for you to jump, he instead roughly grabs your thighs, pulling one of your legs up to rest on his hip before forcing your other foot off the ground, wrapping your other leg around his waist as you shift your weight.

You squeal softly, giggling as he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall again. He wastes no time in finding your lips again, pressing against you as his hands squeeze your thighs.

Your hands find his hair, weaving through them as you kiss him back, tightening your legs around his waist. He can’t get enough of you. The feeling of your thick thighs wrapped around his waist, how they feel in his hands. The way your chest and tummy feel against him. How your lips feel against his.

Suddenly, one of his hands travels up your back, pulling you off the wall as he turns, before it trails back down to the back of your thigh. 

You pull back from his lips as he moves, turning to look at where he’s going. You bite your lip as he makes his way to your bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this, sweetheart.” he whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss under your ear before throwing you on the bed.

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It’s Been A Long Day - David “Deacon” Kay 

It’s Been A Long Day - SWAT x Reader Drabbles 

David “Deacon” Kay

Prompt: How does the team seek comfort after a difficult day on SWAT?

Pairing: Deacon x GN! Reader

Disclaimer: reader has children with Deacon, married couple. Vague mentions of police work, politics, fear of police. Reader and Deacon use gender neutral pet names (honey, sweetheart, etc.)

Word Count: 600

A/N: I am on Season 4 of SWAT which is full of complex and difficult topics like racism, Black Lives Matter, Blue Lives Matter, and more. I love the way the show handles modern day conflicts and struggles. I felt like it was fitting that Deacon would bring some of those thoughts home. He just needs to be comforted and supported!

The house was silent, save for the quiet crinkle of the page as you flipped through the book you were reading.

It was in this quiet that you heard the front door open and shut. Expecting footsteps to come upstairs to where you were, you continued to scan your eyes across the page.

After a few moments of hearing nothing however, you paused.

Why wasn’t David coming up to bed?

Concern furrowing your brow, you swung two feet out of bed and into your soft slippers, sliding a satin robe around your bare shoulders.

You stepped down as gently as you could, trying not to disturb your sleeping children, an action you’ve done a hundred times over.

In the same practiced whisper, you called out from the bottom step:

“Honey?”

The still form on the couch stiffened, then the tension released from his shoulders as you laid a gentle, warm hand on his back.

“What do you need?”

Deacon leaned back to look at you with appreciation. He loved that you didn’t interrogate him, scold him, or even ignore him.

You simply offered your unconditional support.

That’s just who you were and he couldn’t help but fall for you a little more in that moment.

“I just need a minute to…” he trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“Can I sit with you?” You asked.

Your husband made space for you, and you cuddled into his strong side, hip to hip, head to his chest, hearing that comforting heartbeat steady under your ear.

David automatically wrapped his arms around you, the stress in his body already melting away from your warm embrace.

Sometimes, he just needed you near and that was comfort enough.

Eventually, he released his hold on you and you leaned back, gazing patiently into his warm brown eyes. Tonight though, those eyes were lined with worry.

He lifted up your left hand, rubbing a thumb across your wedding ring thoughtfully.

“You know, this ring, it’s a constant reminder of our love, and our commitment to each other.”

You reached over and lifted his left hand, pressing your lips to the cold metal of his ring in silent acknowledgement of what he said.

“In the same way, my badge, it’s a symbol of my loyalty to the force, to my fellow policemen. And my dedication to protect and serve the citizens of LA.”

David leaned back and rubbed a hand over his tired face.

“But to some, this badge is a symbol of power. A power to exploit for their politics, or a power to fear of being targeted.”

He looked at you now.

“That’s not why I decided to be a cop.”

“I know.”

“It’s just, it feels like just being a good cop isn’t enough anymore.”

“Life isn’t black and white. It’s messy and complicated and full of the unexpected.”

“I know…I’m just tired of trying to defend myself. Protecting what I think is right.”

“You are a good cop. And an even greater man. I trust that you’ll do what’s right. Always.”

David pressed a kiss to your hair, but you saw that he didn’t quite believe what you said for himself.

“And if you don’t, if you make a mistake, you know I am here. Your team is here. You aren’t alone in this, David.”

At that, the deep sigh that your husband exhaled seemed to take some of the burden off of his heavy shoulders.

“Yeah. You’re right sweetheart.”

“Aren’t I always?” You smiled.

He chuckled and lifted your chin, pressing the softest kiss to your lips.

“Thank you.”

…

[fluentmoviequoter]

Whole Again

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You're injured during a raid, but your boyfriend Luca doesn't know how bad it is. After you're separated and instructed not to speak, your team finds a way to let you comfort one another.

Warnings: angst, r is shot, a civilian is killed during a raid, fluffy comfort!

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“One more thing,” Hondo says as you approach the raid location in Black Betty.

“He’s going to hear us coming at this rate, Hondo,” you complain playfully.

“Maybe you can just talk until he surrenders,” Street agrees. “It wouldn’t take long for me.”

“Funny,” Hondo replies, even though you can tell he is amused. “You must want me to say something about the little fling going on here.”

“There isn’t a fling,” Luca calls from the driver’s seat. “And Hicks knows about the relationship.”

“But nice try,” you add.

“Stay liquid,” Hondo concludes, shaking his head as he smiles.

“Fifteen seconds,” Deacon alerts, sitting in the front by Luca.

“Let’s do this!”

You pull your helmet over your head and prepare to exit Black Betty as Luca stops three houses down from your final destination. The man holed up in the dilapidated bungalow down the road has warrants for three violent crimes and has racked up enough charges in fees from missing court over the years to pay off every student loan in America, you think. He’s dangerous, but you trust your team, and patrol officers have given you good intel. Right now, his house is as quiet as it gets. He should be inside, asleep, and likely won’t even know SWAT raided his home until he wakes up in jail later today.

“We got this,” Luca whispers beside you.

“Be careful,” you reply before splitting up.

Luca goes with Deacon to the west side of the house, and you branch off with Street to enter through the back door. Your relationship with Luca isn’t new, but it’s still growing. Luckily for today, you’re out of the stage where being away from him during a breach like this terrified you and it was hard to breathe until you saw him on the other side.

You take a deep breath as Street counts down with Hondo. The explosive on the door blows loudly, and Street leads you into the kitchen at the back of the house as you cover him.

Very quickly, you realize that all of the intel was bad. Hondo curses over the comms, and you begin yelling with your teammates.

“LAPD SWAT!” you yell with Street. “On the ground now! Everybody on the floor!”

The rest of your team is out of sight, caught in different parts of the house, but you can hear them shouting commands. In the kitchen and living room, standing before you and Street, at least 30 men are pushing toward you slowly, speaking to one another in Spanish when they aren’t yelling at you.

“Any ideas?” you ask Street.

“Flash bang?” he replies.

You nod and trade places with him, holding your gun against your shoulder. Several shots echo through the house as Street pulls the small flash-bang from his pocket. Unable to tell where the shots came from, if it was your team shooting or being shot at, you force yourself to focus.

“Back up!” you yell as a man steps toward you.

Just before Street throws the device, someone at the back of the crowd raises a pistol. You begin to warn Street, but you don’t get the chance. Before you hear the shot, the bullet knocks you backward and throws you against Street. He scrambles away from you quickly to keep the men away from you. Three flash bangs detonate simultaneously, and 50 Squad enters the front door to provide much-needed backup.

“Everybody good?” Rocker asks as patrol officers begin escorting the disoriented criminals out of the house.

“I think so,” Hondo replies. “Deacon and Luca are with me.”

Luca looks around, expecting you to walk out of the hallway joking with Street.

“Hondo!” Street yells from the kitchen.

Luca’s chest tightens, his heart feels like it leaps dangerously in his chest, and he steps forward to follow Hondo with pure fear running through his veins.

“Hold it!” Hicks calls, walking into the house with Jessica at his side. “20 Squad, get out of here.”

Hondo explains that something is up with you and Street, but Hicks repeats himself. Rocker nods and then disappears around the corner into the kitchen and doesn’t speak again.

“You can’t talk before the investigation begins,” Jessica adds.

“He didn’t make it?” Hondo asks, remembering the man who was shot.

Jessica shakes her head, and Hondo leaves the house without knowing how his team is. As Deacon prepares to follow him, he pushes Luca forward gently.

“I know,” Deacon says softly. “But we have to go.”

Rocker returns just as Luca stumbles out of hearing distance and requests a medic get inside. The same medic who announced the civilian DOA rushes into the house with a large medical bag bouncing against his hip. Street, however, is told to leave and grumbles as he exits the house.

“I’m fine,” you grumble as he kneels beside you. “It hit my vest.”

The medic pulls your vest over your head carefully, then unbuttons your uniform shirt and pulls the neck of your undershirt away from your chest. He shines a small flashlight against your skin before letting your shirt fall back into place.

“No hospital trip for you today,” he says. “You’re going to be sore and have a painful bruise for a few days, but your vest did its job.”

“Where’s my team?” you ask, hissing as you sit up.

“Headed back to HQ,” Jessica says.

You look up quickly, surprised to see her here.

“A civilian was shot, he’s dead,” she explains. “Until we figure out who took the shot, you can’t see them.”

“I need to tell Luca I’m okay,” you argue. “Two words, please.”

“I’m sorry.”

You stand, refusing her help as you follow another officer to a cruiser. As you fall into the passenger seat, tired and sore, you wonder how Luca will react to this sudden separation.

When you arrive at the station, you get permission to change in the locker room before taking your place in a private room to speak to Internal Affairs. The door closes behind you, and Luca steps out of the shower area, still wearing his tactical gear. He rushes toward you and carefully takes your shoulders as his eyes travel up and down your frame.

You take his hands and smile as you promise, “I’m okay.”

Luca hugs you carefully, though it's more him awkwardly wrapping his arms around you than hugging. “What did the medic say?” he asks.

Before you can answer or get too comfortable in his hold, an IA investigator opens the door and demands, “Officer Luca, we need you.”

“Can I get just a second?” he requests.

“No.”

You can see Luca’s attitude shift as he steps back. He doesn’t want to leave your side while you’re injured, and being forced to makes him grumpy. But he’s a good officer, and he’s going to listen. For a while, at least.

“I’m sorry, Luca,” Hicks says in the hallway. “But it’s protocol.”

“I don’t even know what happened to her!” he argues.

“And you won’t until after we’re finished. But I can promise you she’s okay.”

Luca stops outside the door where the IA team is waiting. He lowers his voice to reply, “She got shot, Hicks, you know she isn’t.”

Several minutes later, you exit the locker room in the most comfortable clothes you could find. After finding a place to sit and wait, you watch the hallway opening, hoping that Luca will come down here at some point and you can explain everything to him.

“Luca!” you call as he exits an office.

He steps backward, then turns to walk toward you.

“Officer Luca,” the officer behind him directs. “This way, please.”

Luca’s jaw tightens as his anger increases. The grumpiness he showed in the locker room was cute, you thought, but he’s getting worse. If you don’t get a chance to tell him what the medic said soon, he might snap and get himself in trouble. So, you decide to find an opening to promise you’re okay.

“Officer Luca,” the man repeats. You look up again, surprised to see Luca squaring his shoulders before the other man. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warns lowly.

Luca’s fingers tighten into a fist, but he turns and storms away. You exhale in relief, then stand and follow them at a distance. The officer instructs Luca to wait by the sparring ring, then walks into Hick’s office.

Because he’s alone, you walk to Luca's side and bend forward to kiss his cheek. After kissing his cheek, you begin to pull away from him. “The medic said I’d be sore and bruised for a while, but the vest kept the bullet from doing any real damage. I’m absolutely okay, Luca. I promise.”

Luca nods, and says, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You walk away from Luca and feel his eyes on you until you turn the corner to return to your previous place.

“Where were you?” Jessica asks.

“I needed a tissue,” you lie. “Are they ready for me?”

“Not yet. Do you need anything?”

You sit down and shake your head. The only thing you need is Luca, and you already know the answer to that request.

You let your eyes close as you continue to wait. Soft footsteps echo in the hallway before they stop beside you. You recognize Luca’s touch as he lays his hand on your thigh and squats beside you. Opening your eyes, you smile and lean forward to wrap him in a hug. He reciprocates, being careful of where he touches you.

“Incoming,” someone warns from the end of the hall.

As Luca stands, you see Street standing guard and smile to thank him.

“We’re going to get time to talk,” Luca promises. “I’ll be back.”

You assume that the rest of your team will assist him in returning, likely aware of how worried he is. Over the next few hours, you’re all in and out of interviews with IA to account for every move and every breath you took in the house. Between those conversations, you and Luca find each other in quiet hallways, behind open doors, and tucked behind lockers for tiny moments to talk and show each other that you’re okay. The worry goes both ways: Luca is worried about your injury and you’re worried about his happiness and carrying residual concern about losing sight of him during the raid. The little moments aren’t enough, but they’re something, and your team helps you find every spare second you can.

Hiding behind Hondo so it appears that he and Luca are simply facing opposite directions to bide time, you ask, “Can I come over tonight?”

“If you think there’s another option, we need to get your head checked.”

“Sergeant Hondo, we’re ready for you,” someone calls before you duck around a corner and return to solitude.

Twenty minutes later, Hicks and Hondo exit his office together.

“20 Squad!” Hicks calls.

You join Deacon’s side, and he offers you an arm, unsure what the extent of your injury is. You smile and thank him, but don’t have a chance to tell him why you said no before Hicks dismisses you.

“IA has cleared all of you, you’re free to go home and get some rest,” he adds. “Sorry again about all of this, but…”

“We know how it is,” Deacon responds.

You take Luca’s hand as you walk to the locker room, and don’t let go as you gather your things and walk to his truck. The ride to his house is spent in silence. There’s too much to say, too many emotions involved, to have the conversation in the car.

Luca helps you inside and invites you to get comfortable. Once you’re in his bed, he climbs beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Turning slightly, you let Luca rest his head on your shoulder as his other arm lies gently across your waist.

“Are you okay?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back.

Luca moves slightly, and you suddenly realize that he’s crying. You slide down in the bed, not caring that it hurts, to take his face in your hands.

“Luca,” you murmur, holding him tightly. “It’s okay.”

You fall silent then and let Luca release all the emotions he’s been carrying since this morning. Several minutes later, he quiets but keeps his arm around you as you hold him.

“I’m okay,” you promise softly. “I’m sorry.”

Luca shakes his head, silently promising he’s not angry with you. “I thought I was going to lose you. It terrified me.”

“Hey,” you whisper, encouraging him to look into your eyes. “I’m never leaving you.”

“You can’t make that promise.”

You nod, then amend, “I’m not leaving you, not without a fight. I’ll come back to you, even if I’m crawling, okay?”

Luca hugs you tightly, then releases you to say, “Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?”

You laugh at his reaction, getting close to him again. “I’m great now. I love you, Luca.”

“I love you,” he replies. “I’m not leaving you either.”

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t punch anyone in IA.”

Luca groans, dropping his head against your shoulder. You feel whole again beside Luca despite the pain and fear of the day. Luca’s phone vibrates with a text from Street asking when Luca will cook to thank them for helping you today, and though you ignore it, knowing that your team cares about you and your relationship makes everything a little better.

[rockermybuddie]

Mistake

Rocker x reader

Story 2

Summary: You wake up realizing you probably just made the worst mistake in your whole career. In a panic you go over to Chris’s for her advice. But how does Rocker feel?

————

You open your eyes and look up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Your eyes wonder to the blank white walls then to the navy dresser. “Shit” you say quietly when you remember last night.

You look over to your left and see Rocker fast asleep. You quietly get out of the bed trying not to wake him.

You look for your clothes but cant find your underwear, then you remember Rocker ripping them off. “No underwear it is.” You say to yourself.

“Leaving already?” You jump at the sound of Rockers voice. He laughs. “Not funny Rocker.” You snap. “Come on, dont leave yet. We dont have shift today.” He asks opening his arms for you to crawl into.

As bad as you want to you know you shouldn’t. “I cant Rocker. We shouldn’t of even done what we did last night.” You tell him as you make your way down stairs to retrieve your top in the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” He asks concerned following you closely behind. “This, this was a one time thing.” You say pointing your finger between you and him.

“Babe, we are great together.” Rocker begs. “Yeah and seeing you almost die stirred my feelings. But my career Rocker.” You tell him. It hurts you just as much knowing you two cant date but SWAT is important, without it you dont know what to do.

“Its just a piece of paper we have to sign.” Rocker tells you. You roll your eyes he doesn’t understand how dating the leader of a squad being just an officer how that can change how people see you.

You grab your gun from the drawer he put it in last night and your badge as you make your way to the door.

“Sweetheart please. Lets talk about this. Us.” Rocker begs trying to reach for your hand. “No Rocker.” You swat his hand away and open the door going straight to your car.

Its hard not to look back at Rocker standing in the doorway watching you leave. Rocker rubs a hand down his face as he watches you drive away.

You text Chris askingher if she was awake, when she replied you were on the way to her apartment.

“Chris i messed up.” You say as soon as she opens her door. “Slow down, what happened?” She asks as you pace around her apartment.

“I slept with Rocker.” You start off with. She raises her eyebrows as she listens to you explain what happened from when you all got back to HQ to this morning.

“That can not happen again.” She says. “Yeah i know. And it wont.” You tell her. “Then it shouldn’t be a problem hes not your squad leader.” She tells you.

“No one can find out about this.” You say. “And they wont. You tell Rocker that?” She asks. “I told him that this could mess with my career.” You look at Chris with a worried expression, what if Rocker tells someone? Then its going to spread that you slept with him.

“I don’t think Rocker would intentionally hurt your career but you better have a conversation with him. One that wont lead you two in bed.” Chris says with her stern voice. “Thanks Chris.” You tell her.

Chris has been with the team for years, being the only woman on SWAT must of been hard. She was so welcoming of you when you joined. The two of you clicked instantly when you joined.

Getting back in your car you head back to your apartment to take a shower.

———

When you get put of your shower theres a knock at your door. You go to answer.

“Rocker? Whatvare you doing here?” You ask in surprise not expecting to see him again so soon. “We need to talk about us.” He says looking down at you. He tries to keep his eyes on your face but your hair is up in a towel, your shirt fits you just right and your shorts are real short showing your soft smooth plump thighs.

You hesitate if you should let him in your apartment going back to yours and Chris”s conversation. Your apartment would be an easy place to end up back in bed.

“Are you going to let me in?” Rocker asks when you haven’t moved from the doorway. His voice sounded so authoritative you moved out of habit and he walked right in.

“I cant be with you and be on SWAT. It wont work.” You tell him. Maybe if you be straight up this conversation can end quicker.

“It can work. We just dont tell anyone and till we have to.” Rocker says. “That is literally the stupidest thing to ever come out of your mouth.” You roll your eyes. You cant believe he just said that.

“Please. After last night i cant see myself being happy with anyone else.” Rocker begs. “We slept together once and you made up your mind?” You snap, he sounds like every man the next day after hooking up.

“I’ve had my eyes on you the day you joined SWAT. I knew i was/am going to end up with you one way or another.” He tells you. You blush at that since you knew he had his eyes on you but never took it this serious.

“Maybe if one of us moves stations or something. It wont work right now. I know neither of us is going to want to move. Rocker i, i like you. But dating you could risk my reputation as a SWAT officer. You know why.” You tell him, looking him straight in the eyes so he knows you’re serious, even though he is taking this conversation seriously.

“Yeah, I understand.” He says in a disappointed voice. His head drops down between his shoulders as he heads towards the door.

“One last time?” You ask, you didnt even think before those words came out of your mouth but i was too late to take them back.

Rocker crossed the room in one step scooping you up so you were straddling him as he crashes his lips down on yours.

He lays you down on your counter as he lifts off your shirt. The cold marble on your back making your nipples hard.

Rocker kisses his was down your body sucking here and there as his hands remove your shorts.

Once he got your shorts and underwear off he starts softly sucking on your lips as he takes in your scent.

A soft moan escapes as he runs his tongue across you. You grip the back of his head as he begins sucking and moving his tongue around inside of you.

Part of you was sad when he kissed his way back up but was fulfilled when his cock took its place inside of you.

You didnt even realize Rocker was naked he had you in a fantasy.

Rocker held you in place with a hand on top of your head, hand tangled in your hair as he thrusted in and out of you on the slippery counter.

Everytime he slammed his hips into you small screams escaped but was covered by his mouth on top of yours in a wet deep kiss.

You felt Rocker pull out and wuick after felt the sticky substance on your stomach. You didnt care though, it was going to take a while to get off this counter.

Rocker grabbed a hand towel and wiped you clean. You sat up on the counter getting down, grabbing onto Rocker for support because your legs are weak.

“If its gonna be our last time had to make it the best sweetheart.” Rocker says helping you catch your balance. “Yes never again.” You match the disappointment in your voice with his. But its for the best.

You both get dressed and Rocker heads to the door to leave. “Bye Rocker. See you around.” You say.

“Bye honey.” Rocker says opening the door. You watch Rocker leave, you wish the two of you could be together but your career comes first.

You decide not to tell Chris about having sex with Rocker a second time. It doesn’t matter because its the last….

————

[imaginepsyche]

I only just got into swat not long ago and had fallen in love with Luca. This was really cute! I loved reading it!

high stakes [ dominique luca ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; with the annual police verses fire department tournament just around the corner, you catch luca teeter on the edge of his stress // @b-uckyreadss​

⋯ PROMPT ; [ fictional couples 1 ] taking each other’s hands during a stressful situation, instantly reliveing the pressure of the situation

⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, slight angst [ stress + bad coping methods ] + general fluff [ hurt // comfort ]

you watch from afar as luca strapped his knuckles for what seemed like the twentieth that week – all in preparation of the police verses fire department tournament that he had long been looking froward to since it was announced.

it had also been something he had talked about non-stop. and seeing as he was placed to arm wrestle one of the firefighters from the 126, it seemed to only heighten the intensity of the match set to play out.

Keep reading

[megalony]

Is She Okay?

This is my first imagine for Donovan Rocker from Swat, thank you to Anon for sending this idea in I loved writing it and hope to do a follow up soon.

I'd love to know what you all think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro

Swat Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: While (Y/n) is on restricted duties at Swat, she starts to feel unwell, but doesn't want to bother the team, especially her husband. But they have to race back to help her when they realise something is very wrong with her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) dragged her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes for a few moments. She took a few deep breaths through her nose, exhaling through her mouth to see if it would do anything to ward off the headache building up behind her eyes like a storm.

The deep breaths seemed to work, until she opened her eyes again. Black spots danced before her eyes and a gasp caught in her throat when her sense of balance became distorted. She wobbled to the left, slumping against the doorframe that stopped her from going down to her knees on the floor.

She swiped the back of her hand against her temple and rolled her eyes from side to side until her vision came back into focus. While her other hand latched around the tablet she was holding and pinned it to her chest so she didn't drop it. The last thing she needed was to break any of the equipment here at work.

It took a few moments for her system to level out again and a tremble rattled through her body when she pushed off the wall and held herself up again.

Maybe these infrequent spells were signals that she needed a drink or something to eat, it was almost lunchtime after all.

Being on Swat meant that for the most part, (Y/n) was used to eating a balanced diet and the work outs meant she at least drank enough fluids throughout each day. But it also meant that sometimes meal times were skewed and forgotten if they had a big mission or if they had too many call outs during the day and not enough time to come back to headquarters and eat.

She was used to it. They all got used to the varied meal times after a while.

The baby was changing things now.

(Y/n) had done well so far not to be too weighed down by morning sickness, she was relatively untouched by that side effect. But for the last two days, dizzy spells had started to become a frequent friend and (Y/n) wondered if it was because she needed a bit of sugar or a drink to perk herself back up.

She dragged her hand down the back of her neck and dared to glance her eyes down, feeling a smile creep onto her face when she noticed her small bump.

"Don't do that again," She murmured quietly to herself, letting her hand wander down to her stomach for a brief moment before she tried to carry on walking.

Her head tilted to one side and she blearily stared down at the tablet in her hand, scrolling through the dreaded pages of information that was starting to blur before her eyes. Each word was jumbling up from the amount of files (Y/n) had been scrolling and reading through today, let alone the last few weeks.

She made a slow walk out of the computer room and advanced towards the gym. She wasn't too sure where she was going, just that she wanted to get away from all the screens that were making her feel worse. (Y/n) was used to being up and running about for over twelve hours a day, she needed to keep moving around headquarters rather than sitting doing nothing.

She scrolled through the pages, not really taking anymore of the information in, but she stopped when a familiar voice caught her attention.

"So it's true then?"

Her gaze darted up from the tablet and she paused near the boxing ring. A grin formed on her lips and she lifted her head when her eyes locked on Deacon walking her way. He had one brow raised and he moved his hand to point to her slightly rounded stomach.

They were on different teams, while Deacon was second in command on Hondo's team, (Y/n) was in Rocker's team. They didn't often get to work together, but that didn't mean they didn't have banter together and they were often found training and sparring in the gym in their spare time.

Deacon was someone who (Y/n) got along with and someone who never teased or chastised her for her relationship with Rocker. He never said a thing about her being on her husband's team. No one really made a big thing about it, but some people like to jest and it did get tiring, especially when people tried to say that Rocker might just give (Y/n) special treatment.

"Yep, you've lost your sparring partner." Her free hand moved to her hip as Deacon stood in front of her with a calming smile.

(Y/n) and Rocker didn't want to broadcast the news, but things spread quickly at Swat and it couldn't be kept under wraps. Not when (Y/n) had to tell the Commander immediately so she wouldn't be put in harm's way. Everyone on the team had to know why (Y/n) suddenly wasn't going out on missions with them and was reduced to staying back at headquarters.

And once their team knew, it was only a matter of time before the news spread around the rest of the teams and the officers here. Word seemed to have gone full circle and got to Hondo's team now.

"You getting used to life behind the desk?"

Restricted duties had never felt so boring.

(Y/n) had the baby to thank for that. No more missions. No more walking- or sometimes running- into dangerous situations. She could accompany officers on house calls and work with the police on any cases they were helping with, but even then she couldn't go to big scenes in case anything happened. (Y/n) was a helping pair of hands and that meant she was almost always staying here in the computer room.

She handled sensitive information, found criminal files, floor plans and maps, building plans. She contacted the judges for warrants and made all the boring phone calls so the rest of her team could go straight out on their missions.

"Not really, it's so boring."

A jolt ran through her system and she almost dropped the tablet in her hand when a strong arm suddenly bound around her waist.

She let her head flop back against Rocker's shoulder when she felt his hard chest press up into her back and a soft kiss pressed into the top of her hair. She couldn't help the way her lips curved up into a grin when she realised Rocker had his hand splayed out on her stomach and his thumb began to trace up and down over her shirt.

"I think the word you're looking for is safe." He corrected, speaking into her hair as he kissed her head again and his eyes creased into a smile when he looked over at Deacon.

They were always professional when they were on shift, they had to be. Rocker was in charge of the team and he couldn't be seen to be going easy or paying favourable attention to his wife. If that happened (Y/n) would be moved off his team and no one would trust him to be in charge if he couldn't remain neutral and fair.

But now that (Y/n) was behind a desk rather than out in the field, they could afford to be a bit more open with affection. A hug here and a peck there wasn't going to be seen as Rocker favouritising (Y/n). He could hardly do that when she wasn't allowed on any mission, she couldn't take the lead in a raid and she wasn't out there with the rest of them.

They didn't have to be strictly professional when they were here at base, no one batted an eyelid if Rocker wrapped himself around his wife and gave her a kiss.

(Y/n) hummed and nodded. Safe was the right word, but boring fit just as adequately.

"So, you're a person down."

"I had to draft in Jones to make up the numbers." Rocker glanced behind him but he couldn't see where Jones had wandered off to.

Rocker couldn't go into situations a person down, he had to have enough people so everyone had back up when they went into unknown, risky situations. He had been given freedom to pick anyone he wanted to join the team for a short while.

It had been made perfectly clear to Jones that this wasn't permanent, he wasn't going to be on Rocker's team for more than a year at most. The moment (Y/n) was ready to come back off maternity leave, Jones would be reduced back to one of the lesser teams they had for bank staff and in case of emergencies. (Y/n)'s spot was always going to be there for her.

Before her and Chris, they didn't have women in Swat so there was never a part in the contract about maternity leave. But they drafted in the same terms and conditions for a regular police officer. And (Y/n)'s spot would have to remain open for her after her leave because if not, then they would be discriminating against her.

"He's got nothing on sweetheart though, and her pretty face."

(Y/n) snapped her head to the right and looked over at Adam who was stood near the punching bag.

He was a joker, but he was only jesting, he meant no harm. Everyone on their team had started to call (Y/n) sweetheart after they heard Rocker let it slip one day at work. They were all so used to seeing Rocker be distant and controlled and a bit stern at times, so to see him be soft around (Y/n), especially at work, was a rarity.

"Glad to know you miss me." (Y/n) murmured back while she let her upper chest lean back into Rocker a bit more. And it caused his arm to tighten around her waist

"Least we still get to hear your melodic voice through the comms, right?" It wasn't as if (Y/n) was on leave yet, for the next few months they would just have to wait to see her here at base and hear her giving them directions and information through the radio.

"Careful." Rocker didn't look very impressed. They were still at work and this was (Y/n) Adam was joking to and about.

The smile on Adam's face dampened and he huffed, giving (Y/n) a brief look of contempt before he went back to beating the punch bag. He had been told, and he wasn't about to push the boundaries and get on Rocker's bad side.

When Deacon murmured "I'll catch you in a bit," and patted (Y/n)'s shoulder, she nodded and watched him head past them towards the kitchen.

(Y/n) found her mind drifting off again but static started to build up in her ears when her head started to fog up and she felt like all the blood was draining down to her toes. Maybe she needed to go and get a drink to see if that would make her feel any better. She had felt better when she was on eighteen hour shifts without a chance to sit down, than how she felt right now.

"Okay sweetheart, I-" Rocker started when he finally found the will to move his hand from her stomach that was always capturing his attention just lately.

But he paused when he tried to take a step back and when his arm retracted from (Y/n)'s waist, she stumbled back towards him. Both his hands reached out and he grabbed her hips, stepping forward again to steady her before she lost her balance and fell flat on the floor.

His brows furrowed and he leaned his head down to look at her in confusion. She hadn't been leaning that heavily on him, he thought she would have found her balance if he moved.

"You okay?"

"Yeah…" She took a second to find her footing and make sure she was properly on her feet again before she twisted her head to look up at him. "Just wasn't expecting my leaning post to move."

It seemed a safer bet than admitting to Rocker that she had gone a bit dizzy and lost her balance when he moved. If she told him then he would worry and there was no sense in that. Not when (Y/n) wasn't going out on any missions, she wouldn't be putting the team at risk. She was staying here, doing the boring tasks no one else wanted to do.

Her breath got caught in her lungs when Rocker cupped her chin and tilted her head back so their gazes interlocked. The way he arched a brow and his lips set into a straight line had her stomach fluttering with adrenaline and made her feel even more lightheaded than before.

He seemed to study her for a moment, making sure she was actually alright and there was nothing wrong that he should be worrying about.

"Hm. Well I've got a meeting with the Commander, then I'll see you for the briefing after lunch, okay?"

"Off you go, boss."

She stayed put as he pressed a quick but searing kiss to her lips and her eyes followed him as he headed off towards the corridor. Shoulders broad and confident and towering over everyone he passed.

A briefing, then more and more paperwork until all (Y/n) would be able to see were letters and numbers dancing before her eyes.

She would be fine, she would just be bored.

***

(Y/n) could feel another headache forming and she dragged her hand across her face, wiping off the beads of sweat starting to glisten on her skin.

She wanted to go home. She hadn't been on shift for that long and already she was feeling like she would be more use sitting at home than hanging around here. She could barely read the files she was so dizzy, it was taking twice as long when (Y/n) had to reread each line to make sure she was reading it correctly.

It didn't help matters that Rocker and the team were already out on a call, so it wasn't as if (Y/n) could go and take a break.

When the team was out, (Y/n) was their eyes and ears. She read the maps, she scoured through the files and she checked the building plans and gave them directions. She had to be here in the control room and she had to be ready at the computer in case the team needed any specifics.

Hearing Rocker's voice come through the radio was calming and it made (Y/n) feel a bit better. She felt useful when Rocker was asking her questions and involving her, and all (Y/n) wanted was to still be part of the team and do her job the best she could.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) pressed her right hand down on the table that had three different computers open with different files and building layouts displayed before her blurring eyes. She leaned her weight on her hand and bowed her head forward as she closed her eyes.

Her other hand moved from wiping her brow to cradling her stomach that was churning with adrenaline and the need to be sick.

She tried to brush her thumb up and down across her small bump in the way that Rocker had become accustomed to doing, hoping it might do something to calm her down and make her feel better.

(Y/n) quickly moved her hand from her stomach to her mouth and held her breath deep in her lungs, willing herself not to be sick. Not here, not when she was at work. When the mission was over, she could rip out the ear piece and go hide in the toilets until her team came back.

She took a few calming breaths when the sickness subsided and tried to stand up straight again, but she realised she was starting to shake. Why did she have to become dizzy now? Why couldn't this have waited until tomorrow when she had a day off? Or tonight when she and Rocker went home? Why when she was in the middle of a call?

"(Y/n)?"

"Hm?" She tried to tune back into the conversation and listen to Rocker and the team rattling through the speaker clipped around her ear.

"The building, when did construction start?" The slight hesitation in Rocker's voice silently told (Y/n) that he had already asked that question and she must have tuned him out while she tried to quench her sickness.

Her trembling hands moved to the counter and she leaned forward, squinting hard to look at the different computer screens to find the right one.

Why were they all so bright? Why were they a mix of hazy blue, brilliant white and tiny black letters that were almost indecisive? Why was it so hard to focus on what she was trying to read when only a few days ago she hadn't been having these problems or headaches of this magnitude?

"Two weeks ago." She knew her voice sounded feeble but she tried to take deep breaths and control each word. She didn't want Rocker worrying because worry caused distractions and they couldn't afford to be distracted, not in their line of work.

Twisting to look at the screen on her left, (Y/n) followed the little red dot that was bleeping every second and steadily moving forwards. It was the tracker on the jeep the team were in. She was keeping track of them, guiding them towards the building because she had a layout of the city and the traffic updates.

If there were any accidents or collisions or road works, (Y/n) would see them before the team and she could divert them a different way.

Her blinking eyes pushed away tears as she used her trembling finger to follow the little blinking dot and try to figure out how close they were to the building they were going to burst into.

"Turn left, Joe."

She arched her back out again and looked to a different screen once she heard him mutter a quiet but confident 'okay'. While Hondo had Luca as their dedicated driver, Rocker's team had Joe and he had a need for speed. He was their go to driver.

"Damn it- Rock, that's a one way street, I can't go that way." Confusion plastered across Joe's face and he slammed his hand down on the steering wheel.

Why had (Y/n) directed him the wrong way down a one way street?

He turned in his seat to lean out the window, hand clinging to the open windowsill as he revved the engine and put it into reverse. He sped down the street, hearing the tyres screech against the gravel as he spun to the left and got them back on the road they had previously been driving on.

They couldn't be doing that. (Y/n) couldn't be directing them down the wrong roads it would only cause delays and if he went the wrong way down that road he could cause a crash and get them all into trouble that they didn't need.

"Brooke street?" There was hesitation in (Y/n)'s voice which took the whole team by surprise and they shared odd looks with one another.

"What, no that's across town, what map are you reading, Rock?"

"Alright, give it a rest. Carry on ahead and take the next right, we're still on track." Rocker leaned forward and swatted his hand down on Joe's shoulder, a silent warning for him to let this go.

There was no need for him to get snappy with (Y/n), she had made a minor mistake and it wasn't going to derail the plan or cause any backfire. They were still on time and on the right road, they could take a different diversion. Rocker didn't want any of the team snapping and arguing with each other, much less arguing with (Y/n) when she wasn't even here and she was doing her best.

She was doing the job no one else wanted to do back at headquarters, they didn't have to give her a hard time about it.

"Do you have the building layout to send me?" Rocker looked down at the tablet in his hand and waited patiently for (Y/n) to send the document over.

He needed a visual of the inside of the building so they weren't going to get stumped or confused when they barged in. And they needed to know the emergency exits in case anyone inside tried to make a quick escape or in case any of them got delayed and had to find a different way out.

When an email popped up, Rocker opened it and started scanning through, but his head ticked to one side and his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Boss?" Adam leaned over to try and look at the tablet but he pulled back when Rocker sat up straight with a perplexed look.

"No, (Y/n) I need the layout-" He paused mid-sentence when he heard her murmur 'no' and something else that none of them could quite make out in the background.

What was she doing?

"Rock, you good?"

Each of them began to feel anxious when they didn't get a reply. This wasn't like (Y/n). She was usually on form with everything. And while she had been confined to headquarters, she had done them all proud and made it her mission to do the best she could. She was usually on hand with sending over information and she redirected them faster than Joe could comprehend or try to catch up.

She made jokes and she kept them talking and fed them information like she was a record that couldn't stop. She was great at her job, but she seemed off kilter today. Something wasn't right and it was putting them all on edge.

Rocker heard Joe mumble "Is she okay?" and he was glad he detected worry in his voice and not sarcasm.

"(Y/n) what's the matter?" A dark tone flooded Rocker's voice as a gritty edge cut along his words.

He knew his wife and he could tell there was something strange in her voice, it was like she wasn't giving them her full attention. Like something was going on back at the base that none of them knew about.

He rolled his lips together and moved his hand to cover his ear to try and listen better to the distant sounds coming through the comms. He could hear (Y/n) tapping something and after a second or two, he was sure she muttered 'it's broken'.

Had a piece of equipment broke? Had one of the computers crashed and that was what was causing the slight disruption and (Y/n)'s lack of focus?

When a quiet but nevertheless audible "Good," came through the speaker, Rocker let out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding in. Maybe she had fixed something.

"How many people are inside?"

"F-five… six…?" Her reply sounded more like a question and the broken fragments of answers made Rocker grit his teeth. What was wrong with his wife today?

"Which is it?"

Rocker's eyes snapped up to look at Josh and his look was one that could have killed. Something wasn't right and he didn't need the team getting impatient and rude with (Y/n).

"(Y/n)?" He couldn't help the edge of worry that slipped into his voice and he knew all the team could sense it. They could sense how he was holding himself with a bit more unease and a lot more tension and it was lowering his patience.

The words 'are you okay' were on the tip of Rocker's tongue and he was about to break and let the concerned side of him show until (Y/n)'s voice came through the speaker again.

"Six."

There was a bit more determination in her voice and six sounded about right for the suspects they had been informed about and were here to arrest. They didn't need anymore information yet and Rocker could see they were almost at the building now.

"Everybody out. Stay sharp, no heroics."

He had to push the worry to the back of his mind, but even as he climbed out the truck and headed to the front of the group, he could see (Y/n)'s image flashing before his eyes.

Was she okay?

***

The call out couldn't have ended a moment sooner. When the team were gathered back around the truck, Rocker took off his helmet and tilted his head back as his eyes fell closed.

He took a moment to catch his breath back and gather his wits and senses before he turned his attention to the ear piece wedged in his ear. He hadn't heard (Y/n) speak for a while, although that would be because the team had infiltrated the building and were giving their locations to each other. (Y/n) would only pipe up if something was wrong or she was going to give them some valuable information.

"(Y/n), let Hicks know we've handed the suspects over, and then I think you need to let someone else take over the comms."

Rocker did his best to control his tone and make sure (Y/n) knew he wasn't trying to reprimand her for anything and he wasn't angry. He was worried. Whatever happened during that mission wasn't normal, (Y/n) didn't sound well and Rocker needed her to go and take a break and let someone else guide them over the comms system for their next call out.

He waved at the team and pointed to the truck, a silent command for them to get inside so they could all head back to base.

"Hurts…"

"What?" A panic-stricken expression fell over Rocker's face as he bristled and stopped in his tracks.

Everyone heard it.

All of them heard (Y/n)'s frail, croaky voice through the comms and each of them frowned at one another and paused, straining their ears to listen for any sound or other words in the background.

"(Y/n)? Sweetheart talk to me."

No one commented about the nickname, they were too panicked to make light and joke of the word. Besides, that would have been normal over the comms anyway, there was no chance of being classed unprofessional over the line with a few nicknames or caring words here and there.

A jolt ran through them all when Rocker slammed his hand down on the side of the truck and clambered inside with Josh following after him.

"Get us back to base now." The words hissed past Rocker's lips while his back straightened and pressed up against the wall and his hands began to tap and clench over his thighs.

(Y/n) wasn't responding. She wasn't answering any of them, she had been acting funny and not seeming herself over the radio for a while now and she had just told them something hurt. She wasn't well and Rocker needed to get back to base as soon as possible and find out what was going on with his wife.

The ride back was as chaotic as it was uncomfortable. None of them spoke other than to whisper (Y/n)'s name through the comms and wait in vain to see if she responded. They all clung to the hand rails above their heads and felt like sardines being squashed about with the sharp cutting corners Joe was taking and the speed he drove to get them back. All with the lights blazing so other drivers on the road knew to get out his way.

They were in a hurry.

Before the truck was even in park, Rocker was throwing the back doors open and climbing down. His feet barely touched the floor as he bolted to the side door, swiping his keycard across to get himself inside as fast as humanly possible.

He unclipped his bullet proof vest and hooked it over his head, tossing it down on one of the work benches he past. He wasn't sure where he was heading. Would (Y/n) still be in the computer room? Would she have tried to go to the toilets if she felt ill? Maybe she had gone to the kitchen for something or to be out the way of others? Would she be in the locker room?

He had no idea, but his first instinct was to check the computer room because that was where she had to of been when they were on their mission. She had been feeding them information, granted, she had been confused, but she would of been in that room with the monitors and the GPS tracking system and the big screen.

His boots thundered against the floor as he skidded round a corner, almost crashing into Hondo on his way past. He waved a hand at the other team leader, barely sparing a glance his way as he rushed ahead and burst into the computer room.

His rabid eyes roamed around the room but his heart jumped up into his throat when he set his sights on his wife.

He could barely see her. (Y/n) was on her knees in front of the desk in the centre of the room. Her arms were hidden against her chest and her upper body was curled over her knees with her forehead tucked down against the floor. She looked like she was in some kind of safe position as if she were on an aeroplane about to crash land.

Rocker bolted forward and crashed down to his knees beside her. He didn't quite know what to do or where to try and touch her, he wasn't even sure if she was conscious or not.

"Rocker, everything alright in here?"

"Boss, is she okay?"

Hondo and the rest of Rocker's team crowded in the doorway, no one brave enough to step over the threshold and crowd the couple, but everyone desperate to see inside and find out what was going on.

"Someone get me a first aid kit."

When Rocker heard footsteps disappearing which meant someone had heeded his orders, he shuffled a bit closer to (Y/n). He did his best to wiggle an arm between her knees and her chest and with his other hand braced on the back of her neck, he carefully reeled her back up so they were level. He leaned forward to get within (Y/n)'s line of sight and he could of cried when he saw her eyes flutter and squint to try and focus on him.

"Sweetheart, talk to me. What's the matter, hm?" He brushed his thumb across her chin and tilted her head back when she tried to flop her head forward.

He could feel his jaw grinding down hard when he moved his hand to press against her forehead.

She was burning up. Sweat was trickling down her skin and coating her arms and Rocker realised she was subtly trembling. It didn't help that he couldn't be certain whether she had passed out and just come round again or if she had stayed conscious all this time.

"Felt dizzy, a-and drained." (Y/n) couldn't help but whimper when Rocker's hand left her temple and she found herself leaning forward, chasing his touch. She tried to flop forward into him but her breath caught in her lungs when his hand cupped her cheek and tilted her head back up to look at him.

"Since when?" The look in his eyes told her not to bother lying to him as he moved his thumb beneath her eye to see if her pupils were constricted or not.

"Two… maybe three days."

(Y/n) didn't like the way he shook his head at her or how his upper lip curled. She didn't have to say anything more for him to understand. She hadn't wanted to tell him or the team because she wanted to do her job, she wanted to be useful. She wanted to do whatever she could for the team and not be thought of as a burden or some kind of ornament. (Y/n) was very limited in what she could do, whatever was left for her to work on she wanted to do it efficiently.

And being a member of Swat meant they pushed through meager headaches and light dizzy spells that came and went. It meant being better than the average person, doing ten times more work and in harder conditions.

(Y/n) could hardly complain that she felt under the weather when she was barely doing anything at all.

"Here." Joe knelt down at Rocker's side and opened the first aid kit for him and he took a moment to take in (Y/n)'s condition and see how bad she was. Now he felt bad for being snappy over the comms earlier. Something was very wrong with her. She wasn't well and none of them had noticed soon enough.

Rocker kept his left arm around (Y/n)'s front and let her lean her left shoulder and cheek against his chest. He didn't mind propping her up, it was better than having her keel over on the floor again.

He grabbed the thermometer from the box and gently pressed it into her ear, but when it beeped, he could barely find the ability to keep breathing properly.

"Thirty-nine point five, she's burning up." That wasn't good. She had a fever and she was barely lucid. This meant a hospital visit.

When a quiet murmur left (Y/n)'s lips, Rocker leaned his head to the left and glanced down at her with an arched brow. "What, sweetheart?"

His nose crinkled and he huffed, both shoulders deflating when (Y/n) suddenly lurched over his arm and threw up. Both her hands reached up to cling to his bicep that was strapped across the front of her chest and she felt his other hand rubbing up and down her back as she coughed and threw up what little dinner she had managed to eat earlier today.

"Okay, we're going to the emergency room now. Let's get you up, sweetheart." Rocker didn't have a choice. If they didn't get her fever under control and find out why she was sick she was only going to get worse and he couldn't take that risk. Not when he knew a fever and an underlining cause could easily cause complications with the baby.

He kept his left arm around her chest and his right arm swooped down her waist to hold her hip. He pushed up from his knees and carefully reeled (Y/n) up with him and he nodded at Joe who leaned forward and took her elbow to try and help get her onto shaking legs.

Each of them could see that (Y/n) didn't hold the strength to keep herself upright and her head flopped onto Rocker's shoulder as she leaned more and more into his chest until her knees were almost caving in.

"I don't think she's walking out of here." Hondo spared a worried glance towards the couple before he flagged down Deacon. They had to go and tell Hicks what had happened and since Adam had the rank of thirty-David, he would be next in command until Rocker got back. Whenever that may be.

Rocker absentmindedly nodded and mumbled a soft "Up we go," as he unravelled his left arm from (Y/n)'s chest and swooped it beneath her legs instead.

He wasn't going to get far unless Joe helped him drag (Y/n) out of here and that wouldn't be fair nor dignified. The only option he had was to carry her out to the car and take her to the hospital.

It proved to Rocker that his wife really was in a bad way because if she were more herself, she would of protested him picking her up and carrying her anywhere in front of the rest of Swat. But she didn't make one grumble or remark. All she did was smother her burning temple against his shoulder and loop her arms sluggishly around his neck.

He had a feeling she would pass out before he got her to hospital.

Rocker ignored the eyes burning into him, the frantic stares being cast their way and the fact that every member of Swat stopped what they were doing to watch him carry his wife out of here. He had to get her to the emergency room and make sure she and the baby were okay.

"You just stay awake with me, sweetheart." He muttered softly against her temple as he twisted to the side and used his shoulder to push open the door leading to the car park. "You're gonna be fine."