hey sugar! can i request gibbs with the prompt “i think there’s someone in the house” but they had just gotbough a dog and that’s what the noise is
title; dog in the dark (Leroy Jethro Gibbs x fem!reader)
prompts; “i think there’s someone in the house” — from three hundred assorted dialogue prompts
warnings; established relationship, husband!gibbs, reader is wife no.5 lol, they’ve got a dog (breed undescribed so go wild i guess), soft!gibbs, if i missed any lmk!! (344 words)
one year masterlist | main masterlist
— thank you for celebrating my one year!!! | submissions are now closed
you jolted awake in bed, a sound downstairs causing a panic.
beside you, Jethro remained sound asleep, one arm drawn tight across your front even as you sat upright.
the noise downstairs continued, as if someone had broken in and couldn’t find their way around, bumping into furniture as they fumbled for a light switch.
it continued, even as you tried to wake Jethro.
“i think there’s someone in the house”
you whispered as he stirred groggily, your words catching his attention as he listened out carefully for the noise downstairs.
once he hears it, he chuckles tiredly, shaking his head while amusement plasters itself across his face.
“it’s nothing”
that made your brows knit together.
“nothing? it sounds like someone’s downstairs”
instead of answering, Jethro simply pulls you down into his side, trailing his hand soothingly along the length of your back.
he chuckled again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“it’s just the dog”
you paused, resting a hand on his chest as you pulled your head back to meet his eyes.
Jethro chuckled, holding you tight against his side as a smirk tugged at his lips as a look of realisation painted your features.
“..the dog”
his hand made another pass along your back, trailing his fingers soothingly.
“the dog, that’s all it is”
he hummed as you rested your head on his shoulder again, continuing to run his fingers along your back.
of course it was the dog, how could you have forgotten about the dog?
“sorry for forgetting about the dog”
Jethro shook his head, glancing down at you while you looked up at him, a small frown tugging at your lips.
“damn thing is probably just lost and looking to cuddle”
that made you smile, a small giggle bubbling past your lips.
“you don’t want him in the bed”
he chuckled at your words, his hand squeezing at your hip as he leaned in to kiss you.
the kiss was soft, but his words were softer against your lips.
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.
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.
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
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.
Tagging some of my LJG lovers 💕
@instantnoooodles @daphne-bourne @museofbooks @ilovemark1951 it won’t let me tag you :( @yestwlightfan
Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.
Warnings: sick reader (almost dies), PTSD from Paraguay, but mostly fluff. Soulmate AU where the longer one is away from soulmate, the sicker they get
~~~~
Since Jethro and Tim have been in Paraguay and captured, you and Delilah have been incredibly ill. Delilah of course from not being around her soulmate but you did not want to admit your boss Gibbs was your soulmate. So you tried to push it. You went to work. Headaches, stomach pain, vomiting, bloody coughs, and more occurred the longer they were gone.
Ellie knew what was going on. You have never been this sick since working but whenever Gibbs went on missions, you strangely got sick. Nick didn't really know till Ellie explained and when he saw you getting sick after Paraguay.
It got bad enough that you were hospitalized for your sickness. It was eating you from the inside out. Delilah was getting thinner but was able to stay at her apartment to wait for McGee.
Probably the torture at Paraguay made it seem like the two of them were not getting sick. McGee especially because he always thought of Delilah and it made him better. Gibbs was going through his own torment with his mind and body. The only thing strangely enough is that the thought of you made him feel somewhat better.
Now Gibbs was no idiot. He noticed since you joined the team and when you took days off, he would get sick. Oddly enough Ducky was the one who explained the phenomenon of soulmates. Specifically by not being around them causes the two of them to be sick. Especially during long periods of time, the soulmate's body would turn inside out because of it.
But when Gibbs and McGee were rescued from Paraguay, the first thought Gibbs had was you. Were you okay? Were you sick since he's been gone? Are you still living? Ducky mentioned that some soulmates could die after periods of alone time.
When Jethro got back and was checked over at the hospital, Ellie was there. She wanted to check on them and tell Gibbs you were in the same hospital but he beat her to the punch.
"Where is Y/n?" Gibbs demanded.
"Gibbs, she's down the hall." Ellie said softly.
"What do you mean?" Gibbs snapped.
"Since you had been gone, Y/n has gotten extremely ill and near dying multiple times. She needs you." Ellie said as she ushered him down the hall.
It did not take Gibbs long to get down the hall to your room. His heart felt like it stopped seeing your pale, thin body. Your eyes were shut and hollow. Your heart rate was faint. The only thing that made him happy is that seeing gift baskets from Nick, Ducky, Leon, Ellie, Delilah, and Abby. He moved to the side of your bed to get close.
Your hand was outstretched and Gibbs reached for it. Your hand was still soft like he remembered and slightly warm. He did not notice your eyes were slowly adjusting to the light or that your heart rate began to become normal.
"Y/n I have been away too long. The only reason that got me through was you. I think you're my soulmate. I hope that you are." Gibbs sighed.
Your hand twitched slightly causing Gibbs to immediately look up. He sees your e/c eyes barely open but looking at him. Your face showed a soft smile.
"Hey G-Gibbs." You croaked.
"Hey Y/n, how are you feeling?" He asked.
"Like I've been hit by a truck." You sighed.
"Let me get the nurse and then we can talk." Gibbs said as he squeezed your hand.
The nurse called the doctor in to look you over and check vitals. The doctor said you did need water and food but your vitals were turning normal. Gibbs was patiently waiting for the doctor to finish and watching you. He had to admit but seeing you awake and alive made him feel tons better.
As the doctor left and the nurse brought in some food, Gibbs sat beside your bed to help you eat. The nurse left with a smile on her face and did not say a word.
"Can I ask you something?" Gibbs asked as he handed you some crackers to munch on.
"You just did." You said as Gibbs rolled his eyes.
"Do you think we're soulmates?"
Gibbs noticed your shocked expression on your face and you knew your face was hot to touch. You really did not want Gibbs to figure it out like this.
"I d-do." You stuttered out before Gibbs handed you a spoon of soup.
"That's good. I would have thought I was going crazy from Paraguay if not. I was being serious that the thought of you helped me through it." Gibbs said softly. "But apparently me being gone so long made you so sick you could have died."
"But we found you. Or at least the team did. You're safe and I'm feeling better. I'm not coughing up blood or vomiting." You explained. "I'm just glad we finally admitted it."
"So am I. Do you mind if I give you a kiss? I've been wanting to for the past few months." Gibbs asked as you immediately nodded your head.
Even though you were still recovering, the kiss was sweet and calm. Sure you kissing back was rather weak but Gibbs guided the kiss. After you two broke for air, you didnt notice the nurse peak in just to check your heart rate but she did tell the others what happened.
Your stay in the hospital lasted for a week but Gibbs stayed by your side unless he had to meet a psychiatrist or go back to the office. Even when you returned from the hospital, you two decided to move into Gibbs's place so you two could stay by each other's side.
✰ - synopsis :: leroy jethro gibbs x gn reader with the prompt affectionate cuddles’
✰ - warnings :: fluff
✰ - k.j.’s diary says... sorry about the bad writing, im tryna get back in character or ehatever
although you both were not ones for physical affection, whenever one if you had a particularly bad day you both would eventually find yourself tangled up in each other on the couch.
so thats where you are now: cheek pressed onto the warm area of jethro’s NIU sweatshirt just above his heart while he rubbed his thumb back and forth over your back. jethro’s gaze bounced between the flickering flames and your limp body resting on his.
jethro hummed a little as he leaned back and closed his eyes. despite his own troubles, jethro knew you needed this quiet, tender moment. either way, you being in his his arms helped jethro more then you’d ever know.
Uhm…hi :) I’ve been watching NCIS a lot lately and Gibbs does something to me soooooo here’s this. Purely for my own entertainment, but I thought I’d share. ALSO! I don’t think it’ll be a series like a novel with a plot, but I might be doing a series of one shots with these two. Because this was SO fun to write (also it’s like 4.2k words mwah)
Warnings: bickering like a damn married couple, SMUT!, fingering, orgasm denial, semi-public, just in general Gibbs being sexy
Prompt: that one tumblr post that goes “you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid”
In all the years Ducky has worked with Gibbs, he has never known someone to piss Gibbs off as much as you do.
In all the years that you have been in the workforce, you’ve never had a boss that pisses you off as much as Gibbs does.
It’s a delicate balance, you think. He calls you a pain in his ass; you call him a bastard. You can’t think of one day where the two of you didn’t scream at each other until you got it out of your systems.
You still remember the first day McGee walked in on you fighting with Gibbs. Tony was at his desk, stuffing his face, per usual, completely oblivious to the empty paper coffee cups you were throwing at Gibbs’s head.
“Your aim is shit, L/N!” Gibbs yelled after he easily dodged the last one.
“Bite me!” You threw a pen at his head that time. It hit his forehead (sideways, thankfully) and bounced onto his desk.
McGee was frozen. He thought, any second, Gibbs was going to pull a gun on you and shoot you dead in the middle of NCIS.
But instead, Gibbs grinned. “Now that was a good shot.”
You gave him the middle finger in response.
McGee looked at Tony, and Tony only shook his head. “You have to let ‘em get it out,” Tony said.
“Where’s my list, Tony?” Gibbs called from his desk, clearly unamused that Tony thought he had downtime while the two of you argued.
Tony dropped the magazine quickly. “Coming, boss.”
“McGee,” Gibbs stared. “Do you want an invitation to your desk?”
“No,” McGee said quickly. “No, boss.” He scampers off to his seat.
“I have something,” you mutter.
“Do you now?” Gibbs turned toward you. “What is it?”
“You need a haircut,” you muttered, snatching a file off your desk. You nearly threw it at Gibbs, saying, “I’m getting lunch.”
McGee doesn’t remember when he was more shocked. Before you left with the arguing, or after you returned from lunch with a coffee and a cookie — for Gibbs.
+++
Ever since you started at NCIS, that is how it has been.
You don’t know when the switch flipped, all you know is that now, arguing with Gibbs doesn’t ‘blow off steam’ like it used to. You don’t feel better after it, and it doesn’t feel like an inside joke anymore. It feels real.
And that bothers you.
It bothers you especially because the heat is all coming from him. You noticed it when he threatened to fire you two days ago. Despite all the arguments, he’s never done that. Not once. Not to you.
But he seemed serious when he said it. So serious that you backed off immediately, genuinely worried for your job’s safety.
After a few days, though, it’s really starting to piss you off.
“Abby, I don’t know what it is,” you sigh. “But I’m ready to rip his head off. For real this time.”
“I don’t know why you wouldn’t be,” Abby shrugs. “Gibbs pisses me off sometimes, too.”
“This is different, though,” you murmur. “I can tell. It’s like he’s seriously mad at me, but I— I don’t know why.”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“No, if I do that then I’ll get some Marine lecture about insecurity and honestly, I’m not in the mood for that today.”
“Yeah,” Abby frowns. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry about what?” Gibbs announces himself in his usual way: by being nosy.
“That Y/N has to…” Abby looks at you for help.
“That I have a date tonight,” you cover. “A blind one. Friend set me up. They’re never fun. You know how it is.”
Gibbs’s expression is unreadable, even to you, and that’s troublesome.
“You’re talking about blind dates,” he says, taking a step closer to you, “when we have a dead Marine?”
“He’s not gonna get any deader,” you shrug. And you were helping Abby with some of the evidence while Tony and McGee were out interviewing.
Gibbs takes another step. “You think this is funny?” And another. His nose might as well be touching yours now.
“I think,” you pause, rummaging through your jacket pocket for a moment before you find what you’re looking for. “You need a mint.” In one swift motion, you’re popping a breath mint into Gibbs’s mouth, patting him on the cheek once its in. “Better.”
Instead of spitting it back out at you, like you expected him to do, he tongues it over to his cheek. “Are you done?”
“Depends,” you say. “How long are you going to stand there until you remember this tactic doesn’t work on me?”
It’s a joke, truly. You had told him once that the last time a man got that close to your face, he kissed you. You had this shit-eating grin on your face when you told him, too. Gibbs took it as a note to never get in your face the way he does with Tony and McGee.
Except today, apparently.
Reluctantly, though, Gibbs concedes, and steps away from you.
“I’ll be at my desk,” you smirk, walking past him. “Bye Abby.” She waves to you with a smile that turns into a frown when Gibbs scoffs.
“That’s where you should be anyway,” Gibbs calls out.
You throw him two middle fingers before you disappear.
Once you’re gone, Gibbs turns to Abby. “What have you got, Abs?”
Abby grins, staring at him with two raised eyebrows, tapping her toe against the floor.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she says. “I just don’t think green is your color, Gibbs.”
He knows exactly what she’s getting at, but he doesn’t reply.
+++
This continues for another week, and it gets worse.
Gibbs puts you with Tony every chance he can get, even though he knows the work takes twice as long when the two of you are paired. He makes you stay at the office with Abby while everyone else goes out. You’re barely around Gibbs for more than three minutes before he’s making some excuse to go somewhere else, to talk to some random person — clearly to be anywhere except beside you.
It’s exhausting, at this point. You’re ready to give up.
You have, honestly. You’ve stopped trying to talk to him. You stopped wishing him a good morning or night a few days ago. You’ve even stopped telling him when you’re going to get lunch, so when you disappear, he has to ask McGee or Tony where you went.
Every single time, McGee and Tony share looks before saying, “Lunch, boss.”
Gibbs doesn’t know why, but every single time he realizes you’ve left without saying anything, it hurts.
You don’t even bring him coffee anymore.
“Tony, McGee, I want you both to go talk to our Marine’s parents,” Gibbs orders. “They had something to do with his disappearance, even if they don’t want to admit it. One of you, talk to them. The other, start snooping.”
You’re sitting at your desk, quietly mulling over the Marine’s file, and waiting for Gibbs to bark some order at you. Or, if he’s keeping up his act, he won’t speak one word to you since he’s already given you one order for the afternoon — and you’ve yet to complete it.
You almost want to make a bet with yourself about which it’ll be.
“Do you want coffee?”
You keep reading, not even sure if the question is directed at you.
“L/N,” Gibbs says. “I asked if you wanted coffee.”
Looking up from the file, you shake your head. “No thanks.” And you go back to the Marine’s background.
Gibbs sighs. You’re like him: you never turn down coffee.
You hear his chair squeak as he gets up, his footsteps against the carpet as he walks toward your desk. And then the file is plucked from your hands.
“Gibbs,” you mutter. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Don’t care,” he replies, closing the folder and tossing it on his desk. “Up. We’re getting coffee.”
“I said no thank you.”
“And I said, get up.”
You take a deep breath, trying to calm your anger that is already boiling. “No.”
Gibbs tries to control his face. “Agent L/N, if I have to drag you into that elevator, I will. It was not a suggestion. It was an order. Up.”
With a huff, you stand, walking around your desk and past Gibbs, knocking your shoulder against his on the way.
He’s ready to throttle you just for that, but he doesn’t.
You wait by the elevator with crossed arms. He presses the down arrow and waits, silently.
The doors open and you step inside first, grinding your teeth to keep from yelling at him. He steps in after you. A few seconds after the doors close and the elevator starts moving, he flips the emergency switch.
“Here we fucking go,” you roll your eyes, not caring about being polite anymore since he clearly isn’t going to either.
“Do you have a problem, L/N?”
“Do you, sir?”
Gibbs pauses. You only use ‘sir’ when you’re beyond pissed at him. You’ve only used it once before.
“I have a problem with your tone,” he says evenly. “What’s gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into you?” You turn your body to face him. “You’ve been ignoring me for a week, you’ll barely look at me, and you leave the room every time I walk in. What the fuck is wrong with you, Gibbs?”
“I’m your boss, Y/N, I’m not supposed to be your friend.”
“But you are!” you yell. “You are and it sucks because right now I just want my best friend back! But he seems to have his head shoved too far up his ass to even give a damn.”
“And mine has been acting like something crawled up her ass and died for as long as I can remember!”
“Because you piss me off!”
“I’m a bastard! What else do you expect from me?”
“To man up and stop acting like you don’t want to kiss me!”
Gibbs scoffs, looking away from you. “Oh, please.”
“You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid, Gibbs,” you say with no remorse. Because it’s true. And it’s about time he owns up to it.
“Do I?” He steps closer to you, backing you into the railing of the elevator.
“I think you do,” you reply, tilting your head back to meet his eyes, and to put your lips even closer to his than they were. One more step and he’d be all but kissing you.
“I think you’re forgetting Rule 12.”
“Rule 12 is the most bullshit rule you have,” you mutter. “Especially when you’re one inch away from fucking me right now.”
“You have no idea the things I’d do to you.”
“Try me.”
He thinks about it for a moment, smirks, then steps away from you.
You scoff. “Just as I expected.”
Gibbs flips the emergency switch with a laugh. “And what did you expect, L/N?”
“That you wouldn’t be man enough to do something about it,” you shrug. “Looks like I’ll agree to that blind date I have tonight. He might be nice. Maybe better than the last one. I could invite him back to my place—”
Before you have a chance to even think about continuing, Gibbs has flipped the emergency switch and slammed you against the wall of the elevator, both hands on either side of your shoulders, caging you in.
You smirk. “Problem, boss?”
“You have such a smart mouth you should consider yourself lucky that we have a missing Marine. Because if we didn’t have a job to do, Agent L/N, I’d fuck you right here in this elevator so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk out of it.”
Your eyes almost glow with lust. “Is that a promise?”
He stares you down, not blinking or moving.
Rolling your eyes, you finally take matters into your own hands and push your face forward, connecting your lips.
Gibbs is stunned for a moment, feeling your lips against his, and then he’s ravenous. You’ve pissed him off beyond belief, and he’s going to make you pay for it. Quickly.
Instead of teasing your lips with his tongue, he bites your lower lip, forcing you to gasp, and his tongue pushes between your lips with ease. Without looking, because he doesn’t need to, he unbuttons your pants, yanking the zipper down, and maneuvering his hand inside, only to be met with nothing.
You’re naked underneath these pants.
You smirk when you feel him falter. “What?” you murmur against his lips. “It’s laundry da—Ah!” The sneaky bastard.
“What?” he mocks you, smirking against your cheek, nipping at your earlobe while his index finger massages your walls. “I thought this was what you wanted, huh?”
You whine loudly and he shushes you, putting his other hand over your mouth.
“You’re going to cum all over my hand, and you’re going to make it quick.”
You nod dumbly, hips jerking against his movements, gasping when he adds a second finger.
“You’ve got two minutes,” he says. “Starting now. You either cum in two minutes or you don’t. Your choice.”
You’ve cum in less time, so you don’t see it as a challenge, especially not when it’s Gibbs who has his fingers buried in you, his body pressed against yours, whispering dirty things in your ear.
But two minutes pass quicker than you expect them to. Gibbs can feel your walls beginning to spasm, but the seconds are running out.
“Times up,” he says, pulling his fingers from your heat. He watches you, your eyes closed, standing right on the edge, but unable to go over it now that he’s left you. You look like a painting, mouth open, sweat glistening on your neck.
“Gibbs…” you murmur, nearly whine, opening your eyes when he only hums in response because he has his fingers in his mouth, tasting you.
He reaches behind him and flicks the emergency switch, causing you to scramble, your trembling hands fumbling with your pants. He swats your hands away gently, zipping you up. For someone who just fucked you with that hand, it’s incredibly steady.
“There,” he whispers. He kisses your forehead gently, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m sorry I’ve been more of a bastard than usual lately.”
“You’re forgiven,” you smirk, “on one condition.”
He already knows what you mean. “Later,” he says.
The elevator dings and your eyes widen, wondering why Gibbs isn’t moving. The second these doors open, whoever is standing there will know. God forbid if Tony and McGee are back and standing there—
But Gibbs sent the elevator to Autopsy, and outside stands only Ducky, hat on his head and coat over his arm. It must be his lunch time.
Ducky smiles knowingly, looking between the two of you. “It’s about time, Jethro.”
Gibbs shakes his head, waving the doctor inside. “Thanks, Duck.”
Happily, Ducky steps inside, standing next to you. He nudges your arm gently. “I tried to get him to come to his senses months ago, Y/N. I’m truly sorry it took him so long.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it, Ducky,” you nudge him back. “It’s not your fault he’s a bastard.”
You and Gibbs share a look, and he raises his eyebrows at you, letting you know you’ll be paying for that later, too.
+++
Once the Marine is found — alive and well, though his career in the Navy won’t be any more — Gibbs doesn’t have to ask twice if you want to crash at his place.
Tony and McGee are long gone, not having to be asked twice about going home, either. But you stayed back a little at the office, waiting Gibbs out, wondering what it’ll be.
Eventually, he came over to your desk, turning off your lamp. You looked up at him with a tired smile. He nodded his head, said, “Come on,” and that was all it took.
Late at night, NCIS is barren, so Gibbs holds your hand as you walk out to his truck. Like a true gentleman, he opens the door for you and shuts it.
The ride to his place is quiet, but once you’re there, it all starts again.
“I can’t believe you talked to Ducky about me.”
Gibbs scoffs, tossing his keys on the counter. “I had to. Do you have any idea how hard you are to figure out?”
“Back at you,” you snicker, kicking your shoes off by the couch. “Abby has heard plenty about you pissing me off. I thought our bickering was a joke!”
“It is!”
“Until you threatened to fire me!”
“Because instead of doing your job, you talked about dating—”
You snap your fingers. “There it is.”
“There what is?”
“Your jealousy is showing, Gibbs. This is what I mean: you look stupid.”
“I look stupid, huh?” he fires back, once again getting right in your face. “Sweetheart, you have no idea how stupid you’re about to look.”
“Fucking try me.”
“Oh, believe me,” he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I will.”
Before you have a chance to figure out what he’s doing, he’s already done it.
“Gibbs!” you squeal, beating your fists on his back. “Seriously?!”
He literally threw you over his shoulder, and now he’s carrying you to his bedroom. Like a sack of potatoes.
“I think I kinda like this view,” he muses, smacking your ass, earning another squeal from you.
“Bastard,” you chuckle, poking his sides.
“That is what they call me.” You can hear his grin.
Once inside his bedroom, he sets you down, grinning even wider when you glare at him.
“I could’ve walked.”
“Ah,” he shakes his head, pulling you back into his arms. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Damn him, you think. Damn him for being this good.
“Now,” he says softly, one hand cupping your cheek. “Where did we leave off?”
“You leaving me hanging,” you pout. “Your stupid two minutes.”
“We have all night tonight,” he says, but it sounds more like a warning. “I’m sure I can fix that.”
“You better.”
Clothes come off randomly, in between heated kisses and muttering from the both of you. Even making out can’t stop you both from bickering.
“Really?” Gibbs says disbelieving. “It’s laundry day, but you have a bra on?”
“Would you like my nipples to be out at work?”
He raises his eyebrows, no doubt considering it for a moment.
“Around Tony?” you add and immediately, Gibbs shakes his head. “That’s what I thought.”
Gibbs glares before unclipping your bra with ease, tossing it onto his dresser — definitely on purpose. You don’t know if you’ll be getting that back.
Left only in his underwear, you tug at the elastic and he kicks them off, now both of you bare, no more barriers between the two of you.
Carefully, he lays you down on his bed, making sure you’re comfortable against the pillows. He takes his time, kissing all over your face, then your neck, nipping and sucking and leaving marks that you’ll scold him for in the morning. But right now, it’s Heaven.
He begins to kiss down your body, to your chest, but you start to whine, clawing at his shoulders.
“What?”
“I want you inside of me,” you whisper. “Please. Now.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he smirks.
He crawls back up the bed, slotting his body in between your legs. Instinctively, you wrap them around his hips, hooking your heels together at the small of his back, pulling him closer.
“We’ve got all night,” he reminds you, kissing you all over, sensing how eager you are.
“I know,” you smile, running your fingers through his hair. “But I want you now.”
He decides not to tease you any longer, reaching down to guide his head inside of you. You both gasp when he slides in all the way, and you roll your hips immediately, wanting more already.
“Patience,” he warns. “I’m taking my time with you.”
And he does.
He starts out slow, barely pulling out at all before moving back in, rolling his hips against yours, savoring this feeling. He speeds up when he feels your walls beginning to convulse around him, unable to hold himself back from slamming into you.
“Gibbs,” you breathe, nails clawing at his head.
“Jethro,” he corrects lightly.
“Jethro,” you repeat, whimpering when he begins to slam into you with no mercy. “Oh my god, Jeth— Ah! I’m gonna cum—”
“Good,” he growls, moving his lips back to your neck, burying his face there. “Do it.”
A few more thrusts and you’re gone, tensing and trembling in his arms, crying out into his ear. The feeling is godly to him, and he knows he won’t last much longer.
“I need to pull out,” he warns, voice low.
You tighten your legs around him, pressing on the back of his neck, keeping him pinned right where he is. “Don’t you dare.”
You feel him grin into your neck and then he groans, lifting his head to kiss you, his tongue pushing past your lips with ease. He swallows your moans, relishing in the feeling of your walls already beginning to pulse around him again.
The second time you cum, the feeling makes him lose his bearings, and then he’s pounding into you, filling you with his load. When you feel him twitch inside of you, it’s like your orgasm doubles in size, and you’re clinging to him like you’ll float away if you don’t.
Gibbs puts nearly all of his weight on you, holding you down, holding him inside of you as he pants in your ear.
“Shit,” he mutters. “What are you doin’ to me?”
Chuckling, you pull him in for another kiss.
+++
After rolling around in the sheets some more, the two of you take a shower, and then crawl back in bed.
But you can’t sleep. You’re thinking about anything and everything, and it seems like Gibbs is, too.
A lot of what you’re thinking about, you don’t even know if it’s worth bringing up. Or if it doesn’t need to be brought up tonight, if it can be dealt with later. If you want to deal with it later.
“Are you awake?” he asks.
“Yeah.” You roll over and face him, loving the way he looks in the moonlight. “Can’t sleep?”
“Yeah.”
“Wanna go work on the boat?”
His eyes light up. “Really?”
“I’ll get the coffee,” you grin, tossing the covers off of your body.
Gibbs meets you at the doorway, pulling you in by your hips, kissing you deeply. You almost think he’s going to take you back to bed before he pulls away, just staring into your eyes.
“What?” you whisper.
He shakes his head. “You know I don’t want this to be a one-night-only thing, right?”
Relief floods your body. “Me either,” you murmur. “I want it to be more.”
“I’m not good at marriage,” he blurts, like he needed to get it off his chest.
“Well, I know that,” you grin, patting his chest lightly. He laughs. “It’s a good thing I’m not the marrying type.”
He can’t help but kiss you again. All this time, he’s been holding back, because there’s been this voice in his head, telling him you’d want a husband. You’re younger, you’re beautiful, why wouldn’t you?
But then he thinks, you’re young, you’re beautiful, why would you?
“I decided a long time ago that marriage isn’t for me, Jethro,” you continue, wanting him to know the full truth, right now. “So you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Yes ma’am,” he smiles.
“So are we good, then?”
“We’re good,” he nods. “We’re good. Still wanna work on that boat?”
“You mean do I still want to watch you work on a boat? Absolutely. You probably look sexy as hell.”
“I’ll teach you a few things,” he says with a smirk.
You return the expression. “I’m sure you will.”
+++
At work the next week, Tony catches you and Gibbs walking in together, clearly having spent the night together as well. He says nothing when Gibbs is around (of course), but the second he leaves, Tony is nosy as hell.
“Something to share, Y/N?”
“Nope,” you shake your head, logging onto your computer. “You got something to say?”
Tony narrows his eyes. “You came in with Gibbs.”
“We got here at the same time,” you shrug. “Happened to get to the elevator at the same time. It happens.”
“What happens?” Gibbs asks, sneaking up on Tony like always.
“Nothing, boss,” Tony straightens up. “How’s your coffee?”
Gibbs stares at Tony.
“Right,” Tony heads back to his desk quickly.
You share a smile with Gibbs, deciding to keep up appearances as usual. “What? No coffee for me?”
“Get your own, Agent L/N,” he says, sending you a wink.
When you get up to do just that an hour later, Gibbs meets you in the elevator.
I'm sick rn and I really need a Jethro Gibbs to take care of me while i suffer from fever🤧
Hi anon! I hope you’re feeling better ❤️ and that this would help 😘 Take care!
Fever
You tried to fight whatever germ that got into you as much as possible, but it won. In the morning, you tried to get into work like any other day, but you were so weak and feverish, your boss forced you to go home and get some rest.
You considered calling your boyfriend to let him know, but you thought against it in the end. You knew he was working on a hard case and you didn’t want to be a burden. So, all you did was getting home, taking some meds and buried yourself under the blanket.
You literally passed out in bed. When you finally woke up, you had a wet washcloth on your forehead that you didn’t remember getting. When you tiredly looked under the blanket, you realized that your work clothes were gone, you were wearing one of your Gibbs t-shirts, shorts and socks. You hate wearing socks into bed. When you turned your face to the nightstand, looking for your phone, all you found was a glass of water and meds. You didn’t remember doing any of those things.
“Don’t you dare.” You heard when you tried to climb out of bed. You’d have screamed from fear, if you hadn’t recognized his voice immediately. You followed the sound, and saw Gibbs sitting in the armchair across the room. Before you could process, he was standing and walking up to you, laying you back down into bed. “You’re not moving from this bed until you’re feeling better.” He used the boss’s ton.
When you were laying again, Gibbs sat next to you, and bent over to softly kiss your forehead. He kept his lips press against your kiss and you knew he was trying to know where you fever was at. “What time is it?” You asked, weakly.
“Around 3pm,” he answered, stroking your cheek. “You’re burning up.” He felt sorry for you, and how he wished he could take the germs away.
“What are you doing here in the middle of the day?” You curled up. You may have been burning up, but you felt so cold, that you were shivering.
“Why didn’t you call?” He shot back, grabbing the glass of water and meds that he probably had prepared. “Can you take this for me? Ducky’s order.”
You got yourself on your elbow and took the pills from his hand. Once it was swallowed, your head immediately hit the pillow again. You were feeling horrible. “When was Ducky here?” You closed your eyes despite yourself. You wanted to look at him, enjoy his presence but you were so tired.
Gibbs put the washcloth back against your forehead. “Doesn’t matter. Next time you’re sick, but don’t bother telling me, there will be consequences.”
“I love consequences.” You said with a grin, and Gibbs chuckled.
“Go back to sleep, honey. Food will be waiting for you to wake up again.”
“Will you?” Unconsciously, you had his polo shirt in your fist. Gibbs softly made you open your hand, and he kissed your knuckles.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He said.
“Then hold me. Germs hate you, you’re safe.”
Even if he could catch what you had, he wouldn’t care. He got to his assigned side of the bed and lay down next to you. You were already half asleep, so he gently brought your body against his. You shivered again and he held you closer. He didn’t care that you were sweating all over him, he held you, stroked your hair and gave you occasional kisses until you woke up again.
“Bath then food or food then bath?” He asked when your eyes met his. The fever dropped a couple of hours ago, and you looked like you were feeling a little better.
“Are you coming into the bath with me?”
“If you want me to.”
“Bath first.”
He pecked your lips and got out of bed. “Don’t move.”
A few minutes later, Gibbs came to the bedroom. He helped you sitting up, and started to undress you. “I can—“ you tried to object.
“Shh.”
You let him. Once you were naked, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and carried you to the bathroom like you were nothing. You hung onto me like a koala bear and it made him chuckle. You only let go of each other once you were in the bathtub. While he undressed, you realized that he lit two candles, and put one of your bath bombs into the water. “You hate bath bombs.”
“I don’t hate them,” he climbed into the tub, settling behind you. He brought your back against his chest. “I don’t get the purpose.” He kissed your shoulder.
“You don’t get the purpose of baths, period.”
“With you in it, they have a purpose.”
“Do they, now?” You leaned your head against his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to kiss your jawline.
“Yes. But that’s not why we’re in it right now.”
You whined, but he was right. You may have felt better than a few hours before, but you were still exhausted and the fever wasn’t completely gone. Sex could wait.
You and Gibbs soaked into the bath for about an hour - you almost fell into sleep again - before he helped you wash. He assisted you in everything, and it was the sweetest thing ever. He was so gentle, and soft and loving. When you were back into bed after he changed the sheets - refusing your help - you stared at him while he brought food. “Your case—“ you started to say.
“No case is more important than you and your health.” He said, putting the plate on your lap.
“It’s just the flu, or something.” You interjected.
“Could be a cold for all I care.” He settled next to you with his own plate.
“I love you.” You said before you could stop yourself. At this moment, you were burning hot and it was because of the fever. It was the first time you told him those words. It didn’t intend to, and you were scared of his reaction.
“I love you, too.” He kissed your temple. “Now eat.”
Imagine that, during a stakeout, Gibbs sends McGee and Tony away to “find some food” so that he has time to cuddle with you…
And I was asked for a full fic by @ilovemark1951 and @wolviesbabes so here we go!!
Another stakeout. Another sleepless night. More Chinese takeout, more toilets that don’t flush, and another not-so-safe safehouse. You wanted to go home. But it’s been one whole week of the same case, and you can’t leave now.
You’re hunched over by the window with binoculars, Tony is humming something that sounds vaguely like Fiddler on the Roof, McGee is summoning all his self-control not to slap his partner, and Gibbs is resting on the couch. It’s a picture of… well, something.
Gibbs sees you watching him, and locks eyes with you. You smile, noticing the way his eyes trace your face, and your body. It’s half to make sure that you’re well, and half because he loves to check you out. He looks almost comfortable, sunken into that couch, and you wish you were back home in bed with him, curled at his side, with some hot coffee in the pot… you turn back to your binoculars right as a resounding smack echoes in the small quarters. McGee must have finally snapped.
“McGee! Dinozzo!” Jethro barks, and the boys leap to attention, already hurling accusations.
“Boss, I didn’t-”
“Boss, see, what happened was-”
“-He started it-“
“-I didn’t’-”
“Hey!” Another shout from your boyfriend. The bickering stops.
There’s a brief pause while Gibbs tries to figure out what to do with them, and Dinozzo and McGee stare each other down. Suddenly, a lightbulb goes off in the boss’ mind.
“Dinozzo, McGee,” they stand up straighter, “why don’t you two get us some food from around the corner?”
They look at each other, a nervous, confused look, but Tony decides to play it safe.
“Right away, boss.”
You don’t miss him snickering on the way out.
With a great big sigh, you stretch in your seat, watching Jethro watch you. He grins. You get up slowly, your bones creaking, and make your way over to the couch. He opens his arms. You fall right in.
Your boyfriend pulls you close, with your legs over his, your head resting on his chest, and arms wrapped under his jacket, around his torso. You sigh again — a contented sigh, this time. He kisses your hair. His thumbs run circles on your thigh and side.
It feels so good to be snuggled against his warm body, which almost makes up for staying in this broken-down safe house. Jethro is home, and he smells like home, too (which is really just sawdust and bourbon), and you find yourself melting into his embrace.
“Don’t fall asleep, now,” he whispers, but you’re already gone.
He pulls you tighter.
You both pretend to not wake up when the boys return. They can deal with their bosses sleeping for now; you’re enjoying this too much to get back to work just yet.
