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writings-of-a-demigod · 4 months ago

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AAAAAAH I MISSED THIS UPDATE!!!!!! I'm so mad at myself 😤😤 THANK YOU 🩵

my royal roomie pt. 3

fandom: Aquaman

pairing: Orm Marius x Reader

part 1 part 2

summary: As time passes, Orm begins to see you as more than his surface dweller host. Much to his surprise, you’ve captured his attention, which in turn makes him notice just how physically affectionate you are with everyone except him.

word count: 5500+

warnings: light cursing, touch starved!orm, light angst if you squint, comic lore inaccuracies, slow burn, divorced parents!reader, dead parents!reader, mentions of being smaller in comparison to orm, flora inaccuracies??

a/n: hey...how y'all doin :,) i'm sorry i lagged on this part for MONTHS, but i finally had some spare time and motivation to finish it, so here ya go!

The dynamic between you and Orm didn’t make a complete 180 after your late night talk - in fact, it was quite awkward for the first few days following. Orm, although now deciding to actually be in the same room as you for longer than five minutes, didn’t talk much when you were in each other’s presence. The Atlantean favored just observing you in your natural habitat - when you cooked, when you read, when you talked with people on the phone. You often extended invitations to him to join in your activities, but a silent shake of his platinum head was what you were regularly met with. You tried not to take offense, understanding that small steps forward was better than leaps backward, but you couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved by his probing gaze.

Your expressions when meeting Orm’s eyes were always one of the three - confused, apprehensive, or downright shy. Orm liked playing a silent game with himself whenever he would wait in the communal areas of the house for you, guessing which one would take over your face that day. However, what the Atlantean liked most of all was when you would deviate from all three and bless him with a sheepish look that teetered between flushed and guilty. Although there would be no evident redness behind your cheeks, your flitting eyes and soft smile gave him a new type of satisfaction. Orm wasn’t blind - he could tell you were attracted to him. His heightened senses could pick up on your increase of breaths and the quickening of your heartbeat whenever his eyes would be fixed on you and it made pride swell in his chest. Even with how apparent your interest in him was, you never overstepped - you were always respectful of his space, never even entertaining the fine line between roommates and friends. You had remained awfully friendly, though….

…friendly enough for Orm to realize that the way you interacted with him was vastly different to how you would with others.

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With about two weeks of convincing, multiple threats of rescinding meals, and embarrassing bouts of wide-eyed pleading you had finally worn down the blonde enough to get him to come to town with you. You chose to avoid densely populated areas like the park, the marketplace, or the downtown areas. Even though Orm had proven to be a fine roommate to you, adding other unfamiliar people to the mix could make him uncomfortable. The marina was also out of the question, per Arthur’s suggestion - something about “drying the fucker out a little, karma’s a bitch.” You learned from a young age not to question Arthur’s methods.

The plan was set - you’d bring Orm to the flower shop to act as your assistant for the time being and then you’d end the night at Izzie’s Diner to eliminate the need for grocery shopping. It was going to be like a “Bring Your Kid to Work'' Day scenario, except instead of a kid you’d be bringing a six-foot-something, human hating, Atlantean beefcake to your little store.

From the moment you two had set foot into your establishment, it was clear to Orm that this was your element. The wide variety of flora had caught his attention straight away, his mind immediately drawing comparisons to the plant life of Atlantis. However, your shop wasn’t nearly as flashy or fluorescent - no, your shop was much more intimate. From the hand-painted script on the window to the worn forest green stain on the wood, your shop presented itself as a little slice of heaven to all patrons that entered.

You were quick to put Orm to work, not being shy in showing him that you took pride in your vocation. The first task you had set up for him was to set the premade bouquets out on the displays outside, meticulously instructing him on how you wanted them arranged by color family. (Gods know whatever a “color family” was.) You then had him move large vases of separated flowers into the sunroom - You have the upper body power, you told him, I doubt it’ll be that taxing for you. Once you were satisfied with the layout of the store and Orm had grumbled your ear off plenty, you were ready to open. As to be expected in a small town, there wasn’t much business towards the dead hours of the day, but you had always found something to do to keep busy.

When you were awarded the company of customers, they were always regulars - or at least that’s what Orm deduced. The blonde prince would watch as your eyes brightened and the corners of your lips would turn up impossibly high whenever someone familiar would walk through the door. Not that your smile would be any less bright for a new customer (and not that Orm was watching close enough to tell the difference or anything). You always had sweet words for all that entered into the shop - it was a wonder you didn’t come home completely silent due to exhaustion.

“Does it get tiring?”

Orm’s question stole your attention away from the stems you were trimming, making you turn over your shoulder with a confused expression.

“Does what get tiring?” You asked.

“That attitude. All of-” Orm puts on a fake smile, “-that.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, tossing loose stem bits in his direction which he effortlessly bats away.

“Customer service is a vital part of the job - you get used to it...”

You looked around the shop, reminiscing over your time attending to the customers.

“...and the people of Amnesty Bay are sweet. It’s not hard to reciprocate.”

You spoke as if it was a matter of fact, quickly dismissing all of Orm’s skepticism with one sentence. You didn’t bother arguing further with the Atlantean, thinking that it would do no good to lecture him after putting him to work. Orm had no choice but to hum to himself as he reflected on your words and your easy-going demeanor.

Before he could interrogate you further, your doorbell chimed announcing the arrival of new customers, ones that clearly excited you enough to make you let out a small squeal.

“Sampsons!” You greeted the family happily, practically leaping over the counter to throw your arms around the expecting wife. Orm watched from his peripherals as you cooed cheery greetings to the party of 3 (and a half?), deciphering that these people were your friends. The husband, wife, and young son laughed heartily at your enthusiasm, smiling down at you with equal merriment.

“Girl, you are growing by the minute! How has the pregnancy been?” You stop flitting about the group like a hummingbird to focus on the woman, brushing softly at her hair as you take in her appearance. Orm could see you beaming at her from the corner of his eye, unable to look away from the sight for some reason.

The people surrounding him in Atlantis were always prim and proper, no surprise due to their noble status - never bobble out of place or an expression unpinched. So, seeing how jovial and lively you were when interacting with your friends was entirely new to the prince.

Orm also couldn’t help but notice just how…touchy you were with them. Your eyes never leave your friend - Mrs. Sampson, he presumes - as you softly move strands of hair out of her face, fully engrossed in every word she points in your direction. Your hands stay clasped in hers as your thumb rubs comforting circles at her knuckles. The affection came so naturally with you - this type of petting would undoubtedly turn heads in his kingdom, surely being improper in the eyes of nobility. Mrs. Sampson’s family seemed rather comfortable as well, the young son stepping away from his father numerous times to hug at your legs, which you always acknowledged with a ruffle to his curls.

The love-dripping display before him made Orm feel an unfamiliar tug at his chest, one that he could best describe as longing. Longing for what, Orm doesn’t know (and surely would never admit). The inner thoughts manifest into a particularly pinched expression, which Mr. Sampson notices right away.

“Psst-” your friend’s husband whispers to you. “Who’s the scary blonde?”

You swiftly turn away from your friend to find Orm with his arms crossed, staring from a distance with furrowed brows and pursed lips. You make your way to stand next to him again, proving he means no harm. You’ve been around the Atlantean long enough to know that he was only sporting his inquisitive expression, but you understood that his intimidating stature could paint his curiosity as animosity.

Orm scoffed lightly as his metahuman ears picked up on the husband’s whisper which made you elbow him under the counter in turn, your smile never faltering. While your actions slightly bruised his ego more than his actual skin, he couldn’t help but feel a little impressed at your bravery considering he’s smited others for less. He’d never say it out loud, but you’re much more appealing than his previous offenders - much too appealing indeed.

“Oh shut up, Jonny,” Mrs. Sampson says to her husband as she swats him. She leans over the counter to hold a hand out to him. “I’m Janie - I know, Janie and Jonny sounds like an awful sitcom but that’s just how the pieces fell for us. And this is our son, Miloh-”

Orm reluctantly takes the chipper woman’s hand, being cautious to not accidentally overuse his strength and squeeze too hard. He didn’t really understand any of the words she was saying, but she had a kind eyes and a warm smile that were similar to yours. Orm supposed that you are what you attract.

“This is Or-Orion!” You’re quick to correct, semi-aware of the Atlantean prince’s reputation with the people of Amnesty Bay. “He’s Arthur’s friend - he’s staying with me for a bit.” You pat at Orm’s shoulder, displaying a mask of familiarity to your friends to throw off any suspicions about his true heritage. Orm doesn’t acknowledge the trail of fire your hand leaves when you remove it from his shoulder. The family waves back to him with similar eye crinkling smiles, the young boy looking up at the Atlantean in awe at the sheer mass of him.

“Anyway, what did y’all come here for?”

You loop your arm through Janie’s, whisking her away and leaving “Orion” to stand quietly behind the counter with Jonny and their son. Before you were fully out of his hearing radius, Orm picked up on Janie’s whisper to you: “He’s cute, girl.” You’re quick to shush your friend, taking her to the opposite corner of the shop to look at floral arrangements. The blonde couldn’t help that his chest swelled with pride at quick comment.

“So, how do’ya like Amnesty Bay, Orion?” Jonny asks, pushing his thick framed glasses up his slender nose. He lets Miloh roam free upon feeling his squirming to loosen his father’s hand from his shoulder.

“It’s…more pleasant than I anticipated - peaceful.”

Jonny laughs lightly, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “You used to the city then?”

“Yes, large in population and dense. A far cry from this town.”

Orm and Jonny watch as Miloh comes up behind you to hug at your waist, giggling when you make a big reaction upon him “surprising” you. You swoop the boy into your arms while you continue talking to his mother, the boy basking in the affection you give him. It’s a welcome sight to Orm, one that Jonny notices.

“Has she been a good host to you?”

The Atlantean peels his eyes away from the scene that unexpectedly warms his chest to address the man, pretending to not notice the knowing look on his angular features.

“She has been…very gracious indeed.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Y’know she put us up for two weeks when our roof got totaled by the tidal wave? That girl is too nice for her own good, I swear…”

Orm couldn’t deny your kindness, he had been on the receiving end of it for the past few weeks that he’s roomed with you. Your patience and understanding were the traits that made boarding with you so…seamless.

“Yes, she is. Very much so.”

Jonny, sensing the blonde had little else to say, gave him a polite smile before following after his wife and son. Orm watches as the family embrace you (metaphorically) into their circle, your arms encircling Janie and Miloh naturally. The way you so easily welcome them into your space without a second thought, balancing Miloh on your hip as you twirl at Janie’s hair that falls on her shoulder. He couldn’t help but stare - stare at your gummy smile, at your rosy cheeks, at everywhere your hands fall…

“Alright, I’ll come to yours next week with some sample bouquets and you can choose from there. I’m so excited for you!” Your merry voice rings through the shop as you see the Sampsons out, placing one final kiss on Miloh’s chubby cheek before sending them off with a wave.

When you return to your spot behind the counter, you still have a warm smile lingering on your face. Orm catches it before you do, watching you recompose yourself with a more professional expression.

“They are a…colorful bunch.”

You practically guffaw at his sudden commentary, covering it up with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, definitely lively. Arthur thinks they’re fairies or wood sprites or something.”

“...I see it.”

You find yourself quietly delighted that Orm is entertaining your nonsense talk, making you notice that he’s standing a step closer. You will yourself to loosen the muscles in your back that make you stand erect now that there is less space between you. You also pretend that you don’t notice Orm side eyeing you at the gesture.

“They told me Izzy’s is closing early for the night, so we’ll need to go grocery shopping on the way back home. I hope that’s okay…”

“Whatever is acceptable for you.”

You nod at each other in silent agreement before going back to trimming stems, Orm unsure of why his side that’s closest to you is humming with electricity.

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

The grocery shop you take Orm to is thankfully more empty due to closing time drawing near. You take on cart pushing duty in lieu of passing it on to Orm since he looked at the contraption like it was cursed. Giving Orm a onceover to make sure he was all settled before heading into the store. You choose not to circle around the seafood section just yet, unwilling to be around when the prince would undoubtedly scrunch his face up with a look of disapproval.

“I’ll probably just cook some pasta tonight - nothing too crazy, I’m kinda tired.”

“...you do not have to cook for us. We can order that food Arthur mentioned - granted the words he used to describe it were disgusting - something like ‘juicy’ or ‘cheesy’-”

You nearly stop the cart as you laugh at Orm’s words dripping with disdain, shaking your head at the clear understanding of Arthur’s character.

“I’m assuming he’s talking about a cheeseburger - he’s always had an unceasing enthusiasm for food.”

You stop in the aisle reaching up for a box of what looked like yellow screws to Orm, getting on your tiptoes to reach it but with no success. The Atlantean takes pity on you and gets the box for you, being met with your gracious smile when he places it in your cart. You nod at him sheepishly, hands flexing by the handle of the cart as you shoot Orm a grateful look.

“Ah, thanks-”

When his arm brushes against yours as it passes the food over to your cart, Orm takes note of how stiff you go for a moment. You quickly relax yourself - albeit it seemed like you needed to put some effort into it. A part of him tries not to feel offended at the action, quieting his own curiosity at being the cause of your brief uncomfortability. The other part of him wishes to push you further - to brush against you again to see how you would react to a more firm touch.

“Um, excuse me?”

A soft elderly voice coming from behind you interrupts both of your inner monologues. When you both turn over your shoulders you’re met with the sight of an elderly woman bundled in a thick jacket and chunky beanie hiding her white locks.

“Yes, ma’am?”

Your sweet words ring through Orm’s ears, noting their slightly higher octave as if to appear as non-threatening to the elderly stranger as possible.

“I-I was wondering if you could help me find this brand of bread flour? My grandson is visiting me tomorrow and I always make his favorite snickerdoodles with this brand - I can’t seem to find it-”

“Sure! It should be in this aisle too, at the end-”

You walk in time with the smaller woman, heart clenching at the slow and unsteady steps she takes by your side. Orm follows closely behind as he watches the exchange, brows furrowing at how easily you offer up your arm for the woman to hold onto. When you make it to the end of the aisle, you quickly spot the brand the woman was looking for at the very top shelf, no doubt the reason she was unable to find it on her own.

“Ah, it’s all the way up there, no wonder you didn’t see it.”

“Maybe we can ask one of the workers to help get it - though there aren’t many around now-”

Orm steps forward to be in both of your guys’ lines of sight.

“Please, allow me.”

Orm’s hand reaches up to scan through each brand.

“This one, yes?”

“Yes, the very one!”

Orm grabs two of the flour bags with ease, holding them in his muscular arms.

“Another for the next time your grandson visits. It’s best to be well prepared.”

You watch with slightly widened eyes as he carefully places the flour in the woman’s arms, making sure they stay secure.

“Uh - do you want help getting it to the register? We just about have everything we need-”

“I’m alright! This old girl still has some strength in her.”

You and Orm share a soft laugh at the comment, decidedly letting the woman be off on her own in favor of kicking up a fuss.

“Thank you both, lovely couple you are.”

“Oh we-”

Before you could correct her, she leaves you with a squeeze to your hand, one which you return as your cheeks warm upon her departure. Orm’s stare lingers on your hands as they return to your sides, an unfamiliar pinching feeling stirring in his gut.

“I - uh - I think we have everything we need.”

You are noticeably further from Orm, keeping at least an arm’s distance from him as you push your cart. (Not that he notices those things.) He makes an effort to keep his strides short so as to not get in your space since it’s clearly what you wish. It’s quiet when you pay for your goods and it’s quiet when you load up the car. Orm takes note of how rigid your posture is when you drive away from the grocery store, but makes no comment on it. The quick shift in your demeanor puzzled the Atlantean to no end. You weren’t meant to be hard to navigate - you were human for the gods’ sakes. You were human and yet Orm found himself unable to read you during times like this when you would retreat into yourself and just look onward. He was also puzzled by how much he wanted to read you, to gain a deeper understanding of the inner workings of your mind.

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

After unpacking all the food and a long shower, you seemed to go back to normal, meaning Orm had no place to question your mannerisms through the day which he was (embarrassingly) overanalyzing in his head ever since you both got home. Now having built rapport with Orm’s working skills, you tasked him with washing the vegetables that you would cook for a side. You couldn’t help but smile at how conservative the Atlantean was being with his water usage, your own usage mirroring his. Still new to human appliances, Orm thought it was best to the side as you began preparing dinner. Orm liked watching you flit around the kitchen when you cooked - it was like an organized chaos of sorts. While you were clumsy in a lot of your actions from mincing garlic to measuring out ingredients, you always made it to your end product. The prince had no room to complain about the surface at times like this when you would greet him with your good smelling food and a warm smile to let him know that dinner was ready.

“Hope you’re hungry, I kinda made a lot. I’m still trying to gauge how much Atlanteans eat - I mean I know Arthur eats a shit ton, but that’s Arthur-”

“This is fine,” Orm interjects your rambling with a hand up. “Thank you for preparing the meal.”

You smile over your shoulder at his polite words, moving to prepare the plates. Orm momentarily looks around your living space again, analyzing for the 100th time since boarding with you. Before he can get full surveillance of the room, the sound of a sharp his and a plate clattering onto the counter grabs his attention. The sight of you clutching your wrist puts the blonde on high alert, his long legs taking a few steps to come to your side.

“What happened-”

“I’m fine, Orm, I just got too close to the pan when plating-”

“Let me see-”

“No, I’m good-”

When Orm’s hand reaches out to take a look at your burn, you seize back quicker than when your skin got singed on the pan. His eyes widen briefly before they settle back to their neutral expression with something else burning in them. Orm had tried to hide his shock and annoyance (and in part a feeling of rejection) from your wishes to keep a physical barrier between you two, but now it was directly in his face. He could no longer ignore it.

When you try to maneuver around Orm to get to the ice in your freezer, your actions are brought to a halt when Orm’s hands on your shoulders keep you firmly in place. You look up at the Atlantean with a look of abject shock and fear when you feel how your skin sings under the weight of his heavy hands.

“Orm-”

“You will stop this nonsense at once.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do I disgust you to such a degree that you cannot stand to touch me?”

Your slightly agape mouth closes immediately, your surprised face changing to one of confusion as your narrowed eyes assess Orm’s burning expression.

“What? No, that’s not-”

“Oh please, human, I can see it in your body language how you practically jump away from me at any sign of closeness. Is my blood what adds fuel to your fear? Does my very presence make the hairs stand up at the back of your neck? You should be scared-”

With a groan you quickly cover Orm’s mouth with your hand, ignoring how your hands over his lips makes your breathing quicken.

“Shut up and let me explain, will you?”

Your fire is hard for Orm to ignore as well as the closeness of your face to his when you end his tirade. However, you quickly step back from him to speak, the both of you letting out breaths you didn’t know you were holding.

“Firstly, do not call me ‘human.’ You know my name and use of anything else is degrading.”

The way you huff up at him makes Orm’s scowl soften slightly, your pinched features and smaller stature making a lethally adorable combination.

“And second, I am not ‘disgusted’ by you - you’re just a person and there’s nothing about you that could disgust me-”

“Your actions say otherwise-”

“Let me finish, Jesus. You and Arthur are related.”

You fiddle with the edges of your sleeves as you try to collect your thoughts to accurately depict how you feel to the perplexed prince.

“I…The reason I keep my distance - why I try to avoid contact with you like that - I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

A brief silence passes over the two of you, Orm’s furrowed brows willing you to continue.

“All you’ve known of surface dwellers is how we’ve polluted your oceans, taken your resources, and overall contributed to the worsening of your living state. I…I didn’t want to touch you in case it made you feel weird or something. You already have to live in close quarters with me, I didn’t wanna make you even more suffocated.”

It was Orm’s turn to be shocked. His mouth slightly falls agape when you finish speaking, his face relaxing when he realizes the reason for your hesitance. You weren’t disgusted with him - in fact it was the total opposite. You had such an immense respect for his possible boundaries that you had been hyper aware of your own actions to maintain them. Your thoughtfulness knew no bounds, that much was becoming clear to him.

“I-” Orm starts, a notably softer tone than before, “-I don’t feel uncomfortable with you. I would hardly name what respite you have provided me as ‘suffocating’.”

Your brows tilt up, pupils widening at his words.

“Oh. Okay…that’s good then.”

You would admit that your reply was quite lame, but those were all the words you could muster when face-to-face with Orm’s kind eyes.

“I didn’t realize my actions were so obvious. I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t like you or anything-”

“It’s fine. It had only become evident to me when I saw how you interact with others.”

“How so?”

Did you truly not know how affectionate you were to the people in your life - to the people that came around you? How your demeanor unconsciously encouraged anyone within your vicinity to melt into your warmth. It was hard for Orm to believe you were unaware of the affect you had on people.

“You are…very touchy with those around you. With the Sampsons in your store-”

“Well, they’re practically family-

“With that elderly woman from the market-”

“She seemed so frail, I wanted to just be of assistance-”

“My point still stands. You are so forward with your kindness - with your affection. It was easy to notice the difference in the way you are around me.”

“I really didn’t mean to offend you, I just didn’t wanna overstep-”

“You couldn’t overstep.”

Orm’s words stun you into a silence, your heart beating at a faster rate after the Atlantean prince had essentially given you permission to touch him. Did he want you to touch him? Clearly he was bred to be perceptive - an observer as well as a leader - so it was no surprise that he could sense your hesitance to be close to him. However, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was something he was thinking about - overthinking about, even.

“I - Well…does it bother you? Me not touching you - does that bother you?”

Orm coughs to himself, fiddling with the buckle of his belt in a slightly nervous manner you had never seen him display before.

“Bother is a strong word. Though I did feel somewhat slighted.”

You laugh to yourself in the way that Orm likes, the one where your gaze diverts from his and your head lolls back. It gives him a view of the length of your neck, an elegant shape that his eyes can’t help but be drawn to.

“We can fix that now if you like?”

Even with his noble ability to breathe on land, Orm almost chokes at your words.

“Not in a weird way!” Your hands wave in front of him, trying to backtrack from how suggestive you may have sounded. “Like, we can do small things to break the ice, y’know, so we don’t have to tiptoe around each other anymore.

“...what do you suggest?”

With a soft sigh, your hand comes up, palm open with wiggling fingers. The hopeful smile you shoot him occupies a space in his chest - filling him with something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“We can hold hands for a bit, kinda like a trust exercise! Up to you how long or when, but maybe breaking the physical touch boundary will make things less awkward?”

Your hand never drops as you rest against the counter, not moving from your place as you continue to look up at Orm with your sparkling eyes. The prince’s mind went haywire. If Orm wasn’t convinced earlier that you honestly weren’t disgusted by him, he was definitely sure now. All you needed was his permission, and now - in a fashion true to your nature - you were welcoming him to bask in your warm affections.

The blond was frozen in his place, a measly two paces separating you yet it felt like miles. Your eyes searched his face, his expression devoid of any emotion but his mind running laughably rampant, as you waited patiently for him to close the gap. Even now with his consent, you still waited for him to be ready - waited for him to come to you.

He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding, taking a cautionary step forward towards your outstretched hand. Your fingers wriggled slightly in anticipation, a goofy smile on your face as you waited for him to cross the intangible bridge leading to you. Orm’s eyes never left your hand, his pulse racing as he closed more distance between you - this was what he asked for, so he had no right to be scared now.

When his large hand finally takes yours, your shoulders visibly relax and your smile widens. You couldn’t fully place what you were feeling and why, but all you knew was that it felt nice.

“Okay! That’s not so bad, huh?”

All Orm can do now is laugh - laugh at your casual demeanor and laugh at himself for his hammering chest. Truly, he shouldn’t have been surprised by how welcoming you were to hearing his qualms and quickly attending to them. You have consistently been a good, honest, and lovely host to him even when he gave you little in return. However, he was surprised by how much your kind nature had extended to him knowing how much suffering he had brought to your town for some time.

“No. Not bad.” Orm responds gruffly.

Your eyes crinkle as you laugh up at him, squeezing at his palm.

“Okay, I think we’ve stood through the exercise for long enou-”

Orm’s grip on your hand tightens as he makes another step towards you.

“No.”

You blink up at him in confusion.

“No?”

Orm coughs again.

“No, I…I’m not finished with the exercise.”

Your cheeks grow impossibly warm, making you swear at yourself for your obvious bashfulness.

“Oh. Well, okay then. We can do it for as long as you like.”

And here you were again, being as understanding as ever of Orm’s needs. Orm had assumed humans were quite simple - easy to understand due to their lack of brain capacity and advancement in comparison to Atlanteans. However, watching how different you were in your shop - witnessing you change from the selectively quiet, sarcastic little thing you were at home to a vivacious, charming young woman there - it had confused him greatly. Even now, you were extending so much of your kindness towards him when there was nothing for you to gain in the end. His father had told him many stories of the treacheries of humankind, but the one point he drilled relentlessly into his head was that humans were simple, dull creatures undeserving of their people’s knowledge. Why did he seem so wrong now?

Other sea clans felt that when the time came to reveal themselves to the surface that it would only be to educate them - his father had other ideas. The infamous King Orvax wished to utilize the wrath of the seas in order to overpower the surface world, his son at his side as they rebuilt the world in their image. His teachings were the foundation of Orm’s belief system for the majority of his life, yet you had managed to topple those mind palaces within a matter of weeks. You, with your soft knits and quick wit, had the Atlantean prince questioning whether his father had simply been misinformed. His father couldn’t have possibly known how complex humans could truly be because he never met you.

“I would like that. I want to stay like this for a while. For as long as you'll have me."

Orm whispers, almost like a prayer meant for just the two of you.

“Sure. We can stay like this. Let’s stay like this.”

Your smaller hand squeezes his, a miniscule action that was stirring tidal waves in Orm’s gut. The reassurance of your presence was all he needed, so for the first time in forever Orm lets himself stand still in the moment, no thoughts of the future or of the throne. Just you and him in your tiny kitchen.

A/N: I know, months of procrastinating and the main build up is for them to HOLD HANDS. Sue me, I love a slow burn.

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writings-of-a-demigod · 4 months ago

Text

“WOOHOO! IT’S NEW YEAR EVE! Everybody is invited to my party!”

You shouted as soon as you walked into the S.W.A.T headquarter with your arms held open, and a big goofy smile on your face.

Hondo was talking to Deacon when you walked in with your announcement and the red bull you were holding in your hand.

“How many of those did you drink?” Deacon asked you.

Your smile never wavers “I drank like two so I’m still on the safe side.”

Hondo raised his eyebrow “Just the two? What about this party?”

“Yeah man just those two” I walked as they walked with me “Tonight my bar is gonna be packed so it’s a party”

They were thinking about it, just then Rocker, Tan and Street came to where I got my iPad ready for the day.

“What’s this I hear about a party?” Rocker asked.

“Didn’t know you were the kind to throw a party for new year” Tan comment.

I smiled at them “Well I’m throwing a party at my bar so everyone is welcomed.” I look at Tan “That’s because we don’t know each other that well Tan my boy”

Street chuckled “Yeah Tan you shouldn’t miss this one, their parties goes crazy.”

I give them a look “See you’re definitely gonna miss out if you don’t show up”

| Later that day |

“You idiots came!!” You smiled waving as many of swat officers came through the doors of your bar.

Hondo, Deacon and Annie came smiling at the mood you’re in, as you made your way to them. “I thought you’re not gonna show up” You gave them all drinks.

Luca, Street, Tan and Chris were already there drinking and talking having fun.

Hondo spoke first “Honestly I was about to pass but couldn’t after the video you sent me.”

You looked at him confused “Which video?”

He pulled the video you sent of you showing the beers on the bar “These are yours Hondo if you came here tonight.” Then the camera faced you a little drunk “I mean if you’re not gonna show up they will be mine” you were gonna carry three beers in the other hand while still filming yourself, one of them fell and broke “Oh damn, well one down two to go”

You were watching the video then burst into laughter “Wow I’m hilarious”

Deacon and Hondo laughed at that “Yeah pretty funny”

As the night continued you guys kept drinking and laughing until the countdown to midnight.

*Gif not mine*

A/n: Happy New Year my angels I hope you enjoy every moment of it.

#writings-of-a-demigod #swat imagines #swat #jim street x reader #hondo x reader #deacon kay x reader #tan x reader #jim street imagine #hondo imagines #deacon imagines #victor tan imagines #chris alonso x reader #chris alonso imagines

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writings-of-a-demigod · 4 months ago

Text

I haven't watched this show yet but this man is 😍 and I enjoyed reading this thank you for writing it

Harsh Words

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 8,707

Warnings - angst, fluff, running away, Tim is a bit of an ass, mentions of getting hurt, swearing, brief mention of guns, inaccurate police scenes, mentions of verbal abuse/threats, Kojo is once again the best boy

Summary - in a bad mood, Tim snaps at you, prompting you to run away and sending everyone into a panic

A/N - hey y'all it's once again time for a new request! this was sent in by @callsigns-haze so I hope I did your idea justice! I really enjoyed writing this fic (it's me I love angst what did you expect)? but I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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Tim had been through the wringer. He was convinced that no one else he knew had it as bad as he did right now. He’d broken up with Lucy and been kicked out of Metro. Just when Tim had thought life was finally going well for him, the rug got pulled out from underneath him and he felt like he was at rock bottom with no way to pull himself back up.

You, however, were completely ignorant of Tim’s foul mood and were cooking dinner for the both of you at home. You knew Tim had been working longer and later hours since he started working with Metro so you’d been taking it upon yourself to start cooking dinners most nights so that Tim had something to eat whenever he got home or could take any leftovers to work for lunch. You perked up slightly when you heard the door open but hearing the way it slammed afterwards made you flinch slightly, reminding you of the children's home you had spent years of your life in.

“Hey.” You say softly as Tim enters the kitchen, smiling shyly. Your gaze flicks over to Tim before focusing back on the meal you are cooking.

“Hey,” Tim replies gruffly, barely acknowledging you and only briefly petting Kojo who approaches him happily.

“Was work busy today?” You ask innocently, trying to keep the mood light. You didn’t know what it was that was bothering Tim but you had instantly picked up on his off mood that had been hanging over him for the past few days.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tim grumbles, poking around in the fridge and various cupboards for stuff to eat.

“I’m making dinner. Do you want any? It’s almost done.” You offer, noticing Tim scavenging as if he wasn’t aware of the food you were cooking.

“No,” Tim says, taking you aback slightly at the sharpness of his tone.

“I’ll box up whatever’s left and you can have it for lunch or something if you want.” You say, beginning to plate up some food for yourself while Kojo whines at Tim's lack of attention, attempting to get in front of him to get the attention he usually gets from him.

“Kojo, get out of the way.” Tim scowls, using his foot to carefully move Kojo out of the way. He didn’t intend to hurt Kojo, but the dog’s persistence was beginning to get on his nerves.

“Is everything okay? Is something bothering you?” You ask innocently, worried about Tim with the way he was acting with everything around him.

“It’s none of your business. Don’t stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong. I can’t get a moment’s peace around here.” Tim snaps, eyes full of anger as he glares over at you, your eyes wide and lips parted slightly in shock. Tim had never spoken to you in such a way before and all it could do was remind you of the way people would talk to you in the children's home you were in. As the words replayed in your head and the smell of the dinner you cooked wafted under your nose, you felt your stomach turn, your appetite suddenly gone.

With your appetite now non-existent. You decided to quickly pack all the food you had cooked away, store it away for later and then clean up after yourself. You petted Kojo on your way out of the kitchen, feeling sorry for him after the way Tim had dismissed him and he followed you as you made your way to your room with Kojo hot on your heels, not wanting to face Tim. Who after you left the kitchen, had made his way to the living room. As you sat in your room, you thought more and more about the way Tim had talked to you, you began to feel more and more unsafe in what you had previously thought was the safest place in the world for you. As the unsettled feeling begins to seep in, you decide you need to just get out of the house as soon as possible so you grab your school bag and a duffle bag, scooping things into them before turning to Kojo who whines and lays his head in between his paws, seemingly sensing your intentions.

“I’m sorry, buddy.” You apologise to Kojo, petting him as you crouch down at his level. You wished you could take Kojo with you but you knew it wouldn’t be fair to Kojo to be dragged along with you. You knew Tim wasn’t upset with Kojo like he was with you. After zipping up the bags, you sling one over each shoulder and make your way to the kitchen to grab some food and put it in your bag before hearing the tv in the living room and making your way there with Kojo following behind you like a shadow.

“Hey, Tim. I’m going to Juliet’s house. We’ve got a project we need to work on and she invited me over.” You say quietly, trying not to distract Tim too much when you realise he was watching a football game. In his foul mood, Tim hadn’t even noticed that you had elected to call him by his name instead of calling him ‘Dad’ like you had grown accustomed to.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Tim mumbles, his eyes remaining fixed on the game and barely giving you a second of attention. At his dismissive tone, you nod and turn to head out of the house, apologising quietly to Kojo once more before exiting the house, and closing the door behind you. After you left, Kojo whined loudly, pawing at the door and pacing in front of it anxiously.

“Kojo shut it!” Tim scolds Kojo from the living room, making Kojo let out a longer defiant whine while lying down in front of the door watching carefully as if you would come back in if he waited long enough.

Meanwhile, you were making your way to the nearest bus stop, putting your headphones on as you blink back tears. You wait patiently for the bus to arrive and you climb on, pay for your ticket and take a seat at the back of the bus, curling into yourself and allowing your built-up tears to fall down your cheeks as the bus begins to pull away from the stop. You watch the world go by as you listen to music and as the bus drives past the bus stop closest to Juliet’s house, you pull your phone out of your hoodie pocket and hide your location from Tim as well as shutting your phone off completely. You knew it would’ve been wiser to have left your phone behind at the house but you liked the security of having it just in case something happened, even if you wanted nothing to do with Tim right now.

You rode the bus until the end of its route, getting off at the last stop and making your way along the familiar paths you used to take when things got too much for you at the children’s home. You follow the route that was burned into your memory, silently wishing you had brought Kojo along with you just for company. When the familiar run-down cabin comes into view, you’re reminded of all the times you had sought refuge there on particularly bad nights. The cabin was on the outskirts of the city, somewhere that you knew people wouldn’t think to look if anyone did think to look for you.

Not that anyone ever looked for you when you left.

As you enter the cabin, you’re hit by the chilly, damp air that had been festering in the cabin that had remained untouched for a while now. You make a beeline for the small mattress that lays on the floor, immediately pulling your blanket out of your bag and prepping a sad-looking bedspread. Once you made up some semblance of a bed, you grabbed a container of food you had packed and ate a little bit of the food, trying to save what you could. Once you had eaten, you pulled your hoodie off, bunching it up and turning it into a makeshift pillow before lying on the mattress, tugging the blanket around you tightly. The cabin was not built to keep the cold out and you had regretted not bringing anything warmer. As you curled up, more tears filled your eyes, spilling out from under your eyelids. You couldn’t believe Tim had flipped on you completely and you didn’t know what you had done to get that treatment from him. You also found yourself missing Kojo already. He always curled up with you on the bed and provided you with the companionship you needed in this moment. You continue to cry quietly until your exhaustion begins to get the better of you, making you slip into a restless sleep.

The next morning, Tim wakes up in a slightly better mood than he was last night. He was still annoyed and upset that he was back on patrol instead of working with Metro, but he figured that he should be grateful that he at least still had his job within the LAPD. As Tim gets ready to take Kojo on his morning walk, he finds his dog still lying by the front door, whimpering softly.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s go for a walk.” Tim says, grabbing Kojo’s lead and clipping it onto his collar but Kojo remains in place, refusing to move.

“Kojo, you love your walks why are you acting like this?” Tim grumbles, tugging lightly on the lead to try and entice Kojo to get up. When Kojo remains in place, whining softly at Tim who lets out a strong sigh.

“Kojo, come on,” Tim says through gritted teeth, gently nudging Kojo with his foot and encouraging him up onto his feet and out of the door. Kojo trailed behind Tim dejectedly, clearly not enjoying the walk as much as he usually did. Taking in Kojo’s dampened mood, Tim decided to cut the walk short, heading back home when he had enough of Kojo’s constant tugging to go back home. When he got home, Kojo laid himself by the front door once more, continuing to whine softly.

“What has gotten into you?” Tim wonders out loud, glancing at his dog with a confused expression as he walks past, making his way to his room to shower and get ready to head to Mid-Wilshire. As he finishes getting ready for work, Tim goes to the kitchen to grab himself some coffee before leaving the house, petting Kojo on the way out before trying one last attempt to get Kojo to go and lie down somewhere more comfortable and when he’s met with resistance he gives up and makes his way out to his truck to head to work.

Upon arriving at Mid-Wilshire, Tim heads into the station, and nearly walks straight into Lucy, stopping in his tracks and awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Good morning.” Tim greets her awkwardly with a curt nod, side-stepping around her and making his way to the locker room to get changed into his uniform. He knew things were awkward with Lucy. He had broken her heart by breaking up with her and also shattered his own in the process. He had loved Lucy so much and it wasn’t an easy choice for him in the slightest. He did it to protect her. Tim knew he was too broken to maintain a relationship with her and he knew that Lucy deserved better and she would find better. After changing into his uniform, Tim heads to the rec room ready for morning roll call. Grey soon steps into the room once everyone has gathered and begins the roll call. After everyone is dismissed, Tim is stopped by Grey before he has the chance to leave.

“Bradford. Doctor London is here and she’ll be joining you on a ride along for a psychological evaluation.” He says, already predicting Tim’s reaction before he has even finished his sentence.

“Are you serious?” Tim asks, looking at Grey like he’d grown a second head.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Grey asks, folding his arms across his chest as he raises an eyebrow, seemingly challenging Tim.

“No, sir,” Tim says, backing down and shaking his head.

“I thought I didn’t. This is required to tell us whether you’re fit for duty. Go and get it over with and we’ll take relevant action wherever we need to. You’re also riding with Thorsen today.” Grey says, gesturing towards the door with his head as Tim lets out a weak sigh, nodding his head and making his way out so he can go and talk to Doctor London much to his annoyance.

“Sergeant Bradford,” Aaron says, noticing Tim and waving him over as Tim rolls his eyes, approaching him and who he could only assume was Doctor London.

“You must be Doctor London,” Tim says, stopping in front of the two and eyeing up the woman who nodded nervously.

“I am, yes,” Blair says, offering her hand out for Tim to shake which he does.

“Officer Thorsen, go and grab the war bags. Doctor London, you can follow me to our shop.” Tim says, already wanting to get the day over and done with.

“You’re already very dismissive of this evaluation,” Blair notes, watching as Tim rolls his eyes.

“I don’t need this but I’m tolerating it for the sake of my career,” Tim says, glancing over at Blair and folding his arms across his chest, a protective gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Blair.

“I got the war bags,” Aaron announces, entering with the two large bags and shotguns, smiling oblivious to the tension between Blair and Tim.

“Good. Put them in the trunk.” Tim says, already beginning to open the door and getting behind the wheel while Aaron puts the bags away before getting into the passenger seat while Blair gets into the back seat.

By the time it had gotten to their lunch break, Tim was fed up with Blair and her attempts at delving into his psyche. They headed back to the station to head out to where the food trucks were so they could grab something to eat. As they get food, Tim notices Angela sitting eating and crosses to sit with her.

“If I hear one more theory about why I act the way I do I’ll actually go mad and need psychiatric help,” Tim says as he plants himself in the seat opposite Angela, noticing the slight laugh that escaped her.

“I’d pay to see that.” Angela jokes, continuing to eat as Tim rolls his eyes.

“Glad you take joy in my misery,” Tim grumbles, aggressively stabbing his fork into his food as Angela’s eyes widen slightly in shock at the aggression.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to poke at you. I know things are pretty rough right now.” Angela apologises, feeling bad about teasing Tim in a vulnerable time for him.

“It’s okay,” Tim says quietly, offering Angela a soft smile to try and reassure her that everything is okay.

“So, how’s y/n doing?” Angela asks, lifting her drink to her lips and taking a sip as Tim’s eyebrows furrow slightly.

“What?” He asks, confused by the question at first.

“y/n? How is she doing?” Angela repeats, growing concerned by Tim’s reaction as the gears begin to turn in her head.

“Oh, I think she said she was going to a friend’s last night. Something like that.” Tim shrugs and continues to eat his food as Angela processes what he said and frowns.

“What did you do?” Angela asks, making Tim look at her, shocked.

“What? Why do you think I did something?” He says, anger seeping into his tone in his defensiveness but Angela wasn’t one to back down against Tim.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Angela says, enunciating each word as she leans forward slightly in challenge to Tim. The two share a silent staring contest for a moment before Tim lets out a huff and leans back against his chair.

“She just went to a friend's house. I think she said something about a school project.” Tim reiterates watching as Angela sighs in frustration.

“Tim. Can you confirm she’s there? It’s not like you to use the phrase ‘I think’ when it comes to y/n. Usually, you know where she is every second of every day.” Angela says, confused by Tim’s nonchalant attitude towards your wellbeing.

“Fine. If it makes you feel better. I’ll pull up her location now.” Tim says exasperatedly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening the tracking app in his phone. As it opened, his eyebrows furrowed, and he flicked between looking at the map and the data bars in the corner.

“What’s wrong?” Angela asks, concerned by Tim’s reaction.

“Just give me a second.” Tim starts, refreshing the page and beginning to panic a little when your location doesn’t show up.

“Tim. What’s wrong?” Angela asks. Once again, Tim doesn’t give an answer, closing the app and opening his contacts, scrolling through the various phone numbers as he fights to recall which friend you had said you were spending the night at.

“Her phone must’ve died. I’ll call her friend’s mom.” Tim mutters, barely audible to Angela but she hears regardless and watches anxiously as Tim calls the number and lifts the phone to his ear, listening to each ring with bated breath.

“Hey, Tim.” Juliet’s mother, Eve greets as she picks up the phone.

“Hey, Eve. I just wanted to call and check on y/n. I think her phone must be dead or something because-”

“Sorry, hold on a second. y/n? She’s not here Tim.” Eve says, cutting Tim off.

“No, she told me last night that she and Juliet have a school project or something they needed to do.” Tim insists, wondering why Eve was telling him otherwise.

“Hold on, let me just grab Juliet and see if she’s spoken to y/n. But I promise you she’s not at our house, Tim.” Eve says hurriedly and Tim then hears her calling for Juliet to come to her so they can talk.

“Hey, Mom. What do you need?” Tim hears Juliet ask as she enters the room.

“Sweetie, have you heard anything from y/n today?” Eve asks, and all Tim can focus on at the moment is the silence that falls over the phone.

“No, we haven’t talked since we left school yesterday. Why, is everything okay?” Juliet says, worry seeping into her voice as the question her mother asked her begins to settle in her mind and alert her to the fact that something could be wrong.

“Tim…” Eve mutters into the phone, noticing the dead silence on the other end of the line.

“I have to go. Let me know if you hear anything from her.” Tim says quickly and apologetically before hanging up the call and looking at Angela who had watched the entire call with a worried expression.

“What happened?” Angela asks, concerned as Tim shoves his phone in his pocket.

“y/n didn’t go to her friend’s house last night and she hasn’t heard from her since they left school yesterday,” Tim says, already bracing himself for an angry rant from Angela but instead she grabs all her stuff and gets to her feet.

“Come on. We’re talking to Grey and we’re getting search parties going.” Angela says, gesturing for Tim to get up and follow her which he does, hurriedly grabbing his trash so he could throw it out before heading into the station with Angela who marches straight into Grey’s office.

“Sergeant Grey, we need to organise some search parties. y/n has gone missing.” Angela says, giving Grey no time to even ask why the two had barged into his office unannounced.

“What do you mean she’s gone missing?” Grey asks, concern creeping across his face when he registers what it is that has just been said to him.

“She left the house last night claiming she was going to a friend’s house but when I called her friend’s mom she told me that y/n never came over and that she and her friend hadn’t spoken since they left school yesterday,” Tim explains, once again trying the phone tracking app and fighting the urge to chuck his phone across the room when it once again comes up with no location.

“Did anything prompt this or do you think she was taken?” Grey asks, wanting to make sure he has all the facts straight before they start doing anything and Tim feels all eyes on him.

“I was an idiot. I was so upset about everything that happened with Metro and Lucy and I took it out on y/n. It’s my fault she’s gone.” Tim says, explaining what happened as the realisation sets in.

“We’ll find her. Do you know any places she’d go to other than her friend's houses?” Angela asks, approaching Tim and resting a hand on his shoulder to quietly reassure him.

“She never mentioned anywhere. She’d always come home if she felt unsafe or anything. Shit.” Tim starts, suddenly realising the weight of his actions and swearing quietly.

“What is it?” Grey asks.

“I made the one place she felt safe feel so unsafe that she left. I have no idea where she could’ve gone. She could get hurt or worse.” Tim says, the anxiety evident in his voice as he begins to pace nervously.

“Tim. Calm down. Look we’ll get officers looking for her. Here, send me a clear picture of y/n and we’ll send it to everyone patrolling so they know who they’re looking for.” Angela says, standing in front of Tim to stop his pacing. At Angela’s words, Tim nods, fumbling with his phone, his shaking hands fighting to remain steady as he finds a picture of you that would help officers recognise you if they saw you. Tim sends the picture to Angela who then forwards it to the appropriate people.

“Let’s get out on the streets and look for her. We’ll find her.” Grey says with a nod, getting up from his desk and gesturing for Tim and Angela to get out and start looking. But before Tim heads out to grab Aaron, he opens his texts and sends you a message, hoping by some miracle you’ll see it.

��Hey, kid. Where are you?’

‘I promise I’m not mad or upset. I’m worried about you. You can come home.’

Across LA, you were still hiding away in the cabin that had been home to you on those rough nights. As you sat on the mattress, you felt tears welling in your eyes as you thought about the night before. It reminded you of the one other time you had been fostered and how you had been so badly treated that you hid away in this cabin until you decided that going back to Stan’s children’s home was a better option. You remember the harsh words they had thrown in your direction, how nowhere was safe for you. You had never had a home before until you met Tim. Tim had taken you in and given you a safe place to call home. You had an adorable dog who you loved most in the whole world. But you were scared to go back. You knew you wouldn’t be welcome. You knew Tim probably wanted nothing to do with you after all your pestering. You couldn’t blame him if he wanted rid of you. You should’ve known he would get fed up with you and want you gone.

After a few minutes of sitting on the mattress and feeling sorry for yourself, you then decide to dig through your bag and find your wallet, looking at all the money you have and counting it quickly. You knew you couldn’t use your card to make any payments because the LAPD would clock it almost immediately and be able to track you down before you even had a chance to realise your mistake. After counting your money, you figure you have enough to buy more food if you need to and you have enough to get a bus out of LA. You weren’t quite ready to hop a bus and leave LA but you wanted to make sure you had the money in case you wanted to leave. You wanted to at the very least give yourself a day or two to really think about whether it was worth staying in LA or not. As you feel your stomach rumble slightly, you dig in your bag for some snacks to tide you over. You hadn’t brought a lot of food with you so you needed to make sure it lasted as long as possible. As you eat, you feel a surge of emotion rush over you and you put the food down, burying your face in your knees and sobbing into them.

You had never felt so alone and unwanted in your life.

Unbeknownst to you, Mid-Wilshire was in panic mode with the news that you were missing and everyone was looking for you. They had no idea where you could be so their plan was to cover as much ground as possible and hope they found you quickly.

“Tim, where are we going?” Aaron asks, questioning where Tim is driving to as they begin their search. Tim doesn’t reply, instead just stops outside his house and jumps out, heading into the house before Aaron even has a chance to process what was going on. As Tim unlocks the door and enters the house, he notices that Kojo is still in the place he was when Tim left in the morning.

“Oh, Kojo… I’m sorry, buddy.” Tim apologises, crouching down to pet his beloved dog, realising that Kojo was acting up because he knew something was up with you.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are we just making a pit stop so you can pet your dog?” Aaron asks, appearing in the doorway and looking at Tim, confused.

“Are you-? no! There might be some clues as to where she is.” Tim says, straightening up and heading to your room. The movement somehow encourages Kojo to follow him. Aaron also takes the initiative to follow Tim and when they enter your room he elects to stay put, not touching a thing while Tim looks through your desk drawers, leafing through old school work for any sign that could point him towards your location. As Tim looks around, Kojo hops up on your bed, whining as he lies down and studies Tim’s movements carefully.

“She’s taken clothes, her wallet, basically everything someone needs if they’re trying to run away,” Tim says, his voice growing angrier with each word said. None of his anger was directed towards you, but rather at himself for pushing you to run away.

“Okay, so we know she intentionally left. Our next port of call would be to check bus stations right? If she wanted to get far she’d need to get a bus or an Uber or something.” Aaron points out, snapping Tim from his panicked state and grounding him enough to realise that Aaron was making a good point.

“You’re right. Call that in. Get people checking bus station cameras, whatever they can.” Tim says, making Aaron nod and step out of the room to radio about checking buses. As Aaron steps out of the room, Tim pets Kojo once more, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“You knew something was up with y/n, huh? You knew and I brushed you and her aside. I’m so sorry, buddy.” Tim apologises quietly, feeling guilty that he couldn’t open his eyes for more than a second the night before long enough to realise your intentions when you left the house. He wished he could go back in time and not have raised his voice at you. He took his anger out on you and you didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. Sensing Tim’s mood, Kojo shifted and rested his head on Tim’s lap offering a wordless comfort that Tim appreciated, but didn’t feel deserving of.

“Hey, I’ve called it in. We should head to the nearest bus station and check their CCTV and talk to any bus drivers if we can.” Aaron says, appearing in the doorway again.

“Yeah, just give me a second. You can go and wait out by the shop.” Tim says with a nod, waiting for Aaron to leave the room before he gently shifts Kojo off his lap.

“I’ll be back. Hopefully with y/n.” Tim whispers softly to the dog, petting him one last time before leaving the room and heading out to where Aaron is waiting outside.

“Come on, let’s go,” Aaron says, already beginning to get into the vehicle before Tim has even had a chance to lock the front door.

“I’m coming.” Tim says, locking the door quickly and hurrying to the shop and getting behind the drivers seat, starting the engine and beginning the drive to the bus station he knew was closest to his house.

When they arrive at the bus station, they were both quickly aware of the stares they were getting as they enter the station and making their way to the ticket booth to speak to the employee.

“Hello, officers. Can I help you?” The employee asks, glancing between the two of them and Tim could see the slight fear in their face as they spoke.

“I’m Officer Bradford, this is Officer Thorsen. We just have a few questions about something, is there someone we could speak to, and who could allow us to look through some security footage?” Tim asks, watching as the employee grows more nervous.

“Yes, I’ll grab my manager. Give me a minute.” They say quickly, scurrying off to go and find someone who could help them. As they wait, Tim looks at the various boards they have displayed in the station, showing the various buses and where they go to. As his eyes scan the board, he feels more fear swirling in his stomach making him feel nauseous as he reads city names he knew were far away. He had no clue if you had hopped a bus going to a different city or a different state and that thought alone terrified him.

“Officers? I’m James, the manager. We can head back to my office.” Tim and Aaron turn around to come face to face with the manager and they nod in tandem, following James back to his office.

“Thank you for meeting with us,” Aaron says gratefully as they enter the small office, all three men sitting on the available chairs in the office.

“No need to thank me. What brings you here today?” James says, dismissively waving his hand before focusing on the two as Tim digs into his pocket, pulling his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it so he can show James the picture of you.

“Have you seen this girl? If she had come here it would’ve been last night. Probably sometime around eight or nine pm?” Tim asks, showing the photo to James who studies the picture closely, eyes squinting slightly as he takes note of every detail.

“It’s hard to say for sure. I mean we get so many people coming in and out of here I’m sure you can understand that it’s hard to confirm that. I was mostly working back here last night but we can check the security cameras? They’re not the best quality but it’s worth checking.” James says, frowning slightly and letting out a slightly irritated huff at himself when he doesn’t recognise you in the photo.

“It’s worth a look,” Aaron says, nodding as James motions for the two to come around his desk so they can look at his screen and what the security cameras had captured the night before.

“This is the camera angled at the ticket booth, assuming she bought a ticket here rather than online.” James muses, eyes scanning the various people appearing on the screen.

“I can’t see her. Shit.” Tim sighs, bowing his head in shame when skimming through the footage shows him nothing of use.

“Okay, we clearly need to look elsewhere. James, if it’s okay with you I’m going to put you in contact with someone who will want you to send over the footage so they can do a more thorough check. But thank you for being so cooperative.” Aaron says, digging in his pocket for his card, scribbling a contact down and handing the card to James before he and Tim head out of the office. Tim rushes by Aaron, getting into their shop as quickly as possible and the second he is in his seat he pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts you again.

‘y/n, please come home.’

‘Or tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you. It doesn’t matter where.’

‘If you don’t want to see me, that’s fine too. I can send someone else to get you instead.’

‘I’m just really worried about you. Please let me know you’re okay.’

Tim types and sends multiple messages, his mind reeling with worst-case scenarios about what could happen to you. While he knew you left the house intentionally to run away, he also knew that you could get hurt or worse and he’d have no idea where you were.

“Maybe we should head back to the station. See if anyone has found anything.” Aaron offers as he gets in the passenger seat and Tim’s head snaps to look at him, a furious look on his face.

“You’re telling me you want me to give up looking for my kid?” Tim asks, the anger evident in his voice as he glares at Aaron who almost shrinks back in his seat under the intensity of the glare.

“I’m not saying that. But someone might have some information so it’s worth checking at the station.” Aaron says, holding his hands up defensively and trying to calm the tension.

“Plus, you probably need a break. You’re stressing out and it won’t help you or y/n if you’re running yourself ragged right out of the gate.” He continues, watching as Tim lets out an irritated huff sitting back in the seat and moving to grab the wheel.

“Fine, but if anything comes in while we’re on our way back we’re going there,” Tim says, starting the engine and beginning the drive to the station. On their way back, no calls came in so they arrived at the station disappointed. Tim makes his way to the break room, grabbing some snacks and pouring himself a coffee, while his back is turned, he hears the door open and glances over his shoulder to see Lucy entering.

“I heard about y/n. I’m so sorry.” Lucy starts quietly, while Tim shakes his head, knowing he is unworthy of any sympathy from her. When Tim remains silent, Lucy takes a small step closer, making Tim turn to face her properly.

“I still may be mad at you for what’s happened but y/n isn’t a part of that and I feel awful that she’s missing. I’m going to do what I can to find her. I’d never wish for someone’s kid to go missing, no matter how much they upset me.” Lucy says softly as Tim looks away, trying to regain control of his emotions. It was hard enough for him to manage his feelings regarding everything that happened prior to you going missing. Now he not only had the extensive fear of never seeing you again but also the emotions of Lucy showing him any compassion after what he did sent him into a spiral and he didn’t know how to handle any of them.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Tim whispers, furiously blinking in hopes of keeping his tears at bay. In seeing Tim’s broken state Lucy glances over her shoulder, and when she sees no one nearby she steps closer, winding her arms around Tim and hugging him tightly. The embrace takes Tim aback at first, stiffening up at the sudden comfort before he hesitantly wraps his arms around her, ducking his head to rest it on her shoulder.

“Let it be known I’m still upset with you,” Lucy whispers, reiterating herself as she feels Tim nod against her shoulder.

“I know,” Tim replies quietly, knowing he didn’t deserve any kindness from Lucy at this moment but relishes the embrace while it is being held. After a few seconds, Lucy releases Tim from the embrace and looks up at him for a moment. The two held a stare for a brief moment before Lucy cleared her throat and looked away from him.

“I’m going to head out and see if I can find anything. I’ll let you know if I do. Take care of yourself.” Lucy says softly with a nod before backing away and exiting the break room, leaving Tim alone with tears in his eyes.

When Tim’s shift came to an end after a few more hours of searching, he didn’t want to leave and everyone knew it. He tried desperately to get Grey to let him work overtime but Grey shook his head.

“Bradford, you need to go home and rest. You’ll be no good to anyone if you’re dead on your feet. The night shift will keep an eye out for her and listen out for any reports. The moment we find anything out you will be informed.” Grey says sternly, folding his arms across his chest and watching Tim carefully as he sighs.

“Fine.” Tim concedes, barely listening to Grey’s goodbye as he makes his way out to the locker room to get changed and head home. As Tim leaves the locker room, he is painfully aware of the pitiful gazes the other officers are giving him. He knew most of them had probably recognised who you were from the picture.

But Tim didn’t want their pity. He wanted to find you.

When he got home, Tim was positively miserable. He opened the door and couldn’t help but frown when he saw Kojo lying in the hallway, feeling even more guilty when Kojo approached him, sniffing at him before whining softly.

“I’m sorry,” Tim whispers, reaching down to pet Kojo gently. After discarding his bag on the floor, Tim makes his way to the living room, collapsing on the sofa and burying his head in his hands as he sighs loudly. Tim felt awful about this whole situation. It was his fault you were gone. When he lifts his head, he decides to check his phone and see if you’ve replied. Instead, he just sees his messages and no proof you had read the messages.

That night, Tim could barely sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, aware of Kojo’s irritated huffs as Tim rolled over for the hundredth time. All he could see when he closed his eyes were images of you getting hurt. Every time he thought he was getting close to sleep he thought of a new scenario and he was wide awake in seconds a continuous loop that played out over the entire night.

When the next day of searching yielded no results, Tim was fully panicking going into the second full day of searching. He knew if more days passed without finding you, there’d be an even lesser chance of finding you. Everyone was walking on eggshells around Tim, he was more irritable, and he’d snap at anyone who asked him a question that neared too close to the topic of you. There was still no evidence that you were in LA yet there was no evidence you had left either. It was like you disappeared off the face of the earth entirely. When Tim left the house on the morning of the second full day of searching, he was hoping today would be the day someone would find you.

In your secluded cabin, you were running low on food so you had to make a choice. You needed to decide whether you would go into the city to buy food, or not risk it and just get out of the city entirely. When your stomach growled louder, you figured it would be best to go and grab some food from the nearest store you could find and then you could head back to the cabin and pack up to be ready to head to the nearest bus station to get out of LA.

After all, you were certain no one was looking for you.

You head out of the cabin, tugging on a hoodie as you leave and make your way down to the nearest corner store. You browse up and down the aisles, looking for various snacks that could last you a long journey and that weren’t too expensive so you could afford a ticket to whichever place looks most appealing to you when you get to the bus station. You end up grabbing a few of your favourite things that you knew would last you a long journey before you could buy more food. Once you’ve picked what you want, you approach the counter, smiling at the employee who scans your items and then gives you your total. You dig out the appropriate cash and hand it to the employee, thanking her as she hands you your items in a bag. As you leave the store, the employee grabs the phone by the register, immediately dialling the police.

Lucy was the first officer on the scene after the employee called in a sighting of you and was now currently standing in front of the employee, getting all the information she could.

“She came in and bought some food. Just snacks, chips, water, stuff like that.” The employee, named Molly explains, fiddling with her fingers.

“Did you see which way she went once she left?” Lucy asks, getting ready to make notes.

“Yeah, she exited and went that way,” Molly says, walking to the door and pointing in the direction you had walked.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Lucy says quickly, wanting to search the area as quickly as possible. She knew the LAPD hadn’t thought to look this far since most thought you’d be in the centre of the city or gone entirely. She and the other officers decided to spread out and search the area, making sure to instruct everyone to not tell Tim unless there was good news.

As Lucy patrols the area, searching for places you could potentially be hiding. She finds her gaze drifting to the woodland area just on the outskirts of the area. Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied the area, thinking of all the potential places you could be hiding in there.

“Hey, I’m going to check over there,” Lucy calls over to a nearby officer, pointing out where she’d be heading before beginning the short trek up to the area. She walks around, keeping an eye out for anything that could be a place for you to hide, one hand on her gun holster just in case she needs it. After about half an hour of searching, Lucy stumbles across a cabin and she figures it is the perfect place for someone to hide out if they don’t want to be found so she approaches the door, pounding on it and calling out.

“y/n, are you in there?”

“Lucy?” You whisper, barely audible as you stop shoving things into your bag. You debate remaining silent and hoping that Lucy doesn’t come in but after hearing Lucy’s voice, you realise how much you missed being around everyone. How much you missed your home. How much you missed Kojo. How much you missed Tim. Before you can get up and open the door, Lucy does it for you, entering and stopping in the doorway when she notices you.

“y/n…” Lucy starts, beginning to cross to you carefully, stopping just in front of you and crouching down to be at your level.

“Hey, Lucy.” You say weakly, attempting a small smile.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding out the last couple of days, huh?” She muses lightly, looking around the small cabin as you nod.

“I used to come here a lot when things were rough before.” You say quietly, making Lucy frown slightly.

“Did something happen with you and Tim?” Lucy asks carefully, watching as you nod.

“He seemed off the last few days and when he came home… I don’t know maybe I annoyed him but he snapped. It reminded me of bad times and I just wanted to get out of there.” You admit quietly, tears springing to your eyes.

“Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sure Tim didn’t mean to snap at you. I know he cares for you.” Lucy says softly, willing to put her own anger and upset towards Tim aside to mend your relationship with him.

“I know. But it really hurt at the time.” You say, sniffling slightly to try and keep your tears at bay.

“I can imagine. I won’t force you to talk to Tim straight away but we can get you back to the station, you can have a shower and change and I’ll get you something proper to eat. Does that sound good?” Lucy offers, smiling gently as you nod.

“That sounds good.” You reply, a single tear slipping down your cheek. At your response, Lucy helps you pack your things away, picking up your bags and escorting you down to her shop so she can get you to the station. Once she gets you inside, she grabs you a spare t-shirt and pair of sweatpants for you to change into as well as handing you a towel so you can shower. Just before you disappear for your shower, Lucy asks you what you’d like to eat so she can order it to arrive by the time you finish your shower. Once you’ve picked what you want, you go for your shower and Lucy steps out of the locker room, opening her texts and messaging Tim.

‘We’ve found y/n. She’s okay, I’ve brought her back to the station.’

The moment Tim receives the message, he perks up, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he finally relaxes. He was desperate to drive back to the station right then and there, but he was in the middle of watching Aaron giving a ticket to a driver they had pulled over for reckless driving. And as much as he wanted to jump in the shop and drive off, he knew he couldn’t leave Aaron behind. Tim waits impatiently for Aaron to finish the exchange, silently willing the exchange to go quicker so he can get back to the station and check on you. When Aaron had finally finished giving the ticket out and sending the driver on their way, Tim was crossing to the shop as quickly as possible.

“Thorsen, come on we need to get going,” Tim says quickly, waving Aaron over.

“What’s up?” Aaron asks as the two get into the shop.

“Lucy found y/n. She’s at the station.” Tim says, already beginning to drive back to the station. Tim was fairly sure he was nearly breaking several road laws on his way back but all he wanted to do was get to the station. When they finally made it back to the station, Tim barely turned the engine off and pulled the keys out before leaping out of the shop and rushing into the building, quickly locating Lucy.

“Where is she?” Tim asks hurriedly, barely able to focus on anything.

“She’s in the break room. Tim, she told me what happened, take it easy on her.” Lucy urges softly, looking up at Tim.

“I will. Thank you for finding her. I owe you big time.” Tim says gratefully, knowing Lucy probably wanted nothing to do with him after this but he wanted to make sure she knew he owed her. After Lucy nodded in acknowledgement, Tim moved around her and made his way to the break room where you were sitting, picking at the food in front of you as you looked up to see Tim.

“Hi…” You whisper quietly, struggling to maintain eye contact with Tim as he softens, crossing to the chair opposite you and sitting in it.

“Hey, kid,” Tim says, studying your expression carefully as you tear up.

“I’m sorry.” You say, wiping at your eyes harshly.

“No, I’m sorry. I took my anger out on you the other night and you didn’t deserve it.” Tim says, stopping you and taking the chance to apologise himself.

“I didn’t tell you about this before but I’ve been fostered once before. I was about seven when it happened but the people were assholes. They constantly shouted at me and threatened me. When you snapped at me it just reminded me of them.” You explain, too afraid to watch Tim’s reaction as you explain yourself.

“y/n. I’m so sorry I reminded you of them. I never wanted to remind you of anything like that. I wanted to provide you with a safe home and I took that away from you.” Tim apologises, feeling guilt sinking in his stomach as he realises how much he hurt you with what he did.

“But I’m sorry for scaring you. I saw your messages just before you got back. I hurt you too.” You apologise, frowning as Tim shakes his head.

“I deserved it. You didn’t.” Tim insists, and while you knew you could bicker back and forth with him about who hurt who more, you were exhausted.

“Can we go home?” You ask, watching as Tim nods, already standing up from his seat and packing your food away so you can eat it at home.

“Of course we can. Come on, I know a certain someone has missed you the most.” Tim says as you pick up your bags following Tim to his truck and getting in so Tim can take you home. The moment Tim parked the truck, you got out and made your way into the house, smiling widely when you saw Kojo who perked up upon seeing you, leaping up from where he was lying on the floor and practically leaping up at you as you crouch to his level, pushing you onto your back and smothering you in kisses.

“I’ve missed you so much, Kojo.” You say, giggling as Kojo continues to lie all over you, whining happily as he continues to lick at your face.

“Kojo, come on buddy, let her breathe,” Tim says with a laugh, his words making Kojo back off slightly, sitting alongside you as you sit up, petting Kojo as he pants happily. When you get up, you decide to put your bags back in your room, putting your clothes and blanket in the washing machine to wash them before heading into the living room and curling up on the sofa while Kojo and Tim join you. Kojo curled up under your arm, snuggling close to you as Tim put the tv on.

“It’s good to have you home, kid,” Tim says softly, smiling over at you as you smile back.

“It’s good to be home.” You admit, petting Kojo as you focus on the tv, the drama of the last few days seemingly a thing of the past.

Being with Tim and Kojo was where you belonged. They were your family and you wouldn’t trade them for anything. You knew Tim had problems when it came to opening up about anything, but you had learnt not to push so hard this time, and maybe one day he’d find someone to open up to about it so he’d feel less alone. But for now, you were just going to enjoy the afternoon with your loved ones. Grateful to be home.

Tim Tags (comment or ask to be added):

@starlightandsouls @whirlwind2005 @callsigns-haze @fore45fore @reignsboy19 @xi1dius @plutotcles @lives-in-midgard @mystical-258 @malindacath

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writings-of-a-demigod · 4 months ago

Note

Happy Birthday!!🎂 Wishing you an amazing day and a year of happiness and success! Thank you for bringing joy to so many people! You are loved!!!✨

Thank you so much for this lovely message 🥹🥹🥹 I LOVE YOU!! 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

#ask #fluentmoviequoter #mutuals my beloved

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writings-of-a-demigod · 4 months ago

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It's my birthday 🎈

My birthday theme was 13 going on 30! yes I am 30 now 🥹

#birthday girl #thirty flirty and thriving

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writings-of-a-demigod · 5 months ago

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Hello 👋, I hope you're doing well..

My name is Mahmoud, and I'm a 17-year-old from Gaza. The ongoing war has devastated my city, destroyed my school, and made daily life incredibly challenging.

Despite these hardships, I'm determined to continue my education and build a better future. I've been given a chance to study abroad, but I need help to cover the costs of leaving Gaza, as well as living expenses and other essentials abroad once the crossing opens.. 🙏

If you can, please consider donating or sharing, your kindness can truly make a difference, and thanks for your time. ❤🍉

https://gofund.me/bd3ccf0b 🔗

Please donate as much as you can, help a soul in need

#ask

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writings-of-a-demigod · 6 months ago

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“Hey, I got you some ice cream”

You heard the voice of Jim Street next to you as he held the ice cream in front of your face making you smile.

“Thanks” you took the ice cream “What’s the occasion?”

“You were complaining how hot it was today, so I thought about getting you ice cream while we took a call.” He explained smiling.

You let out a dramatic gasp with an open mouth “Officer Street are you telling me that while your team was out there chasing a criminal you went to get ice cream?”

He chuckles at you “No, I meant after”

As you were eating the ice cream “Well it’s ice cream I don’t care if some bad guy was running around the city I have the best thing known to man.”

Street knew your love for ice cream so he knows this would make your day, Deacon and Hondo made their way to you as they heard your statement.

“Don’t let Higgs hear you saying that.” Hondo said as he chuckles.

“He would think you would sell the entire LAPD for ice cream if someone bribed you.” Deacon commented.

You looked at him as you ate “Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t do that.”

The man stood there shocked, that’s when you, Street and Hondo burst into laughter. All through the day after every call one of the guys got you something, you got ice cream, iced coffee, smoothie whatever it was it was cold and you were thankful for that. At the end of the day when your shift ended you were in pain as you were making your way out of the building, the guys were in front of you when Luca turned to look at you.

“What’s wrong with you? You don’t look good.” He tells you.

Everyone turned to look at you.

“I think all the things I got today kind of effected my stomach” you tell them “Next time I complain of the heat just throw me in an ice bath okay” you groan.

They laughed at your comment and Luca gave you a pill to help with the stomachache.

A/N: finally wrote something.

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writings-of-a-demigod · 6 months ago

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S.W.A.T:

Imagines:

Being deaf and working with S.W.A.T

Always arguing with Street and Luca finds it funny

Going skiing with Jim Street

Having a sibling relationship with Street

Luca being in with love you and you get hurt

Having a day off after a rough week

Working in a library and Street asks you out on a date

Jim Street bringing you a dog to look after you while he's at work

Telling the team the most random facts at the wrong time

The team getting you every thing iced because you're hot

One shots:

Wrong place, wrong time (Jim Street x wife! reader)

| going into labor while visiting Street at work and being stuck due to a lockdown.

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writings-of-a-demigod · 6 months ago

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Materlist:

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writings-of-a-demigod · 6 months ago

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Hello, Beebz!😊 Thank you for being so amazing and for sharing your writing and adorable scenes! You brighten so many days and I appreciate all of the positivity you spread! You're so incredibly kind and such an amazing person!🤍

🥹🥹🥹 Thank you love you made my day with your kind words ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#ask #mutuals my beloved #i love you 🩵

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writings-of-a-demigod · 6 months ago

Text

“Hey, I got you some ice cream”

You heard the voice of Jim Street next to you as he held the ice cream in front of your face making you smile.

“Thanks” you took the ice cream “What’s the occasion?”

“You were complaining how hot it was today, so I thought about getting you ice cream while we took a call.” He explained smiling.

You let out a dramatic gasp with an open mouth “Officer Street are you telling me that while your team was out there chasing a criminal you went to get ice cream?”

He chuckles at you “No, I meant after”

As you were eating the ice cream “Well it’s ice cream I don’t care if some bad guy was running around the city I have the best thing known to man.”

Street knew your love for ice cream so he knows this would make your day, Deacon and Hondo made their way to you as they heard your statement.

“Don’t let Higgs hear you saying that.” Hondo said as he chuckles.

“He would think you would sell the entire LAPD for ice cream if someone bribed you.” Deacon commented.

You looked at him as you ate “Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t do that.”

“What’s wrong with you? You don’t look good.” He tells you.

Everyone turned to look at you.

“I think all the things I got today kind of effected my stomach” you tell them “Next time I complain of the heat just throw me in an ice bath okay” you groan.

They laughed at your comment and Luca gave you a pill to help with the stomachache.

A/N: finally wrote something.

#writings-of-a-demigod #swat imagines #swat x reader #hondo imagines #deacon imagines #jim street imagine #luca imagines #victor tan imagines #hondo x reader #jim street x reader #deacon kay x reader #luca x reader #tan x reader

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writings-of-a-demigod · 6 months ago

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OOoooh boy overprotectiveness looks good on you Street!

I miss reading, haven't read in a while and this made me happy! Love this one like all the others 😍🥹

They're Not Us

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: You and Jim's team can see that he is jealous and overprotective, but he refuses to admit it. After five clear examples, you set out to make him see what you do. (5+1 fic)

Warnings: fluff, very minor angst, a brief argument, jealousy and protectiveness

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

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

“Street’s here,” Tan announces as he returns to the table.

When he appears, smiling as he removes his jacket to sit, Hondo and Deacon lean to the side to look around Street.

“What?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder.

“Where is she?” Hondo inquires.

“Who?”

“Your girlfriend,” Deacon answers, raising his shoulders like it’s obvious.

“It’s a team night,” Street reminds them. “She’s at home.”

“You left her alone?” Chris questions, her brows raising. “How many times will you call to check in?”

“Makes it sound like I’m overprotective,” Street grumbles as he sits.

“You are,” Hondo, Deacon, Tan, Chris, and Luca reply simultaneously.

“Luca!” Street exclaims.

“You… you get a little jealous sometimes, Streeter,” Luca explains. “It’s not a bad thing, but you are most definitely overprotective.”

“No, I’m not,” Street replies.

Hondo opens his mouth, but Deacon waves to stop him.

“Whatever you say,” Chris mumbles. “What’s everyone ordering?”

Street tries to push the idea of him being jealous and overprotective away to enjoy the time with his teammates. His fingers itch to reach for his phone and check in on you and he briefly wonders if they’re right.

“Street, my neighbor bought a Ducati,” Luca says, drawing Street’s attention from you and his perceived lack of protectiveness.

Throughout the rest of the night, Street forgets what his teammates said and doesn’t notice any sign of the protectiveness they claim to see.

1.) Street gets jealous and protective when he sees you talking to another man.

Street sighs as he enters SWAT HQ. Their raid went well; a drug dealer selling to teenagers is now in custody, and narcotics is investigating the contents of his house. Street feels like there’s more that needs to be done. The kids in the future won’t have to meet this specific monster, but there will be more, and the ones who have already been affected are left to deal with the consequences on their own.

His mood changes immediately, however, when he hears your voice. You laugh down the hall, and Street is drawn to you. He rushes through the station, leaving his helmet by the sparring ring. When he reaches the doorway to the kitchen, he stops.

You’re leaning against the counter and talking to a patrol officer. Street knows you would never do anything to jeopardize your relationship. It’s not you that he worries about at all. Despite his moments of insecurity and the few nightmares he has had where you told him he would never make you happy and left him, Street loves you and wholly believes that you love him just as much and would never cheat on him or leave him as you did in those dreams.

He tells himself that he’s watching the officer instead. Something stirs in Street: a need to ensure that you’re safe, comfortable, and respected.

Hondo extends his arm to stop the rest of the team as they enter the hall. They watch as Street shifts to straighten his spine, his arms flexed as he crosses them across his chest. His attention is locked on something through a doorway, but Hondo is sure he knows who it is.

“What did she say?” you ask the officer standing across from you.

Hondo smiles at his team, and Deacon murmurs, “At least she finds it endearing.”

“Do you think she actually knows? The level of protectiveness, I mean,” Tan inquires.

“She knows,” Luca answers, smiling as Street approaches the door. “He’s the only one that doesn’t see it.”

Street steps back, waits a moment, and then enters the kitchen and says your name. The officer has left, and you’re alone and safe again, so Street’s demeanor is simply that of a surprised boyfriend. You know he was watching, protecting, and letting his mind wander. His protectiveness and the minuscule amount of jealousy he lets himself experience doesn’t bother you, and you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck to hug him and say hello.

2.) Street gets protective when you’re out.

“Is Annie coming?” you ask as Street pulls out your chair for you.

“She is. Deacon said she has some projects she’s been working on that she wants to show you,” Street answers.

He sits beside you but orientates sideways in the chair to face you. You aren't usually the first to arrive at these dinners, but you enjoy the additional time with Street. His fingers brush over your neck as he leans in to kiss you.

“You look beautiful,” Street tells you.

“You do too,” you reply.

“Beautiful? Really?” Street teases.

“I told you from the beginning that you were going to be the pretty one in this relationship, pretty boy.”

“Hey, that’s my nickname,” Hondo interjects as he approaches the table. “Get your own.”

“You have never called me pretty boy,” Street points out, turning slightly away from you.

“I could,” Hondo points out. “I don’t know, it doesn’t suit me. Playboy, yes.”

“You can’t call him a playboy anymore, though,” Annie adds, stopping beside you to hug you.

You smile and stand, feeling the tenderness and care in Street’s movements as he pinches the hem of your dress and pulls it down. It comes from his inherent need to protect, and you thank him softly as you lower back to your seat. The men sitting across from you look at one another, wondering how Street could pay so much attention to you while engaging in conversations, yet fail to see the emotions behind it. Deacon is the only one who understands in any way; it’s a delicate connection between lovers, one that attunes you to the needs of the other without noise or spectacle, but a whisper or a subtle movement that encourages you to act.

After dinner, Tan suggests you meet at a jazz club/coffee shop hybrid that just opened nearby. Annie and Deacon politely decline to go home and be with their kids. The rest of your party finds their way to a booth in the corner, surrounded by dark décor and soft jazz playing under the hustle of the bar.

“I’ll get the drinks,” you offer as you stand.

Street rises with you this time, stating that he will help you carry everything. His presence also keeps the men around the bar from paying you too much attention, and as he stands behind you, he slides your dress strap higher onto your shoulder after it slips. He smooths his hand over your arm, then rests it on your hip.

“Not protective,” Tan repeats at the table.

“He’ll see it eventually,” Luca responds with a laugh.

“Maybe we should help,” Hondo adds, smiling as he looks away from you and Street.

“Keep talking,” Luca encourages.

3.) Street gets jealous and protective while you’re shopping together.

“Which color?” you ask Street. “I like the blue, but I’m not sure it suits me.”

“Every color suits you,” he replies. “The blue is nice. Try the pink, too.”

You nod and pick up your size in both colors to add them to the cart. Street places his hands on the rail and smiles at you.

“Where next?” he inquires.

“We can go to the dressing room. I know you have things to do.”

Street shakes his head and abandons his hold on the cart to pull you against his chest. “Your day, your shopping trip, so we look at everything you want. And then I get blessed with the dressing room fashion show.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” you murmur.

“Then I’ll pick the next thing for you to try.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

Street smiles and rubs your back. “Let’s go see if they have more of those pants you like so much. You said there were other colors when you bought them.”

Nearly half an hour later, you enter a fitting room with twenty items to try on. It seems Street picked more than you, but those are the clothes you’re most excited to try. Outside your stall, there’s a small hallway leading to an open area with a circular couch. Street and three other men sit and wait for their girlfriends to exit and show off their new clothing choices. Street shifts on the vinyl, wondering why the store is laid out to allow everyone sitting here to see anyone coming and going from the fitting room.

“Dalton!” one of the girls calls from around the corner.

“Courtney,” he replies, walking to the entrance. “Yeah?”

“Can you come help me zip this? I can’t tell if it doesn’t fit or if I just can’t reach it.”

“Sure.”

Dalton ventures farther into the fitting room area and Street stands. He already didn’t want these men to see you in the clothes he helped you pick out, but now that one of them has gone into the area where you are, he decides that it would be easiest to stay close. He locates your stall, at the very back, and says your name.

You open the door and smile as you spread your arms, dressed in the pink version of the first dress you chose.

“What do you think?” you ask, not even bothering to wonder why he’s back here instead of in the waiting area.

“Beautiful,” Street murmurs. “Like you.”

“It’s not gonna zip, babe,” Dalton says from one of the other stalls.

That’s why he came back here, you realize.

“I think I like this color on more than the blue,” you tell Street, drawing his attention from the door down the hall. “So, I’m going to try on the pants next.”

“Perfect.”

“Like you,” you repeat with a wink before you close the door.

4.) Street gets protective when you go out with your friends.

“I’m meeting some friends at Guisados,” you tell Street.

He looks up from his game, his eyes roaming over your outfit before landing on your face. His brows pinch together as he considers what you said.

“That’s not a great part of town,” he says. “I can come with you.”

You shake your head and explain, “We’re going for one of my girlfriends who just had a really big breakup. You know, girls’ night.”

“I could drive you down there, though.”

“Street, I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that.”

Your eyes widen at Street’s honest argument. He licks his lips but doesn’t say anything else.

“I’ll check in often,” you promise. “I get that you just want to stay close, make sure everything is okay, but it’s just not the night for that.”

“It’s not the night to keep you safe?” Street replies.

“I didn’t say that.”

Street takes a deep breath, then nods. “I know, I’m sorry. I just- I see the worst parts of LA every day, and I don’t love the idea of you in that area after dark. Please check in, and you should stay together.”

“We will.”

You bend forward to kiss Street, and when you pull back, he cups the back of your neck and pulls you in for one more kiss.

“Be careful,” he pleads softly.

“I’m coming home to you,” you promise. “I always will.”

For the next few hours, Street sits in silence, dressed and ready to run out the door as he watches your location on his phone. You see the notification that he’s viewing it, but you can't blame him if it makes him feel better.

“Sorry,” you tell your friends when your phone chimes.

You expect a text from Street, but the message from Victor Tan reads: Why does Street have us ready to roll during your girls’ night? Planning to pull a bank job?

Smiling at the message, you type your reply that he’s just being protective, as usual. The laughing emoji he sends makes you wonder if Street’s team is as aware of his jealousy and overprotectiveness as you are. Then you have the wonderfully terrible idea of asking them if you should test his limits. Street doesn’t deserve it; his desire to keep you safe comes from his experiences and job, and you love him, even his jealous pout and protective actions.

5.) Street gets overprotective when you’re injured.

“I see here that your emergency contact is Jim Street,” the nurse reads. “Is that still correct?”

You hum, imagining Street's reaction if he gets a call from White Memorial Hospital informing him that you’ve been injured.

“He’s actually at work,” you reply. “Could you call his commander instead and have him pass on the message? Preferably when my boyfriend is off duty?”

She nods and says, “I understand.”

The doctor clears you three hours after you arrive by ambulance, and you haven’t heard from Street yet, so you’re not sure he knows what happened. But you need a ride, so you’ll have to call someone.

“Hey,” Street greets. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Hi,” you reply.

“What’s wrong?”

“Promise not to freak out.”

“What’s wrong?” Street repeats, his voice tighter than before.

“Give the phone to someone else,” you request softly.

“No, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I will, but please let me talk to one of the other guys first.”

Street grumbles, but a moment later, you hear Deacon ask, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” you begin, “I’m at White Memorial and need a ride but I don’t want Street to freak out when he finds out what happened.” Deacon hums, and you explain, “I was walking down a sidewalk, and some guy swerved onto it. I jumped back when I saw him coming, but I sprained my ankle and fell, so they wanted to make sure I wasn’t concussed and hadn’t broken anything. All that’s wrong is the sprained ankle.”

“That’s good,” Deacon says. “I’ll bring him.”

“You’re the best, thank you, Deacon.”

“What?” Street demands as he takes the phone back. “Deac will bring me where?”

“Deep breaths, Street,” you remind him. It’s odd, considering he’s usually the one to calm you down. “I sprained my ankle, but I’m at White and need a ride home.”

“How’d you do that?”

“I- I think maybe I should tell you after you get here.”

The moment Street exits Deacon’s passenger seat before the car even stops, he’s pulling you against him to get the weight off your wrapped ankle and asking you yet again what happened.

“A guy swerved onto a sidewalk, and I fell jumping out of the way,” you explain. “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Did they arrest him?”

“He won’t be doing it again,” you answer.

Street’s brows furrow and Deacon fills in, “He ended up here, too, Street.”

Street looks back at you, and you explain, “He had a heart attack. That’s why he swerved. I found out a few minutes ago, Hondo called and told me it was on the accident report.”

“You’re never going anywhere alone ever again,” Street says, hugging you tightly.

“Oh no,” you deadpan. “Whatever will I do?”

1.) Street gets jealous when Hondo flirts with you, unaware it’s a setup to expose his overprotective tendencies.

“We can’t take this anymore,” Hondo says as you enter SWAT HQ.

“Where is he?” you inquire.

“Sulking somewhere because you disabled your tracking software,” Luca answers.

“My phone died,” you reply. “What do you suggest we do?”

“He won’t admit that he’s jealous and overprotective,” Tan begins. “So we need to show him that he is.”

“When is he most like that?” Luca asks.

“Uh… the worst I ever saw him was when a man flirted with me while we were out together.”

“We can do that,” Hondo states with a smile.

“I don’t like that smile,” Deacon murmurs.

“It might not end well for you,” you point out. “I had to talk him down from punching the last one.”

“I can handle Street; you just prepare to fight off the temptation to take me seriously.”

You roll your eyes and follow Hondo, hoping things do not worsen after this. Luca promises everything will be okay, and you desperately try to believe him.

A few minutes later, you wait in Hicks’ office with Hondo. “Where is she?” Street asks from outside.

“Here we go,” Hondo whispers.

“Sure,” you reply with a smile, perched on the corner of Hicks’ desk while Hondo leans toward you.

“Street always says you’re pretty, but your beauty… there’s not even a word for it,” Hondo flirts.

“Stop,” you reply, giggling as you gently push Hondo’s shoulder. “Hondo-“

“You’re too good for him,” he murmurs. “You know that right?”

You smile, not at what Hondo said but at how hard he’s trying not to laugh.

“Hondo!” Street bellows from the door. “A word?”

Hondo straightens and turns toward Street.

“Hey, Street,” you call, waving. “Hondo was keeping me company while I waited for you.”

“I can see that. Hondo?”

“Did you know she wears that outfit just because you picked it out?” Hondo asks.

Street’s anger melts into confusion momentarily. He isn’t sure what’s occurring, but he knows he doesn’t like it. Hondo reaches toward you, and Street is ready to snap before you pass Hondo his phone.

“Oh,” Street mumbles.

“Can I ask you something?” you inquire.

“Of course,” he answers.

“These reactions aren’t because you don’t trust me, right?”

“Absolutely not! I just… there’s some part of me that makes me desperate to keep you safe.”

“That’s called love,” Deacon says, stepping into the office with Luca and Tan.

“With a bit of jealousy because you know how good you’ve got it,” Luca adds, winking at you.

“You did all of this just to make me admit that I get jealous and can be overprotective?” Street asks.

“I didn’t work alone,” you defend. You stand from the desk and walk to Street before you say, “Besides, Hondo isn’t even my type.”

Hondo scoffs behind you, but you ignore him as you hug Street.

“I appreciate everything you do for me,” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he replies, tightening his grip on you. “Sorry I take it too far sometimes.”

“Honestly… it’s kinda hot.”

“No,” Tan groans.

“Why would you tell him that?” Luca questions.

“We were trying to fix him!” Hondo laments.

“You can’t fix what Street’s got,” Deacon points out. “As long as he’s in love, this is normal.”

“So, you do the same thing for Annie?” Street asks.

“No,” Deacon answers.

Street raises his hands in question, and you murmur, “Because they’re not us.”

#jim street x fem!reader #jim street x reader #jim street imagine #swat x reader #swat one shot #swat imagines

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