#jim street x reader

[writings-of-a-demigod]

“I don’t think Y/n’s hearing aids are working that well.” Deacon said being worried.

“What makes you think they are not working?” Hondo asked.

“Cuz sometimes after we ask them for something, they act like it was the first time I ask them that.”

They were both heading to you to see if you got any new info on the case. As they made their way they could hear the rest of the team arguing, Tan and Luca vs Street while you just stood there looking at them with dead eyes then turned to the Ipad in your hand.

“I honestly think that would be a waste of time and they could get away before we close in on them.” Street defended.

“Hey hey hey what’s going on in here?” Hondo asked.

“Just deciding on our new approach.” Tan replied.

“So what we got so far?” Deacon asked.

They all turned to look at you, your eyes were still locked on the Ipad in your hand, having no idea what’s going on around you. They waited for a whole minute just in case you were pulling on the files.

“Y/n?” Hondo called you.

He called you again but still no respond. Deacon shared a look with Hondo. Street touched your arm and that’s when you turned your head to look at him and noticed the whole team was already looking at you.

You smiled then put your hand behind your ear and turn on your hearing aid “What?”

They all looked shocked at you.

“Did you turn off your hearing aid?” Tan asked.

You nodded. Jim chuckled because he knows this, you did this all the time at home.

“Why?” it was Luca’s turn.

“Oh” you let out a small laugh “Whenever I know there’s going to be some dumb argument, I just turn it off so the stupidness doesn’t affect me.”

“Yeah, that explains so much.” Deacon commented.

A/n: This was requested by an anonymous. I've actually had this idea in mind for weeks I just didn't know for who to write it. Thank you!

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

[fluentmoviequoter]

Opposites

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x shy/quiet!fem!reader (implied Hondo's sister)

Summary: Hondo finds out you're dating someone, but doesn't expect it to be Jim Street, your total opposite.

Warnings: r is referred to as Hondo's sister but I left this pretty vague (could be half-sister or they just grew up really close!), lots of fluff!

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

A/N: I'm still getting a feel for writing Street, so apologies if he's OOC!

Picture from Pinterest

“Ooh, I know that smile!” Hondo says. “Haven’t seen it since high school, though.”

“Leave me alone,” you demand weakly.

“You talk to your new boy toy like that?”

“Yes.”

Hondo shakes his head as he sits beside you. Growing up together taught Hondo all of your tells. While he will be the first to tease you mercilessly, he is fiercely protective, refusing to let anyone else take advantage of your shyness. Your seemingly sudden and unexplained silences have often been taken as weakness; Hondo has been defending your honor for most of your life.

“So, you’ll admit there is a guy?” Hondo continues.

You tilt your head back against the couch, sighing rather than answering.

“Oh, that’s a yes. It’s been a while, has your type changed since high school?”

“You haven’t.”

“You’re not gonna tell me anything, are you?”

“Nope.”

Sighing, Hondo pats your knee before standing. He has to go to work, and you know he will be thinking about you and your “new boy toy” until he gets answers.

“Hondo,” you call softly. “He’s a good guy, okay? And I’ll introduce you as soon as I’m ready.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“And listen to you use it against me? Yeah, sounds like tons of fun, bro.”

“Against you? What kinda guy you think I am?” Hondo replies, raising a hand to his chest. “I’m just try’na help you.”

Humming, you hope he knows you aren’t buying his protective big brother act. You and he both know that it’s not an act and he has overprotective tendencies.

“As long as he’s good,” Hondo continues, “I’m alright with it. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to meet him when you’re feeling up to it.”

You nod, and Hondo waves over his shoulder as he leaves for work. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you text your so-called boy toy to have a good day, but you don’t include a warning that Hondo is in one of his investigative (read: nosy) moods today.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into SWAT HQ the following morning, you tap Hondo’s wallet against your palm. If you catch him while he’s alone, you’ll tease him about leaving his stuff at home or try to get ransom money, but you doubt that will happen. Hondo is rarely alone, and he seems to enjoy watching you squirm at the attention of his teammates. They’re nice but make you even quieter than usual, which Hondo didn’t think was possible until you visited the first time.

Hicks says your name, smiling as he approaches you. “Hondo’s over by the ring. Good to see you.”

“You too,” you reply quietly.

You hear him before you see him, and your shoulders tense when you hear the number of voices mixing with his. Stopping beside a pillar, you wait until he notices you, unable to interrupt their bickering. Street sees you first, his brows furrowing as he looks you over, ensuring you’re okay. When he sees the wallet in your hand, he rolls his eyes, elbowing Hondo’s side and pointing to you. Street smiles when you tuck the wallet behind your back.

“What’s up?” Hondo asks when he sees you.

“Are you missing something?” you ask, keeping your eyes on him rather than the other men looking at you.

“I don’t think so,” he answers after a moment. “Should I be?”

You shrug, and Street steps back to hide his smile from Hondo.

“What’d you take?” Hondo demands.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing. Don’t make me take you into an interrogation room in front of all my lovely friends here.”

You take a short breath at the idea, already shy enough just standing before them.

“Hondo,” Street calls. “Lay off, man.”

“When you get your own shy person, you can decide how much teasing is acceptable, kid.”

Street looks back at you, shrugging as if saying, ‘Hey, I tried.’ You know better than anyone that Hondo can’t be reasoned with.

“So, you’re not missing anything?” you repeat.

“No,” Hondo insists.

You nod, pulling his wallet from behind your back. You take some of his cash and a random gift card from it before tossing it to him.

“Hey,” Hondo warns, holding his hand out for the rest.

“You said you weren’t missing anything, so this isn’t any different,” you argue softly.

“She’s got you there, boss,” Luca comments, leaning against the corner of the boxing ring as he watches the interaction. “But can we get back to work now?”

Hondo looks at you with his brows raised and his jaw set, so you smile and slide the cash into your pocket before waving. After you’re out of sight, you shake your arms, desperate for the comfort of solitude after being on display like that.

Behind you, Street says, “You may call the teasing shots, but she owns you. Can’t blame you for letting her get away with so much, though.”

“What does that even mean, man?” Hondo replies.

“Nothing,” Street answers with a smile. “Now, can we keep sparring so I can take your title, old man?”

Hondo stretches his neck to the side, forgetting about you and focusing on defending his title. His misplaced focus keeps him from dwelling on the soft looks between you and Street.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You good?” Street asks, laying his hands on your shoulders.

You nod, relaxing under his touch.

“I liked your bad cop act at HQ today. Think you should have taken some more ransom money, but you’re cute when you’re trying to be tough.”

Leaning toward him, you wish there was an easy way to hide from him.

“Sorry.”

“What’d you do today?” you ask.

“Can’t tell you that, it’s classified,” he replies quickly.

“Who’d you do it for?”

“Can’t tell you that, either.”

“Do you like me?”

“Can’t tell you- hey, that actually wasn’t bad.” Street smiles as he hooks his arms over your shoulders, pulling you close in a hug that probably looks uncomfortable but wraps you in safety. “I can tell you that and the answer is yes.”

“Why?” you whisper, looping your arms around him.

Street doesn’t answer, raising a hand to brush over your hair and down your back. You sigh, grateful for quiet moments like this. Street can push you just as hard as Hondo, but the moment he takes it too far or thinks he does, he gets sweet and gentle again, whispering apologies and pressing kisses to your hairline that make you even shyer than the original teasing. You are sure he does it on purpose, but you don't care while receiving his affections.

“Hondo figured out that I’m dating someone,” you tell him, pushing a hand under his jacket to rest against his back.

“How?”

“Apparently I have a smile unique to liking someone.”

“Cute.” You huff, and Street adds, “I’ve never had a brother like Hondo, but it seems to me like he really cares about you and just wants to make sure you’re safe and happy. If you want to tell him, I’m prepared to accept the consequences.”

“I don’t want to tell him. He’ll do it again.”

“Do what?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Street tightens his arms on you until you grunt. If he really thinks touching you more will make you talk, he hasn’t learned anything.

“Well, just know that whatever you decide to do, I’m with you. And if you need someone to protect you from Hondo’s teasing, I’m pretty good at that.”

“Hicks can make him stop faster.”

“Because Hicks is scary.”

“No, he’s not. Hondo just respects him more.”

“You may be quiet, but you have no regard for maintaining my ego, do you?”

You shake your head against him, smiling as he dips his head to whisper, “Luckily, I like you more than me.”

Tucking your face against him, he chuckles underneath you. You don’t know if he can tell, but when he makes you shy, it’s different than when Hondo does it.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m heading out,” Street announces, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder.

“Have a nice weekend,” Deacon replies.

“If you have time, our campaign needs us!” Luca calls after him.

“Hard to find time in a busy social schedule like his,” Hondo jokes.

“He’s actually been seeing the same girl for a while,” Luca comments.

“Good for him,” Tan responds.

“I’m right behind him,” Hondo says, closing his locker. “Enjoy your time off.”

As he walks outside, he doesn’t expect to see Street is still there, but what truly surprises him is the sight of Street sitting on his motorcycle, looking up at a woman like she’s the only thing that has ever mattered.

Hondo shakes his head, taking a step toward his car. He stops when he hears a familiar laugh, low and like it’s trying to be hidden. Turning quickly, he calls your name.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What are you doing here?” Street asks, pulling you into a hug when he sees you.

“Missed you,” you confess.

Street pulls back, gripping both sides of your waist as he lowers onto his bike, looking up at you. You drop your eyes to his arms, unable to speak with his attention on you like this. Someone yells your name, and you look up without thinking, immediately stiffening when you see Hondo walking toward you.

“Help,” you whisper.

Street stands, nodding at you before he turns to face Hondo.

“Hondo,” he begins.

“Don’t,” Hondo warns, pointing at him while looking at you. “Jim Street, really?”

“Yes,” you answer. “We’ve been dating for a while.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me? Of all the people you could’ve chosen, you got 20-David’s resident playboy. I know you’re shy, but you can do better.”

 “Hondo, stop,” you demand. “That’s not fair.”

Hondo takes a breath, thinking back to the moment he interrupted. That was a side of Street he has never seen.

“Okay,” he says, turning toward Street. “Try to explain it.”

“She is the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Street answers. “But forcing her to talk before she’s ready isn’t going to help this.”

Hondo hates to admit it, but Street is right. You’ve clearly been happy, and in the few minutes he’s been watching, he’s gentle with you, at the least.

“You’ll still talk to me when you’re ready?” Hondo asks you.

“No. Not unless you apologize. You’re judging Jim for something he used to do with no evidence that he’s still like that. You changed, and you preach that people can, but you refuse to see it.”

Your shoulders drop as you finish, losing your anger after defending Street.

“You’re right,” Hondo replies. “And I’m sorry, Street. I just-“

“I get it, Hondo, she’s your sister. But I’m not going to hurt her.”

“You better not.”

Hondo walks away, and you sag against Street’s side.

“Sorry,” you tell him.

“Eh, I’m used to him,” Street replies.

“As a sergeant, not an overprotective brother.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Not until I have to. He won’t understand any of it.”

“Just tell him opposites attract.”

“Makes it sound like you think I complete you,” you murmur.

“I think we need to get out of here so I can kiss you until you can’t even say my name,” Street whispers in your ear.

You make a sound that you hope conveys your displeasure with his statement. He takes it as an opportunity to keep teasing instead. He really is your opposite, but that’s what makes you like him.

#jim street x fem!reader #jim street x reader #jim street fluff #jim street #swat #swat cbs #fem!reader #shy!reader #requests

[stefanmikaleson1864]

Secrets

Jim Street X Reader 

Street helps the writer through a panic attack. 

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

Y/N’s POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey it’s okay I got you” Street said

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it anxiety or something” Jim asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You both started jogging over to Black Betty. 

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

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

#swat imagine #swat #jim street #street x reader #jim street x reader #jim street imagine #jim street one shot #swat x reader #swat one shot

[violetflowerswrites]

Taking it Slow

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

Pairing: Jim Street x (Female) Reader

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

Word Count: 4.5k

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

Part One Here - “Too Complicated”

Masterlist Here

…

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

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

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

A school bombing?

Not on their watch.

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

tick

tock

It’s

only

9

freakin

AM

on a Monday.

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

One

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

Two

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

Three

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

Four

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

Five

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

Six

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

Seven

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

Eight

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

Nine

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

Ten

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

Fallen desks and books scattered haphazardly across the classroom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, Y/N! It’ll be fun!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Street takes in your expression and furrows his brow.

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

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

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

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

He smacks the wheel and laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

“Take your time.”

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

“Can we get ice cream first?”

…

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

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

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

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

It was your escape.

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

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

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

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

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

“What? You taste good.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So yes.

You were fucking sure you wanted him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nah.”

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

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

“Hold on, Jim.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

“No, I haven’t.”

“So fuck me.”

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

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

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

“Be as rough as you want.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Street,” you pant.

“Yeah?”

“Go faster.”

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, that was incredible.

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

You turn, catching him admiring you.

“What?” You ask, totally unaware.

“You’re beautiful.”

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

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

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

…

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

“Jim. I’m there.”

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

One

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

Two

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

Three

You almost never call him by his first name.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

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

“What happened? Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re coming.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meanwhile you breathe out a sigh of relief.

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

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

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

“We have to go!” Street yells desperately.

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

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

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

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

But he doesn’t hear a reply.

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

Tan makes a game plan immediately as they keep running.

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

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

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

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

Thu-thump

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

Thu-thump

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

Once. Twice.

Thu-thump

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

Thu-thump

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

Thu-thump

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

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

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

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

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

He flies down the steps, Tan covering his back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

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

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

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

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

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

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

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

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

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

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

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

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

“Street!” You shake his shoulder insistently.

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

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

“You’re in trouble.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I got you, Y/N. I’m right here.”

Fuck taking it slow.

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

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

“Hey—“

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

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

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

And just how much he loves you too.

….

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

[bradleybeachbabe]

hi! once again, i’m opening my requests for only a few characters

the characters are listed below!

jay halstead

tim bradford

david ‘deacon’ kay

jim street

eddie diaz

jake ‘hangman’ seresin

send in full on fic requests, headcanon requests, sfw/nsfw alphabet requests, anything that you can think of :)

here are my request guidelines

#rachel talks💭 #tim bradford x reader #jay halstead x reader #david kay x reader #jim street x reader #eddie diaz x reader #jake seresin x reader

[twistnet]

let me apologize [ jim street ]

⋯ KINKTOBER PROMPT ; day 04 [ missionary ]

⋯ WARNINGS ; gn!reader, smut [ sub!jim + bratty!jim, praise kink, sex position -- missionary, crying, edging, orgasms, cum eating ] + mature language

⋯ NOTE ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post // masterlist will be blocked

when jim had first extended the offer for you to join him at swat headquarters for a charity fundraiser, all under the pretense that he just wanted to be able to spend some time with you and have a chance to show you off to the rest of his co-workers, you hadn’t ever expected for the display of behavior you are witnessing. jim had been nothing but a brat all night. 

you weren’t exactly sure when the attitude had started, or even what had caused the sudden switch in his mood, but you weren’t the least bit impressed with the way he had been acting or speaking to you. you had thought about bringing it up, pulling him to some private corner to hiss in his ear about how bad he was being, but thought against it. if he wanted to keep digging his on grave, you were going to let him. he’d realize it later.

and he did. the moment he locked eyes with you from across the room and caught the unimpressed and disappointed look you shot him, he knew he was screwed. you are a little different from previous partners, as any of his previous would have snatched him up and punished him in the nearest locked room -- not caring of anyone passing by could hear his pathetic cries. not you. you functioned on the aspect of disappointment, and it only made jim feel worse when you furrowed you eyes at him and you told him how upset you were. all in an even tone before ignoring him until he was begging for some form of attention and utter out his apologizes.

he hated it, but he loved it. wanting nothing more than to please you. be your good boy and make you nothing but happy. and yet here you were, plainly ignoring him from across the room and more so now that the event had ended. you had slapped his hand away when he attempted to make it up to you, head turned away from him as he whimpered in his seat and looked down at his hands in his lap.

“i’m sorry...” he mutters, tears brimming his eyes as he hears you sigh. hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as you took a deep breath, “i don’t know what’s gonna into you tonight, but that was completely uncalled for. you acted like a brat all night, and for what? what was the reason for you behaving so unacceptable?” you question, tone never harsh or mean, just more demanding as jim swallowed harshly.

“y-you wondered off and i didn’t get to see you all night. you were supposed to be there with me, but you weren’t.” he answered, a slight twinge of malice dripping into his tone that you quickly picked up on as you scoffed, “so you thought it was appropriate to act like a brat all evening because i wasn’t paying attention to you? when you could have just joined me or asked for me to join you at your side?”

“i’m sorry...” he utters again, head ducking down in shame as you sigh once more, “you definitely will be once you figure out what your punishment is for the night...” and for the first time that night, you finally look over at him with a blank expression. only serving to further raise the shame he feels resting the in the pit of his stomach.

and what ended up being his punishment? you resting softly against the pillows, working yourself closer and closer to your impending orgasm as jim sits between your spread legs, rutting his cock into your tight hole. arms glued to his side as his brow furrows in concentration -- trying to keep himself from coming until you tell him to do so.

“please...” he utters, voice cracking in the slightest as a hue of red pairing his cheeks, neck and chest seem to darken in the slightest as his cock twitches inside of you. you only hum in response, eyes drifting closed once more as you drop your head back against the pillows.

as his whimpers start to grow, it tells you that he’s close to coming and your eyes open slightly, “stop.” you utter, before a pained cry sounds off the bedroom walls and jim’s pace slows to a complete stop. his cheeks are puffy, and a couple of stray tears dribble down the slopes of his cheeks as his teeth catch his bottom lip in an attempt to drag his mind away from how close he was to coming.

“are you sorry, baby?” you question, watching as jim nods rapidly before apologizes tumble from his lips combined with choked sobs. you hum softly, and skimming up his chest before gripping his chin between your fingers and tugging his gaze down toward you, “then make come, and the second you do, you can come too.”

the words are barely out of your mouth before jim slams into you, pounding into your hole at an unrelenting pace that has you crying out and gripping his shoulders for support. he’s chasing his orgasm, already knowing how close you are to your own orgasm -- knowing that the faster he’s able to make you come on his cock, the faster he gets to come inside of you.

he feels you clench around him, your orgasm rolling over you in waves as jim lets out a strangled cry, coming literal seconds after you with a heavy breath. ropes of cum painting your insides before he’s dropping against your chest.

you’re quickly to scoop him up into a loving embrace, pressing a kiss to his forehead as your fingers comb through his damp hair, “if you want something, baby, don’t be afraid to ask for it.” jim nods softly against your chest, eyelids already heavy and he’s slowly drifting off before he could utter another word.

blog navigation ⇢ [ kinktober masterlist ]

#swat #swat x reader #swat imagine #jim street #jim street x reader #jim street imagine #gn!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2022 #twistnet :: kinktober 2022

[samantha-chicago]

S.W.A.T Masterlist

Over Work (Eddie Diaz x reader, James Street, Dominic Luca, S.W.A.T.)

#swat #swat prompt #swat fanfiction #jim street x reader #jim street #dominic luca #dominique luca x reader #chris alonso #david kay x reader #david kay #hondo x reader #daniel harrelson x reader #daniel hondo harrelson #victor tan #victor tan x reader

[solesommerso]

Sammy if you're up for it - "the world is not ending just because you forgot," Street x Reader; Street forgets their anniversary after a case drags on too long & he's desperately trying to make up for it. I'd choose fluffy theme, but I'll leave you to decide if you end it smutty 😏🥰

Forgot | Jim Street x Reader

Genre: romance

Warnings: slight nsfw

~

“What’s all this?” You laugh slightly at the box of chocolates, bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear and written out letter all held in Streets arms when you open the door to your apartment.

“I’m so sorry.” Your expression falls, no matter how many times you’ve assured Street that him being stuck on shift is okay and not the end of the world, it’s just an anniversary. You’ve never been one to get all excited about a certain amount of time passing in a relationship, todays just like every other day.

“You don’t need to apologize! How many times do I need to say it?” You groan while ushering Street inside, taking the flowers and bear out of his overflowing grasp.

“I feel bad, I haven’t even been home in two days.” Street sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck once he has all the items placed on your kitchen island counter.

“The world is not ending just because you forgot, it’s technically still our anniversary anyways.” You lean to wrap your arms over Streets shoulders, leaning your chest onto his and grinning up at him.

“Barely, it’s almost twelve.” It is late but the both of you are use to staying up late.

“You have twenty five minutes left Street.” You glance at the clock behind Street, technically he only has fifteen minutes but he can think otherwise.

“I think I can work with that.” You squeal when Streets arms wrap around your waist to hoist you onto his waist with kisses quickly being pressed into your neck.

#writing #js #jim street #jim street x reader

[camillyb]

this may seem like a lot but, do you have any fanfic (probably whump) recommendations for:

evan buckley (9-1-1)

Matt Casey (chicago fire)

the Halstead brothers (chicago med and PD)

john carter (ER)

Conrad Hawkins (the resident)

and lastly Jim Street (S.W.A.T 2017)?

thankss and have a great day!

hey! sorry for the delay in responding!

EVAN BUCKLEY (9-1-1) of @mystic-writings

MATT CASEY (CHICAGO FIRE) of @unmistakablyunknown

JAY HALSTEAD (CHICAGO P.D.) of @collecting-stories

WILL HALSTEAD (CHICAGO MED) of @resanoona

JAY & WILL X SISTER READER of @resanoona

JOHN CARTER (ER) of @dickgrcyscns

CONRAD HAWKINS (THE RESIDENT) of @daydreamingatnight209

JIM STREET (S.W.A.T.) of @blathannabeaga

here are my favs! have a great day!

#jim street x reader #evan buckley x reader #matt casey x reader #jay halstead x reader #will halstead x reader #halstead sister #john carter x reader #conrad hawkins x reader

[writings-of-a-demigod]

“I’m not a violent person” you said.

 Street and Luca looked at each other in ‘are you kidding me look?’ Street started laughing while you looked at them with raised eyebrow and Luca trying to hide his smile.

“I’m sorry can you repeat that I swear I heard you say that you’re not a violent person” Street said while looking at you.

 “Yeah that’s what I said I’m not a violent person” you repeated.

 Luca started laughing louder now while Street looked at them a laughed to themselves in a quieter voice.

“Oh my god I swear they are trying to kill me” Luca said while holding his stomach.

You looked at them unamused “I’m not.”

Street looked at you dead in the eyes “I have a literal list to prove that you are a violent person.”

“bushh no you don’t” You said trying to walk ahead

 “Oh really?” said Street “Look at my nose” He walked faster than you then stood right in front of you.

 “You broke my nose because I opened a box that belonged to you” you rolled your eyes.

“Still not a violent person” you move around Street and kept walking.

“Oh I’m not done yet” Street followed thought while Luca was just watching the scene fold in front of his eyes.

“That time you punched me in the jaw. That other time you broke my arm oh and let’s not forget the time you pushed me down the stairs and broke my leg” Street was using his fingers to count you turned around and looked at him.

 “You knew what was coming”

Street stared at you “Oh yeah what about the time you stabbed me in the shoulder.”

You scoffed “I didn’t stab you”

Street’s eyes winded “Right I just happened to walk into the knife you were holding.”

“Yeah you did” You replied.

“and what about the time you threatened to break all Luca’s fingers because they wanted to move that stupid machine?” Street folded his arms over his chest.

“That was a warning”

 Street raised their eyebrow “what if I tell you that I will take that sword away from you?”

You got real close to Street’s face and said in a real quiet voice “Then I will break every bone in your body.”

Luca smiled “Said the nonviolent person” in a loud voice.

*gifs not mine*

#writings-of-a-demigod #SWAT imagines #s.w.a.t #s.w.a.t imagines #jim street #dominique luca #jim street x reader #luca x reader

[fluentmoviequoter]

Favorite Woman

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: Street celebrates you, his girlfriend, daily. On Women's Day, however, he steps up to make you feel special and loved.

Warnings: fluff!! brief mention of domestic violence (20-David responds)

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

A/N: Happy Women's Day to all of you amazing women! Life wouldn't be the same without you.🤍

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

Picture from Pinterest

When you wake up on March 8, you don’t expect anything special. It’s just another day on the calendar, but when you’re dating Jim Street, you never truly know what will happen from day to day. After you rub your eyes and stretch, you reach for your phone. A message from Street pops up when you unlock it.

Happy Women’s Day to my favorite woman.

You smile as you type a quick reply before getting up and preparing for the day. The message was unexpected but a sweet surprise that put you in a great mood, and you hope it’s the beginning of a great day. Once you’re dressed and ready, you text Street another message, asking him to have a great day and let you know how he is when he gets a chance.

Opening your front door to leave, you nearly trip over a large bouquet of flowers. Your smile grows when you see Street’s name on the card. He pulled out all of the stops for Valentine’s Day, so you probably shouldn’t be surprised, but you’ve never had someone celebrate you for an entire day just because you’re a woman. Then again, you are Jim Street’s favorite woman.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’s up with you, smiley?” Luca asks.

“Nothing,” Street answers. “Just excited for a good day.”

“Oh,” Hondo interject. “And why is it such a good day?”

“It’s Women’s Day,” Street replies.

“Ah, best day of the year for a playboy,” Luca teases. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Dinner reservations at a café on the beach.”

“Wait, you celebrate Women’s Day, like make a whole thing out of it?” Tan asks.

“Of course. I mean, I’m dating a woman, and she’s amazing, so I’m going to celebrate her every chance I get.”

“They grow up so fast,” Hondo jokes, shaking Street’s shoulder. “What else you got up your sleeve, Mr. Romantic?”

“Please don’t let that stick,” Street whispers. “I got her a couple presents, sent her a text this morning, just little things to show her I appreciate her.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What is that?” you ask, staring at the gift bag with wide eyes.

“Delivery. It just got dropped off. Have a good one.”

“You too.”

Pulling the bag closer, you untie the intricate bow holding the handles together before removing a long jewelry box. The bracelet inside is small, minimalistic, but incredibly beautiful. The light pink color is nearly invisible, seeming to be a sparkling white diamond shade unless the light hits it right. At the clasp, a small charm with ‘JS’ engraved on it.

Despite knowing that he may not answer, you call Street. When he does answer, you don’t let your surprise distract you.

“Hey,” he greets happily, and you can picture the loving smile on his face.

“This is too much,” you say. “I can’t accept this.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want another color, or-“

“Jim,” you interrupt with a laugh. “It’s too expensive.”

“You make it sound like you’re not worth the money. You don’t really want to have this argument on today of all days, do you?”

“Look, I love you.”

“And I love you. I meant it, you are my favorite woman and I love you and want to celebrate you.”

“You do that every day.”

“Not like this.”

“Wait, what does that mean? Street, is there more stuff coming?”

“I’ve already said too much.”

“Well,” you begin, smiling as you lean back and think of the one thing you want but haven’t gotten today. “In that case, can I make a special request?”

“Sure.”

“I want a kiss, as soon as possible.”

“I can be there in five minutes.”

“Without leaving work,” you add. “LA needs you, too.”

“LA isn’t as pretty as you.”

“Street.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Street, seriously, listen to me very closely. I love you, and I know that you love me, you make me feel seen and heard and loved, and I appreciate you and all of the gifts more than you know.”

“I love you, too. Hey, we just got a call, but I’ll-“

“See you then,” you interrupt. “Be safe. I love you.”

The line beeps when he ends the call, and you smile, looking at his initials hanging from your wrist. Street is the best boyfriend in the world, and knowing he is willing to celebrate you just because of who you are makes you fall even deeper in love with him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Domestic disturbance,” Hondo alerts as the team climbs into Black Betty. “Neighbor said he could hear the husband yelling before things were thrown against the wall, but both neighbors are barricaded inside, refusing to talk to police.”

“Any idea if he’s armed?” Deacon asks.

“No registered weapons,” Hondo replies. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not.”

“How are we doing this?”

“I say we go in through the front door,” Street offers. “If he thinks cops are waiting out there, he’s not likely to expect it to get blown open.”

Hondo shrugs before nodding. “Stay liquid.”

Street reaches the door first, kicking it open once he feels Hondo’s hand on his shoulder.

“LAPD, step back!” he yells.

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s been about an hour since you talked to Street, and each moment that goes by without an update worries you. Playing with the bracelet and looking at your flowers helps, but you need confirmation he’s okay. Someone knocks on your door, drawing your attention away from the bracelet as you sign for another delivery.

The assortment of fruit and chocolate is so beautiful that you don’t want to eat it. When you see the card, you rush to open it and read it.

One more delivery, but enjoy this until then. Thank you for making life fun. I love you.

You wonder what more Street could have planned because your day is as close to perfect as you’ve ever experienced.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Well, if you’re done being a terrible human being, I’ve got a date with a beautiful woman,” Street grunts, pulling the handcuffed man to his feet.

“Hope yours listens better than mine,” the man replies.

“Tan, I need you to take him,” Street calls, passing him off before he can do something he’ll get in trouble for (not regret, just be punished for).

Street looks at his watch, and Hondo says, “Get out of here. But you may want to clean up before you pick up that beautiful woman.”

“Hey, are we ever gonna get to meet her?” Deacon asks, smiling as he removes his helmet. “Because I for one did not expect you of all people to settle down.”

“I’ve met her,” Luca brags.

“Yeah, yeah, roommate privileges,” Tan says as he returns. “But no one else wants to live with Street.”

“I’ll bring her to dinner or something soon,” Street promises. “Bye.”

“I’m sure there’s a joke about his mommy issues or something, but he’s so happy I can’t bring myself to make it,” Tan muses.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Street apologizes as he walks into your apartment, slipping his spare key into his suit pocket. “I- whoa.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, smiling.

“You look amazing,” Street adds, kissing your cheek. “Perfect.” Another kiss. “Beautiful.” Another kiss.

“You have good taste.”

“In women or clothing?” he asks. “Because you're the one that wanted the outfit, so I’m going to go with good taste in you.”

“How did you stay single this long?”

“I looked, but there’s only one you.”

“You did way too much today, but I love you for it.”

“I didn’t do enough. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I don’t show you enough.”

“You do. Jim, you’re the best part of me, and every single thing you do and say shows me that you love me.”

“So, you don’t want to go to dinner?”

You smile, laying your arms over his shoulders. “I really want to go to dinner. You look amazing, and I feel amazing, and I love you so much that I’m not sure I can survive another moment without kissing you.”

“Oh, right, I’m sorry, I forgot about your special request.”

“Then do something about it,” you whisper, leaning closer to him.

Street smiles, pulling you against him as he kisses you. Being his favorite woman makes you feel whole, and you’re never as happy as when you’re in his arms.

“I would like to hear more about how I’m your favorite woman,” you say, pulling back. “Because you’ve worked with some incredibly strong women.”

“But there’s only one you.”

“And there’s only one you.”

Street kisses your temple, wrapping an arm around you as he leads you toward his car. You lean against him, enjoying his warmth and the joy and comfort he provides you.

“That’s probably a good thing,” he replies. “Because the one of me that there is loves you, even if he doesn’t tell you enough. Happy Women’s Day, to the most beautiful, loving, perfect woman in the world.”

“Will you still feel that way tomorrow?”

“I’ll feel this way until I can’t feel anything. You’re stuck with me.”

#jim street x fem!reader #jim street x reader #jim street fluff #fluff #swat cbs #requests #fem!reader #happy women's day #hanna writes✯

[hauntedmilkshakeghost]

Prompt from your prompt list “Peppering kisses on the other's cheeks, nose, forehead, temple, etc.” for Jim Street, I’ve been soooo in love with him recently and I just know he’d be the softest baby everrrrrr

June Blurbs

“Bab-eeeeeeeee.” Jim’s voice is slurred as he stumbles through the house, “Where’d you goooooooooooo, I need you.”

You chuckle softly as you finish filling up the water bottle, “I’m in the kitchen, darling.”

“Baby! There you are!!!! I thought you had gone home!” Jim’s voice is way too loud for the time, it’s nearly 3 am.

“Jim, I live here, I am home.” You giggle and smooth a hand over his hair, “I was just getting you some water.”

Jim’s brow furrows, “But I live here?”

You smile and stroke his face, “Mhmm, we live here together.”

He gasps excitedly and holds your face between his hands and presses kisses across your face. He starts with your forehead, then your nose, your cheeks, your eyelids, and finally your lips.

“I can’t believe that! Weeeeeeeee live together?” He giggles as he wraps his whole body around you and picks you up.

“Jim!!!!” You squeal as he spins you around, “Don’t do that, you’ll get dizzy.”

And as soon as he puts you he wobbles, “Woah.”

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought, come on. Let’s get you to bed.” You chuckle and grab the water bottle as you put your hand on the small or his back.

“You’re gonna lay with me…….right baby?” He asks softly.

You smile and kiss his temple, “Of course, lovey, of course.”

#June blurbs #Jill writes #Jim street #Jim street x reader #Jim street fluff #swat

[violetflowerswrites]

Too Complicated

Summary: On a drunken whim, Jim Street and his roommate share a kiss. They try to forget it the next morning, but things only end up getting more complicated when a second kiss leads to much more. (Sex. They have lots of it.)

Pairing: Jim Street x (Female) Reader

Disclaimer: teasing and flirting and plenty of good ol sexual tension. Some mention of the foster system, homelessness, drug addiction, custody of children, and jail (reader is a social worker). Soft and caring Street. Reader can’t take a compliment. Alcohol consumption (both are 21+). Kissing and touching. The smut in this is absolutely filthy. Oral sex (female and male receiving). Consensual P in V sex. Definitely 18+ for explicit smut and language.

Word Count: 4.0k

A/N: I had a LOT of fun writing this fic with Jim Street. SWAT might be one of my fave shows right now and something about Street and his cute little dimples just makes my heart go–! I also got a little intense with the case that the reader talks about. It’s inspired by some real students I’ve encountered in my (very short) time as a teacher. ALSO I am sorry not sorry about how dirty the smut got in this so PLEASE use your good judgment before reading this. I was heavily inspired by a GREAT video on Bellesa by the same title. So here’s my tribute to Street and all his beautiful baby boy energy!

The bright LA morning sun is shining lazily through the kitchen window while you mindlessly shove another bite of cereal into your mouth. You scroll through instagram, liking pictures of your friends and their dogs when you hear clomping footsteps come out into the room.

Your back tenses up immediately and you force yourself to look as if this was just another typical morning living with Officer Jim Street, LAPD SWAT.

Street, on the other hand, acts like nothing is amiss and he goes straight to the cabinet, grabs a glass, and starts mixing his usual disgusting protein shake.  

The silence drags on for a few minutes more, but it feels like an eternity. You finally twist around in your chair, and god, why did he have to be shirtless today of all days? You try not to get distracted by Street’s biceps and washboard set of abs as he leans against the kitchen island, sipping his drink and scrolling on his phone.

He doesn’t even bother to look up until you break the quiet with: “So, we’re not gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Street asks, his drink half raised to his mouth.

“Last night. We got drunk–and we kissed.”

…

That Friday night started out like any other.

You were sitting on the couch watching some overdramatic crime show when you heard the unmistakable sound of the front door being unlocked and a pair of thick-soled boots thumping onto the hardwood floor.

“You know those shows are all super inaccurate, right?” Street comments from the doorway.

“Hi to you too. There’s brownies on the counter.” You continue watching, but you roll your eyes at him even though he can’t see it.

Street rubs his hands in anticipation of a treat. You’re an excellent baker, and one of the best perks of having you as a roommate is that you’ll sometimes leave a plate of goodies out, with a sticky note and bold sharpie letters explaining what it is. It was the best pick me up after a long day at SWAT, and he always had trouble limiting himself to just one dessert. After all, he has to stay fit for work, or so he tells himself.

But tonight, the counter had brownies. And another plate of chocolate chip cookies. And another with lemon bars. And a pile of freshly washed mixing bowls stacked high on the drying rack that told him all he needed to know about your day.

You were stress baking.

This had happened a few times before and it usually meant you had a particularly difficult case at work, and you put all your frustration into the sugar, butter, and flour.

In a weird way, Street benefited from your stress, but he also proved to be a good listener, and the two of you became pretty good friends after those deep conversations.

So this time, Street stuffed a brownie into his mouth as he went to the fridge, grabbed a can of beer for himself and your bottle of wine, and settled onto the couch next to you. He paused Netflix and poured you a glass, forcing you to look at him.

“You stress baked again.”

“Hmph.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining ‘cause I get to eat it all, but you wanna talk about it?”

You stare at the glass of wine that Street handed you and decided that you didn’t really want to get into it. Not while you were this sober at least.

“I’m trying out recipes for a bridal shower next month. Try each one and tell me which one I should make.” You change the topic, avoiding eye contact.

Street knows you don’t really like opening up and he gets it–neither does he. So he decides to play along and grabs one of each treat.

“I’ve already had the brownie so let me try the cookies and the lemon bars. Do you want any?”

“Can I have another lemon bar?”

“How many have you had today?”

“Shut up.”

Street laughs and brings you one, while you nibble on it quietly. He says the lemon bar is the winner and you agree.

The silence stretches on for a bit longer while the two of you drink and eat. To his credit, Street is pretty patient when he wants to be.

At last, the light tingling in your head from the wine finally loosens your tongue to say what’s really on your mind.

“I’m tearing apart a family.” You can’t bring yourself to look at Street so you stare out the window at the glittering lights of the city instead.

“What’s the case?” Street asks quietly. You’re a social worker and Street has trusted you enough to tell you his story before. And of course, cops and social workers sometimes go hand in hand, and it’s never a kid who’s in a great situation. So you know Street gets it. It’s just hard what the two of you have to deal with at work sometimes.

Too hard.

“Mom and the kids used to be homeless, up in the Tenderloin in SF. They moved down here to LA to stay with a relative until they got back on their feet. Kids make it to school most of the time, and they are doing well. But Mom’s on and off drugs. I’ve met her and she’s so loving and so committed, but it’s hard for her to stay clean. We’ve been working with her and a program and it’s been going well, but Dad just got out of jail. The oldest had a panic attack at school because Dad came back to visit. And now, Mom’s back on her habit again and the court is saying she might lose custody if she can’t stay sober for 6 months. If she loses custody, I need to place the kids in a foster home.”

“Okay. You’ve handled, what, hundreds of cases like this by now, right, Y/N? What’s getting you about this one?”

You finally look at Street’s steady gaze and say what’s really on your mind.

“I feel like it’s gonna be my fault if the family breaks apart. She’s about to lose her kids, and there’s four of them. They’re all in a great elementary school right now and they love their teachers. I’ve personally visited them at school and they feel so safe and happy and supported there. They’re making good grades and their teachers are so patient with them and if Mom loses custody, I won’t be able to keep them in the same home, let alone the same school.”

You tip back the last of your wine and quickly pour another glass, trying to drown your frustration in the alcohol.

Street watches you quietly, before gently grabbing your wrist, and making you put down the bottle. Your skin is hot, but you tell yourself it’s because of the wine, and not his touch.

“Hey. It’s not your fault if the family breaks apart. You can’t control addiction and their situation.”

“Hah!” You laugh bitterly. “I know it’s out of my control. I’m freakin’ trained to not let my personal feelings get involved in my cases, but this one…I don’t know. It feels personal.”

“You feel responsible. And that’s because you care about them, Y/N. That’s not a bad thing.” Street encourages you earnestly.

You feel a hot flush creep up your neck and you quickly lean back into the couch, and immediately spill the wine onto your shirt.

“Shit!” You look down and there’s a purple stain blooming right on top of your chest. You hop up to go change while Street hides a chuckle by taking another sip of his beer.

“I saw that!” You yell over your shoulder.

“What?” Street replies, innocently.

You throw your stained shirt into the hamper and notice one of Street’s black SWAT t-shirts folded neatly on top of the dryer. You decide to throw it on and it’s much softer and looser and comfier than you expected.

You walk out with it on as if nothing happened and you plop right back onto the couch.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” Street comments with surprise lacing his tone.

“It was clean. Can I keep it?” You ask jokingly.

“Uhh…y-yeah. I have more.” Street stutters out an answer.

When you came out in his shirt, it was the first time he felt his stomach flutter around you. There was something about the way you looked so…domestic? Comfortable? Relaxed? in his t-shirt, with a tiny pair of booty shorts and your hair up in a messy bun that just seemed so right.

Street clears his throat, trying to shove those unexpected feelings down.

“Anyway. Like I was saying. You’re frustrated because you care about them. You’re a great social worker, Y/N. I know you’re gonna do right by those kids. As best as you can.” Street compliments.

You hate compliments so you take another sip of your wine and mumble into your glass, your cheeks turning bright red.

“Shut up.”

That only encourages Street to double down with even more honest praise.

“I mean it, Y/N. You’re good at what you do because you actually care about the kids. I mean, if you were in charge of my case, I bet I wouldn’t have ended up in half the foster homes I did growing up.” Street continues.

“Shut up, Street.” You look up to glare at him and you lightly shove him in the arm. You really really hate compliments. Especially when it comes from such a genuine place of heartfelt encouragement. Gross.

“Hey, I’m just telling the truth.” Street puts his hands up in surrender, trying to calm you down. “If I can see how hard you work and how much you care, I’m sure the kids can too. They know you’re on their side. No matter what happens, they know you fight for them. Every day.”

“Jim, shut up!” You burst out, and you find yourself half in Street’s lap, your right fist balled up in the collar of his t-shirt. He’s leaning back on the couch, his hands still up and his eyebrows raised in shock.

“S-sorry, did I take it too far?” Street starts to apologize, but you cut him off.

“Shut up…” you whisper, eyes locking with his. “And kiss me.”

Street immediately brings his hand down to your face and gently tilts your head for a tender kiss.

You enjoy his gentle touch for about two seconds before you break it off and you’re so embarrassed you can’t look him in the eye.

What the hell was that?

“I-I’m sorry, shit, I don’t know what came over me, I must be drunk.” You stumble off, grabbing your wine glass and dumping the rest of the drink down the kitchen sink. Street quickly scrambles up to follow you into the kitchen.

“Hey, look, Y/N –” Street starts but you interrupt him by whipping around with the detachable faucet head in your hand.

He takes a step back, unsure of what in the world you’re doing.

“Spray me.” You state as if this were a perfectly normal situation.

“W-what?” Street stutters out.

“I said, spray me! I need to sober up.” You grin at him, trying to hide your embarrassment at what just happened with your freakin’ roommate of all people.

Street finally catches on and grins back at you. He grabs the faucet head and aims it at you and you take a step back, immediately regretting your strange request.

“Don’t make a mess.” You hesitate.

“You asked for this,” Street laughs, and sprays you right in your face.

You half sputter out water, and half laugh, shaking your head like a wet dog.

“Okay, okay! I’m sober! Goodnight, Street!”

You run off to the shower and go to bed, leaving a bewildered Jim Street staring at the wet footprints you left behind all over the apartment.

…

“Oh. That kiss.” Street looks up at you and shrugs. “I completely forgot about that.”

“You…forgot.” You state flatly, not believing him for a second.

“Yep.”

“Street, we’re roommates and that kiss complicates things.”

“Why would it complicate things? You said it, you were drunk. Let’s just forget it.”

You stand up as Street starts walking out of the kitchen, following him.

“Jim. Stop it.”

He pauses at the entrance to the living room. Where everything went wrong last night. He turns slowly in his sock-clad feet to look at your flushed face and irritated stance with your arms crossed over your chest. You only use his first name when you’re being serious.

“Okay, fine. So what, you wanna discuss why, as roommates, we shouldn’t be kissing?” Street states with a hint of sarcasm.

“This is embarrassing enough.” You huff out a scoff. You can’t believe him! “Do I really have to spell it out for you? I asked you to kiss me. That means, whether I like it or not, there’s something there.”

“Y/N. You were drunk. I wasn’t.” Street’s voice has dropped to a low volume, and he steps even closer to you. “So when you asked me, I chose to kiss you.”

“And I kissed you back. And I liked it.” You admit in a hushed tone.

“I liked it too.” Street unexpectedly replies.

“I thought you said you didn’t remember.” You shoot back at him.

“Of course, I remember.” Street says indignantly. He rubs his hand over his face in exasperation and sighs.

“So… what now? Does this mean one of us should move out? I mean, we can’t go back to how things were before. Maybe I could crash at my sister’s for a bit until we figure things out–”

“Y/N, Y/N, stop. You’re making things too complicated.”

“Well, what am I supposed to–”

Street cuts you off by pressing his lips against yours. His hand reaches up to caress your face, just like last night, and you grab his wrist, not to pull him away, but to hold yourself steady. As if you couldn’t believe this was really happening. Again.

With a small gasp, you break it off.

“We should stop.” You breathe out.

“I don’t want to.” Street murmurs quietly.

“Me neither.”

With that, you find yourself slammed into the wall, your hands wrapped around the back of your roommates’ neck, kissing as if your life depends on it. Street’s unshaved stubble scratches at your soft skin, a sensation you never knew you would enjoy. His lips dance against yours deliciously, as you tease and bite him, trying to savor how he feels against you.

This is bad. You’re getting really turned on. But you feel a hard log bump against your leg, and you know you’re not the only one getting aroused.

Before you lose your nerve, you sneak a hand in between your bodies and feel Street through the flannel of his pjs, and his thick length starts to harden in your hand.

“Mmph! Y/N…” Street groans against your mouth and you know you’re doing something right.

But he returns the favor by feeling up your chest, pulling off your hoodie and exposing your bare breasts from under your bralette. He immediately palms your sensitive nipples in one hand, while the other tucks into your shorts, seeking out your wet core.

Your breath starts coming in pants, combined with quiet mewls of arousal as Street rubs your pussy through your panties. You press your back against him, one of your hands gripping his wrist that is still locked onto your breast, while the other continues to rub his member.

“Oh god, Street, this feels–” you can barely get a coherent sentence out when Street turns you around and presses you up against the wall, pulls down your panties, and proceeds to eat you out.

You cry out at the new sensation, his hot, wet tongue dancing inside your folds. Your shaking thighs can barely keep you upright, so you try to steady yourself by gripping the short brunette hair on Street’s head. That only serves to turn him on even more, and he starts sucking on your clit. The pleasure makes your head spin and you can’t stop moaning at his relentless attack on your pussy.

Soon enough, you slide down the wall in a crumpled heap, but not before you grab Street’s pants and pull them down during your descent.

You don’t dare make eye contact with him. Instead, you simply stroke his thick length, weighing it in your palm, and you lick a wet stripe up to his tip. Street rewards you with a deep, gravelly moan, and you quickly suck him down your throat. You can taste him, a mix of saltiness and sweat, and your feral mind goes crazy.

You love the feel of him under your tongue, and Street grabs your hair into a loose ponytail, his eyes closed with pleasure. You bob your head up and down on his cock, trying to breathe through it all, and taking him as deep as you can.

Street finally pushes your shoulder back in a wordless gesture to stop. You look up at him with a grin, and swipe the back of your hand across your mouth. Before you can get a word out, Street pulls you up roughly and grabs your ass, spreading apart your cheeks.

You know what he’s aiming for and you brace yourself on the wall.

“Shit!” You hiss out your favorite swear word as Street enters your dripping pussy. He wraps a muscled arm around your ribs and you quickly grab onto him as he shakes your whole body with violent thrusts. His hips lift up into yours, making your ass jiggle and the skin of both of your bodies clap together sinfully. Jim Street fills you up so well, and it feels nothing short of incredible.

“You’re so–mmm!---so wet for me, Y/N.” Street grits out between clenched teeth. You’re about to reply when he spins you around again, and scoops you up in a delicate balancing act.

You let out a yelp while Street drops you right onto his cock, his thick thighs and bulging biceps keeping the both of you upright.

You’ve never been with a man who was strong enough to do this before, and you’ve definitely found a new favorite sex position.

“Ah! Street!” You gasp out at each thrust. “Don’t drop me!”

“I won’t.” Street promises, spearing you with his cock over and over. You roll your body against his, trying to get him to go deeper each time, while your ankles lock behind his waist. He even manages to kiss you again as he bounces you on top of his thick member.

After a moment, Street finally lets you go, and you slip down, almost losing your footing.

He laughs at your clumsiness. “Couch?”

“I think it’s a little safer.” You tease him, swiping back your messy hair away from your face.

Street hops over the couch and you roll your eyes at him showing off his athleticism. You walk around it, like a regular person, and you see him laid back, legs spread, arms crossed behind his head.

“Someone’s ready for more.” You laugh at him, kissing him on the cheek. As much as you tease him, you know you aren’t satisfied yet either.

So you climb on top, carefully sinking down onto his erect cock, and you sigh at being filled to the brim once again. You waste no time rolling on his lap, over and over. Soon, that motion graduates to bouncing on top of him, your voice coming out in little yelps that drives Street crazy with lust. He grips your hips, helping you land just right every time.

“Hold on, Y/N, just hold on a second.” He taps your ass and you pause.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You pant out, your heart racing from the sex and the exertion.

Street slides down from under you until he’s sitting on the carpet and your dripping center is right above his face.

“I want to taste you.” Street breathes out, his hot exhale tickling your wet folds.

“Oh shit.” You whisper, and your face flushes, as if your skin couldn’t get any hotter by now. So you grant his wish and you gently lower your pussy onto his face, trying not to smother him. His expert tongue penetrates you, finding your slick opening and stimulating you to the point that you think you might pass out. You let out a feral cry, your body making the dirtiest squelches you’ve ever heard, and your voice becomes a mess of feeble noises you didn’t think you were capable of.

Who knew that Jim Street was so good at eating pussy?

Your orgasm sneaks up on you suddenly, and you simply bite your bottom lip and start quivering. The sensation is so overwhelming that you can’t even speak. But you’re sure Street realizes what’s happening because he stops and cups your vibrating center with his hand, holding you still, and he kisses you with lips wetted by your arousal.

You finally let out a moan, and he lays you back down onto the couch. Meanwhile, he gently enters your pussy with his digits, quickly becoming coated in your cum. He spreads it around, scissoring inside of you until you're a mewling mess once again.

He reaches out to palm your breasts, never ceasing in his quest to truly ruin you for anyone else. You inadvertently let out a whimper of pleasure as his hands work their magic. God, his touch lights your skin on fire!

“Street, oh my god, that was good. So good.” You praise breathlessly, gripping the back of his neck as you press your forehead to his, your chest rising and falling rapidly under his rough hands.

“I know. You came really hard. It was hot.” Street smirks at you and you’re too spent to tell him to shut up.

“Can I…” you feel almost too shy to say it aloud, but you do it anyway. “Can I make you cum?”

Street groans at your request, before nodding quickly. You carefully lift up a leg over his shoulder and he braces his arms beside your head. He lines up his throbbing member against your slick entrance and proceeds to rail your body like a doll.

He slams into you deeply, pulling and pushing through your hot pussy that grips him like a vice. Your juices soak him so that every penetration is quick and easy, so much so that he makes your butt lift off the couch with each thrust. Before you know it, Street’s movements get faster, and even more frantic, an unmistakable sign that he’s close.

“I’m gonna—!” Street growls out, his abs clenching as he uses all of his strength to thrust into your throbbing core.

You both let out a moan at the same time. Street pulls his member out of you and cums all over your chest and stomach, his pearls painting your skin as the two of you try to catch your breath.

Sweat makes both of your skin glisten and you carefully sit up, draping your legs over his lap, and wrapping your arms around him. You lean a tired head on his shoulder, cuddling your naked body into his large one.

He wordlessly reaches up a hand to hold your arm, the other is rubbing soothing circles on your thighs with his thumb.

You stay wrapped up in each other for a few minutes, quietly breathing in and out.

When your heartbeat finally calms down, you look up at him, only to find that Street is already looking at you.

“Plans today?” You ask nonchalantly.

“Nope.” He replies, just as casually.

“Dinner?” You offer.

“Sounds complicated.” He teases you.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise and you shove him off the couch. He tips over easily and falls over onto the floor, totally caught off guard.

“Shut up, Street!” You exclaim, running off towards the shower.

“And kiss you?”

You whip your head around just in time to catch Street’s grin that takes up his whole face, making his irresistible dimples even more apparent on his cheeks.

You take one look at his stupid face and you know that it’s not complicated at all. You’ve fallen for Jim Street. Simple as that.

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

[libraryofloveletters]

Fluffy Friday. Being a long time friend of Street and he convinces you to be his fake girlfriend to make Chris jealous

loveeee this // category: fake dating 

---- 

“C’mon.” Street followed you into the locker room. “Do me this favour, how many times have I covered your ass with Hondo?” he begs you, sitting on the bench as you open your locker. 

“That was once and who’s fault was that? You’re the one that insisted on doing shots the night before.” you roll your eyes at the man as you changed your clothes. 

You were standing in the locker room with just your jeans on, rubbing the lotion onto your arms. “I can feel you staring James.” You hum, and he looks away blushing. 

“Okay but will you just help me out? She won’t even look at me, y/n. Please?” You knew Street was pining over Chris but Chris wasn't stupid, she knows that you two are close friends and nothing more. 

You sigh, turning to the man. “Fine, but you owe me.” you tell him, pulling on your shirt. Jim pulls you into a hug. “Thank you.” 

--

The two of you arrived at Deacon’s house a few minutes after the others. Annie opens the door and lets you two in, telling you both how everyone is outside. You follow her out but not before you grab Street’s hand, interlocking fingers with him.

“Hey!” Deacon smiled at you both as you sit down next to each other. The team shared some looks as Street puts his arm around you, pulling you into his side. 

You two were close, affectionate too but never in front of the team so it was odd for them to see you two like that. 

You reach for a thread on Street’s shirt, pulling it off. He glances down at your hand and then looks at you, smiling lovingly. Deacon can’t help but glance at Chris, her focus on you two. 

He clears his throat, “you two want a beer?” 

“Yeah,” Street smiles, “want one babe?” he asks you and you shook your head. “I’ll just have a sip of yours, I don't want a whole one.” 

Deacon hands a beer to Street before walking off to help Annie with something. “So, how was the drive over? Y’all take y/n’s car?” Luca asks and you shook your head. 

“Jimmy’s bike.” you tell him. Hondo’s brows furrow, “he can barely fit on there, how’d two of you manage that?” 

“Just sat real close.” Street answers, taking a swing of the beer before handing it to you. 

Hondo nods, humming. All focus moves to Chris when she suddenly shifts in her seat, the chair making little creak. Street leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispering. “Think it’s working?” 

You hum, standing. “I’m gonna go see if Annie needs any help,” you say to Street, your hand cupping his cheek before you lean down and give him a kiss. 

“Shout if you need me, baby.” you flash the man a smile before walking off towards the house. 

#fun fact I didn't know his first name was James until I googled it LMAO #jim street #jim street x reader #fluffy fridays

[twistnet]

cold [ jim street ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; you’ve come down with a cold, and jim steps in to take care of you 

⋯ PROMPT ; [ pharmacy note ]  you or your lover come down with a sickness, and one of you runs to the store to get them anything they could possibly need

⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, slight angst [ mentions of sickness + colds ], general fluff [ comfort + kisses ] + mature language 

it’s nearly midnight in los angeles. and jim, dressed haphazardly in sweatpants and a t-shirt, stands in the drugstore cold and flu section overlooking all the medications. he’s tired, and not entirely sure what to get that doesn’t taste like shit, or help you out with what you're dealing with. but, he knows you need it, otherwise you’ll be up all night just trying to breathe.

so, he grabs what looks good -- something for your fever and cough, before trialing down the aisles to grab something to keep you hydrated through the night. he chooses a soup and soda. adding in one of your favorite snacks as a little something extra before making his way up to the register.

he’s out of the store in less than two minutes, all his items wrapped tightly in the paper bag the guy behind the counter had given him -- who looked nearly as died as he did, but he neither of them commented on the others appearance. jim was sure he’d seen worse.

he sneaks back into the house, desperately trying to not wake luca who’s sleeping soundly in his room down the hall. while also thinking of you, just in case you had somehow managed to fall asleep before he mad it back home with all your goodies. however, he finds you seated up right, eyes glued to the tv as it plays re-runs of full house with the volume turned the lowest it can go so you can still hear everything, but not wake luca.

“hey, babe. got your stuff.” he utters as he enters the bedroom, closing the door tightly behind him before dumping the contents onto the bedspread, “i got you something for the fever and cough, and some snacks in case you’re hungry.” you make a hum of appreciation, grabbing the two medications and quickly popping them open.

you read over the back labels, before pouring out the correct amount for your cough medication, and then a pill for the fever. jim disappears for a moment, grabbing a glass of water from the bathroom to make it easier for you to wash the medication down.

he watches as you make a face, the horrible cherry flavor of the cough syrup nearly making you gag as jim chuckles softly, “i thought the cherry was better than the grape...”

you shake your head, “no, both are just as horrible. but i’d take the cherry shit over the stuff that tastes like jager.” you make another face, before quickly chugging some water to wash the rest of the medication off your tongue. then the fever pill goes down and you plop back against your pillows, “i hate being sick.”

jim nods, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead before picking the medication up and dropping it onto your bedside table, “yeah, least it’s something pretty simple to deal with. you’ll be back up and running in a few days.” he mutters, climbing into bed with you before snuggling into his pillow, “if you need something, just wake me up.” you nod and settle in, pulling the blankets up to your chest before dosing off yourself. 

the next morning, jim is getting ready for work. his eyes glancing over at you as you take another round of your medication for the morning, and still getting a slight kick out of seeing your face scrunch up after taking the cough syrup, “you never get use to it, huh?” he smiles, pressing another kiss to your forehead. already happy to see the your fever has started to come down.

“it’s always been nasty. if i hated it as a kid, what makes you think i’m gonna like it as an adult?” jim chuckles, pushing a plate of toast and eggs in front of you with a smile, “eat something. it’ll help you get better.”

“i’m gonna head out to work, you need anything, just call me. i’ll bring it home after call.” he offers, noting your hesitant smile as you look up at him shyly, “so, you’ll bring home some indian food from that place we like?” 

“yeah, i can do that. just text me if you want anything outside our normal order, and i’ll bring it home.” he smiles, watching your eyes shine brightly before a final kiss is dropped to your hairline and he bids his goodbyes.

“that didn’t take any convincing.” luca comments from his truck, smiling at his friend as jim shakes his head, “i would do just about anything for her. don’t act like you wouldn’t if that was your girl in there.” jim comments back, before tugging on his helmet. yeah, he’d do just about anything for you.

blog navigation ⇢ [ swat masterlist ]

#swat #swat x reader #swat imagine #jim street #jim street x reader #jim street imagine #female!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2022 #twistnet's 5th anniversary

[marerosa]

ೃ༄ in his veins ☽

|| jim street x afab!reader

summary: street wants you, all of you

notes: here it is @blathannabeaga

warnings: knives, cutting, blood, blood kink, pain play, dark!street, swearing

-

The blade is cold on your skin as it trails closer to your wrist, the tip spins when Street reaches his desired place, not yet pressed far enough to draw blood but you know that won’t last. A second passes where Street looks to you, eyes dark and swarming of that lustful look he gets at times like this.

“Go ahead.” You encourage softly, making sure to relax your arm that’s being held down by Street's hand.

Finally, the knife slices across your body, blood starting to trickle at the edge of the cut. A whole new look of desire takes over Streets face, he dives in to taste you, his tongue swiping up all the blood you’re leaking. You suck in a breath when his mouth sucks harder at your skin, desperate to have you in his mouth, in his body, in his veins.

“That’s good baby, so good.” You praise and close your eyes, listening to the small sounds Street lets out as he drowns himself in your blood. The scars trailing up your thighs prove how much he likes this, but there’s something about him holding your arm down and staining his chin with you that is so much more satisfying for him.

He looks up a moment to catch his breath, mouth red and wet, blinking those big eyes to your mouth that gets consumed in a messy kiss within seconds. You moan at his free hand cupping the heat pulsing through your cunt, Street's other still pinning your arm against the silk sheets that’ll surely be stained wine red just like the last pair, you’ve given up on caring.

“Ah- that’s it, that’s it….” His mouth sucks at the slice on your arm again, moving his hand to pick up the knife, harshly dragging it right above the cut already sliced in your skin, a new wound appears that gains the same amount of eagerness from Street.

His tongue is greedy in the way it moves between the two cuts, trying to drain you of every last bit you’re willing to give, and you both know just how much that is. How far you’re willing to go for him, as he is for you.

#sammy writes #js #jim street #jim street/reader #jim street x reader #blood freak!street