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#leroy jethro gibbs
giadin-a · 3 days
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Ncis Fanart I participated in the NCISverse competition since I wasn't selected, I decided to share the drawing with you.
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i love the strict boss and his hyperactive tech analyst that he’s overly protective over duo
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coppertophomegurl · 6 months
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Every crime show has an episode:
A high school reunion murder
A killer with diplomatic immunity that still gets arrested through some outrageous loophole
There's always an episode where a psychic comes forward to help. Everyone will be extremely wary of the psychic except for one person. And the psychic will end up being correct.
Murderous twins. They're often separated at birth. All the investigators will make a joke about it being twins and then are SHOCKED when it actually does turn out to be twins.
Killer child. Literally just a little kid that kills (usually another little kid)
An episode that villianizes people with DID. (sometimes the writers do a 2 for 1 special and make one of the "alters" a different gender so that they can both villianize mentally ill people, AND make transphobic jokes 🙃)
Sleepwalking murderer
Murder by proxy via hypnosis. Similar to the psychic, most of the team will be very skeptical.
Someone finds a body in a time capsule
Some killer that just got like WAY too into Dantes Inferno
Murder victim that has multiple families/wives
Murder at a roller derby. This episode will usually give off big sapphic vibes
Feel free to add more!
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slutforsilverfoxes · 5 months
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Breaking Free
[A/N: I’m driving home for my externship (and Thanksgiving!) so you know what that means- too much time on the road to daydream 🙃 Pls enjoy Gibbs being an infuriating slut]
Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x female reader
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You repeatedly pat your boyfriend’s arm, pointing to his left at a sign that’s sure to snag you the win of your road trip competition. It’s become an annual tradition to pass the time by finding the most outrageous billboards on your way to Thanksgiving with your parents and Jethro’s father in Pennsylvania.
“That’s gotta be the best one,” you say confidently. “It even has a handcuff reference for you!”
The large sign promises that if you’re Shackled by LUST? then Jesus can FREE you.
Jethro grunts by way of acknowledgment then poses, “You scream oh my god a lot when I’m inside you- d’ya think that counts?”
“Not, like, a lot a lot,” you protest ever so eloquently, incensed by the smirk blooming on his face and his clever avoidance of admitting defeat.
Clearly your darling boyfriend takes that as a challenge.
The hand resting on your denim clad thigh begins creeping higher and you cut your eyes over to Jethro to find his focus is still dutifully on the expanse of highway ahead. “Whatcha doin’ there, Jay?”
“Driving,” he answers easily, hand moving higher yet. The corner of his lips visible to you arches upward when he meets the cool metal of the button on your jeans, but his smile falters when he fumbles to get it open. “Little help here?”
Raising one eyebrow, you counter, “You wanna prove a point, you put in the work, mister.”
He huffs out a breath, then twists his wrist and finally succeeds in popping the button open with a triumphant laugh. Jethro doesn’t even bother to try with the zipper after that; he simply shoves his hand into your pants so the zipper gets forced down its track.
You gasp when his fingers slide through your folds, and Jethro produces a quiet growl in the back of his throat when he finds you already wet for him. That sound alone has you moaning out a low, “Oh my god,” and your boyfriend outright laughs at you while his middle finger circles your clit. “That was only once- oh fuck, oh my god- okay, twice, you jerk,” you feebly defend yourself.
Jethro sinks two fingers knuckle deep into your pussy with an amused hum, and you slap your palm against the roof of the truck while crying out a third iteration of the deity-invoking phrase. “I can’t- oh fuck me- stand you sometimes,” you bite out, lifting your hips to help Jethro’s fingers slip in and out of you with ease.
“Good thing you’re sitting then,” he fires back, chancing a glance away from the road to smirk at you.
You draw your bottom lip between your teeth in a feeble attempt to muffle your cries, but Jethro brushes his palm over your clit while curling his fingers and another breathy, “Oh my god,” slips out of your traitorous mouth.
“That’s it, baby,” your boyfriend praises you, no longer bothering to mask his delight. “Free yourself from those shackles.”
A laugh punches out of you that morphs into a wanton moan when he curls his fingers again, and your cries rise higher and higher in pitch until you’re clenching around Jethro’s fingers, calling out a litany of curses with a healthy dose of his name mixed in. You drop back into the seat, boneless, with a final, “Oh my god.”
Jethro slips his slick-coated fingers out of your still throbbing cunt and points out your window to another billboard flying by, then runs his sinful tongue along his fingers, groaning at your taste. “I’m always right,” he asserts with a content hum, “and I win.”
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LJG tags 🖤 @ilovemark1951 @doctorwhofan24
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ncis-best · 2 months
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Gibbs: Y/n did you slap Tony?
Y/n: no….
Tony: Yes you did!!!!!
Y/n: nooo I didn’t
Tony: YES YOU DID.!!!!
Y/n: NO I DIDNT!!!!
Tony: YES YOU DID!!!
Y/n: YES I DID!!!
Tony:NO YOU DIDNT!!
Y/n: see Gibbs I didn’t.
Tony: wha-
Gibbs: good girl.
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special-agent-sass · 7 months
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Elevator Passions
Warnings
Smut
Y/N sauntered into the bullpen, leather jacket squeaking as she walked. She headed straight for her desk, not making eye contact with anyone. The rest of the team watched her warily. Ever since her blow up with Gibbs last week, she'd been quiet and closed off.
Tony sidled up next to her desk. "So, Y/N/N, you coming out with us tonight?" He gave her his most charming smile.
She didn't even glance at him. "Not really in the mood, DiNozzo."
McGee piped up from his desk. "Come on, Y/N. It'll be fun!"
"Yeah, we haven't seen you outside of work in weeks," Tony wheedled.
Y/N finally looked up, pinning them both with an icy stare. "I said no. Now drop it."
Tony and McGee exchanged a look but didn't press the issue. Ever since Y/N had joined the team a little over a year ago, she'd been like a little sister to them. Former Marine, tough as nails, and beautiful to boot. But lately, something had changed.
Gibbs strolled in then, coffee in hand. "Gear up. Dead petty officer in Anacostia."
The team scrambled to collect their things. As they headed to the elevator, Gibbs grabbed Y/N's arm.
"You good for this?" His steely blue eyes searched hers.
Y/N yanked her arm away. "I'm fine."
Gibbs studied her a moment longer before giving a curt nod. They joined the others in the elevator, tension thick between them.
At the crime scene, Y/N immediately got to work photographing evidence while McGee bagged and tagged. Tony interviewed witnesses while Gibbs examined the body.
"Single gunshot wound to the back," Ducky pronounced. "No exit wound, so the bullet likely fragmented inside the body. I'll know more once I get him home."
Gibbs grunted in acknowledgment. He glanced over at Y/N, crouched low as she took photos. The sight of her ripped jeans stretched tight over her curves made his mouth go dry. Shaking himself, he turned back to Ducky. "Time of death?"
"Based on liver temp, I'd say between midnight and 2am."
Gibbs nodded, then went to check on his agents' progress. McGee had finished collecting evidence, Tony was wrapping up his interviews, and Y/N was scribbling notes about the scene.
Back at the navy yard, the team dug into the victim's background. Petty Officer James Rourke, 25, was a communications technician stationed out of Norfolk. No wife or kids, parents both deceased.
"Looks like Rourke had a bit of a gambling problem," McGee announced. "Some large cash withdrawals over the past few months that far exceed his salary."
"Owed money to the wrong people, maybe?" Tony speculated.
Gibbs turned to Y/N. "Bring up his financials, see if you can trace where the money was going."
Y/N's eyes flashed with anger. "You don't need to tell me how to do my job."
"When you're acting like a probationary agent, then yeah, I do," Gibbs shot back.
Y/N shot to her feet. "Just because I won't kiss your ass like Tony doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing."
"Hey!" Tony protested.
"You make one more outburst like that, you'll be riding a desk till you retire," Gibbs threatened. "You got that?"
Y/N stepped close until they were nearly nose to nose. Gibbs could feel her breath on his face, see the fire in her eyes.
"I could ride you instead" she taunted. "Clearly that's what you'd prefer."
Tony's jaw dropped. McGee's eyes bugged out. The bullpen went deadly silent.
Gibbs clenched his jaw, hands fisting at his sides. "With me. Now." He stormed off towards the elevator.
Y/N followed, chin held high. The doors slid shut behind them. Gibbs flipped the emergency stop switch, halting the car between floors.
He turned to Y/N, eyes blazing. "You ever speak to me like that again—"
"You'll what?" Y/N cut him off. "Spank me?" She stepped closer, breasts brushing his chest. "We both know you've wanted to bend me over your desk since I got here."
Gibbs swallowed hard. "It's against protocol." But even as he said it, his hands grasped her hips, pulling her against him.
"Screw protocol," Y/N hissed before crushing her lips to his.
Gibbs groaned into the kiss, backing her against the elevator wall. Their mouths clashed hungrily as his hands slid under her shirt, finding smooth, warm skin. Y/N nipped his bottom lip as she frantically unbuckled his belt.
Breaking the kiss, Gibbs rasped into her ear, "We shouldn't..." But his protest died as she wrapped her fingers around him. He shuddered, head falling back.
"I need this, Jethro," Y/N pleaded breathlessly. "Make me forget everything else."
Surrendering, Gibbs hoisted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist. Their clothes disappeared in a frenzy of tearing fabric and grasping hands. Then he was inside her, swallowing her cries with his mouth as he took her hard against the elevator wall.
After, collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap on the floor, Gibbs pressed a kiss to her hair. "I've wanted this...wanted you...for a long time," he admitted gruffly.
Y/N nuzzled his cheek. "Me too. Rules be damned."
Gibbs smiled and pulled her close. Protocol could wait. Right now, he had everything he needed.
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ncis-yp · 17 days
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Get in the Truck (Jethro Gibbs x reader) [SMUT]
The bullpen was quiet ever since you and Jethro had your big argument while you were out investigating a case and the pair of you wouldn’t talk to each other. Tony and McGee exchanged quiet looks of uncertainty as Gibbs walked in.
You sat now at your desk, fuming. You looked up at him as he passed you.
“You have a problem, (l/n)?” He asked. You hadn’t responded. “Do you have a problem, (y/n)?” You continued to glare at him. “I asked you a question Marine, answer me.”
“No.” You said coldly. His icy blue eyes staring right into yours. Two fiery glares being exchanged in silence.
“(Y/n) what exactly happened out there?” McGee asked.
“Yeah… I’m with McNosy on this one” Tony agreed.
“I said something he didn’t like. I did something he didn’t like.” you respond not looking up from your paperwork. They boys had receded back to their work, leaving you be… you obviously weren’t in the mood. Jethro clenched his jaw.
What felt like hours later, you grew bored of your filing work and grabbed the remaining 20 something files, you dropped them onto his desk. You locked eyes with him as they landed with a deep thud. You decided you would go toe to toe with you boss and boyfriend at the same time.
“Here Jethro. That’s for you” you say and grab your coat. “I’m taking my lunch break” you walked out. It was his turn to fume now. Tony and McGee looked at each other as they argument was waiting to break out. He glared daggers into your back as you stalked to the elevator.
“Boss…” DiNozzo began.
“Shut it.” Gibbs stood up and followed you. “You know (y/n) pretty stupid of you to tell your boss what you were gonna do” he said following you.
“Oh god Gibbs grow up” you reply walking towards your car. “Boss, boyfriend, what are you? You can’t play both roles at once you know”
You turned abruptly to face him.
“Yes I can” he replied. “You crossed the line”
“Oh, I crossed the line, baby? I crossed the line!?” You were now literally inches away from him. You could feel his body heat. “I wasn’t the one that started bringing out personal affairs into it. I wasn’t the one that decided it’d be a good idea to just, I don’t know, casually tell someone that “you’re always so belligerent (y/n) you don’t listen, the only time you’ve ever listened to me is in bed, and you barely do that””
Jethro couldn’t deny it, he was incredibly turned on by you. Your anger made your eyes sparkle, the way your jaw flexed as you glared at him.
“Im sorry I crossed the line (y/n) but you are not allowed to tell me how to do my job when I’m on the field because at work, I’m the boss.” He spoke. “You don’t listen. You don’t immediately do as I tell you, quite frankly, you have gotten belligerent.”
“Then fuck it out of me” you say through gritted teeth. “Fuck the belligerency right out of me”
“Get in the truck.” His eyes darkened. “Now. And (l/n) do not make me ask you again” you walked to the truck, he pushed you against the door and caught you in a heated kiss. Unlocking the door behind you. You undid your coat, and he undid his throwing it into the truck bed as you opened the door.
You got inside and scooted back as he crawled between your legs, closing the door behind you. His mouth reconnected to yours roughly. His hands followed the natural curve of your clothing as you moaned into his mouth. His calloused hands met the waistband of your pants as yours found his belt. You teased his growth as he assaulted your neck. He bucked his hips as he groaned.
“Fuck” you heard the desire in his voice.He made easy work of undoing your pants with an easy few flicks of his wrist. Unzipping his pants, he easily slipped himself out as you let your pants down.
He slid into you, a deep guttural groan leaving him. You moaned into his mouth as he roughly fucked you. Not wasting anytime in relieving himself and chasing to relieve you. The tangled moans that es the two of you would’ve been a symphony to any outside listeners.
Your moans and whimpers raised higher in pitch as he thrusted sloppier and sloppier as his orgasm neared. Hard thrusts earned him a rough bite on his neck.
“Fuck (y/n)” he groaned into your neck as his sporadic thrusts were being to speed up. Your walls clenched around him, causing a grunt to roll off his tongue. You were a whole other story.
You were actively losing your mind. Your composure had slipped, moans and curses slurred together as he fucked. Your own hand has drawn down to your clit to rub the circles you needed to make your body stiffen. Your mouth laid open in pleasure as you orgasmed. Cursing his name as he came simultaneously with you.
“God, (y/n)” he pulled out of you, grabbed a wipe from the pack he kept in the glove compartment. He cleaned you as best as he could before caring for himself. You laid on the truck seat with a dazed smile on your face.
“What gorgeous?” He smirked. As he opened the door and stood up. Looking around as he fixed his pants and boxers, pulling them up.
“Best sex I think I’ve ever had” you reply. You stood close to Gibbs and rearranged yourself . Your two bodies warm. You tuck in his shirt and zip and button his pants. He watched as you did so. You kissed him as you redid his belt.
“I think can top it” he shrugged.
“Hm. Top me tonight after dinner”
“Are you telling me what to do (l/n)? While we’re at work?” He questioned.
“No sir” you respond, teasing him. You giggled as you hugged him. He kissed the top of your head. He let go and the two of you began walking back to the office. Giggling and walking around like a goofball. Dickdrunk and high off serotonin.
“Report to the house by 1900 hours” Gibbs ordered. You smirked as you stood in place.
“Yes sir” you saluted him.
“What marine?”
“Yes sir”
“What time are you to report to the house, marine?”
“1900 hours”
“At ease soldier” the two of you laughed as you locked hands. He kissed your temple. “You’re my good girl” he whispered in your ear as you got in the elevator. You smile.
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Death of Me
It was official. You were going to murder your husband. How many times had you told him to be careful. To not put himself in harms way anymore than absolutely necessary. He’d always tell you not to worry while giving you that damn smile that had you believing every word he said. And now you were rushing to the hospital for the second time in the month because of a phone call letting you know that Jethro had been hurt.
Tim met you in the hospital lobby, bypassing the check in and you both entered the elevators.
“How bad is it Tim?”
“Well he’s recovered from worse but you’ll definitely need to keep him from overdoing it for a few days.”
You gave him a look before speaking. “Yeah. And I’ll teach him to speak Mandarin while I’m at it.”
Tim led you out of the elevators and down the hall to his room but stopped you before you headed in.
“Just a heads up. Since he came out of surgery, he’s been a little out of it. I think the Morphine is really kicking his ass.”
“Hm. Well better that than me. Thanks Tim.”
You gave him a grateful hug and walked into the dim hospital room. As soon as your eyes fell on him, all anger dissipated. He was asleep, shirtless and left shoulder bandaged up. His face was relaxed and breaths steady, letting you know he was genuinely getting some good rest.
Not wanting to wake him up, you quietly brought a chair over and settled in it before gently taking his hand in yours. Of course even a morphine induced nap couldn’t keep him from his hypersensitive senses as he stirred, eyes fluttered open. He looked around the room before his sapphire blue eyes fell on you and stared a second before chucking to himself.
“What’s so funny?” you asked, amused.
“My wife is gonna kill me.”
He might not have recognized you in his state of delirium but at least he knew he had a wife. You decided to play along, not seeing the hurt.
“Oh yeah? Because you’re in the hospital for the 2nd time this month due to your over brazen behavior?” you tried hinting, wondering if it would bring back some lucidity.
“Nope. Because you’re holding my hand. And she haaates when other women touch me.”
Now it was your turn to chuckle. “Well she probably just loves you too much to share you with anyone else.”
He nodded and let go of your hand, placing it on his chest while taking a deep breath.
“Yeah. She loves me. Even when I don’t deserve it..She’s great..I wish she was here..”
Your heart broke at his melancholy words, not wanting him to think you wouldn’t show up to visit and couldn’t help but reach out to touch his arm.
“Jethro. I’m your wife.”
“Right. And I’m the king of Shri Lanka,” he joked.
There wasn’t much you could do if he wasn’t coherent enough so you settled for just sitting there next to him. After a couple of minutes he fell back asleep and you took the opportunity to take his hand in yours again.
————
“Y/N?” someone spoke, waking you out of your nap. You picked your head up from the side of Jethro’s bed and saw him looking at you in slight confusion.
“Hey Gunny,” you greeted lovingly, sitting up and grimacing at the stiffness.
“Have you been here the whole time? What time is it?”
“It’s around 6pm. You’ve been asleep since about this afternoon. Surgery went really well, I’m sure you’ll be up and chasing more bad guys again in the next couple weeks.”
You got up to pour him a cup of water as he went to try and lift his bad arm, wincing immediately, making you roll your eyes at his stubbornness.
“I don’t care if I have to lock you in your basement for the next week Jethro but you’re going to let your shoulder heal properly,” you threatened, handing him the water.
“A week isn’t necessary-
You shut him down with a look that rivaled his own and he sighed in defeat.
“Oh by the way, do you remember talking with me earlier?” you asked curiously.
“No. What did I say?”
You laughed at the apprehension in his voice and took his empty cup to set it on the table.
“Well you had no idea who I was. And chastised me for touching you, saying your wife wouldn’t be happy about it.”
“Mm. I’d say that gets me a point in the honorable husband category,” he stated proudly.
You laughed and nodded. “You’re absolutely right. How about I make my famous Chicken Parm for us tonight?”
“I’ve got nothing else to do,” he responded with a small smile.
“Damn right you don’t.”
You gave him a well waited kiss and thanked the universe for the moment. You don’t know what you would do without him and you hope to never find out.
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thebaileybugle · 5 months
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Pushin
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Pairing: L. Jethro Gibbs
Warning(s): None but some handsome peepaw fluff
Request: Can I please request a Gibbs x F!Reader where the reader has Pneumonia and she just can’t stop coughing and Gibbs takes care of her and is just super sweet and soft with her <3 - Anon
A/N: Everything is coming out at the same time, the break was entirely too long but here are the pieces ya'll have been waiting for
You were typing away an email to Agent Pride to wish him a very happy Mardi Gras before a coffee cup was plopped onto your desk, only the bitter smell of coffee is nowhere.
"Drink."
"Gibbs, what is-"
"Drink. The damn. Tea."
"Bossy."
"Next step is sending you home early."
"But-"
"And I'd go with ya' t'make sure you don't pass out."
"Sir-"
"Are you pushin'?"
"Oh she's pushin boss" Tony said from his office with a wide smirk.
"Shut it DiNozzo! Let's go L/N, get your jacket- leave your files and bring your tea."
You sigh, well you try to sigh but a cough interrupts it.
-
You're in his passenger seat, blanket from the back seat thrown over your shoulders as you sip the hot peppermint tea.
"You can drop me off and go back, don't have to stay and take care of me." Shifting a bit, you look over to your secret lover. "Tony might get some dumb idea that's accurate to the truth."
"Don't matter, I'm the one that got ya' sick anyway." Jethro shrugs, steering the wheel to turn right.
"I told you I'd be fine without the mask." You fire back with a huff.
"I shouldn't have listened, I never do anyway why would I start then." He glances over and lays a hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "'sides, promised I'd take care of you, I'm gonna hold myself to that."
"Thank you, Jet. Rule 1 part two."
"So you did, read my rules."
"Shush and drive Jet."
-
Gibbs drove you to his home and cooked a nice sized pot of chicken noodle soup, followed up the meal with a bath. Now, you lay between his legs, head resting on his abdomen. His hands running through your hair as a Frank Sinatra track plays in the background.
"Are you supposed to be cuddling a person with pneumonia?"
"S'not contagious, sweetheart. Let me have this moment before McGee and DiNozzo start to call."
"In that case, gimme your lips."
"Yes ma'am."
--------
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writeandsurvive · 6 months
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Author's note: just a little Gibbs idea I've had in mind. Maybe I'll get back to writing for him more... :) maybe it's because I'm binging NCIS from the beginning again. I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible, hope I did well. Also, it's not proofread and I'm not a native English speaker.
Summary: you're babysitting your brother's twins by yourself and ends up calling for help.
Warnings: age gap, I guess?, talk of near death experience, taking care of babies, reader not wanting kids, siblings banter
Babysitting ~ Leroy Jethro Gibbs
"Are you sure you're up for this?"
"Seriously? It's the fourth time you're asking. We're gonna be just fine!" You reassured your brother, as you're sitting on the play mat your ten months old nephew and niece. If you were completely honest, you were a bit anxious about babysitting the twins all by yourself as it was the first time. But you couldn't let your brother know that, as he was already struggling to leave.
"All you have to do is feed them, change their diapers at some point and put them to bed." He got down to pick up his daughter, finally saying goodbye.
"I promise they will be alive and in one piece when you come back. Hopefully, tomorrow morning." You grinned at him before grabbing your nephew and gentle holding him on his feet. "Now go daddy, have fun." You said with a baby voice, like it was your little dude saying it. After one more kiss to his girl, he put her down and did the same with his son.
"It's just a work thing." He told you for the umpteenth time.
"Yeah, but the beautiful single mom from your office will be there."
"She left just a month ago. I'm so not ready to jump into anything." He couldn't bring himself to say the name of his wife and mother of his children. One day, she just decided that being a mom and a wife wasn't for her and she took off. Which is why you were babysitting that night.
"Don't jump into anything, just jump on her."
"On those elegant words, I'm out. Bye babies, I love you!" He sent them kisses as he was walking towards the door. "What are you doing?" He asked when he noticed you were following.
"Going to a party of course!"
"Don't leave them out of your sight! Even for one second!" He scolded.
"They are on their mat, playing!"
"And your niece is starting to crawl!"
"Just leave and bang someone."
"And you wonder why you're still single..."
He finally left but not without holding his shoulder after you punched him.
"Okay babies! We can do this, right?"
Turned out, you couldn't. Or at least, it wasn't going as smoothly as you thought it would. Shortly after your brother left, your niece started to cry her heart out, wondering why daddy wasn't there, for sure. Then, your nephew decided that he wasn't going to eat. The food didn't seem yucky to you but it was to him, and he thought throwing around and at you was funny. So did your niece. By this time, your brother had already texted you twice and you obviously lied. The little boy being covered in soft food, you decided to give them both a bath, hoping it'd tired them a bit. But they both were very much against the baby shower gel, and your niece pooped in the tub. Which made everyone almost throw up.
After a (very) long struggle, they were finally in their PJs, clean and ready for bed. You thought a break was coming, but your niece had a meltdown. Which caused your nephew to have one too. You didn't know what was wrong, you tried everything you could to calm them both but nothing was working. You contemplated calling your brother several times, but it was his first night out since she left and you didn't want to ruin it for him. After over an hour of struggle, you did call someone.
"Gibbs," he answered.
"How much do you love me?" You immediately asked over the crying. You barely heard him chuckle.
"I'm on my way."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you one!"
You didn't know how long it took your team leader to show up at your brother's house. But somehow, as you were trying to soothe the twins on your brother's bed, you felt a presence behind you. "How did you get in? You know what, I don't care. Help me, please, I don't know what to do."
Whether or not the twins noticed that there was someone else in the room, they weren't stopping. Gibbs got closer to you, look down at the twins. "First, you're gonna take a deep breath."
"They are crying bloody murder!" You exclaimed.
"The more frustrated and anxious you get, the more they'll cry." You felt his hand on your shoulder and his gentle squeeze. You closed your eyes, tried to block the noises and took a deep breath.
"Now, are they fed? Changed?"
You wanted to give him a snarky comment as you always do, but didn't have the patience for it. So you just said yes.
He grabbed your niece into his arms, "Grab this little guy and do what I'm doing." You followed his instructions. Holding and bouncing your little man a certain way. After the eventful evening, you almost missed how incredible Gibbs looked with a baby in his arms, how gentle and soft he was. Such a natural. You nearly stopped everything when you heard him starting to sing a lullaby. It was quiet and you could barely hear him above the crying. That's when you realized that only your nephew was still crying. "You stopped." He warned you. "Don't get frustrated, hon. Sing to him."
You took another deep breath and did as told. Slowly, your nephew was calming down. It was magic.
"Lead the way to their bedroom." He whispered.
He put down in the little girl in her crib, and helped you putting down the baby boy, as he noticed you were too scared of waking him up. You stayed there for a moment, silently looking down at them, Gibbs right next to you.
"It's official, I do not want kids."
Gibbs chuckled and slid his hand in the back of your neck, bringing you to him so he could kiss your hair. You took the opportunity to go for a hug and he gently returned it. It suddenly became much easier to breathe.
"Is the baby monitor on?"
You checked, and grabbed the part you were supposed to keep with you.
"I need to change." You said after leaving the bedroom.
"You can take a shower."
"Do I look that bad?"
"You look like you need to relax."
"True. Will you be there when I get out?"
"Yes, give me the monitor." You did and felt shivers all over your body as his long fingers brushed against yours.
"Grab anything you want from the fridge. I'll be quick."
"No rush."
It was one of the most amazing shower you've ever had.
You knew you didn't want to have children most of your adult life, but it just got confirmed. You didn't want this to be your daily life. You loved kids, and you loved the twins more than anything in the world, but you didn't need one of your own.
When you reached the kitchen, it was sparkling clean. The big mess from dinner was gone. The toys were put away. Gibbs had his back turned to you as he was doing the dishes. "I don't know if I want to scold you or kiss you." You regretted the last words as soon as they got out.
Gibbs looked at you over his shoulder with a smile. "You're welcome."
"Seriously, you didn't have to!"
"No problem! You accepted to babysit twins after the crappy days we've had at work."
"Yeah," you sighed, remembering the awful case the team dealt with and only closed a few hours ago.
"How you feeling?" He asked, turning off the water and drying off his hands.
"How you feeling?" You retorted, earning a shy smirk from Gibbs.
"I'm fine." He reassured you, or at least, tried.
You got closer to him, grabbing the hand towel for him to put it away, and locked eyes with this man you've been in love with for a very long time. "You almost got killed, Gibbs." You said barely above a whisper.
"It comes with the job." He just said.
"Doesn't make it okay when it's such a close call." You could see the scene again. The bullet rushing so close to his head. A few centimeters to the left and Gibbs wouldn't be anymore. That thought hurt. It scared you more than anything else. And you couldn't control the tears forming in your eyes.
"I'm okay." He said one more time, knowing that you needed to hear it. So did he.
You felt his arms slowly wrapping around you, and before you knew it, your face was buried in his neck, as you inhaled his unique scent deeply. You held onto him tightly. "I can't lose you. Not you. Ever."
But you would, one day. Him being older than you, you knew that and Gibbs definitely knew it too. Which is why he never acted on his attraction and feelings for you. He knew you were feeling the same, he knew you were in love with him - even though he couldn't understand why or how. He could easily have given in, and enjoy whatever moments with you. But he refused. He couldn't do that to you, nor to himself. Everyday in this job, he could lose you too. That bullet could've been for you and not miss. Losing Shannon - and Kelly - was the hardest thing he's ever had to go through, and he couldn't bare the idea of losing another partner, especially you.
Which was why he tried to get you to leave NCIS several in the past few years. At first, it was pointing out how this job sucks - he loves it but he's a bit of masochist -, how you'd be better off doing something safe. Then it was introducing you to someone who had move on from this job and never felt better. And lately, it was asking Vance to find you a desk job you would actually enjoy. But nothing worked. You were still there, by his side, in harm's way.
Would it hurt to give in just this once? He wondered as he felt you clutching onto him. You fitted so perfectly in his arms, you smelled so good. You were showing your vulnerability, which you rarely do, with anyone and Gibbs found it very appealing.
He was looking down at you, you were looking up. He could lean in a few inches and his lips would reach yours. He started to, very slowly. But before it happened, your phone went off. You rushed to it, not to answer but mostly to shut it down, after it would wake up the twins, despite them being upstairs.
"Seriously!" You said after picking up.
"Just wanted to check in. Are they safely in bed?" You rolled your eyes.
"Of course not, I told you we were having a party. Can't you hear the music? Do they prefer scotch or bourbon?" You saw Gibbs smiling.
"You suck."
"So do you. Go back, and enjoy your night out, idiot."
"Hey, wait. Are you--sure it's not too soon for me?"
"She left, bro. Screw her. Whether it's a one time thing or more, as long as you're happy with it, just go for it. You deserve some fun."
"Says you, who can't move on from her boss, even though nothing ever happened. I mean, I tried to introduce you to some nice pe--" you hung up before he could finish. You knew Gibbs hear the entire thing.
"I'm, uh, gonna check on the twins."
But he held you back. "They are fine." He whispered.
"You already knew, didn't you?" You could look into his magnificent blue eyes. "That's why you've been trying to get rid of me?"
He sighed and brought you closer. His nose in your hair, his lips against your forehead. "I can't lose you either." He whispered, returning the vulnerability you showed earlier.
Hearing those words, you didn't think twice. You lifted your head up and crashed your lips on his. Gibbs didn't have the strength nor will to fight it. He intensified the kiss quickly, backing you up against the wall, where it happened for the very first time.
First of many.
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cas-kingdom · 2 months
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The Night Shift
A/N: First NCIS fic! Decided to keep my OC's name instead of reader as I'm pretty attached to her.
If you're alone on V Day, here's some Gibbs. &lt;3
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Title: The Night Shift
Summary: What's worse than a sick Gibbs? A sick mini Gibbs.
Words: 2568
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It was two am, and Emmie Gibbs was tired.
She wrinkled her nose as something tickled at it and sat up to reach for the packet of tissues sitting dutifully by the pillow.
It was two am, and Emmie Gibbs was sick and tired.
Tony, the shit-stirrer that he was, leaned precariously back in his swivel chair to stare at her. If it weren’t for the squeak of the chair itself, she still would have noticed his sudden attention by the feeling of his eyes boring into her for perhaps the tenth time since they’d set up camp in the NCIS building about five hours ago. He was relentless.
Emmie paused. Tissue wedged in her nose, sinuses burning, she looked up and stared at him. Tony rose an eyebrow. Emmie hardened her stare. Tony, because he was Tony, purposefully leaned further back so she could see the exact moment he dramatically cupped a hand to his stupid little mouth and—
“Giiibbs!”
Emmie’s jaw tensed. Tony grinned in superfluous victory.
Another squeak, a more familiar one this time, and Gibbs’s swivel chair glided along the carpeted floor around the divider between the cubicles until he could see Emmie. She was still sitting up, looking quite the sight with a tissue halfway up her right nostril and her hair sticking at all angles. On any other day she would have responded to Tony’s pure gall by glaring him straight into the ground. But today was not that day. Today was a bad day. Today, her week-long, just-about-bearable cold had decided to manifest into sinusitis, and she’d woken with a face that felt as though tiny little men were mining for gold in her skull. Ducky had liked that metaphor.
Partly because she was absolutely awful at caring for herself when she was ill, and partly—mostly—because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on work if she was left to fend for herself at home, Gibbs had dragged Emmie into the office with him. She’d made her rounds all day—curled up on Abby’s little couch at first, then bundled off to an empty room when Abby found working in silence too impossible. At lunchtime, a meeting had been scheduled in the room, and she’d been forced to accompany Gibbs and Tony in the car to a naval base connected to the case they were working on, sniffling and groaning in the back seat like a Victorian child on her death bed.
And here she was now, at two a bloody m, lying on an ungodly amount of blankets, wrapped in Gibbs’s jacket and Tony’s hoodie, on the floor, feeling like her body was readying to explode. Life couldn’t get worse.
Unless you were acquainted with Tony DiNozzo. In which case, life could, and most certainly would, get worse.
Gibbs dipped his head and rose an eyebrow at Emmie. Emmie couldn’t do much in her defence but sniff. Hard. A slight protest only she had the guts to attempt. It was when he pointed a finger at her and motioned with it for her to lie down again that Emmie tossed her arms up.
“Do you know—” Another sniff—“Do you even know how hard it is to lie down and feel your sinuses drain into your throat?” Her voice was so nasally she couldn’t sound stern, even if she put every ounce of effort into it.
Tony, naturally, did not try hard to cover his amusement at that. He snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, spinning from side to side absently in his chair with the tip of his tongue held between his smirking lips when Emmie turned narrowed eyes on him.
“I was getting a tissue, FYI,” she said to him and only him. “So, you can stop being a kiss ass, Anthony.”
“Emmie.” Gibbs disappeared behind the divider again. “Back to sleep.”
Tony, meanwhile, gaped. “Kiss ass who?”
Emmie ignored him and shuffled back down again. She shut her eyes and swallowed. Already the disgusting stuff had decided the place it wanted to be right now was her stomach, and was meandering slowly down her throat towards it.
“You were being a bit of a kiss ass,” she heard Gibbs agree.
“Oh, come on. You said you wanted her to sleep!”
“Yeah, and I do.”
“But you’re gonna call me a kiss ass when I tell you she’s not sleeping? Kiss my ass.”
“What was that?”
“Sorry, Boss.”
In all honesty, there was nothing more that Emmie wanted least right now than to sleep. True, she was exhausted, but the part of her brain not currently still enshrouded in said exhaustion wanted to be up and active again, helping Gibbs with the case like her internship allowed.
And yet, the man still believed she needed her head on a pillow.
The team had been working on a case all day, one she didn’t know the specifics of. It wasn’t exactly often that they stayed in the office well into the night to continue their current case, but it appeared Gibbs had a weird feeling about this one. From the snippets of conversation that she’d picked up and actually retained in her decrepit brain, a potential witness was lying unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere, and Gibbs wanted to speak to him the moment he woke up, which, according to the doctors, could be at any time. That apparently required the entire team to stay behind which, considering the fact Emmie was currently holed up on the floor of Ziva’s empty cubicle, not everyone had complied with.
The moment Tony got out of his chair to help Gibbs with something and disappeared from her line of sight, Emmie eased herself into a sitting position once more. She reached for the tissues again, rubbing at her leaking nose with the sleeve of Gibbs’s jacket and not possessing the brain power to regret that decision. She blew into a tissue, paused to catch her breath, then—
“Gibbs.”
Emmie deflated completely. Wow. The world truly hated her today.
She looked up to see McGee walking in with a bag of takeout. He barely glanced at her as he passed, choosing to instead spend that energy alerting Gibbs to the fact she was, again, not lying down.
Before either Tony or Gibbs could come into view once more, Emmie sighed, stuck two bits of tissue in both nostrils, and scooted backwards to sit against the wall.
“Can’t breathe lying down,” she said before anyone could say a single word. “And I’m tired of being tired. I don’t want to sleep anymore. Leave me alone. Don’t talk to me. Shush.”
Tony’s head appeared around the corner, and he snorted again. Then the squeak of Gibbs’s chair as he got up. A rustling. A moment later he appeared with a takeout box in his hand, walking towards her. He lifted it so she could see, and she groaned, shaking her head. A corner of Gibbs’s mouth lifted but he wasn’t about to back down on this fight. He never did.
He knelt in front of her, close enough to see the pallidness of her face and the slight sickly tremble of her small frame. Emmie visibly relaxed when he reached out a hand to press against her forehead, the coolness of his skin momentarily dowsing the heat of hers.
Gibbs checked the watch at his wrist. “Another couple hours and you can dose up again.”
“Thanks.”
“Yep. ‘Till then…” He went to withdraw his hand, but Emmie’s own hand shot up and pinned his to her forehead.
“No,” she said simply.
“No to my hand leaving, or food?”
“No.”
“You gotta eat. You know the drill. Eat or sleep.” She grumbled something and Gibbs reached with his free hand to lift the lid on the box. The smell of warm chicken soup filled the space between them, and Emmie wrinkled her nose. “Come on, kiddo. It’s only soup.”
“I feel too sick to eat.”
“Sleep it is, then.”
“Dad—”
“Hey. The cure for alll Emmie-related illness is sleep. Always has been, always will be.” It was true. Gibbs knew his daughter better than she knew herself, after all. Everyone was different, but Emmie’s medicine was sleep until she could look him in the eye and confidently tell him she felt a bit better. If years of being a single parent had taught him anything, it was that.
With a bit of reluctance, he pulled his hand from her head and leant forward on his toes. “You don’t have to lie down to sleep,” he told her. “Here—” Emmie wasn’t quite sure what he was doing with the pillows and blankets behind her, but when he sat back and she turned as much as her aching neck would allow, there was a nice little DIY upright-bed against the wall. Gibbs, seemingly proud of his work, was met with a look of absolute discontent on his daughter’s face.
He puffed his cheeks out and glanced at the soup. “Aeroplane?”
“Seriously?” Emmie deadpanned.
He reached for the spoon, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Worked when you were a kid.”
“There’re a few keywords in that sentence, Dad. Are you trying to give Tony more fuel to embarrass me?”
Gibbs glanced over his shoulder. Tony had returned to his desk, leaning dangerously back in his chair to gain the best vantage point. The man had absolutely zero shame.
Gibbs jerked his head. “Check with the hospital about Lupin, would you, DiNozzo?”
Tony visibly deflated. Emmie sent him a smug look and he stuck his tongue out. Reluctantly, he wheeled back to his desk and picked up the phone. “Do this, DiNozzo, do that, DiNozzo,” he grumbled to himself. “Oh, while you’re at it, why don’t you polish my boots and write a thesis on my intellectual prowess, DiNozzo? Sure, I’ll get right on it, Boss!” He dialled the number and put the phone to his ear. “Should I get your laundry and your coffee too, Boss? Should I do—hi, there! Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS, calling for an update on a patient? Ryan Lupin. Yeah, I’ll hold. Thanks.”
“Dad.” Such an exasperated voice could only belong to the resident invalid, and after only a second’s hesitation, Tony—slowly—wheeled himself back, as far as the cord to the phone still held against his ear would allow. Emmie and Gibbs were still on the floor, the former looking most disgruntled at the spoon in the latter’s hand.
“I’m being serious,” she said then.
“So am I,” Gibbs said, “very serious. I’m being very serious right now. Soup?”
Emmie rolled her eyes, but a smile was pulling at her lips all the same. She shook her head. “Go back to your desk, old man.”
Tony’s brows shot up and he grinned. “Oohoohoo!” He was close to rubbing his hands together in sheer glee. “You gonna let her get away with that, Boss?”
“Lupin, DiNozzo.”
“I’m on hold!” The fact that Gibbs made no sign that he was going to pick his daughter up on her insult, when Tony knew that if he’d been the one to call his boss elderly he’d be getting a bit more than a slap to the back of the head, hit a sore spot. “Wait,” he said, looking hilariously appalled, “you’re actually gonna let her get away with it?”
Gibbs, defeated in this part only, dropped the spoon back in the box and put it on the desk. “I’ve been called worse,” he called back, “believe me.”
“Grandpa,” Emmie said.
“Thank you, Em, that’s very helpful.”
“Ninnyhammer, pillock, douche canoe, old man—”
“You already said that one.” Gibbs chuckled. “Douche canoe?”
Emmie shrugged. “Dunderhead.”
“Alright.”
“Ugly…nut.”
“Jemima.”
McGee, who’d since been silently working and eating at his desk, paused. Mouth open, forkful of noodles on its way, he turned confused eyes to the ground.
“Her name’s Jemima?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “How long you been here McGee?”
As soon as Emmie looked the slightest bit like she was about to resume her name-calling, Gibbs put his palm over her mouth. He rose a brow in warning. She blinked. Blinked again. Then—
“Aw, come on!” Gibbs’s face contorted into one of absolute disgust as a rush of air and wet stuff flew at his hand. He withdrew it immediately, holding it away from him, while Emmie sniffed and nonchalantly used the jacket sleeve again.
“You little crapbag.” It was the best he could come up with.
“What? You think I plan my sneezes?”
Tony, up until now quite enjoying the performance, rolled quickly back to the desk with the phone at his ear. “Hi, yeah, I’m still here.”
Gibbs stood and walked briskly to his desk so he could grab the stack of napkins the takeout had come with. “I don’t doubt anything when it comes to you.”
“Thank you.” Emmie rubbed at her red eyes with her hand and slumped against the back of the wall. Gibbs, coating his hands with sanitizer, watched with a knowing eye. He shook his hands and walked back around to Ziva’s cubicle, perching on the desk to look down at her.
“You’re sick,” he said.
“I know. And?”
“And, sick people eat soup, and they sleep. Okay? They don’t stay up at all hours of the night—nooo, no, no. I’m talking now, kiddo. I know you’ve been sleeping all day, I know you wanna get up and back to work, but that’s not happening until your fever’s gone. No point in fighting that, and you know full well. Clear?”
Any other day. Any. Other. Day. The protests were practically clawing at her throat. But a sudden wave of nausea rushed over her and she backed down immediately. Still, the thought of lying down again was awful, and the tired eyes she turned on her dad somehow translated that.
Gibbs sighed. “What’s it gonna take, huh?” Emmie didn’t need to think about her answer to that. She wasn’t even sure her expression had changed at all when Gibbs shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “No,” he said, “come on, now. I gotta work.”
This time, she did change her expression, putting it on in the way she knew worked best. Gibbs, naturally, relented.
“Fine,” he said, motioning with his hands for her to move over. She did, though admittedly it was a bit of a pitiful move with her aching body. He breathed a short laugh but came to sit in the miniscule space she’d made beside her anyway.
“Thanks, douche canoe,” Emmie whispered.
Tony put the phone down. “Still knocked out, Boss,” he said, pushing his chair backwards. When he saw Gibbs on the floor, arm wrapped around his daughter, who had her head on his shoulder, he crossed his arms over his chest and positively pouted.
“Hey, why do you get to sleep?”
Gibbs chuckled and shut his eyes. “When you’ve got a sick kid, I’ll let you sleep on the office floor with her. Wake me before Lupin does, would you?”
“How am I—Boss? Boss?” Tony threw his arms up in the air and shook his head, grabbing a notebook from his desk to doodle in. “Kiss my ass.”
“Heard that.”
“I wanted you to.”
Well, one thing was for certain. Gibbs may have won this fight, but so had Emmie.
NCIS Masterpost
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pathologicalrambler · 12 days
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it’s always the jock, the nerd and their dad
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withlove-amber · 2 months
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He Did The Thing
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gibbs x reader
“I’ll be right down Abbs.” Gibbs said, snapping his cellphone shut. As he made his way to the lab, he had started to wonder where (Y/N) had gone. She briefly mentioned something about going to see Abby for an update on the current case, but that was 20 minutes ago. He didn’t quite catch what she was saying, as he was on the phone with Ducky about an update on the case as well. The first thing he heard as he stepped off the elevator was (Y/N) asking Abby, “Did he do the hot guy thing where he puts his hand on the small of your back to get through a crowd?” “YES” the forensic scientist replied. “I don’t know what it is about that certain gesture, but when someone does it-” (Y/N) was interrupted by Gibbs asking, “What you got for me Abbs?” as he handed Abby a Caf-POW.
(Y/N) was starting to blush, and part of her hoped Gibbs didn’t hear the conversation, but the other part of her hoped very much that Gibbs heard the conversation. She’s had a crush on her silver-haired, steely-blue eyed boss, since she started working for team Gibbs as the new probie. But now, as a full-time NCIS Special Agent, she felt that having a crush on her boss maybe isn’t the best. But there’s something about the way his vivid baby blue eyes stare into (Y/N)’s when he’s talking to her, or maybe it’s how softly he speaks to Abby compared to the rest of the team. The ‘ding!’ of Abby’s computer brought (Y/N) out of her thoughts, and back into reality. Abby shared the new update, and Gibbs and (Y/N) went back upstairs to the bullpen to share Abby’s update to the rest of the team. 
The next bit of the workday seemed to go agonizingly slow. Half the team was waiting for someone to call them back, and the other half went through evidence and bank records. At a certain point, Abby called everyone into the lab, asking for help. She needed extra hands to help with something, and wasn’t sure who could do what to help. It felt a little crowded in the lab with everyone being there, but (Y/N)’s thoughts abruptly faded away when she felt Gibbs’ hand on the small of her back, while trying to navigate through the crowd. She wondered if he overheard the conversation between herself and Abby, and the smirk on his face confirmed her thoughts. After that flirtatious gesture, she started to wonder if there was a chance he felt the same. And the way his beautiful blue eyes stared into hers across the room, gave her a little more hope that one day there could be something more between Gibbs and herself.
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ash-whimsicalfanfic · 9 months
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Hope things are going well for you!
Could you do a Gibbs x y/n where there son falls at home and gets a broken arm and y/n feels horrible/guilty that she let it happen under her watch. He meets them at the ER where the son refuses to let him go and y/n won't meet his eye. On the way home he holds her hand and convinces there son that his cast is cool and he can ask others to sign it. When they get home he goes to play. Gibbs finds y/n crying asks him "why am I such a bad parent"
Bad Mom?
Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader
Word Count: 2461
Warnings: Mild language, blood, injury, gore, angst…
A/N: Hopefully, this is okay! I really enjoyed writing this! Sorry it took so long for me to get this done! Xx
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You hum softly as you continue working on the salad to go with dinner. Jethro would be home a little later, but you always make sure he comes home to a nice, relaxing dinner.
Your guys’ son, Maddox Leroy Gibbs, was upstairs playing with his newest birthday gift. Jethro had got him a wood-carving kit and now Maddox couldn't keep his hands off it.
All of a sudden, you heard thumps before the most pained scream you've ever heard. You dropped the glass bowl of salad, ignoring the glass shattering on the ground as you race towards the crying.
There was Maddox laid on the ground, cradling his arm. You fall to your knees beside him and gently grab him.
"Baby, hey, I need you to tell me what happened. What hurts?" You ask softly.
"M-My arm!" He wails.
You gently pull his hand away as your stomach flips and your throat tightens seeing blood and bone. He screams, wailing louder.
"Look away." You demand as you stand, picking him up as you grab the keys and your phone on the way out.
You barely were able to lock the door as you run out towards your car. You get him in the booster seat, grabbing the first aid kit and quickly taping gals over it loosely so he wouldn't be able to see it.
You hurry to the drivers side, starting to drive the way that Jethro drives. You open your phone with shaky hands and dial his number. It rings and rings until it says his mailbox was full. You throw the phone down in the seat next to you as your shaky hands grip the wheel tighter as you break every driving law to make it to the hospital.
You were out of your car, running to his side of the car as you swung the door open, picking him up and running inside. Immediately nurses flank you, having you place him on a gurney before your told to move your car.
You felt irritated, but you also understood. You quickly move you car before finding your way inside. You weren't allowed to go in the room with him as they had an officer on the way to question you. You knew they thought this was some abuse case, but it wasn't. You grab your phone dialing his number again and you kept dialing until he finally answered.
"Hon, I'm in the middle of a case right now." He says irritated.
"J-Jethro, h-he fell down the stairs and he hurt his arm really bad. T-They won't let me see him! They have an officer coming to question me because they think this an a-abuse case!" You sob into the phone, ignoring the nurses who gave you the stink-eye.
"Hon, I'm on my way. Do not answer any questions. Tell them your waiting on me." He says sternly.
Before you could say anything, he had hung up. You let your head fall into your hands as you cry harder.
"I want my mom!" He wails and you stand as you rush towards him.
"Ma'am, you can't see him until you've been questioned and cleared." A nurse snaps, pushing at you.
"He's my son! I'd never hurt him! Let me see him!" You snap, trying to push through towards your son.
"Mommy!" He wails.
"It's okay, baby! Daddy's on his way!" You say as tears fall down your cheeks and big burly security guards push you back towards the little sitting area in the hallway.
They cuff your hands behind your back and make you sit as you refused to leave. You looked at the ground, your head racing as terrible thoughts went through your head.
Jethro parks his car hastily, getting out of the car as his team followed him in. He tried to get them to stay and work on the case, but they refused. Maddox was their nephew and they'd do anything for the kid.
Jethro walks in, his eyes finding you. For a brief moment, he felt relief until he saw the cuffs on your wrists.
"Take the cuffs off her, now." He barks, striding towards you.
"Sir—now!" He interrupts.
The security guard fumbles with the keys as he roughly pulls you up before Jethro pinned him against the wall. Tony grabs the keys off the floor, undoing the cuffs on your wrists.
"Don't you ever put your hands on my wife like that again." He warns.
"Hey sweet cheeks, your okay." Tony murmurs as he hugs you.
"They won't let me see him." You mumble numbly into his chest.
"They will once Gibbs is through with them." He teases and you couldn't help the small shaky smile.
"Hon, come on." Jethro says.
You walk towards him, keeping your eyes casted to the floor. His arm wraps around your waist protectively as he walks towards the desk.
"Where is my son?" He demands.
"S-She needs to be questioned." The nurse says weakly.
"My wife wouldn't ever lay a hand on our son. He fell down the stairs, kids have accidents all the time. Let me see our damn son." He snaps.
"O-Of course, right this way sir." She says and starts to lead us towards the room he was in.
You hesitate and hang back towards the doorway as Jethro heads towards Maddox who was sat up in the bed with a light blue cast on his arm.
“Daddy!” He exclaims, throwing himself towards Jethro who chuckles and catches him.
You catch sight of stitches across his eyebrows and you let a shaky breath out.
“Careful buddy, you can take someone out with that thing.” Jethro teases which makes Maddox giggle.
“I don’t really like it. It’s going to stop me from being able to do my wood carvings.” He pouts.
“I think it’s a really cool cast. You can have people sign it even! And you can take a break from the wood carving, son. I’ll get you some more while you got the cast on so we can let the supplies build up.” He says.
“Okay! Uncle Tony, will you sign my cast?” He asks.
“Of course! I even so happen to have a sharpie on me!” He exclaims with a childish grin.
Your heart aches and you sit down as you watch Maddox with soft and sad eyes. Jethro was in the corner of the room, on the phone with director as he kept an eye on Maddox as well.
You look away from Maddox and at the floor when a nurse walks in. She looks at you as if you had the plague, in which Maddox notices and frowns.
“Why are you looking at my mommy that way?” He snaps.
The nurse was taken aback as you look up alarmed. You stand, walking over to the bed and reach a shaky hand out to brush his hair away from his eyes. You leave a kiss on his head.
“It’s okay, baby.” You murmur.
He looks at you confused. He was a smart child for his age. He definitely had his fathers profiling skills, that’s for sure. He looks back at the nurse, his eye narrowing as he latches onto you, hugging you tightly. Jethro was grinning in the corner as your lips part in surprise.
“Ma’am, we still have to follow protocol.” The nurse says in which your heart shatters.
“Protocol? Mommy, what’s she talking about?” He asks, looking up at you with Jethro’s blue eyes.
“It’s nothing, baby. Mommy will be back, I promise.” You murmur.
“No. I’ll be back, buddy. Mommy will stay with you.” Jethro says.
You watch confused as he leaves with the timid nurse. Tony throws an arm over your shoulder and smiles.
“Trust me, boss will handle it. Your a good mom, don’t let them tell you otherwise.” He says.
“Are they saying your a bad mommy?” Maddox asks confused.
“I-I, no…they just have to follow protocols they put in place to keep people safe.” You explain slowly.
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Thankfully, Jethro was back quickly and even somehow managed to get his prescriptions whilst filling out the discharge papers. Jethro sent the team back in the work car and was going to drive you and Maddox home. Tony offered to drive Jethro’s car home, but you settled on taking Jethro to work tomorrow as you felt guilty for calling him from work early.
Maddox was asleep in the backseat, and you were focused on the building and other structures out your window. Jethro kept glancing over, sensing you weren’t okay. He grabs your hands and squeezes it gently.
“Sorry I snapped at you on the phone earlier today, hon. I don’t want you to think you can’t call me. For now on, I’ll answer immediately if I’m not out in the field.” He promises.
“Jethro, I’m not upset you didn’t answer or that you snapped at me. I know your working on a case right now.” You say softly.
“Then what has you upset?” He asks as he pulls into the driveway.
“Nothing.” You lie, getting out of the car.
“I’ll get him. You get the door opened.” He says.
You nod, heading towards the door and unlocking it. You are greeted with blood on the ground and you immediately grab your cleaning caddy from the closet and start cleaning it up. Jethro walks in, holding Maddox. He frowns seeing your shaky hands scrub at the puddle of blood.
“Hon, I got that. Let me go put him in bed and then I’ll clean that up.” He says.
“No, it’s okay. I got it. Here, you go on up and I’ll finish this up.” You say quietly.
You move just enough so he can get up the stairs. He gets to the third or fourth step before looking back down at you concerned. His eyes find your bruised wrists and his frown deepens. He turns, focusing on getting Maddox up to bed.
“Daddy.” Maddox mumbles sleepily.
“Yes, buddy?” He asks softly, tucking him in.
“Why did the doctors think mommy is a bad mommy?” He asks.
“Because they are a bunch of knuckleheads and don’t know what a good mommy you have. Don’t worry about it, buddy.” He says.
“Daddy?” He whispers as he starts to fall back to sleep.
“Yes?” He asks.
“Can mommy give me a little brother or sister?” He asks.
“I…I mean, I’ll talk to mommy and see what she wants to do, but she loves you so much. I think she’s happy with just you.” He murmurs.
Little did Maddox know, Jethro was scared to have another one. He was scared to have Maddox after what happened with Shannon and Kelly. He barely let you in and then finding out you were pregnant nearly sent him over the edge. You loved kids and you want a whole damn school bus of kids.
Maddox goes to say something, but it was little mumbles before he was softly snoring. Jethro chuckles, brushing his hair out of his forehead before leaning down and kissing his head.
He heads downstairs to see the blood cleaned up. He goes to the kitchen where he heard you. You were sweeping up the salad and broken bowl into a pan.
“What happened?” He asks, taking the dust pan to hold it.
“When I heard Maddox scream, I just dropped the bowl and ran for him.” You mumble quietly.
“Hon, go take a bath and relax. I’ll finish the clean up. I promise you that Maddox is okay.” He says.
You hesitate, but with a stern look from him, you nod slowly. You head up the stairs, starting your bath. He finishes up the floor before he cleans up what would have been dinner. He does dishes and takes the trash out before deciding to check on both Maddox and you. He checks on Maddox first to see him sleeping.
He nears the bathroom before slowing his steps as he hears your muffled crying. He walks in and sees your face buried in your knees, suds covering your bits from view.
“Hon, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asks, kneeling by the tub.
“Why am I such a bad mom?” You sob.
“Y/N, what are you talking about?” He asks.
“He’s hurt because of me, Jethro. Those nurses had every right to look at me like that. I’m a terrible mom. There was blood, everywhere and the bone was sticking out. His screams…gosh his screams were so loud. I didn’t even notice he cut his eyebrow until I saw the stitches.” You sob.
“It’s not your fault, Y/N. He’s a kid and kids have accidents. Maddox loves to run throughout the house and we could tell him until we were blue in the face not to run in the house. He slipped and fell. It wasn’t your fault. You know how many times I got hurt as a kid? A lot. We can’t protect him from everything as much as we wish we could. Things like this will teach him why we tell him not to run in the house or why not to go outside barefoot. We can only do so much. Your an amazing mom. He knows so.” He murmurs, rubbing your back.
“I can’t even look at him. I feel terrible. It’s all my fault.” You whisper.
“It’s not your fault and you know that. He knows that and I know that. He knows your a good mom. He told me when he woke up briefly because he caught onto the way the nurses were treating you. He actually wants another siblings. He told me.” He says, sighing as he plops on the ground.
Your head flies up, your eyes wide as you look at him. You reach a hand out and grab his hand, rubbing it gently.
“You know we don’t have to. I know how scary it was when you found out I was pregnant with Maddox. I am perfectly content with Maddox and you.” You say softly.
“I think I might want another one. Maybe we’ll get a little girl this time.” He murmurs.
“Really?” You ask surprised.
“Yeah.” He says with a soft smile.
“Your such an amazing dad, Jethro. Maddox absolutely loves you. He always tells me that he wants to be an NCIS agent just like you.” You say with a soft smile.
“And your such an amazing mom. He tells me all the time. He also tells me how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you proud. Whether it be cleaning up his toys or helping with the groceries. He loves you and he idolizes you so much.” He murmurs.
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kdogreads · 9 months
Text
Imagine being Gibbs’ girl
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He tries to keep his rough exterior, but he totally melts for you
He’ll definitely dance with you in the basement if you ask sweetly enough, and even if he pretends not to, he loves just swaying with you to some old country loves songs.
(This would definitely play through his radio)
Or kiss every one of you fingers if you come home from work and say they’re sore.
He will put you back in the car if you try to open your own door.
He’ll learn how to put your hair in a pony tail or a bun if you hurt your shoulder and can’t do it yourself. Plus he’ll keep brushing your hair for you, sitting snugly between his thighs and enjoying his warmth, long after you heal.
He sings to you if you wake up in the night reliving your darkest times in your dreams. He’ll wrap you up as tightly as he can in his strong arms, strong enough to remind you you’re safe with him, and whisper the words to any old song that pops into his head.
He loves to leave you little notes by the coffee pot or on your bedside table when he leaves before you do:
Have a good day, my love. See you tonight
- J
You agree not to marry early in the relationship
You’d both been around that block more than once, and it seemed like that fancy piece of paper just complicates things.
Of course, you’re exclusive to one another, but you just can’t bring yourselves to risk changing what you have by changing your last name. It seems so insignificant when you think of it that way.
Most of your neighbors and friends just assume you’re married, anyway. So when a letter arrives in the mail addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs, you aren’t surprised. It makes you smile to see it on paper, but nothing is going to change your minds on this.
His love language is 100% acts of service
He’ll unload the dishwasher, fold the laundry, bring you home fresh flowers for no reason at all, have dinner ready if he somehow makes it home before you do one day. He rarely lets you bring in any groceries or luggage. Even though he knows you are tough enough to literally take him down, he wouldn’t dare letting you carry something too heavy or inconvenient.
Any little thing he can do to brighten your day, he does.
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In turn, the small acts you grant him, like taking his suit jackets to the dry cleaners, setting his shoes and thermos out for him before work, picking up a new book about boats, make him fall even more in love with you.
He makes you things
J will make you anything he thinks you might like. A wooden stand for your plants, a step stool when you mention that the bed is just a little bit high off the ground for you, shelves to proudly display your knick knacks, a sled for Christmas after you tell him you never had one as a child.
He’d even try his hand at a ukulele if you mention wanting to learn to play.
Of course he’s made boats named for Kelly and Shannon, but his newest project is adorned proudly with your name, sprawled across the hull in flowing letters.
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His hobby turns into more than just that, it’s his way to show you how much he loves you, and you soak in everything he’ll give you.
He’ll use his jacket to shield you from the rain
Jethro is usually prepared for anything, but rain can sneak up on you. In that case, he’ll peel his jacket off and cover you as best as he can. Even if it means he’ll get soaked to the bone, he’ll make sure you’re covered a least a little bit more than he is.
He tones down his crazy driving for you
The first time you got in the car with him, you about passed out from an anxiety attack. You don’t want to be a backseat driver, so you just grin and bear it for a while, but he picks up on your discomfort pretty quickly.
He slows down, starts using his turn signal, and stops cutting people off, but every now and then, when it’s late and the roads are empty, he’ll take you for a high-speed cruise just to get your blood pumping.
He’s much touchier than you ever imagined
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A strong hand on the small of your back, fingers ghosting over your exposed thigh, a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder when you’re uneasy, or just brushing against you to pass, even when there is plenty of room to spare.
Anything he can do to have his hands on you, he’ll do. You two are like a safety tether for each other, always there to make sure you don’t drift too far away.
As far as PDA goes, Jethro is pretty limited in what he’s willing to show the world, but he’ll always find a discreet way to connect himself to you. A brief brush of your pinkies, a quick kiss to your forehead, or a full-on embrace if you find a moment alone. Whatever it is, his touch still sets you on fire every time.
He is so gentle and fatherly to children
The two of you decided early on that you would avoid having kids. Given his past, you understand and agree to the arrangement. When you get together with your young nieces and nephews, though, Jethro turns into a total kid right along with them.
He’s quick to join in a game of cops and robbers, always quipping how it’s so much more fun being the bad guy, or plop down in the grass and find pictures in the clouds.
When someone takes a tumble or scrapes up their knee, though, he’s the first to scoop them up in his strong arms and hug the pain away. He’ll make them feel better with a story about when he hurt his knee, too, or how chicks dig scars (you always smack him playfully for that).
He makes a mean cup of coffee
You’d never thought of yourself as much of a coffee snob, but after tasting Jethro’s version, brewed slowly over the fire if time allows and mixed with the perfect amount of cream and sugar, you could never go back to any coffee shop again.
Same goes for his cooking. He doesn’t make much, but when he does, damn it is good.
“The secret ingredient is love,” he’ll joke to you, mocking your own phrase, and you’ll roll your eyes as the flavors envelop your tastebuds.
All in all, our man Jethro is basically the best partner you could ever ask for, and you love showing him how much you appreciate him.
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Tagging some of my LJG lovers 💕
@instantnoooodles @daphne-bourne @museofbooks @ilovemark1951 it won’t let me tag you :( @yestwlightfan
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slutforsilverfoxes · 9 months
Note
I need to say that your writing for Gibbs is absolutely amazing! I have a rather vague request; you get hurt whilst on a case which worries Gibbs. Go anywhere you want with it, a little hurt/comfort and fluff? I just need more of your writing 😄
You’re so sweet, thank you for the compliment 🖤 I hope this is what you were looking for!
—————
“Just what the hell were you thinking? No, don’t answer that, because it’s clear you weren’t.”
Your boss has been chewing you out for the past seven minutes, although it feels like an eternity since his ire turned on you. Gibbs has never yelled at you. Ever.
Chewing on your lip and focusing on a water stain in the ceiling, you try to keep your hot tears at bay. “We knew that I was his type,” you point out quietly in an attempt to defend your actions tonight. “And it worked, didn’t it?”
“It worked?” Jethro barks, and you flinch reflexively. He catches the movement out of the corner of his eye and stops pacing, opting instead to bend down in front of you and rest one hand on your knee. “Hey,” he offers now in a soothing voice, gently grasping your chin and directing your gaze to meet his. “I’m sorry for yelling. I wasn’t- I’m not mad at you.”
His large hand engulfs your cheek and you nestle into the familiar feeling with a sniff. “Sure as shit sounded like it,” you grumble, hastily swiping at your eyes.
“I was scared,” he clarifies. “Terrified, actually. We all heard you scream and then your comms went out, and what were we supposed to think?” His thumb grazes over the bandage on your forehead before he pulls you into a tight hug, and you let out a muffled, “I’m sorry,” against his chest.
“Don’t do that to me again,” Jethro breathes out, squeezing you tighter. “Or I’m sending you on the next weeklong stakeout as punishment.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and you pull back to look at him, one eyebrow quirked.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“With Tony.”
You gasp and cry out, “Gibbs!”
“I’m serious about this, Y/N.” His tone grows measured again before he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, just above the bandage. “I can handle the team taking an extra few days to catch our guy. I can’t handle you getting hurt on my watch.”
“I won’t do it again.”
“No, you won’t.”
You sigh and rub the soft fabric of his polo sleeve between your thumb and index finger before looking up at Gibbs with a sly smile, eager to lighten the mood. “Permission to speak as your girlfriend and not your agent, sir?”
Those gorgeous blue eyes narrow into a playful squint. “Granted, with hesitation.”
“Getting locked in that trunk for four hours sucked, but seeing you knock him out with a single punch kind of made it worth it.”
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