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fluentmoviequoter · 16 days

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Cop Meet Cop

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader ; platonic Deacon Kay x reader

Summary: When your best friend, Deacon Kay, finds out that you're dating a cop, he wants to know everything. Introducing him to Tim Bradford is easier said than done.

Warnings: fluff! Tim's a little grumpy but we love him. cop show inception

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | S.W.A.T. Masterlist

Deacon yells your name before you even see him. S.W.A.T. HQ has become your home away from home, and your home away from Deacon’s home. As you walk in today, you’re greeted by Deacon’s excited greeting and a tight hug.

“It’s been too long,” Deacon says as he steps back.

“I saw you yesterday,” you remind him.

Deacon rolls his eyes before asking, “Is it wrong to miss my best friend?”

Your eyes widen as your smile grows, and Deacon regrets reminding you that you’re his best friend. You know, of course, he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember, but you like hearing the acknowledgement in his own words.

“Adopted Kay,” Hondo greets when he sees you.

“Still funny,” you deadpan.

Since Hondo found out you and Deacon grew up next door to each other and have been inseparable since you could walk, he’s taken to referring to you as Deacon’s adopted sister, or his preferred sister from another mister. You don’t mind; Deacon is the best “brother” you’ve ever had (including any blood relatives you may or may not have).

“You ask her yet, Deac?” Hondo inquires.

“Ask me what?” you interject.

“The mayor is treating all of us and our families to dinner at La Boucherie,” Deacon explains. “You’re family, so I wanted to extend the invitation to you.”

“That’s thousands of dollars for that many people!”

“Why you should go when it’s free,” Hondo says with a smile and a shrug.

“When is it?” you ask Deacon.

“Next Friday,” he and Hondo answer.

You purse your lips as you think. Next Friday, you have plans with your boyfriend. The boyfriend that Deacon knows nothing about.

“I actually have a date next Friday,” you admit slowly. “Maybe we could reschedule.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Hondo interrupts, raising his hands toward you.

“A what?” Deacon yells.

“I was going to tell you,” you promise.

“This doesn’t seem like my business, so I’m gonna go,” Hondo says. He stops by your shoulder with his back to Deacon to whisper, “Fill me in later.”

You push him away before looking at Deacon. The apology in your eyes is enough to calm him, but innumerable questions are running through his mind.

“How long?” he asks first.

“A few months.” Deacon takes a deep breath, wondering why you didn’t tell him sooner. “How’d you meet?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you mumble.

“More embarrassing than when you fell off my bike because you weren’t tall enough to reach the pedals?”

“Why would you bring that up? Deacon, look, I trust you, don’t doubt that. I was worried that the relationship wouldn’t work out; he’s so different than anyone I have ever dated. If it fell apart after a few dates, I didn’t want to… push it on you or anything, I guess.”

“I am here for you, no matter what.”

“Thank you. We-“

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to interrogate you. My house after work.”

“Okay. Be careful today, Deac.”

“What’s his name?”

“Whose name?” you ask as you walk away.

Deacon grumbles as you round the corner. He has a lot of information to find out tonight, and he hopes you’re more forthcoming in private. It’s been a while since he scared away a guy who wasn’t good enough for you, and he hasn’t had to deal with Lila dating yet, but S.W.A.T. operations and defending your honor can’t be that different.

After you leave Deacon, your phone buzzes with a text from the man you were just talking about. You smile as you read the short message but turn down his invitation to hang out later. As you pass a police cruiser on your way to your car, you have an idea. Maybe asking your boyfriend to meet Deacon would make everything easier. Hopefully it ends differently than junior prom.

Your afternoon flies by in a storm of nervousness and excitement. If Deacon expresses any interest in meeting your boyfriend, you will jump on the opportunity. Although, you know it will take some convincing to get your boyfriend to agree. You’re imagining his reaction as you knock on Deacon’s door, lost in thought.

“Lose your key?” Deacon asks as he opens the door.

Annie waves from the kitchen, and you give her a quick hug. Deacon shakes his head at your blatant betrayal and favoritism, and Annie reminds him that she doesn’t bring up past embarrassments and injuries like Deacon does.

“That’s what friends do,” he argues.

“Best friends, right, Deac?” you ask, batting your lashes.

“Did she tell you about her boyfriend?” Deacon asks Annie.

“Boyfriend?! Since when?” Annie turns to you with wide eyes, and you glare at Deacon across the countertop.

“Start asking questions,” you say with a sigh.

“What’s his name?” Deacon repeats.

“How’d you meet?” Annie asks.

“Um, he’s a cop,” you explain. “And we met while he was on patrol.”

Deacon falls silent as he considers every cop he has ever met. You don’t know half of them, at the least, yet Deacon still runs through a mental list. His search for one worthy of your time or attention comes up empty. While he thinks, Annie continues asking you questions.

“No, he’s not on patrol anymore,” you say to Annie. It snaps Deacon out of his thoughts as he realizes he’s analyzing the wrong officers.

“If he’s not patrol,” Deacon begins before trailing off.

“Metro Sergeant,” you say softly.

“Metro. Metro?” Deacon repeats. “Not at our station.”

“What makes you so sure?” you challenge.

“Because I know you, and you wouldn’t go for any of them.”

“David,” Annie chides.

“No, he’s right,” you admit. “He works at a different station, in a different division. But, if you want to meet him, I can ask.”

“Of course, I want to meet him! You’re not giving me answers and I need to vet him.”

“You’re talking like a cop.”

“You’re dating a cop!”

“Look, Deacon, my boyfriend is… he can be hesitant and standoffish. I’ll ask, but I can’t guarantee that he’ll agree.”

“They’re both police officers, so at least they’ll have something to bond over other than you,” Annie whispers as Deacon leans against the counter.

“If I don’t like him,” Deacon begins.

“You don’t like anyone I date.”

“If I don’t like him or he’s not good enough for you, I will tell you.”

“I know. You care, even if you show it by bringing up the time I asked to hold your keys to feel more grown up.”

“That’s adorable,” Annie murmurs.

“Ask him, please,” Deacon requests. “And let me know what he says. As long as you’re happy, I’ll give him a chance.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After your conversation with Deacon and Annie, you try to find the perfect opportunity to ask Tim. If he says no, you’ll just tell Deacon the truth. But then Deacon will get suspicious and will try to… You close your eyes and take a deep breath to keep your thoughts from spiraling.

When you open your eyes, you blink quickly at the sight before you. Your boyfriend is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. He raises his brows, and you know it’s his invitation for you to speak.

“Hi, Tim,” you say.

“No.”

You nod and interlace your fingers together before tapping your joined hands against your chin. Tim tilts his head to the side as he tries to decipher what is making you nervous.

“Do you want to come to my house for dinner this weekend?” you ask.

“Not until you tell me why.”

“Tim,” you groan. “Okay, just let me tell you all of it before you say no, okay?”

Tim nods once and you step closer to him.

“I want you to meet my best friend, and I thought having you both over for dinner would be the best chance to do that. He, um, my friend is a S.W.A.T. sergeant in the LAPD.”

“Is that all?” Tim asks.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think-“

“Look, he’s been my best friend for my entire life. We grew up next door to each other and have stayed friends for all these years, so he means a lot to me. And I know you’ve met a ton of S.W.A.T. officers and some of them are really stuck up, but you haven’t met him. Please just think about meeting my friend, not another cop, before you decide.”

Your plea was intended to convince Tim, but it only makes him more hesitant. His concerns don’t come from your friend being in law enforcement, but from the idea that it is a man who knows you and what you deserve very well. Probably knows you better than Tim does. Plus, Tim is not a fan of socializing and making more friends, for the most part.

“If you don’t want to, I get it,” you add.

It only takes another moment for you to wear Tim down; you murmur, “Please?”

“Fine. Tell me when,” he agrees with a sigh.

You bounce in place before throwing your arms over Tim’s shoulders to hug him. He sighs again before pulling you close and kissing your forehead.

“I promise it will be fun,” you say.

Tim raises his brows, and you take it as a challenge.

✯✯✯✯✯

On the day of your dinner with Tim and Deacon, you spend the day at home. You clean, cook, and do anything else you can think of to keep your mind off how the evening could go wrong. Being nervous that they won’t get along isn’t a completely unfounded idea, but you don’t know why it is bothering you. As dinner is nearing completion, someone opens your door, and because both men have keys, you’re not sure who it is until Deacon says your name.

“Kitchen,” you call.

Deacon steps in with a dish in his hands. He sets it down and you recognize it as Annie’s baking and your favorite dessert.

“Oh, thank you! And thank Annie!” you say before hugging Deacon.

“Sorry I’m early, I got off work after a call and wanted to see if you need any help,” he explains.

“No apologies necessary. If you can check the pot on the stove, I’m going to grab something from the pantry, and I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.”

When you return, Deacon is looking at you with a smile.

“What?” you ask, running your hands over your outfit to remove any nonexistent wrinkles.

“I know you said I’ve never met the boyfriend, but are you sure?” Deacon asks.

You don’t have a chance to answer before someone knocks. Tim usually lets himself in, but you’re sure the sight of another car parked outside is what deterred him. As you walk to the door, you take a deep breath and hope for a nice evening.

“Hi,” you greet.

“Hey,” Tim replies with a smile. “These are for you.”

He passes you a bouquet of flowers wrapped in cellophane and a gift bag before he closes the door behind him. You run a finger over one of the petals and smile.

“What is this?” you ask while looking at the bag. “A bribe?”

Tim’s lips quirk up as he murmurs, “Something like that.”

“Alright, uh, come on in.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Tim whispers.

He lays a hand on your back, and it helps to calm your nerves, at least until you see Deacon standing by the table and watching you.

“Deacon, this is my boyfriend, Tim Bradford. Tim, this is my best friend, Deacon Kay,” you introduce.

Tim removes his hand from your back to shake Deacon’s hand, and you watch them nervously. You invite them to take seats and you move into the kitchen to gather a few items. The quiet is unsettling, and you need to do something to eliminate the awkwardness.

“Deacon asked how we met,” you say as you lower into the chair between them. “I was out walking one night, and this guy was following me. After making a bunch of random turns and going in a circle, he was still behind me, so I called the police. Tim was the responding officer.”

“Who was the guy?” Deacon asks.

You look at Tim, who shakes his head before answering, “He and his teenage daughter live around here and were out for a walk together. He was distracted looking at his phone and answering work emails and ended up following the wrong woman around the neighborhood.”

Deacon shakes his head and smiles. “I tell her all the time that her youthful good looks are going to get her in trouble.”

“Oh, no, it gets better,” Tim continues. “When he did see her while we were questioning him, he asked her out!”

Deacon tilts his head back and laughs, while Tim chuckles, and though it’s at your expense, you’re glad they’re able to laugh about something together. You notice Tim glance between you and Deacon a few times; unknown to you, he’s wondering if you ever had a thing for your neighbor and best friend, Deacon.

“I’m glad the most frightening event of my life is so humorous,” you joke.

“Hey, that’s not even the weirdest call I had that month,” Tim offers.

“It’s not just me, right?” Deacon asks. “People are getting crazier?”

“Oh, absolutely. My last boot and I got called to a psychic studio in Hollywood, and the girl admitted she was making stuff up, but revealed the location of a missing person. She was more concerned with the condition of her $900 crystal ball and flirting with me though.”

“Hollywood calls are always more interesting,” Deacon agrees. “We raided an illegal poker club and everyone inside was dressed as assassinated presidents and their widows. Bloody clothes and all.”

“Oh, that beats anything I’ve got,” Tim concedes. “Metro doesn’t get as many calls as patrol cops, but I know they’re going to be good.”

You lean back in your seat and smile, glad to see the most important men in your life getting along. They start talking about how anyone will flirt with cops to get out of trouble, and you chuckle at their excited discussion of the weirdest things people have said.

“Luckily, your friend over here didn’t flirt with me until after,” Tim says. He winks at you as you roll your eyes.

“You asked me out,” you remind him.

“Not my fault you’re cute,” Tim murmurs.

“Oh, you think she’s cute when she’s being followed. Have you seen her when she-“

You cover your ears and look down, regretting bringing them into your house at the same time. Deacon reminding you of your worst moments is one thing, but telling your boyfriend is different. They’re both lucky you love them. Tim wraps his fingers around your arm to pull your hand away from your hand, while Deacon does the same with the other.

“All good things,” Deacon promises.

“I’m going to tell Annie that you’re being mean to me,” you threaten. Tim fails to conceal his smile, and you add, “And Angela.”

“I’m not apologizing,” Tim responds.

“Doesn’t do much good anyway,” Deacon adds.

“Why did I agree to this?” you ask yourself.

“Because you thought we could bond over being cops. You were wrong, we’re going to bond over you.”

“Careful,” Tim warns. “She won’t invite you to the wedding.”

You look up quickly, your eyes wide as they search Tim’s face. He and Deacon begin laughing at your reaction, and you stand silently before walking to the kitchen. Annie’s dessert will be your only source of comfort it seems; more so when Deacon and Tim walk in with half-hearted apologies. You love them, you remind yourself. When Deacon hugs you before leaving, and Tim pulls you into a kiss after, you forget all about the previous teasing.

“Wait,” you say, pushing Tim back. “What’s in the bag?”

“It’s a picture of Kojo. A failsafe apology if dinner didn’t go well.”

You smile before kissing Tim again. Everyone knows that this dinner wasn’t the last, and when you get a text from Annie asking how it went, you invite her to the next one.

#hanna writes✯#tim bradford x reader #deacon kay fluff #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x fem!reader #deacon kay #tim bradford the rookie #david deacon kay #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #requests #fem!reader #the rookie abc #swat cbs

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just-a-girl-who-wrytes · 7 months

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Omg I just accidently found your blog and I'm so freaking happy, cause there are not enough writer who writes for Deacon 😭 unfortunately I'm super obsessed with him, with an unhealthy amount of fic ideas in my brain xD so I give it a try and send you one of those, hopefully jot annoying you with this (or with my shitty English, it's not my first language, so I'm sorry).

Well buckle up for my request:

Reader is a new Swat member and instantly everybody loves her, with her bubbly friendly self. She's bonding great with her teammates and especially her and Deacon grow super close (they develop feelings for each other but don't want to tell the each other afraid to ruin their friendship, so their feelings stay hidden). When one day a case goes sideways and it leaves her injured (maybe a concussion or something like that) Deacon blames himself for her injury and the next days he distances himself from her, cause he thinks that it is unhealthy for him to have such deep feelings for her and him constantly worrying for her wellbeing. She notices his change of behavior and she's super sad. He starts to being unfriendly to her and being a little bit of an ass?! Even alerting the other members with his behavior. The whole situation is taking a toll on her and she is starting to effecting not only her poor heart but also her health. (so maybe she falls sick, but keep it from her teammates especially Deacon, cause she thinks that after her injury during a case he thinks of her as not capable or something like that). That is until one day she doesn't show up to work which very uncommon for her, cause she's always on time and the first one at the station. They're all worrried and Hondo tells Deacon that he has to drive to her apartment. Well he tries to refuse and send Stress but Hondo insists, so Deacon drives to her apartment. He finds her suffering from a very high fever..... So maybe with a happy ending like Deacon regrets his shitty behavior, she instantly cries when she recognizes him in her feverish state, asking him why he hates her suddenly, which is now breaking his heart. He cares for her and nurses her back to health, or at first tries to bring her fever down. Later he confesses why he was an asshole.

Soooorry it's so long. There's so pressure for you to write this. Maybe you just want to use some ideas? Well I would be so happy.

Please take care lovely

Here you go, hope you enjoy!

“Nice!” Luca exclaimed as the team watched you send rounds down range from your firearm.

With the increase in officer related shootings, LAPD had decided to provide each team a SWAT medic and you were the newest member of 20 squad.

“Who knew girls can shoot?” You heard Deacon asked. You turned to playfully scowl at him and noticed him wink at you.

“Better watch it, Kay, or I’ll show you just how good I really am.”

You had been a part of the team for just over two months and they were the best guys you had ever worked with in your career. You truly became a part of their family – you had their backs and they had yours. There was one that was different though.

David Kay.

You had noticed him watching you on more than one occasion, stealing winks from you, sharing small, flirtatious smiles. You weren’t sure if your attraction to him was mutual or not, but if you had to guess, you would say yes. However, you didn’t want to complicate anything by dating one of your teammates and you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had developed with Deacon. You assumed Deacon adopted the same mindset because he never brought it up either.

However, that didn’t mean your flirting with each other fell on blind eyes.

The entire team noticed it and often gave you both shit over it.

You both were in the middle of denying another teasing round of friends with benefits accusations from your teammates when you were dispatched to a school shooting.

The mood immediately sobered up as all of you put on your gear and grabbed your bags and firearms. The ride to the school in Black Betty was quiet minus updates from Hondo.

“Stay liquid, guys,” He told the team as you pulled up on scene.

There were multiple reports of injured children inside of the school.

This call was all yours.

It was going to be your job to go inside and assess each injured child to see how critically injured they were. It was your team’s job to protect you while you did that. You were going in without any knowledge of where the shooter was, but you knew if you had children, you would want someone to go in and save your baby. You swallowed your fear and prepared to do your job.

You got out of the armored truck and took your spot in the middle of your team. You slowed your breathing down to get your heart rate under control and keep your emotions in check.

Deacon made sure that he stayed close to you as you entered the school. He knew his teammates would have your back too, but he felt… differently about you. He cared about you a lot. He had quickly fallen for your smile and your personality. You didn’t let the team’s banter intimidate you one bit from the start. You were quick and witty with your playfulness with them. You were smart as hell when it came to medicine and you had proven to be a solid member of the SWAT team in training exercises and on calls you had run together. He wanted so badly to ask you out to dinner, but he wasn’t willing to change the dynamic of the team by adding a relationship to the mix. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be protective over you – whether you noticed it or not.

That was why Deacon had taken it so personally when you were knelt down, applying a tourniquet to a fourth-grade student’s leg and got shot by the hidden gunman. His team covered him while he immediately turned to you to make sure you were okay. The round had struck your vest, but you knew it had broken ribs. The pain you felt in your side was unmistakable. Regardless, you threw your body over the child’s to protect her from the gunfire that ensued. Deacon and Luca dragged you both behind a desk behind a wall in a classroom.

“Are you okay?” Deacon asked without taking his aim from the door way.

“We’ve got to get her out of here.” You ignored his question as you continued to try and stop the little girl’s bleeding.

Your voice was forced and you were breathy.

“I asked if you were okay,” Deacon said angrily.

“I’m fine.” You retorted.

You soon heard Tan’s voice over the radio that the shooter had been neutralized. You didn’t know if there was more than one shooter, but didn’t see any signs of one so far. When you got the clear from Hondo, you radioed for another team to come in and get the girl out and get her to a hospital. Once she was safely removed, you resumed your formation in the middle of the team to continue to clear the school building. Deacon could tell you were injured because you didn’t shoulder your firearm correctly, but he didn’t see any blood so he let it go. He was pissed off at you for not stopping and going to get help yourself, but he was even more pissed off at himself for not seeing the gunman before he shot at you.

It took two hours to clear the rest of the school and stabilize the remaining children. By the time you were done, you were visibly diaphoretic and short of breath. You could hardly manage three words without stopping to catch your breath.

“20-David to command,” Deacon radioed, “We need an EMS unit to our location, we have a team member who needs to be checked out.”

You were in pain, you couldn’t breathe, and you were pissed off that Deacon asked for EMS without consulting you first.

“Why did you do that?!” You managed to asked through clenched teeth. “These children need those paramedics.” You took a few shallow breaths, “Not me! Cancel. Them.”

If looks could kill, your sergeant would be the one who needed a medic unit, not you.

“Officer,” Deacon said sternly, “You look like hell and you cannot breathe.”

You started to open your mouth to cut him off, but he started speaking loudly again.

“Now, I suggest you shut up and listen to your sergeant. I am not the one who takes orders from you.”

His harsh words hit you harder than the bullet hit your ballistic vest and left you just as speechless. David had never been so disrespectful to you. If the paramedics hadn’t arrived to assess you, you would have turned in your badge right there. You knew the rest of the team had noticed as well because they were all silent which pissed you off even more. Where was your support?

The paramedics tried helping you onto the stretcher, but you refused it. Despite not being able to speak for being short of breath. You held onto the stretcher for support and walked to the ambulance. By the time you finally made it outside to the ambulance, you were physically unable to get into the ambulance because you were hurting so bad and so short of breath. The EMS providers finally convinced you to get onto the stretcher and they were able to load you into the truck.

When you arrived to the ER, you were taken to a trauma room due to the fact that you had technically been shot. Your chest x-ray revealed a collapsed lung due to the broken ribs.

The rest of the team finished debriefing before being cleared to leave for the day. Hondo met Deacon in the quiet locker rooms since most of everyone else had already left.

“Deac…” Hondo paused, knowing he needed to tread carefully, “What was up back at the school? I have never heard you speak to anyone like that – especially one of our teammates.”

Deacon slammed his locker shut.

“Hondo, now ain’t the time, brother.”

The lieutenant raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, I won’t press, but I do ask that you consider an apology. It was unwarranted today. We all performed immaculately given the circumstances.”

“No, Hondo. No. We did not all perform immaculately.” His tone was biting.

Deacon walked passed Hondo and left the locker rooms. He left the station and threw his duffel bag in the backseat of his truck. He climbed in, started it, and drove to a nearby lake that off the road and would likely be deserted after dark on a week night. He parked in the dark and slammed his fists against the steering wheel in frustration.

Tears filled his eyes as he mentally kicked himself in the ass for missing the shooter that injured you today. He didn’t fight the tears as they spilled down his cheeks. What had gotten into him? Why were you different? Why was he so upset? Why did you getting injured bother him so badly? You were okay and you were expected to make a full recovery according to Hicks. Where along the line had he developed feelings and why was he so afraid of talking to you about them?

You spent 6 days in the hospital, 4 of those with a chest tube before being discharged home. During your entire hospital stay, Deacon had not been by to see you once despite daily visits from the rest of your teammates. It made you mad, but most of all, it hurt your feelings. You really liked you sergeant – or you thought that you did. His actions since you had been injured spoke louder than any words that could have been said.

Luca and Chris were there to take you home and help you get settled. They carried your bags in and Chris helped you unpack your things while Luca cooked supper for the three of you. Chris helped you remove your bra so you could put on a loose, comfy t-shirt. Being the only females on the squad left you two comfortable around each other.

“That is one hell of a bruise, babe.” She said as she looked at your black and purple side.

You had to agree – the entire left side of your torso was bruised. It looked awful. Thankfully, the doctors had been able to help manage your pain with narcotics.

“I’m glad it finally looks worse than it feels… Which is saying a lot because it still hurts like hell.”

You slipped on a pair of sleep shorts and made your way back into your kitchen with Chris.

You took a pain pill and joined your teammates in your living room to eat the spaghetti that Luca made.

“Thank you so much for taking care of me guys,” You said several hours later as you walked Luca and Chris to your door.

“That’s what we’re here for, love,” Luca said, pulling you into a gentle hug.

You kissed his cheek, “Supper was delicious, Dom. Thank you times a million.”

He returned the kiss to your cheek and Chris pulled you in for a hug.

“Call us if you need anything?”

You smiled at her after the hug, “You know I will.”

You settled onto your couch with a glass of wine. You knew the alcohol and narcotic wasn’t the smartest elixir, however, you needed to mask more than your physical pain.

You couldn’t get Deacon off your mind and your heart had yet to stop hurting. Your emotional pain screamed much louder than your physical pain.

“Dammit!” You heard through clouded consciousness. “What the fuck?”

You felt yourself being picked up and carried to your bed. You recognized a familiar cologne but quickly disregarded the scent and winced at the pain in your ribs before drifting back off to sleep.

You woke up the next morning nearly in tears again as you entered a coughing spell. You managed to get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen where your pain pills were, but you were scared shitless by a man sitting at your kitchen table. As soon as your heart began racing with fear, the fear subsided, realizing that it was Deacon sitting inside of your home.

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck, David?” You held your chest with one hand and braced your broken ribs with the other.

He didn’t answer you.

You ignored his silence and took your morning pain medication.

“Ya know… I said the same thing last night when I came over and found you unconscious on your couch. So, I can also say, what the fuck? What were you thinking?” Deacon’s voice grew steadily louder as he stood up and turned to you. “Pain pills and alcohol?”

You were angry. “Something to make this shit stop hurting,” You spat as you snatched up the side of your shirt to reveal your black and blue torso.

You could tell the extent of your injuries caught Deacon off guard. His facial expression softened and he didn’t respond.

You let go of your shirt, letting it fall back down to your waist and continued fixing yourself a glass of water to take your pain pill with. You took your medicine and continued to ignore your sergeant as you turned your back to him to get the milk out of your refrigerator to fix yourself a bowl of cereal. His hand stopped yours mid-air reaching for your cabinet. He gently held your wrist with one hand and you felt the edge of your shirt being lifted again. He let go of your hand, staring at the bruising that covered you. You could sense his demeanor soften.

There was a long silence as he took in your injuries.

“I’m so sorry…” He whispered.

The tone in his voice felt like a hug to your soul.

“Deacon-” You turned around to face him.

“No, listen to me,” he interrupted you. “This…” He grazed his fingertip down your side, “is all my fault.”

The confusion was written all over your face.

“I should have seen that bastard before he ever had a chance at you.”

You began shaking your head but you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“You’ve been an asshole to me ever since it happened, David, what the hell has changed now?” You were beginning to grow angry again.

“Look, I am so, so sorry.” His voice was gentle. “I should have stopped that guy before he shot you. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did. I should have visited you in the hospital. You are a teammate and I failed you, but I really should have told you from the get-go that I have developed feelings for you.” He didn’t take a breath the entire time he spoke so you struggled to follow him, but his last sentence hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Excuse me?”

“Ever since you have been on the team with us, you have become more than just a teammate to me. Truthfully, I have liked you from the day that I met you and my attraction to you has only grown every single day. I like you so much more than just as a teammate. I would dare say that I am falling in love with you.” He slowly reached up to cradle your face with his hand, hesitant, wondering if you would allow him to touch you.

You did.

“I am so, so sorry that I have treated you so poorly this week – so wrong. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that I hate myself for not being able to protect you like I should have. I’ve been so afraid to let you know how I feel about you. I’m sorry I was more afraid of affecting the team than I was giving you the honesty that you deserve. Please, please forgive me.”

He looked into your eyes as he nervously chewed on his bottom lip.

“Deacon…” You said quietly, leaning into his hand caressing your jaw.

He took a deep breath and continued, “If you don’t feel the same way, I understand, but I came over here last night to apologize and tell you all of this. When I found you passed out on the couch, barely responsive, it frustrated me. So, I stayed here last night to make sure you were okay. Please don’t be mad.”

Silence fell between you while you considered how to respond. Given the emotions that you had worked through over the past week, going from feelings for your partner, to physical and emotional hurt, to anger towards David for not visiting, texting or calling, resentment towards yourself for having feelings towards David despite how cruel he had been to you with his absence while you had been hospitalized, you struggled to find any words.

Deacon watched you suffer through a week’s worth of feelings as he watched your eyes. You took a deep breath.

He decided that you were taken too long to respond and if he didn’t act now, he never would.

He leaned down and softly pressed his lips on yours.

You instinctively closed your eyes and allowed David to kiss you. When you didn’t pull away, he parted his lips just enough to run his tongue tenderly along your bottom lip. You opened your lips, allowing him to kiss you deeper. You began to return the kiss when David went to place his hands on your waist, forgetting about your injuries. You stopped kissing him and winced.

“God, I’m so sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, your voice shaky.

Deacon noticed the tears that trickled down your cheeks.

He wiped them away with his thumbs and began apologizing to you again.

You interrupted him with another kiss. You reached up and intertwined your fingers behind his head, softly rubbing his neck with your fingertips. He moaned quietly into the kiss. He grabbed your arm and squeezed it, needing to touch you, but being mindful of your injuries. You enjoyed the feeling of his tall, muscular body, towering over yours. You felt protected.

“Deacon?”

He pressed his forehead to yours, brushing a stand of hair behind your ear, “Mmhmm?”

“I love you.”

"I love you too."

#christina alonso #david kay #dominic luca #hondo harrelson #imagine #jay harrington #jim street #swat #swat cbs #david deacon kay #Deacon #David deacon kay #deacon x reader #deacon fanfic #deacon kay x reader #swat officer #love #swat x reader #swat imagines

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plooto · 7 months

Text

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ meeting him after breaking up with bonnie . ft. victor tan

warnings . divorced ! victor , hc style

words . 545

-> it was after his suspension when you two met, the one day you go to try and work out, he’s there. you got there when he was finishing his last set. without thinking, your feet took you to him.

“ hi! i um..i though you were cute and i was wondering if i could have your number.. get to know you ? ”

-> he took your number, but informed you he was getting over a bad breakup, to which you respected, giving him time to reach out to you.

laying in bed after a long work day, you’re cuddled in your favorite pjs with a cup of your favorite juice when your phone rang. you had his number saved, eternally thankful of your forgetfulness.

-> the two of you talked allll night. until 4am when you crashed first, tan not hanging up the phone, but having to when he woke up for work, barely an hour later.

-> since that night, you two talked every night, vowing to not stay up that late again.

-> he called you after his shift, and you were up, waiting for his call every night—till one night , he didn’t .

-> he was still hurt , his failed marriage with bonnie , getting booted from the TLI exam , he couldn’t try something new right now.

-> you thought you’d been ghosted , just another guy that lost interest or something , right ? oh you couldn’t have been more wrong..

-> you probably go to the gym again , hoping the new burn of your muscles would take your mind off of him.

you’re minding your own business , retying your hair and picking up a weight .

“ hey uh , i thought you were cute.. and i was wondering if i could get your number ? ” you pulled off your headphones to see him beside you.

-> you didn’t want to pressure him into telling you why he went ghost , but , he told you anyway . while he was confessing to you

“ i’m sorry for going radio silent on you..these past weeks . i had a lot going on, but that’s not an excuse . if you’ll have me, i’d like to get to know you . ”

-> you were shocked to say the least , after he went ghost you figured he just wasn’t into you after he went silent but you gave him another chance .

-> he was a nervous wreck , he didn’t want to make a big deal of it at work , but he couldn’t stop himself from calling you right after work .

“ hey , y’n ! i remembered you wanted to go to that restaurant downtown ? i booked reservations for us tonight . i’ll pick you up at what , eight ? ”

-> remembers everything ! kinda

-> your first ever fight was over something so small , just tan getting lost in his head.

“ hey um victor , i was just wondering.. if we could invite your friends out to eat with us ”

-> the last woman he introduced to them , she screwed him over . he said he’d think about it .. luca ended up catching it , then powell and then street and hondo and it just went down the line . push comes to shove and he was bringing you out on a date , meeting the rest of the team at the place .

-> watching you interact with his team was the highlight of his year

..maybe you weren’t so bad

published . september 28 , 2023

#victor tan #swat imagines #swat cbs #swat x reader #tan x reader #victor x reader #victor tan x reader #tan swat x reader #rae thinks 🍓 // headcannons #. character // victor tan

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violetflowerswrites · 2 months

Text

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”

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

freakin

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.

….

#swat #swat cbs #cbs swat #jim street #jim street fic #jim street imagine #jim street smut #jim street x reader #street x reader #swat imagine #swat fic #swat smut

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bullet-prooflove · 6 months

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Change: Donovan Rocker x Reader (Drabble)

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @one-sweet-gubler @telepathay @mah2101 @whateversomethingbruh @burningpeachpuppy @slytherqueen14 @lady-athanasia

Companion Piece to Reputation

Donovan sings in the shower. It’s loud and enthusiastic but it’s far from good, you don’t have the heart to tell him. Instead, you decide to find another way to distract him. He’s just rinsed the conditioner from his hair when the glass door of the walk-in shower opens, and you step inside. He doesn’t expect it, you usually slip out long before he’s woken up, but you’d had a rough call last night, you’d ended you sleeping in. When you’d turned up at his door, he’d known it wasn’t just for sex.

You’d spend the early hours of the morning ruining him, pinning his wrists to the mattress as you took what you’d needed. He gets the need for control especially when something goes down like that. He holds you in the aftermath, his fingers trailing over your skin as you tuck yourself under his chin. It’s the first time you’ve come to him for comfort, that you’ve allowed him to give it to you.

You don’t say anything and neither does he. He doesn’t want to break the spell so he keeps his mouth shut because he knows the wrong move will send you fleeing and he doesn’t want that, he wants you to stay.

When you kiss him it’s soft, tender. Something he isn’t used to receiving from you. This thing between the two of you has always been casual, a way to blow off steam, explore some of those darker desires but it’s on the cusp of changing, he can feel it. Your fingertips ghost along the line of his jaw, his arm wraps around your waist drawing you closer.

“I’ve never fucked in the shower before.” He murmurs against your lips.

You smile because you’ve been giving Donovan a lot of firsts recently and you like the idea of giving him another. He moans into your mouth as your fingers wrap around his hardening cock, hips arching into your touch.

“Let’s change that shall we.”

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#donovan rocker #donovan rocker x reader #donovan rocker x you #rocker #rocker x you #rocker x reader #swat cbs #swat #s.w.a.t imagine #s.w.a.t cbs #s.w.a.t.

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abbatoirablaze · 10 months

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S.W.A.T, The Letter, Dominique Luca

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of death, angst, mentions of being blown up/bombs, mention of tortured victims.

Baby,

If you’re reading this letter, then you know something happened to me.

And not a good something.

I know I always told you that if I handed you papers, it would be because we’d be signing for a place on the beach and then following that up by making some beautiful blonde babies that would undoubtedly be future SWAT. But I’m sorry if you ever have to read this one.

So, I’ll tell you in this everything that I always wanted to say…even if I couldn’t really voice it in the right ways.

You’re the only person I ever want to finish a Call of Duty campaign with.

You’re the one I want to wake up to in the morning…even if it’s at three am because you read that the waves are going to be amazing by five but be trash the rest of the day.

You’re the only woman I ever wanted to give up being a bachelor for.

I know that there is a matching letter in your locker, and that it’s addressed to me…but god, the only thing that scares me in this world is that one day I’ll have to read it.

You’re amazing.

And fearless.

And I know that I will never love another woman, and have never loved another woman, as much as I love you.

Nikki…

You are my everything.

Dominique

“Hey there…” Luca nearly jumped out of his spot at the island. The pencil cracked in half due to the tension that he’d been putting on it. The brunette smiled and him, hiding a little laugh behind her hand, “wh-what was that Dominique?”

“No-nothing!” he said quickly, as though he was trying to shield the woman that he loved from the superstitious act, “what are you doing?”

“That doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’ Dominique…” she said slowly, taking a few steps forward until she was firmly in the grub room. Her chin tilted up and she noticed the hardened letters on the envelope beside the piece of paper. She added up everything in her head, and her eyes met with that of her boyfriend’s, “Dominique…”

“I-I saw your letter in the top of your locker the other day when we were leaving!” he admitted, stuttering over the admission, “I-I’ve been thinking about writing you one for months…but I-I couldn’t-I didn’t want to think-“

She took a few more steps forward, and he stopped speaking when her hand reached out and stroked his forearm, “Luca…stop…you don’t have to explain it…”

He felt the tears lining his eyes; his emotions feeling like too much all piling on as he looked from between her and the paper, “i-I wanted to…”

“It’s okay…”

“Okay…”

Dominique,

I’m writing this letter to you on our four-month anniversary together. And trust me when I say I hope I’m not writing this in vain. It would suck if we split, and I had this letter in my locker until the end of time…because we both know how well I do when it comes to cleaning up.

But I wanted to write this.

I love you.

There’s no other way to say it…no way to get around it.

I know we’re both terrified of commitment, but somehow, both of us have made it this far into a relationship. And I don’t want to hold it back anymore.

I always remember you making jokes about how you’ll never get married, but lately, I haven’t heard you saying that. Instead, all I hear you telling me is that if you ever hand me papers, they won’t be for anything other than signing for a place on the beach.

And then you always say we’ll be as close to marriage as either one of us could stand because we’ll follow it up with some blonde swat babies…but lets be honest.

I’m Asian.

We’re never having blonde children.

But they will have my kickass genetics…and yours too I guess…so they’ll be as close to perfect as humanly possible.

I want you to know something more though. All jokes aside, if you’re reading this, then something happened to me.

And I wish that it didn’t…but it did.

But I wouldn’t change a second of what we have. I wouldn’t change a second of who I am. Because it’s what makes us work so well. I’m only sad by the thought that we won’t get to live up to those promises we made each other. Sad that we won’t be able to catch waves in the early morning…making love under the stars…going to Koreatown and arguing over who has the best bulgogi…for the record it’s me…when I’m making it in our place…

As you would say, ‘we’re both honorary Koreans at heart.’ All joking aside, I have to say it again. Dominique…

I love you.

Never forget me.

Nikki.

“You okay, Luca?”

Luca sniffled, a tear sliding down his cheek and onto the aged paper. He tried to nod his head, but all that came out was a choked sounding sob. Hondo went to step forward, but Buck held his arm out, stopping him.

“I had a ring…” Luca admitted tearfully after a few minutes of silence. He dropped the paper, his hand reaching into his pocket as he shakily tried to pull the box from his tactical pants, “I-I told myself that I was going to propose when she got back from the mission today, but-“

He couldn’t finish his sentence. He broke down, sobbing against the velvet box that he’d shakily managed to show the guys.

Deac felt his heart wrenching in his chest.

The man who acted more like a frat boy had wanted to settle down with a fellow SWAT officer from another team, but in the instant of one mission, his dreams had evaporated. She’d played hero had had attempted to get to a victim and save them before the building exploded.

Deac thought about his own letter that he had sitting in his own locker in case something were to happen to him. His pregnant wife would be alone.

He felt tears building up behind his own eyes.

“Luca…”

“Sh-she was going to take on the job of Captain,” he sniffled once more “she was just talking to Cortez about it this morning. We-we were talking about getting our little place on the beach and she’d be behind a desk. We’d have it on easy street while she popped out a whole litter of baby Luca’s.”

“We’re sorry for your loss, Luca…” the commander of their group, Buck Spivey commented as he gave the young man a sad look, “Nguyen was a great commander…first female SWAT officer and team leader…was set to be the first captain.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he sobbed, looking up at his teammates and friends, “why did she stay in the building?”

“The vic was crucified to the wall,” Spivey admitted, “she was trying to get him down…told the rest of her guys to evacuate the building! But you know her…she’d never leave a soul behind if she could help it.”

“I was going to marry her!” he cried, dropping the velvety box to the ground as he began sobbing into his hands, “we were supposed to have a future together.”

#SWAT #s.w.a.t.#s.w.a.t imagine #s.w.a.t cbs #dominique luca #luca

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honeyheart19 · 2 years

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Can't Help Falling In Love

Chris Alonso x fem!reader, Jim Street x sister!reader

Note: I'm sorry if this is short. I've been listening to a lot of Elvis lately and thought "hmm there's not enough Chris Alonso fics". Enjoy :)

Summery: Chris reflects on her relationship with reader

Warnings: fluffiness, worries of rushing into relationship, implied smut, no order of lyrics, jumping in time

Chris's POV:

*knock knock knock*

I heard the door go, freeing me from my trance "Hey bride to be! Almost ready?" Ericka excitedly said. "Ya sorry, I was just thinking" I replied. "Not getting cold feet are you? Because as close as you are to Street, I don't think he'll take to kindly to you leaving y/n at the alter" she laughed.

"I wouldn't dream of it. I was just thinking of everything that's brought y/n and I here"

Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be

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

I put my weights down and jogged over.

"Chris, this is my sister y/n. She's gonna be working here at SWAT."

"I'm really gonna be doing paper work and assisting Commander Hicks. It's not even close as important to what you guys do" giggled the y/h/c girl.

I almost didn't even process what she said because I lost bright eyes and her smile that lit up the room. Get a hold of yourself Chris.

"Nonsense, you'll be plenty of importance. Welcome to 20-David" I say shaking her hand.

Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you

"Alright Alright! First round on me!" Hondo yelled as we gathered into our favorite bar to our usual booth. I been a long day for all of us and all I want to do is hangout and relax with y/n 20-David.

"I'm down for a round of pool, any takers?" I asked.

"Nah I'm beat"

"Same here"

"Maybe next round"

"I just want a beer"

"I'm pretty sure you cheat because you're always beating me."

After all the guys turned me down I turned to y/n. "Care for a game?" I asked reaching out my hand. "Of course" she said as she took my hand pulled herself up. "I've never really played this before" she said as we got out sticks.

"That's fine. Lucky for you, you have the master of pool to teach ya"

I get behind her and pull her close to set up her first shot. As the balls scatter, she around to me. If I were to lean a couple inches closer I could feel her soft looking lip. "I guess I am pretty lucky" she says as I'm still holding on to her.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin If I can't help falling in love with you?

"Do you want to come upstairs?" the y/e/c eyed girl shyly asked me while sharing into my eyes.

I've only known this girl for almost a month. It's our first date, consisting of a scary movie (thank God), the best burgers in town, and funny enough, roller-skating. The day went by so smoothly I feel like I've known this woman for years!

"You don't have to if you're not comfortable of course!" she quickly states while I was struggling to form my words.

I eventually build my confidence.

"Come on" I say as I take her hands in mine "would it really be a sin?" slyly remark.

"I guess not..." she blushes.

We turn to climb to to her apartment hand in hand. Excited to explore where the night take us.

Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you

"I think I wanna marry y/n"

*Ppppphhhhfffff*

water sprays from Streets lips and Tan chokes on his bagel while Luca laughs at his misfortune. "You what!?" Street asks.

"Don't you think it's a little early? Deacon questions. "You don't wanna make any foolish decision and rush in"

"You guys have only been living together for just over four months." Street adds.

"We've never seen you rush into anything like this before Chris." says Hondo

"Agh, I know but something about this feels different. It feels right. My family loves her, we have a routine down at home, she's understandable with SWAT hours and we've even discussed plans for our future!" I counter.

"Come on guys!" laughs Luca "I think this is a great idea! Our pal Chris is a fool in love!" he jokes as I role my eyes and smirk. "Besides, SWAT is a family and family supports each other." he says as he gives me a side hug. "Thanks Luca" I smile.

"Fine but, I get best man" Street says as a smile grows on his face.

"Deal"

For I can't help falling in love with you For I can't help falling in love with you

I can't believe I'm here.

I year ago if you would've told me I was gonna meet and marry the love of my life I would've thought you were joking.

But here we are, in Deacon's backyard.

The stars are out, string lights and flowers hang everywhere, I'm surrounded by the people I love. And I'm dancing with my new wife for the first time to our song.

I'm excited to see what the future holds for us.

And I can't help but whisper to the lyrics

"I can't help falling in love with you....."

#swat cbs #chris alonso #chris alonso x reader #swat imagine #jim street

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thecallthatchangemydestiny · 8 months

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DOMINIC LUCA ONE-SHOT

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

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

-Okay, you’re going tomorrow-

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

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

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

•The next day•

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-I was worried about you.-

-I know-

-how do you know that?- said Luca funny

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

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

-I had a big mad crush on you too-

#swat 2017 #swat cbs #dominique luca #Dominic Luca #jim street #hondo harrelson #chris alonso #victor tan #one shot #kenny johnson #swat imagines #swat team

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cowboyhat29748 · 11 months

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Chris Alonso imagine

She walks through the door and is looking at me with a bit more defeated posture than her usual strong confident self and I can immediately tell that something is off.

I know she’s a very straight forward person so I try to match her energy and just call it how I see it. “What’s wrong babe” Chris simply replies “nothing” like I can’t tell when she’s feeling down after knowing her for so long “I can tell when something’s wrong with you Chris” I address, but she sarcastically responds with “so you can read me now huh”

Not like I didn’t expect her typical defense mechanisms, she’s usually a very guarded person and with being a swat officer she has learned not to show her emotions and bury them instead

I responded with “of course I can” she role her eyes and I chuckle “but seriously baby just tell me what’s going on, I know you think it might be too much for me but swat or not I can handle everything you tell me but clearly you need someone to help you handle it as well” she sighs and look everywhere but me. I can tell I’m starting to get her to consider opening up,

“it’s ok Chris”

She slowly and cautiously starts talking about some victims, teen girls, who were DOA at a scene she arrived on today and she talks about the guilt she felt for not being able to save them, shes tearing up during the confession and after she’s done I get up and pull her into a hug which she melts into, as soon as our bodies touch she breaks like glass that’s been hit one too many times.

It’s rare to see her cry but I’ve never seen her sob, not like this at least. She lets out all the emotions she’s been holding in and I just hold her in my arms comforting her “it’s ok baby girl I got you let it out” she mumbles apologies about crying and not being able to be in control of her emotions and i try and just give her those reassurances she needs, I know she needs to cry so I’ll hold her as long as she needs, just being thankful she trusts me enough to let her carefully guarded wall down in front of me.

I gently pull back from the hug and cup her face with my hands, making her look at me. "It's okay, Chris," I say softly, "Let it all out." I wipe away her tears with my thumbs and continue, "But you can't hold it all in forever. You need to talk to someone about it. Maybe a therapist or someone else on the team who has been through similar things, or, and this is my favorite option, me."

She nods, sniffling, and leans back into my embrace. We sit there for a while longer, until she calms down and her breathing returns to normal. "Thanks" she whispers.

I kiss her forehead and hold her tighter. “I always got your six" I promise. "No matter what."

#chris alonso #swat cbs #swat imagines #Chris Alonso needs someone to hold her while she cries #Could be street idk #I hate when people make Chris and streets only trait about liking each other tho #Other than that I’m good with stris #Chair Alonso soft #Swat is a hard job #Chair Alonso x reader #Ur pillow can act like chris #Need more Chris Alonso focus out there #Justice for Chris Alonso’s suppressed emotions #Girls in swat deserve to be emotional too #This is my first fix bro I’m low key scared #I’m not a writer dude #I’m too bored for my own good

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mysticmomentsblog · 2 years

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Bet you all thought I forgot… NOPE! I just wanted to make it right! 🥰 Rebecca Luca (OC) is gonna be an unforgettable legend! 💗 I hope you’ll all see what I’m creating and love the love story as much as I already do 💕

Gif is not mine 💗

#cbs swat #imagine #original character #deacon kay x reader #deacon kay #dominique luca #lovers #fanfic

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renee-writer · 1 year

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Out of Time Chapter 19

AO3

SWAT goes first. Everyone is at high alert. The explosion on all their minds. Hard eyes scan the little house, on the quiet street. A for sale sign are on the lawns on either side.

“No neighbors. Helps to keep the secret.” John mumbles. He stands behind Murtagh and Jamie. Geillis is in front of them and Mary behind.

“Aye.” Murtagh replies. They walk briskly behind the SWAT team. Guns are at the ready and eyes are scanning.

The old porch gives a groan as the step on it. A brisk knock, a shout, “The police, open up!” and the door is breached. Everyone spreads out. Guns out. “Clear!” echoes as each room is searched.

“They aren’t on the main floor. I would imagine a basement.” Geillis heads down, following a few members of the SWAT unit.

The smell is what they notice first. It is the smell of a teenage boy, times a hundred. Semen and sweat. The men try to run but SWAT gets them.

“Where are ye going?” a big burly man says as he grabs one of the brothers. “You ashamed of yer handiwork.”

“Right o, don’t ye want to introduce us to your dates?” Another says, grabbing his brother.

Geillis radios her team and they head down. Ambulances are called as the brothers are roughly manhandled upstairs and loaded into separate cars.

Mary swallows hard at seeing Windy and Dana. “At least we can get them back to their families. Maybe they won’t remember much.” The paramedics are starting lines, taking vitals and hurrying to get them out of the basement.

“Depends on how deep they were under.” John says.

Jamie and Murtagh sit across from Joe Gerald. “Pretty stupid to have sent those videos to our tech analyst. That is how we found you.” Murtagh days in a conversational style.

“What do you expect from a lad who has to drug a lass to be able to rape her.” Jamie adds looking at Joe can with unveiled disgust.

“Your hubris was your downfall. You and your brother thought you were smarter then us.”

“Bad mistake. No one is smarter then CB. You will now spend the rest of your miserable lives in prison.” Jamie shakes his head, “Where I pray you get to experience what it is like to be raped yourself.”

Joe stays quiet throughout. He just sneers at them.

After a short plane ride they arrive home. Murtagh and the other members of the team hug Claire. Jamie hugs her and then, as promised, kisses her. This brings a air of levity that is surely needed after that case. The kiss is work appropriate. Just a bare pressing of his against hers. It leaves them both longing for more.

“Hey baby girl how about I take you to dinner.” He whispers so only she can hear.

“I would like that.” They grin at each other.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #out of time #chapter 19 #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom #modern au

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 month

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It's Your Life, But Let Me In

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: You overhear Chris and Molly giving Street a hard time and ignoring his boundaries. When you encourage him to make his own decisions and remind him that you are with him, he realizes how different you are.

Warnings: spoilers for and dialogue from S.W.A.T. 4x7 "Under Fire", angst to fluff, Chris and Molly, love confession, kissing

Word Count: 3.8k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

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

“Luca needs to get back from Germany,” you bemoan. “I’m starving.”

“There’s this crazy new thing called cooking for yourself. You should try it sometime,” Hondo replies with a smile.

“I have tried and it’s not the same.”

Hondo rolls his eyes and pats your shoulder as Lieutenant Lynch enters S.W.A.T. HQ.

“What are you doing here so early?” she asks you.

“Nothing better to do.”

“Wow. Thanks for that,” Hondo interjects. “I’m not going to let you visit Street anymore if you’re going to treat me like this.”

“You should blame yourself for sending Luca away. I’m irritable because I’m hungry.”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Across town, Street is facing a similar problem of being hungry in Luca’s absence. He’s taken a different approach: less complaining and more cooking for himself and Molly.

“Maybe not as tasty as Luca’s special breakfast burritos, but, uh, as long as he’s in Germany, it’s gonna have to do.” He sees the time and adds, “I’m running late. Would you mind plating these? I’ll be right back.”

“Plating?” Molly repeats. “Think maybe we need to stop binging those cooking shows.”

As she moves the food from the pan onto the prepared plates, three plates she notices but doesn’t stop to wonder why, Jim’s phone begins vibrating on the table.

“Babe, your phone!” Molly calls. When she doesn’t receive a reply, she looks at the caller ID: State Prison Lancaster. “I think it’s your mom!” she adds.

After two more vibrations, she answers and says, “Jim Street’s phone.”

“This is a collect call from state prison inmate Karen Street. Will you accept the charges?” an automated voice asks.

“Yes.” When the line connects, Molly begins, “Mrs. Street, my name is Molly. I’m Jim’s girlfriend.”

While Molly answers his phone, Street gathers his things and thinks of you. You’re supposed to stop by the station this morning to visit, and he’s planning to take you some food because he knows you miss Luca’s incredible meals as much as he does. Upon returning from the bedroom, he sees Molly on the phone and asks, “Is that my phone?”

“Yes,” Molly answers, covering the microphone. “Just a sec, Mrs. Street. Here’s Jim.”

Street takes the phone and ends the call before sliding it into his pocket. He returns to the kitchen and shakes his head at his mom’s antics.

“Jim, what are you doing?” Molly asks. “That was your mom.”

“Yeah, I know. Why would you answer that?” Street replies.

“What if it was an emergency? Which it was. She’s really sick. Says they’ve got her at the prison infirmary.”

“She’s fine.”

“She didn’t sound fine.”

“I promise you it’s just another one of her scams to suck me back into her life.”

“If you’d talked to her, we’d know for sure, wouldn’t we?”

“There’s a reason that I never mention my mother to you. I’m done with her. She’s out of my life. I don’t want her anywhere near me, and I definitely don’t want you anywhere near her. Believe me, it’s for your own good.”

Molly stands in her place, unable to see where Street is coming from. She doesn’t understand why he is so comfortable leaving his mother alone, especially when she calls to tell him she’s not doing well.

“You know,” Molly says after a moment, “I’m going to be late. I’ll grab breakfast at work.”

“Molly,” Street calls after her. “Just wait a second, Molly.”

He sighs as the door closes behind her and sets the empty pan to the side. Street has never been great at relationships, but after Molly ignores his reasons and wishes, he’s not sure she is the woman worth fighting for, anyway.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Good morning,” Deacon says as he looks over your shoulder.

You turn quickly and smile when you see Street walking toward you. He extends a covered bowl of food, and you gasp excitedly before thanking him. His close-lipped smile immediately clues you into the fact that something is wrong.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Yeah, I’m good. Enjoy the food.”

You nod and thank him again before he walks away with his team. After their morning meeting, you hope to spend a few more minutes with Street and get to the bottom of whatever bothers him. Years of friendship have brought you incredibly close to him, and you want him to know that you support him, no matter what he is going through. However, you also know that he is with Molly, so you respect that boundary, too. While you want to hug him, hold him tight, and promise that everything will be okay, that isn’t your place. Until he invites you in, you are happy being an onlooker in Street’s life.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“You made breakfast,” Chris muses as she shakes her head. “Guess that means Molly stayed over.”

“How’s that going?” Deacon asks. “You planning to settle down sometime soon?”

Street inhales before he shrugs. “I guess we’ll see how it works out.”

“Hey,” Hondo calls as he gestures for Street to hang back and talk to him. Once the rest of the team is out of earshot, Hondo says, “I haven’t heard much about your personal life recently. Your mom’s not still giving you trouble, is she?”

While you look for Street to thank him for the delicious breakfast, you accidentally stumble upon him talking to Hondo about his mom. You stop in a nearby hallway, and prepare to turn around to let Street finish his conversation privately. He tells you a lot about his life, and though you don’t know how big that is for him, you think you probably already know what he’s going to say: he has everything under control, even if he doesn’t, because he has trouble asking for help.

“I got it all handled," Street answers as expected.

“That’s not an answer. Talk to me,” Hondo replies.

“She tried to call me this morning from prison. Molly answered, she didn’t know any better.”

On that note, you do turn and walk away. Molly is not your friend, Street is, so now that the conversation has shifted, you feel wrong about eavesdropping further.

“That doesn’t sound handled. Your mom still locked up?”

“Yeah. Violating parole should’ve been just a year, max, but she’s still there, so it can only mean she’s still screwing up.”

“You don’t talk to her?”

“No. I mean, I did, early on a couple times. But it’s always the same old BS with her… How she’s a victim, how the C.O.s or the other prisoners aren’t treating her right. Nothing’s ever her fault.”

“She’s still blaming you for being there?”

“Probably. She was never exactly the forgiving type.”

“All right, look, kid. I’ve always tried to have your back where your mom’s concerned. Now, we banged heads over it early on, but when it comes down to it, you got to do what’s in your heart.”

Street nods, but lately, what his heart wants goes against what everyone around him thinks is right.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“C’mon,” Chris says, “I have to do the boring part of the job and I could use some company.”

You nod and follow her into the kitchen and dining area of S.W.A.T. HQ. Technically, you were supposed to leave a while ago, but you’re still worried about Street and want to stay close in case he needs a friend. Yes, his teammates are also his friends, but since you don’t work with him daily, it is easier for him to open up to you. Or, at least, that’s the reason as you see it.

Chris gives you a few directions so you can help her and make the project go twice as fast. You work side-by-side and talk about your plans for the weekend. Even though you aren’t on the team, Street’s teammates always make you feel like part of the family when you stop by.

“So, any big weekend plans to tell Street how you actually feel?” Chris asks.

Luckily, the door opens before you can reply.

“Oh, hey,” Street says when he enters.

He smiles and asks what you’re still doing here, but you don’t get to answer before Molly walks in.

“Molly, what’s up?” Street asks.

You return your attention to your task, and you and Chris speed up to get out of the room as quickly as possible.

“I know you’re busy, but I called the prison to check on your mom.”

Once you hear that Molly crossed such a clear boundary, you freeze momentarily before growing desperate to escape this conversation.

“You did what?” Street demands.

“She wasn’t lying, Jim. I talked to a doctor, it’s something with her liver. They’re transferring her to a hospital for tests. It’s bad.”

“I told you, I want nothing to do with her. You know our history. Her- her drug abuse, alcohol, violence.”

“Every one of those things is consistent with her being abused,” Molly argues.

“Do not go making her a victim.”

You finish what you’re working on and look at Chris. She picks everything up and points hurriedly at the door. A tiny part of you wants to hear where this is going, but you and Street are too close to throw away your relationship over something he will tell you when he’s ready.

“Well, that was…” you begin as you walk into the hallway.

“It’s going to be a long day,” Chris sighs.

“Not what I was thinking,” you murmur.

You look back over your shoulder at the door and wish you could go in and encourage him to do whatever he wants, whatever he thinks is right. But Molly is in there, and you trust Street will always do the right thing no matter what she says.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Street watches you leave and wants to follow you, but Molly continues arguing.

“Babe, your mom is a victim. I deal with women like your mother all the time, their lives destroyed by the trauma of being abused and never getting help. Twenty years ago, she needed treatment, and all she’s had is a life of black eyes and incarceration.”

“This is my fault for having her locked up again?” Street questions.

“No. But, Jim, this is the woman who gave birth to you.”

“And dragged me through hell every day since. She betrayed me, she lied to me, she stole from me, she almost cost me my career at S.W.A.T. I can’t believe you’re taking her side on this.”

“I’m not taking sides.”

“Don’t you think maybe you should be? You know what? I can’t do this right now. I’m at work, okay? I just…” Street turns and walks toward the door as he finishes, “Can’t do this.”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You leave the station soon after Street returns from his conversation with Molly. You plan to visit again when he gets off and remind him that you’re here for him, but he is at work and has more important things to focus on than his mom, girlfriend, or you. There’s a brief moment where you consider calling Luca and asking him to talk to Street. You decide against it because Jim probably doesn’t need anyone else in his business right now.

When you arrive at the station, Deacon sees you in the parking lot and insists you go inside. He noticed Street’s off attitude, too, and thinks you're the cure.

“Are you sure?” you ask quietly.

“He needs a friend. That’s you.”

You nod and walk into HQ. Street isn’t around, so you sit beside the locker room and are soon unintentionally eavesdropping for the third time today.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

At the end of the shift, after a long day of saving firefighters and finding a shooter, Chris and Street are in the locker room and preparing to leave. Street wants to go home, maybe call you, and then enjoy some alone time without anyone asking him what he is going to do, or worse, tell him what he should do.

“You figured out how you’re gonna make it right to Molly yet?” Chris asks.

“How I’m gonna make it right? I’m not the one who needs to apologize," Street replies.

“We got out of there as fast as we could, but I heard enough to know, you… You’ve got some fences to mend.”

“You also heard how she totally went behind my back with my mom.”

“Her motive being, what? Compassion? Giving a crap about women who’ve had a messed-up life?”

You pull your phone from your pocket and press Street’s number. He doesn’t answer, and you frown before standing. You don’t want to hear more than you have to, so you walk to the parking lot and wait beside Street’s bike. He exits the building alone and is clearly in no mood to talk, but you must ensure he knows that Molly and Chris are wrong. They have no say in his personal life and are never willing to be there for him.

“Hi,” you greet. “I know you’ve had a crazy day and you’re ready to get home, but I need to say something first.”

“Let me guess,” he begins defensively. “You’re going to tell me that I should go see my mom or apologize to Molly. Why not make it better and say both?”

You fight down a smile at his response. At least he hasn’t lost his personality in the day he’s had.

“Actually,” you reply, “I was going to tell you that Chris and Molly overstepped. None of these decisions are theirs, and, in the end, it’s your choice. Because your life is the one being most affected. I just thought you could use a reminder that no one gets to make these calls for you. It’s your life, Street. I, for one, am with you no matter what you decide to do.”

“What if I make the wrong decision?” he whispers. Every trace of defensiveness is gone in his clear doubt about the choices he faces.

“Then you’ll find a way to learn from it. I don’t think there is a wrong decision here; unless, of course, it’s not yours.”

“I really don’t want to talk to my mom.”

“Then don’t. You know you and you know her, so you know what is best for you and your relationship with her. If that’s no relationship, that’s your choice.”

“I don’t know.”

“But you will,” you promise. “You’ll make the best decision for the right reasons. You choose for you, not for anyone else, okay?”

Street nods slowly, and you wish him goodnight before you turn toward your car. Suddenly, you remember he is facing one more decision and spin to face him.

“One more thing, Street. You didn’t do anything wrong, you just stood up for yourself, so don’t apologize unless you think you need to. Don’t let anyone that’s not in your relationship into your relationship.”

“Thank you,” he calls after you.

You don’t see Street’s smile return as you enter your car, but your statements help him more than you thought they would.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

When Street texts Molly and asks her to come over, he fully expects her to say no, so when she knocks on the door a few minutes later, he’s surprised.

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he invites her in. “I wasn’t sure you would after today.”

“I’m here, so…” Molly begins. She trails off and waits for Jim to do something.

There’s an apology somewhere inside Street, where he says he was a jerk and makes excuses for his actions. However, your words are fresh in his mind, and he decides not to apologize. As he looks at Molly and compares what she said and did today to your words and actions, Street realizes something.

Whenever he thinks of taking the next step with Molly or one of the guys asks where he sees the relationship going, he can’t get past this point. Hondo joked that it was his inner playboy, but Street sees now that the issue was never him or a fear of commitment. It was Molly the whole time.

Since the beginning, Street knew that Molly wasn’t the right one, but he’s finally ready to admit it. Molly was never really there for him, never listened to him – still doesn’t, Street thinks – and she has never been respectful or careful of his boundaries.

“You may be expecting an apology,” Street says, “but I don’t think I need to give you one. I asked you to leave it alone, and you didn’t. I know you mean well, Molly, but I can’t keep doing this if you’re just going to go behind my back and ignore everything I say.”

“She’s your mother!” Molly argues. “You still have time to fix things with her.”

“That’s just it, though. I’m- I’m not sure I want to. Listen, Molly, I know that you lost your mother, and how devastating that was for you, but it’s not the same situation for me.”

Street’s mind drifts to you. He remembers what you said earlier and realizes it has always been you. You are the only person in his life who has always been with him, listened to him, supported him, and respected his feelings. You respect him and his boundaries no matter what. Unlike Chris and Molly, you’ve never tried to decide for him or make him see your reasoning, but you’ve been there to talk or listen when he needs it.

“Molly, look. I love you; I do. But not in the way that you deserve to be loved, or that I need to love whoever I spend my life with,” Street explains. “You will always be special to me, but I have to make my own choices.”

Molly wipes a tear as she asks, “Like what?”

“When to go get the girl,” Street answers quietly.

Molly nods and rushes out of Street’s house. He sighs before he follows her.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

A loud knock pulls your attention from the book in your lap, and you set it to the side before you slowly walk to the door.

“It’s me,” Street says from the other side.

You release a breath and open the door. It’s late, and you’re confused about why Street is knocking on your door when he’s supposed to be with Molly, but you let him in anyway. When he stops beside your table and stares at the book you left on it, completely silent, you grow less confused and more concerned.

“Street,” you say. You lay your hand on his arm and ask, “You’ve been different today. What’s bothering you?”

“You,” he whispers.

After you pull your hand away, shocked and heartbroken at his answer, he rushes to explain himself.

“No, listen,” he begs. “What you said earlier changed everything. You told me that it was my decision and that I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to, all that. But, when I was talking to Molly about how she doesn’t respect my decisions or my boundaries and tries to force her opinions about what I should do without knowing my reasons, I remembered you.”

You furrow your brows, and Street raises his hands to hold your shoulders.

“I appreciate you, so much. Not just for telling me what I deserve but for being that and so much more. You are the only person in my life that just lets me do what I need to do, and you’re by my side through all of it. Everything that you said I needed, I have in you. Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s your life, Street,” you reply. “But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

“You-“ Street begins again before trailing off. He doesn’t know how to express his feelings because he’s slowly realizing what he feels for you.

“Spit it out, Street,” you say with a smile. “I’m here to listen.”

Street shakes his head but lowers his voice to do as you say. “I loved Molly, but- but Molly didn’t just love me back. She tried to tell me how to love. And Chris- I don’t even know what Chris’s problem is; some days she wants to love and others she just wants to be loved, but never at the same time. It’s exhausting to deal with, but then she argues about what love looks like even though she can’t possibly know.”

You nod along, not sure what Street needs or wants to hear. Staying silent seems like the best option while he works through these thoughts. He’s saying the word love a lot, but never in the present tense or as an active feeling, you notice.

“But you… with you everything is shared. You love without expecting love in return, and you listen and remember. There has never been a moment with you where I felt pressured or ignored, and I love that about you.”

You smile and open your mouth to tell Street you’ll always be here for him, but he cuts you off.

“I love that about you,” he repeats. “I love you because you are everything I don’t deserve, but you make me feel deserved.”

After your eyes widen, you make a noise that sounds like a sob and a laugh. Street waits for you to say something, but you can’t beat the speech he just gave, so you raise your hands to his cheeks and nod. His eyes widen to match yours when a tear slides over the bump of your cheek as your smile returns.

“You said it’s my life, but I don’t have to do it alone, right?” Street murmurs as you step closer to him.

“Right.”

“Then, I think that I’d like to make you a bigger part of my life.”

You don’t hesitate to kiss him, and as he meets you in the middle, you think about how long you have wanted to be part of his life. Being near him was beautiful, but being by his side through everything will be an entirely new and perfect experience. You love Jim Street, and now that he loves you, too, you feel like a part of his life, not an accessory to it.

“I love you,” you say against his lips.

Street’s arms tighten around your waist, and he tilts his chin to kiss your forehead before standing.

“Did you break up with Molly before you came over here?” you whisper.

Street nods, and you bite your bottom lip before saying, “So, you’re giving me her position?”

“No,” Street promises with a laugh. “I’m giving you the position I should have given you a long time ago.”

You kiss Street quickly and laugh when he tries to follow you for more. “I promise to fill my position well, and to always listen to you, respect your boundaries…”

Street ducks his head, and his nose brushes against yours as he replies, “Maybe we could remove a few of our boundaries.”

He kisses you again, and you find that you like your new position in Jim Street’s life more than you ever anticipated.

#jim street x reader #hanna writes✯#jim street x fem!reader #jim street fluff #jim street #swat cbs #street x reader #jim street imagine #jim street fic #requests #fem!reader

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just-a-girl-who-wrytes · 8 months

Text

Hero

For you, @spnshortcake !

You pulled your husband’s body close to yours by his belt. He cradled your face in his hands, giving you a deep, loving kiss.

“Be safe today, baby.” You said to him once he pulled away.

He responded with a smile, “Everyone goes home, darling.”

You and Deacon were both preparing to leave for work, standing between your vehicles parked in your garage. He opened your car door for you to get in. Once you were buckled, he leaned in and kissed you again. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“I will be right here, waiting on my prince charming.” You winked at him as he shut your door and you parted ways.

Deacon walked into the station with his duffel bag on his shoulder. He greeted his team mates and made himself a cup of coffee before meeting in the debrief room prior to their shift starting. Once the team was seated around the table, Hicks stepped into the room and began a rundown of what to expect for the day. Right before the meeting wrapped up, Hicks�� cell phone rang. He answered it and quickly told the team to suit up as all their pagers went off simultaneously.

“There’s a hostage situation at a bank downtown.” Hicks announced.

A few minutes later, the team was in Black Betty, heading towards their call.

“Hostage situation, one confirmed fatality, a few other injured is what we know so far.” Hondo said as he began reading the notes that came across his work phone to give his guys a rundown of what they were heading into.

Hondo made it to the bottom of the notes and saw the address of the bank they were going to. “Deacon?”

“Oh my god.” Deacon interrupted. He had beat Hondo to the bank’s address in the notes. He immediately pulled out his personal cell phone and tried to call you, only to be greeted by your voicemail.

Hondo knew you hadn’t answered as he watched his teammates face turn pale and tears well up in his eyes.

“She is okay, brother. We are going to take care of her, but I need to know you are safe to go in here with us.” He leaned forward, meeting Deacon eye to eye.

Deacon looked at him and nodded, wiping his eyes. “She knows what to do, she’s trained with us before; we’ve taught her what to do…” He spoke words, yearning for his heart to believe what his mouth was saying. “I’m good, Hondo. It’s my job to protect her.”

S.W.A.T. arrived on scene to law enforcement still getting a perimeter set up outside of the bank. The team lined up at the front and back entrance of the building, preparing to enter once given the go ahead.

Deacon was sure his heart rate was 180. He was scared as hell on what he might walk into. He knew you had been faced with losing him multiple times – how many calls had involved him getting shot at and he was unable to communicate with you until hours later? It was a part of the territory that came with being a SWAT wife. Even though he had put himself in your shoes before, or at least tried to, he had never actually been in your shoes and it made him nauseated at the thought of losing you. He made a brief mental note to love on you extra once you were safe in his arms.

Deacon lined up behind Hondo, preparing to enter the building.

Once they entered, Deacon took lead. One masked man laid on the floor in front of the teller’s desk, dead. There was no one behind the teller’s desk. A second body was found in the hallway leading to a back area of the bank. Deacon was initially unable to determine if the second person was a suspect or an employee, but soon noticed a firearm laying several feet away from him and decided that the dead man was likely a suspect.

The rest of the bank was cleared except for the conference room. It was the last hallway and room to be cleared. The team approached the door. Deacon took his stance on the side of the door.

“LAPD,” Deacon announced, his voice deep and loud.

“David?!” A weak voice came from the other side of the door.

As soon as Deacon heard your voice, he immediately opened the door, gun aimed, his teammates behind him.

20 David entered the room to find you kneeling on the ground with your knee in the groin of one of the bank tellers who had gotten shot. Your knee was holding pressure to gun-shot wound to keep him from bleeding out of his femoral artery, where he had been struck. Your 9mm was pointed right back at the SWAT team. Other bank employees were also cowered in the corner of the room to your left.

As soon as you saw your husband and his team, you lowered your weapon and began sobbing.

“The shooters are dead,” you said through sobs and hyperventilating, “We need EMS for him.” You nodded your head towards your coworker whose life was in your… knee.

“Oh my god,” Hondo said as he looked around the room.

“Oh, baby…” Deacon said simultaneously. If you didn’t know better, you’d say your husband was also on the verge of tears as well.

The team began getting the other bank employees out of the building. Deacon kneeled in front of you and cradled your face.

“You did that?” he asked, nodding his head towards the door behind him, referencing the two dead gunman in the front of the bank.

You nodded with tears still streaming down your face. Deacon glanced down at the gun beside you and immediately recognized that it was your personal firearm.

“Why didn’t you tell me you carried in here?” He kept his voice low to avoid any unwarranted questions. You both knew you would soon face plenty of those.

“Because, I didn’t want you to ever be in trouble for knowing and not saying anything about it if… something like this were to happen.” You knew that anything you did could fall back on your husband if he was aware of it – another part of the SWAT wife territory. The last thing you wanted to do was to get him into trouble.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head.

“What happened?”

You sharply inhaled as you told your story for the first of many times that day.

You were in your office at the bank when you heard loud voices followed by screams followed by instructions to “shut the fuck up!” Your heart sank when your mind processed what was happening but you didn’t have much time because very soon after, you heard a gunshot followed by more screaming. You pulled your firearm out of the holster underneath of your shirt, aimed it, and immediately met a gunman in the hallway. When you saw his weapon being raised towards you, you didn’t hesitate to pull your trigger.

The man was dead before he hit the ground.

You quietly made your way to the front of the bank. You peeked around the corner to see a second gunman pacing back and forth with the bank employees on the ground. His back was towards you and you took the shot the second that you had it. He was also dead moments later.

You paused and looked around for a third gunman. When you didn’t see one after several moments, you stepped out into the front of the bank to find the teller shot. No one else was injured that you noticed.

You had two male customers drag the injured employee to the conference room after you instructed everyone else to make their way there. It was a central room in the building. You didn’t know what was waiting on the outside of the bank for all of you if you decided to leave so you didn’t want to send anyone out. You knew you could sit inside of the room with your gun to neutralize any further threats that may find you.

It was fourteen minutes from the time you shut and locked the door, knelt down with your knee in your coworker’s groin, steadied yourself and pointed your firearm at the door. However, it felt like eternity. You couldn’t express the relief that you felt when your husband was the first person you saw to walk through the door. It had felt like an eternity.

Deacon kissed your forehead moments before paramedics entered the room.

Security footage confirmed your story. Ever since you and David began dating, he always told you that everyone goes home when you told him to be safe. It was a theory you had adopted as well. That was why you decided to begin carrying your firearm inside of the bank with you every day at work. You knew if it was ever discovered, it would cost you your job, but what was the alternative? Losing your life? Jobs could be replaced. You or your husband could not be.

And your suspicion of the following repercussions were correct – you were let go from the bank for carrying inside against policy. But, as you walked out of the interrogation room, hand in hand with Deacon, you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you got to be with your husband.

The rest of the day was long and you didn’t walk out of your investigation until the early hours of the morning. You were walking hand in hand out of SWAT’s headquarters with Deacon. You had been able to shower at the station and Deacon had spare clothes you put on, but you were ready to get home, take a shower with your own things and slip into bed with your prince charming.

The day had been so exhausting that you didn’t have much energy left for any conversation with Deacon and he recognized that. He didn’t pressure you to talk as you arrived home, showered, and prepared for bed together. He climbed into bed beside you and pulled you into his arms. Even as you drifted off to sleep, you were intoxicated by your husband’s scent – his skin, his beard oil, his body wash, and the spritz of cologne he put on every night before bed simply because he knew that you loved it. You were so grateful for the safety of David’s arms.

The following morning, you woke up still entangled in your husband.

“Good morning, beautiful.” David said softly once he saw your eyes flutter open.

“Mmm,” you nuzzled into your husband’s neck. “Good morning, baby.”

He kissed your forehead. “What would you like to do today?”

“Is spending the day wrapped up in you an option?”

“It most definitely is if that’s what you want.” He rubbed your arm with his thumb. “Are you hungry?”

“Is my name Mrs. Kay?”

Deacon chuckled. “Let’s go get some food, then we’ll come home and snuggle until you get tired of me.”

“Never.”

Deacon took you to your favorite coffee shop for breakfast. He chose a booth for the two of you and sat down on one side before pulling you into the seat next to him. He turned so he could pull you close to him and keep his arm around you.

He was never one for much PDA so this took you slightly off guard, but you had no complaints. You were so thankful for Deacon after the previous day’s events. He peppered your cheek with kisses while you waiting on your food.

“You know…” Deacon started talking after your plates were placed in front of you. You turned so that you were facing your husband while sitting next to him. “I know that you face the fear of something happening to me every single day I go to work,” he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “But I have never truly understood what that fear felt like – until yesterday.”

You gave Deacon a small smile. He caressed your face with his hand, softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Baby, I don’t know how you endure that every day you watch me leave.”

You reached up and held Deacon’s wrist and leaned into his hand.

“Lots of prayer…” you started, “and it comes with the territory.” You winked at him.

“You know you’re a hero, right?” Deacon asked.

You scoffed, “Not hardly.”

“Baby, because of you all of your coworkers lived and went home yesterday.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about taking the gun to work with me.”

Deacon chuckled. It was typical of you to disregard compliments that shined any light on you – it made you uncomfortable.

“Mrs. Kay, I am going to spend the rest of our lives never letting you forget how much I love you and how much you mean to me.”

He leaned in and kissed you. He managed to keep the kiss PG, but you felt every ounce of passion that filled the kiss.

You spent breakfast with your husband feeding each other pancakes and bacon, giggling and stealing quick kisses from each other.

“Will you go home with me?” Deacon asked flirtatiously as you finished your last sip of chocolate milk.

“Mmmm,” you smirked at him, “Going home with a good lookin’ man? Sounds like a fun time to me.”

“God, I love you,” he kissed you again.

You slid out of the booth, hanging onto your husband as you walked to the cash register together. Deacon paid for your food and drove you home together. When you got home, he opened your car door, helped you out, led you inside, and started your favorite movie before pulling you into his lap on your couch. You spent the day, snuggled up with your Sergeant.

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