seen from Singapore
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Japan
seen from Sri Lanka
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Croatia
seen from Singapore
seen from Australia
seen from Argentina
Soft!Gibbs who finally went back to sleeping in his bed after all those years, but only with you. He won’t sleep there alone.
Soft!Gibbs who wakes up before you, just to roll over and spoon you. Arms snug around your waist, face buried in your neck.
Soft!Gibbs who refuses to let you up. You squirm and laugh, telling him you need to throw the laundry in and start cleaning. But he just squishes you closer, smile pressed to your shoulder as his leg tangles with yours.
Soft!Gibbs who loves to kiss you. Your neck, your cheek, stopping your words in their tracks as he kisses your lips.
Soft!Gibbs who loves to play with your hair and smiles at you so soft and adoring.
Soft!Gibbs who eventually lets you get up when he gets hungry enough, making breakfast for you and tugging you into his lap to eat.
The Expert:
Chapter 1: Quite Extraordinary
Ducky adjusts his glasses, staring at the carved symbols on the victim’s torso.
Tony and McGee stand behind him, waiting for the explanation.
But Ducky goes pale.
“Doctor?” McGee asks.
Ducky doesn’t answer.
Instead, he picks up the phone, dials an internal number, and waits.
“Jethro,” he says softly when Gibbs answers.
“I need you in Autopsy immediately.”
Gibbs arrives minutes later, expression locked.
“What is it, Duck?”
Ducky steps aside to show the symbols.
Gibbs studies them.
“Some kind of code?”
“Yes. A very old one. One used by a Navy intelligence sub-unit established in 1953.
Defunct now. Buried, I believe intentionally.”
Tony raises an eyebrow.
“How would anyone even know that?”
Ducky exhales.
“There is… this archivist I know. This is old and hidden stuff but if anyone would know it would be them”
Gibbs crosses his arms.
“Name.”
Ducky meets his eyes, voice quiet and grave.
“Y/N L/N.”
Gibbs frowns.
“Never heard of them.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
Ducky closes the victim’s cover.
“But I assure you, they are quite extraordinary.”
The bullpen is unusually quiet for mid-afternoon. Tony is perched on McGee’s desk like a gargoyle, waiting for the mysterious consultant. McGee pretends not to be curious, but he keeps glancing toward the elevator.
Gibbs stands at his desk, arms folded, eyes fixed on the elevator doors like he can will them open.
They ding.
You step out.
Calm. Composed. A backpack slung over one shoulder, a rolled sleeve showing a faint ink smudge from whatever document you were digging through when NCIS called. You scan the room the way a historian scans a battlefield, quietly, but with full understanding.
Tony hops off the desk. “This is them? This is the Y/N L/N? Ducky made it sound like we were calling the librarian of the universe.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Funny. You’re exactly how Ducky described you.”
McGee snorts. Tony’s face twists in offended confusion.
Gibbs’ mouth twitches, almost a smile, as he steps forward.
“Gibbs,” he says, offering a hand.
“Y/N,” you reply, shaking it firmly. He notices: your grip is steady, your eyes sharper than expected, and you don’t shrink under his stare the way some consultants do.
“Ducky says you can help us with our victim,” Gibbs says.
You set your backpack on the nearest desk and unzip it without ceremony. “Then let’s see what you’ve got.”
Tony leans in toward McGee. “She didn’t even say hello to me.”
“She got your personality from a single glance,” McGee whispers back. “Honestly? Impressive.”
You pull out a battered leather binder, well-used, pages thick with notes and cross-references.
Abby bursts from the elevator right then, energy and pigtails bouncing. “Y/N! Oh my gosh! you’re here!” She runs over and hugs you like an old friend.
Gibbs blinks. “You two know each other?”
“She’s helped me with obscure forensic sigils twice,” Abby explains, still hugging you. “Did you know she once found the origin of a chemical symbol used in a Cold War bunker? The woman is magic.”
You pat Abby’s arm, amused. “I just read too much.”
“Same thing!” Abby beams.
Gibbs taps the evidence photos clipped to the murder board. “These are what Ducky showed you.”
You step forward, eyes narrowing as you study the carved symbols. Your breathing stills. The room goes silent around you, Tony and McGee hovering behind, Abby at your shoulder, Gibbs watching you like a test he knows you’ll pass.
You lift a finger, hovering inches from one of the photos.
“These aren’t just markings,” you say softly. “They’re identifiers.”
Tony frowns. “Identifiers for what? A cult?”
You shake your head. “No. A unit.”
McGee’s eyes widen. “But that unit Ducky mentioned didn’t it dissolve in the sixties?”
“Officially,” you say. “This symbol here…” you point again “means the victim knew something. Or saw something. Something the unit didn’t want resurfacing.”
Gibbs steps closer. “What?”
You turn to him fully for the first time. He’s intense, focused, waiting for truth. You realize why Ducky trusts him.
You swallow once.
“Something that should’ve stayed buried, Agent Gibbs.”
A beat.
Then Gibbs says quietly:
“Tell me everything.”
NCIS | 4x8 | Once A Hero
Flowers for Mrs. Gibbs
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Gibbs x reader
Warnings: pure fluff
Dear @dreamy-state-of-mind, thank you for the wonderful prompt for this story. Enjoy!
Everything seemed normal that day. There was no case to solve, no special incidents and nothing. It was pure routine.
And it was normal for messengers to come and go. But it was unusual, however, for them to bring flowers.
The young man who brought them was apparently practical, because he stood in the middle of the bullpen and called out loudly:
“Flowers for Mrs. Gibbs!!”
His voice faded away and silence spread. In fact, it was dead silent, because everyone had abruptly stopped what they were doing and interrupted their conversations. You would have heard it if a pin had dropped.
Tony confidently walked up to the boy and said: “There must be some confusion. There is only one Mr. Gibbs here.”
But the messenger remained persistent:
“No, no, no. I’ve been instructed to give these flowers to Mrs. Y/N Gibbs.”
At that moment, you and Gibbs came out of the principal's office and wondered why everyone was so quiet.
Obviously it had something to do with Tony and a flower delivery man who were standing in the middle of the desks.
When Tony saw you coming towards him, he said with relief: “Hey boss, Y/N. Nice to see you here.”
Gibbs just looked at him sternly: “DiNozzo. Don't you have anything to do?”
“Uhm, yes, boss,” he replied before looking at you: “But the boy is bringing flowers for you. He just wrote down the wrong name.”
Since you could imagine what the “problem” was, especially after the conversation with the principal, you just smiled at Tony and left it to Jethro to sort it out.
Unlike you, Gibbs didn't bat an eyelid, but just raised both eyebrows and asked interestedly: “So? Which one?” The question was actually superfluous because he knew the answer, but he just had too much fun teasing Tony a little.
"The flowers are for Mrs. Y/N Gibbs, Sir," the boy replied with his head held high and a firm voice, as if he were giving a prize.
"I already told him that it must be a misunderstanding, boss. But he absolutely doesn't want to believe it," Tony hurried to explain.
"Who are the flowers from?" Jethro wanted to know.
"From Mr. Tobias Fornell," the flower man answered.
Against all expectations, Gibbs laughed out loud and you ran your hand over your face. The colleagues had expected a lot, but not that the boss seemed to be very amused by the mix-up.
When he had calmed down enough, he grinned, shook his head and muttered:
"Good old Fornell..."
The messenger was slowly becoming restless, because this had been going on for far too long.
"Sir, I have to move on. Am I in the right place or not?" he wanted to know.
Gibbs smiled at him, pressed a tip into his hand and replied:
"Yes, you're in the right place. Give me the flowers."
"Thank you, Sir. Have a nice day!" the boy called, gave him the bouquet and ran to the elevator.
Tony still couldn't believe how such a gross mix-up could have happened: "We've worked with the FBI so many times and they still can't get it right. They really have no idea if they mix up names so massively."
Gibbs was in his element. He grinned at him, handed you the bouquet, leaned over to you and gave you a short but loving kiss on the lips.
As the boss intended, DiNozzo stood there and stared at him with his mouth wide open.
But Jethro couldn't help himself and went one step further. He looked at his team member and said with a broad grin: "That's because it wasn't a mix-up."
At the same time, you raised your hand and showed him your new ring.
Tony's jaw dropped.
Then Gibbs went grinning to his desk and you went to the elevator towards the forensic lab that you share with Abby and you were sure that she already knew the news by the time you got to her place.
The End
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Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27, @dreamy-state-of-mind
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Gibbs is such a fashion icon, holding on that useless neckcloth for god knows how long lmao. What purpose does it serve at this point other than accesorizing.
Also it cant be the same one from his navy days.
I mean...
He found that new once and held onto it for his life. I wouldn't be entirely surprised if he has not untied it in years.
𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐀 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
