#swat imagine

[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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[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.

[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.

….

[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

[nemolfc]

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.

[ac-19]

Call - Miguel Alfaro (S.W.A.T)

Summary: when your partner dies after a drive by shooting, miguel calls the only person he knew could help you.

I didn't know how long I had been sitting in our backyard going over that moment in my head before the sound of the doorbell pulled me away from my thoughts. I pushed myself up and made my way inside and pulled open the front door.

"Jim."

"You should have called me. I'm your brother after all."

I sighed as I pulled the door fully open and motioned for him to come inside.

"Come in."

Jim walked inside Miguel and I's shared townhouse and I closed the door behind him and followed him to the living room.

"Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Beer?"

Jim shook his head.

"Cut the crap (Y/N). It's just me and you. You don't have to pretend anymore."

I sighed as I ran a hand over my face.

"Who called you? My chief?"

"Alfaro."

Jim nodded at my probably stunned expression. Sure, they had "made up", but there was still some friction between those two that I don't think could ever be resolved.

"He swallowed a lot of pride for you."

I nodded.

"I didn't call anybody if that makes you feel any better."

"I heard. I also heard you haven't cried since it happened and you're going back to work tomorrow?"

"Jesus. What didn't he tell you?"

"He's worried about you. And frankly so am I."

I shook my head.

"I'm good, nothing to worry about."

Jim nodded.

"That's how you want to play this?"

"I'm not playing. I'm good."

"You're partner died. You're not good, and you don't have to pretend in front of me. Or Alfaro for that matter."

I shook my head.

"Say something. Scream, cry, break some damn dishes. I don't care, but you've got to let it out somehow."

"What do you want me to say, Jim? That it should have been me that got shot and not her? Or that were paramedics, and we shouldn't even of gotten shot at at all?"

Jim nodded.

"She had three months on the job. I was supposed to train her. I was supposed to protect her. It should of been me that died and not her."

"Remember what I told you when Nate died?"

I nodded.

"You told me the exact same thing I just told you. I know."

"And what did you tell me?"

"That you could keep holding onto that guilt, or you could celebrate Nate's life and honor him everyday in everything that you do."

I nodded as the tears welled up in my eyes and for the first time since the doctor told me that my partner didn't make it, I actually cried.

Jim walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me and held onto me tightly as I cried in his arms. Slowly he led me to the couch and I curled up in his arms and cried like I did when we were younger.

After a few hours of crying, a quick nap and a call with my Chief letting him know that I was in fact going to take him up on his offer to have a few shifts off after all I ushered Jim out of my house assuring him that I was fine and that I would call him if I wasn't.

I looked at the time and Miko was still on shift for a few hours but I needed to get out of the house and go somewhere else so I drove down to SWAT HQ and walked inside.

Deacon was the first to see me and gave me and empathetic look as he walked over to me and gave me a hug.

"I'm sorry for your loss (Y/N)."

I nodded as we pulled away from each other.

"Thank you Deac. Is Miguel around?"

He nodded.

"He was in the kitchen last I saw him."

I nodded.

"Annie wanted to bring you some food but she didn't want to intrude."

I forced out a smile.

"I could really go for Annie's cooking right about now."

He nodded.

"I'll tell her to swing by later."

I nodded as I made my way to kitchen hoping Miko was still there.

"(Y/N)."

I gave Miko a weak smile which he answered with a worried look.

"What's going on?"

"Thank you."

Miko furrowed his eyebrows.

"For?"

"Calling Street."

He nodded.

"It's my job to take care of you."

I smiled as Miko laid a soft kiss on my forehead.

"You don't need to shut me out okay?"

I nodded.

"Sharing my feelings and being vulnerable has always been hard for me but I'm gonna keep working on it okay?"

Miguel nodded as he pulled me in for a hug and I hugged him back best I could since he still had all his gear on.

"I love you."

"I love you more Miguel Alfaro."

His phone went off and I smiled up at him.

"Go save the world handsome."

He smiled as he gave me another kiss before we pulled away from each other.

"You gonna be okay?"

I nodded.

"Be safe out there."

He nodded as he walked out of the kitchen and I smiled to myself. I had finally found a good one.

[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.

[achilles-rage]

Deserving

summary: while your ex-boyfriend used to put you down for everything you did, deacon treats you exactly the way you deserve. when he asks you to meet his team, you can’t help your ex’s words coming back to you, and you’re afraid that they won’t think you’re good enough for him. he comforts you, and you finally agree to meet the team.

word count: 2.5k

request: anon- could i request a deacon x reader, where she is nervous to meet his team even though they have been dating for a little while. she’s afraid they might see her as not good enough for him. deacon can’t figure out why she doesn’t want to meet them at first.

A/N: you guys i can never take deacon requests seriously because all i see when i look at him is arthur’s brother from arthur christmas🫠 anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: none, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, insecure!reader, race inclusive!reader

“Why the hell are you wearing that?” your boyfriend asks harshly once you walk out of the bedroom, eyeing you angrily. 

It’s your anniversary, and you thought you’d surprise him with a brand new dress. You spent ages trying to find the perfect colour for your skin tone, and even bought a new necklace to match. You thought he might like it, but you were wrong. Again.

“I bought it for you. Thought you’d like it.” you tell him softly as you look down at the dress, trying to smooth it down over your chest and soft tummy. You’ve heard of guys that worship the ground their girlfriends walk on; loving to see, and touch, and feel their soft curves whenever they could. Your boyfriend was, evidently, not one of them. 

When you first started dating, he gave you compliments here and there, but never about anything specific. “You look good,” or “you look nice” is all you really remember him saying, but over time you grew to love him, which is why you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

The night ends with him dragging you out of the restaurant before your meals have even arrived. He behaves once you’re in the restaurant, pulling out your chair for you and holding your hand, but you know that it’s just for show; he’s still upset with you for your dress. It was too short, too tight, he had said. He didn’t want everyone to see him with you like that, and although you pretended to not know why, you’re sure it had to do with others seeing the dips and curves of your tummy, and your plush hips and thighs. 

He had raised his voice to almost a yell when you offered to change before you left, mumbling that you were already late enough as he made his way to the door and slammed it before you could make your way across the room.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” he seethes as he drags you through the parking lot, his hand grabbing your wrist harshly once you’re away from the wandering eyes of the restaurant.

“I don’t understand what I did.” you tell him softly, a hint of fear in your eyes as his footsteps echo on the concrete in front of you.

“No? You don’t remember when I told you what we were getting, and then when you corrected me in front of the waiter because you ‘didn’t want that?’ Made me look like a fucking idiot.” He opens your door for you and waits for you to get into the car, finally letting up on the tight grip on your wrist.

You get in silently, your fingers rubbing your wrist softly once you’re buckled in. He keeps his eyes on the road as he drives, jaw clenched and arms tense. You steal glances at him out of the corner of your eye, trying to will the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks away.

“I’m sorry.” you get out after a few minutes, your words cutting the tension inside of the car. Rather than your soft apology calming him down, his eyes dart over to yours as he puffs out his chest.

“You’re sorry? I don’t wanna fucking hear it. I can’t take you anywhere, can I? Fucking pathetic.” A tear finally makes its way down your cheek, and you try to wipe it away quickly, knowing he’ll yell again if he notices. Neither of you say a word the whole way home. You’re afraid anything you say will set him off again.

It's been almost two years since then, and you’ve been dating a man that’s completely different from your ex for almost a year. Deacon is everything you thought a man should be when you were a lovesick teenager. He does worship the ground you walk on, he brings you out to nice dinners, he buys you “just because” flowers. He’s perfect in every sense of the word, and the more he does for you, the more you forget about how your ex treated you.

Despite this, you can’t help your ex’s words nagging at you deep down. They echo through your head, telling you that you aren’t good enough. Frankly, it’s exhausting, but Deacon’s words are often able to cut through these words and drown them out. 

“You have the day off today?” he asks you, his voice just above a whisper. You two decided to spend a few minutes in bed together before starting the day, laying comfortably in each other’s arms.

Your cheek is resting on his chest, and you’re tracing soft patterns on his abdomen with your fingers as his thumb traces circles on your shoulder.

You hum softly as you nod, not trusting your voice this early in the morning. You raise your head from his chest and rest your chin on it, looking up at his face.

“Perfect. Maybe you could drive me to work? Meet the team?” he asks in a hopeful voice. He’s been trying to get you to meet the squad for almost as long as you’ve been together officially, but each time, you’re able to come up with a last minute excuse. Your best friend has food poisoning and they need your help, your neighbour called and needs help looking for their lost cat, you feel a migraine coming on and you need to rest. Honestly, if Deacon hadn’t already shown the team a few of his favourite photos of you two together, they would all think that you’re not real.

“Oh, um, I actually can’t.” you tell him in a soft voice, getting up and straddling his waist, aiming to distract him. He smiles as you straddle his lap, hands immediately going to your wide hips while his eyes trail down your figure in your oversized t-shirt. 

“Honey, everyone wants to meet you. I’ve been bragging about you since I first met you.” You smile softly at his praise, but you feel yourself biting the inside of your cheek as you think about it. 

As much as you want to meet his team, you’re much too nervous. You’ve grown more confident in yourself with Deacon’s help, but you can’t help feeling insecure as you think about being introduced to the most important people in Deacon’s life. What if they don’t think you’re good enough for him?

“I have to drive my friend to the airport.” you lie quickly, eyes darting away from his eyes for a moment as you trail your hands up and down his chest. He looks up at you, brows furrowed.

“I know you’re lying. You would’ve told me about that earlier than right now. Come on, what’s going on?” His eyes search your face, hoping to find some sort of clue, but your tense posture and slight frown give him nothing.

“I don’t want to meet them.” you whisper, afraid that if you speak any louder, your words will seem more harsh than you mean them to be. He frowns, reaching a hand up to your chin and forcing you to look back down at him. You see the confusion in his face, and you sigh. You’ve already said this much, you think, you might as well explain yourself. 

“What if they don’t like me? What if they think I’m not good enough?” you ask, your voice barely audible as your ex’s words echo through your head. To him, you were never good enough, and a small part of you thinks that you’re not good enough for Deacon either. 

“Why wouldn’t they like you?” he asks, his brows still laced with confusion, and slight anger. He knows a little about your ex, and he assumes this is where this is coming from, but he still doesn’t understand how this has anything to do with you not wanting to meet his friends. 

“My ex hated being seen with me. I was always doing things to embarrass him. What if I do that with you? What if-” You’re cut off by his voice, which is raised slightly to stop your rambling.

“Wait a minute. ‘What if you’re not good enough?’ Good enough for what?” You sigh, looking away for a moment as you lick your lips.

“For you.” you tell him with a huff. It feels a little silly once you’re saying it. You know he loves you, but you can’t help the insecurities eating away at your confidence as you take in his handsome features. 

“Honey, where is this coming from? I love you. Everything about you.” he tells you sternly, reaching up and cupping your cheeks with his hands, bringing your face down closer to his as his eyes scan your face.

“My ex, he always told me I wasn’t enough for him, or too much, I guess.” you whisper, looking down at the way your thick thighs pressed against his lean torso and the way your tummy jutted out.

“He told you that?” he asks, anger growing inside of him as his hands move back to your hips, squeezing them. 

“Well, not exactly, I guess. He would get mad at me for a lot of things. He didn’t like me wearing certain things, or doing certain things. He got mad a lot.” you explain in a soft voice, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you, trying not to meet his gaze as you explain. 

“Did he ever hit you?” he asks through gritted teeth. He’s a little afraid of the answer, afraid of what he’d do if you say yes. He knows there would be very little holding him back from hunting him down and doing far worse than he’d ever done to you. He lets out a sigh of relief as you shake your head, closing his eyes for a moment to think.

“What exactly did he do?” he asks in a somewhat calmer voice. He’s still on edge, pissed off that your ex had done something to make you think like this, but he’s still glad he never physically hurt you.

“He didn’t like when I wore things that showed off my body. Sometimes when I did things, like talk to people in public, he would get mad. On our anniversary, he got mad at me for telling the waiter I didn’t want what he ordered for me, and he dragged me out of the restaurant. What if your friends see what he saw? What if they don’t think I deserve you?” you finish with a frown, finally looking back down into his eyes when you’re done speaking. You’re still straddling his waist, which feels like an odd position to be having this conversation ij, but his warm skin touching yours is also keeping you grounded.

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about. They would never think that. I would never think that. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. You’re sweet, and you’re stubborn, and you’re smart, and you love so much. You love people who don’t deserve it because you have such a big heart. If anyone doesn’t deserve someone, I don’t deserve you.” You tear up at his words, the voice in the back of your head getting smaller as you take in his words. He sees the way your eyes soften, tears forming in your eyes, and he massages up and down your thighs in an attempt to soothe you. 

“Honey, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Please don’t let that prick control you anymore. I would never do anything he did, you know that, right?” he asks, hoping his tone and his expression make you believe his words. 

You nod slowly, sniffling as a tear finally falls from your eye. You know he wouldn’t, but sometimes, you think too hard about what your ex used to say, and you feel yourself slipping back into your old state of mind. The one that made you believe that no one would ever love you for you. 

“You don’t have to meet them today if you don’t want to. But the next day you’re off work, I want you to come see me at work, and I’ll introduce you to everyone. Deal?” he asks with a hopeful look in his eyes. You hold your breath as you bite your lip, thinking it over. You know you can’t put this off forever, and his words give you a sudden wave of confidence. You know if you don’t say yes now, you never will.

“No, I’ll go today. I’ll meet them.” you tell him finally, a small smile finally breaking onto your face as you see his grin. He pulls your face down to let his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. He tries to convey all of his affection for you into the kiss, hands moving from your cheeks to your hips, then making their way up to your tummy under your shirt. His fingers brush over your soft tummy, ghosting over the stretch marks and rolls, and he groans softly at the feeling. He loves all of you, especially your cute little tummy.

“Let's go, then. Wanna get in there early so you can meet everyone before we start.” he mutters once he pulls away. You laugh softly and get off his lap, watching as he stands up from the bed. He turns back to you and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist and swaying you side to side.

“What should I wear?” you speak after a moment, mind racing as you try to come up with something appropriate to wear.

“Doesn’t matter to me, sweetheart. Wear whatever you’re comfortable with.” he tells you softly, leaning in to give you a feather-light kiss on the nose. You scrunch your nose with a soft laugh, then pull away from him and go to your shared closet. 

He makes his way to the bathroom as you pick out an outfit. You finally land on one that doesn’t hide your curves, but doesn’t exactly cling to them either. Deacon whistles once he sees you all ready, eyes trailing down your figure. He takes in the hint of cleavage peeking out of your top, and the way it shows the curve of your hips and waist just enough to drive him wild. 

Once you’re at his work, you walk in with your fingers intertwined. Your hands are shaking slightly with nerves, but he’s quick to bring your hand up to his lips, causing your nerves to settle just long enough for him to drag you up to the group.

They all greet you with wide smiles, immediately seeing what Deacon sees in you. You greet them with a soft smile, hugging them all as they insist on it. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as Hondo congratulates Deacon for pulling you, and a wide grin breaks onto your face as soon as Luca invites you out for drinks with all of them the next time they finish a case.

You agree happily, eyes glancing over at Deacon, whose grin is wider than yours. He’s so glad to finally bring his two worlds together, and he’s even more happy that your nerves are finally settled, almost as if you finally understand exactly what he sees in you.

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[fluentmoviequoter]

Meet My Family

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!baker!reader

Summary: Street is ready to introduce you to his family. You become fast friends with his SWAT team, but meeting his mother is a difficult challenge. After she tries to scare you away from Street, he faces a tough decision about who he considers family.

Warnings: Karen is Karen, Jim Street is a flirt™️, brief angst, fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Hey, handsome,” you greet before kissing Jim’s cheek.

“Hi,” he responds slowly, his eyes narrowed as he watches you. “What’d you do?”

“Why do you think I did something?” you ask, blinking innocently.

“Because you met me at the door with a kiss and it smells like cookies in here.”

“I am a baker.”

“And I’m a cop. I can read you, babe.”

“Babe?” you repeat with a smile. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Not until you tell me what you want,” Street stipulates, failing to hide his smile.

“You said you were ready to introduce me to your team. And I accidentally tripled a few trial recipes, so I have a ton of cookies right now.”

“You want to bribe them,” he concludes, nodding.

“Not exactly what I meant, but… yeah.”

“Are you sure? They can be a lot. They’re going to like you, probably more than they like me, but I didn’t say I wanted to introduce you to rush you into anything.”

“You’re not rushing me. I’m ready to meet them. They’re important to you, and I love you.”

“Enough to save some cookies for me?”

“Of course.”

Less than half an hour after arriving at the station, Chris inhales deeply and says, “I love you.”

You smile as Street asks, “Because of the cookies?”

“Really?” Hondo asks you. “Street?”

“I see why he hid you,” Tan says, reaching for another cookie. “We’re going to need the address of your bakery.”

“The cookies aren’t the only reason we like you,” Luca explains. “You’re great for Street.”

“He’s great for me,” you reply. “But I’m glad you like the cookies, too.”

“How’d you meet?” Deacon inquires.

“He stole a cake.”

“I did not steal it,” Street corrects, looking at you as if you just accused him of murder. “I accidentally knocked it out of her window.”

“How do you accidentally knock a cake out of a window?” Hondo asks.

“I’ve asked the same thing almost daily since we started dating and I’ve never gotten a clear answer,” you say.

“Did you start dating after that?” Chris wonders.

“The same day,” Street brags. “I apologized for ruining the cake, and when I saw her, I had to ask her out.”

Hondo looks at you for confirmation, and you shrug. It’s close enough to the truth. Street tried to salvage the cake, offering apology after apology until you laughed. He looked up at you, with cake and frosting up to his elbows, and couldn’t find any more words to say. He finally blurted out a proposal to buy you dinner, and you haven’t looked back since.

“You should come to dinner with us on Friday,” Hondo tells you. “We’re going to a diner that just opened on Wilshire.”

“I’d love to,” you reply. “I’m sorry if I overstepped by just showing up today with no notice.”

“Family can drop by anytime,” Luca assures you.

After you say your farewells and gather the now empty cookie trays, you exchange numbers with Chris and talk to her about some of your shared favorite recipes. Meanwhile, the guys tell Street you’re perfect for him and welcome anytime, whether you’re bearing baked goods or not.

“How long have you been together?” Deacon asks him.

“About a month,” Street answers.

“What does your mom think about the new relationship?” Hondo inquires.

Street looks at you, where you’re laughing with Chris, then admits, “She doesn’t know. I wanted to introduce her to my actual family first.”

Deacon pats Street’s shoulder and encourages him to do what he thinks is best.

“We are your family, kid,” Hondo promises. “And we’re here for you – both of you.”

Street stops outside his door. He begins speaking but doesn’t get past your name before trailing off.

“I know,” you whisper comfortingly. “I’m here for you, Jim. Not your mom. And if she doesn’t like me, that’s okay. At the end of the day, it’s your decision about who you love, not hers. You know that, right?”

“I do. Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Street takes your hand and leads you into his apartment. His mom is living with him temporarily while she gets on her feet again and figures out what exactly she’s going to do for the remainder of her parole – or so she says.

“Jimmy!” she greets warmly. When she sees you, her smile drops.

“Mom, this is my girlfriend,” he introduces. “And this is my mom, Karen Street.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Street,” you greet with a smile, offering your hand.

“You too,” she answers. She then turns to Street, wiping the hand she used to shake yours on her pants, and says, “I couldn’t remember how to use the coffee maker. Could you show me again?”

“I’ll just make you some right now,” he offers before asking if you want anything.

“No, thanks,” you answer softly. Sitting with Karen, you ask how her day is going so far.

“Let’s just skip all the niceties since Jimmy isn’t here,” she interrupts. “You know as well as I do it will never work out. My Jimmy is a cop, he’s handsome, and you’re… a baker? Do you honestly see that working?”

Your smile droops, but you’re unwilling to let Karen Street deter you or scare you away from dating the man who makes you happy.

“We can make it work,” you answer. “I’m sorry that you feel that way.”

“It would be in your best interest to leave,” she snaps.

“Here you go, Mom,” Street says, placing a steaming mug of coffee beside her.

Karen looks between you and Street, then asks, “Could I speak to you alone, Jimmy?”

“Mom,” he begins, shaking his head.

“I actually need to use the restroom,” you offer, standing.

Street nods, points you in the right direction, then takes your previous seat. He brushes his fingers against yours as you pass him and prepares for his mother to be back to her usual antics.

“That girl is not good for you, Jimmy,” she warns. “She’s rude, uncaring, and she told me that I was a bad mother! Can you believe that? She practically admitted to using you for your law enforcement ties and for money.”

“That doesn’t sound like her,” Street replies, knowing perfectly well that you didn’t say anything rude or about using him.

Karen gets desperate then, unwilling to lose Street because he’s her access to everything. Jim can get her everything she needs and wants, and she will not let you win him over and take him from her.

“I’m sure it doesn’t, not to you,” Karen continues. “She mentioned another man, so I’d bet she’s not loyal. And you, Jimmy, are the most loyal and caring person I’ve ever met. I don’t want to see her hurt you.”

You linger by the door and scroll on your phone in the bathroom. You’re going to give Street and his mom five minutes to talk, you decide. Smiling as you reply to a message from Chris, you don’t concern yourself with hypothesizing what Karen is saying about you. When you do return, Street stands and rises from his seat.

“Did Chris text you too?” he asks. “About coming over to help with the paint?”

“She did,” you reply, following his lead. Chris texted about helping her paint; that wasn't a lie, but she doesn't need help until next weekend. If Street’s taking it as an out, you’ll go with him. You’d go anywhere with him, you think. “It was a pleasure,” you tell Karen. “I made blueberry scones earlier and thought you might like them. They're on the counter.”

“Thank you,” she replies flatly. “Be safe, Jimmy.”

“I’ll be back later, Mom,” he assures her.

As the door closes behind you, Street sighs and wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“C’mon, homewrecker,” he murmurs.

With a laugh, you ask, “What?”

“I’ll tell you later. I need ice cream.”

“And cookies?”

“So many cookies.”

After arriving at your home, you share a plate of fresh cookies and homemade ice cream with Street. He stays close to you, stealing kisses between cookies, and makes you feel incredibly loved. As always.

“Now that you’ve met the family, what do you think?” he inquires.

“If you and Tan ever get tired of SWAT, you should do standup comedy,” you begin.

As you continue raving about 20-David squad and envisioning yourself staying friends with them for years to come, Street smiles. He knew his team would like you, but he’s glad you’re joining the group as seamlessly as he hoped you would.

“Oh, Deacon texted me yesterday,” you remember. “I’m making Sam a birthday cake.”

“Charge him double,” Street jokes.

“I said Deacon not Hondo.”

“You talk to my friends more than I do.”

“They’re great.”

“But my mom is insane.”

Your eyes widen and you sit up straight. Pulling your leg beneath you, you promise, “I was not going to say that.”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t a question,” Street assures you, tugging you closer. “You’re not going to see her again unless you really want to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. My mom… My mom isn’t good for me, I’ve known that for a long time. Today, she showed me that she isn’t good for you either, and, if she can’t be supportive of us, I’m done. She’s pulled me in too deep before and I’m not going to let her do it again.”

“She’s your mother, Street.”

“And I’m not risking what I have with you for her manipulative schemes. I think I have to cut that tie before I give her something I can’t get back.”

You nod, frowning sympathetically. You feel uncomfortable giving input on the situation because it’s Street’s decision. As you hug him, he knows exactly what he has to do. His mom was scared of losing him, but she was going to be the one to drive him away.

“Is that why you called me a homewrecker earlier?” you ask against Street’s shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, she thinks you’re seeing other men. Just using me for my loyalty, good looks, and SWAT money.”

“Please,” you scoff. “That order is way off.”

Street gently pries your arms off of him and shakes his head. “Apparently you also called her a bad mother and if she were a fraction less manipulative and self-serving I’d think she was finally engaging in some reflection.”

“I’m sorry that your relationship is the way it is,” you offer. “But I’m here for you, no matter what you need.”

Street looks at the last cookie, and you smile as you nudge him toward it. Someone knocks on your door, and you leave Street’s side to answer it.

“Uh, I think it’s for you,” you murmur as you open the door wider.

Deacon, Hondo, Tan, Chris, and Luca walk into your home and look expectantly at Street.

“She didn’t like her,” he answers with a shrug. “Hondo was right.”

“Say that one more time?” Hondo requests, raising his phone to record it.

“No.”

“It smells good in here,” Luca whispers to you.

“There’s cookies and a cake in the kitchen,” you tell them. “I still can’t get that cake right. The one time I made a passable version, someone knocked it out of my window.”

Street prepares to defend himself, but you whisper, “Luckily for me, I fell in love with him.”

“So,” Hondo begins as he returns from the kitchen. “How’d it go with your mom?”

“As expected,” Street says quickly. He turns to you and says, “I love you, too.”

A few weeks later, you wait at your open door for Street to arrive. His mom is going back to jail for a parole violation, and his entire team came by your bakery today after a stressful day of saving lives and arresting domestic terrorists. Now, you want to provide Street with the comfort he gives you daily.

“I love you,” Street says as he hugs you.

“I love you,” you reply, brushing your hand over his hair. “Come on in, I have something I want to show you.”

Street nods, catches your falling hand, and follows you inside. Sitting on the counter is a cake that looks nearly identical to the one that brought you together.

“I didn’t get to taste the first one, so I need you to let me know if this is a redemption cake.”

Street forces you to take several pictures with the cake before he takes a small bite. His eyes widen, and he nods rapidly.

“It tastes similar, but even better,” he says. “Can we have this at our wedding?”

“Sure,” you answer with a smile.

Street offers you his fork, and you admit it’s a good cake.

“Speaking of our wedding,” you say after taking another bite, “your future groomsmen invited us to dinner at Deacon and Annie’s tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if I should introduce you to Annie.”

“We’ve already been texting.”

Street shakes his head and kisses you before reminding you that he loves you. "And the cake," he adds as he pulls back and steals another piece.

[violetflowerswrites]

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.”

…

[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….

————

[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.

[gemstone-roses]

A friendly reminder that if you do not have your age, or age range in your bio, I will assume you are a minor and instantly block you if I see you in my notes interacting with my work!!

[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.

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