#gibbs x dinozzo
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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. <3
Title: The Night Shift
Summary: What's worse than a sick Gibbs? A sick mini Gibbs.
Words: 2568
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
#ncis#ncis fanfiction#gibbs#jethro gibbs#leroy jethro gibbs#gibbs x reader#jethro gibbs x reader#reader#reader fic#teen reader#teen!reader#daughter reader#daughter!reader#tony dinozzo#tony x reader#tony dinozzo x reader#gibbs x dinozzo#dinozzo x gibbs#mine#oc reader#oc!reader#leroy jethro gibbs x reader
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#true love
#ncis#ncisedit#tiva#tony dinozzo#ziva david#tony x ziva#my stuff#ncismine#don't mention the quality of the gif in gibbs basement#i will start crying hysterically
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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.
#jethro gibbs#ncis#x reader#ncis fandom#ncis x readers#ncis fanfiction#ncis x reader#tony dinozzo#tony dinozzo x reader#leroy jethro gibbs#jethro gibbs x reader#gibbs x reader#gibbs#ncis gibbs#ljg#ducky mallard#ncis reader insert#fem reader#reader insert#ncis smut#smut#discover
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Pushin
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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Peaches and Cowboy
gibbs x reader
This does take place before Jack Sloane appears in season 15
Peaches. (Y/N) only had to thank one Leroy Jethro Gibbs for that nickname. He insists it’s because she’s so sweet and kind. But, she’s pretty sure it’s because of her perfume. He calls her that only when they’re alone, neither of them want to ruin his reputation.
Her head was down on her desk, with paperwork covering every inch of her desk. Gibbs was growing concerned, because she was looking paler by the hour. Once Tony headed to interrogation, Ziva was checking out a lead, and Tim was getting an update from Abby, he made his way over to her desk. That’s when he smelled her perfume, peach with just a dash of vanilla. “Hey, peaches, you feelin’ okay?” Her head instantly rose from her desk, and she sleepily responded, “Yeah, just a headache the size of Texas. I’ll be alright. Just need to drink more water.” He was still concerned, but ultimately said, “Okay, let me know if you need anything.” “Will do, hun.”
The day went by and by the end of it, she was very excited to go home, make some soup, and crawl into a warm bed. Gibbs had the same idea, but because he was still concerned, he offered to drive her home. She was hesitant at first, saying she didn’t want to be a bother. But he insisted. And she damn near fell asleep during the ride home. She was so out of it, she didn’t even notice that it wasn’t her house. It was Gibbs’ house. Fair enough, they only live a street away from each other. She only noticed something was different when the front table was in a different spot than it was in her house. He led her to the couch, and told her to make herself comfortable. As she did, he disappeared into the kitchen. He reappeared a few moments later with two bowls of soup, water for her, and a beer for him. She felt a little bad that her friend was taking care of her, but ultimately felt so grateful that he cared enough about her to do so.
They ate in comfortable silence, and after finishing her soup, she started feeling incredibly exhausted. To no shock, he noticed that she was starting to fade. He took the dishes back into the kitchen, and when he returned to the living room, found her half asleep, curled up on the sofa. He gently pushed her hair away from her face, and gently laid a blanket on top of her. He whispered, “Goodnight, peaches.” She responded with a half-hearted mumble that sounded similar to, “Goodnight Jethro.” And with that, she fell into a very blissful sleep, where she dreamt of a very familiar silver-haired, steely-blue eyed man.
Cowboy. Gibbs only had (Y/N) to thank for that nickname. She calls him that only when they’re alone, neither of them want to ruin his reputation. It was a slow day, the team didn’t have a case, so they took the day to catch up on paperwork. Sometime in the afternoon, they all took a break (minus one silver-haired boss), and took turns guessing what their favorite movie genres were. Lastly, it was (Y/N)’s turn. She correctly guessed that Ziva hasn’t watched a lot of movies, Tim’s favorite is action-fantasy, and that Tony’s was classic films. But Gibbs, she had a hard time figuring his out. But ultimately, she correctly guessed he likes westerns. Specifically, black and white westerns. “Yeah I see it, cowboy. It fits.” And with that, that’s how he became “cowboy”. Just with an afternoon distraction from the mind-numbing paperwork they had all been busy with all day. The rest of the day went by in a blur. They all said their goodbyes and went their separate ways for the night. Sometime in the evening, (Y/N) found herself in Gibbs’ basement, drinking bourbon out of an old glass, talking with not her boss, but her friend.
“Why’d ya guess I like westerns?” “Because, you have this air of authority about you, your house is bare besides furniture, you have an old TV, and you build boats in your basement. Plus, at night, you smell like bourbon.” “Wow.” “Yeah… it’s one of my favorite things about you.” “What is?” “Everything. It’s just so you.” He leaned over and wrapped her in a hug. She swiftly accepted his hug, and held him tight. They spent the rest of the night laughing and talking about anything and everything. Not a lot of people know, but Gibbs can be very talkative with the right person. He also smiles his beautiful, soft smile quite a lot. But only when he’s with her. Only when he’s with his “peaches”. And when she’s with her “cowboy”, the sun will never be able to outshine her smile.
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Leaving the BAU was a tough decision for you to make but it was the one you’re sticking with. Sure, you miss everyone there but it was time to turn that page and start a new one. A one where you start working with Gibbs in NCIS.
You worked with the NCIS team before on a case, after that you were still on contact with McGee texting back and forth. After a rough case you called him up and ask him if he could meet you for coffee. And that became a thing for you two, meeting for coffee or video call if you had time. After a while he asked you.
“Would you consider coming to work for NCIS?”
You looked up at him, little surprised “What?”
“I said would you consider coming to work for NCIS?” He talked slowly.
You hit his arm “Ow! What was that for?”
“Don’t make fun of me.” You gave him a little smile and he smiled back.
“But seriously would you?”
Stopping for a minute to think about this “Maybe?”
“You said that like you’re unsure.” He commented.
Huffing “Well damn Tim I never thought about this like ever.”
“Maybe you should and if you made up your mind I’m sure Gibbs would like to have you on the team.”
Since then you thought about the NCIS all the time and weighting your pros and cons in leaving the BAU. These people were your family but that doesn’t mean you will cut all ties with them, it will be a little difficult to see each other all the time sure but you will.
You heard the elevator ding, you reached your floor. Walking into the bullpen “Good morning guys” you smiled giving everyone the coffee you made.
“Well looks like someone’s in a good mood today.” Tony commented with his sly smile.
“Good morning Y/n” McGee replied “Oh and thank you” he raised his coffee to you in cheers motion.
Before you got to ask about Gibbs whereabouts he came in with a serious expression on his face “We got a case.”
While everyone grabbed their gear you saw Gibbs grabbing the coffee on his desk and drinking it.
“This tastes good. Where did you get it from?” He looked for a logo.
“Well thank you, it came from my home.” You smiled at him.
And he smiled back while both of you walking to the elevator.
#writings-of-a-demigod#criminal minds imagines#NCIS imagines#jethro gibbs x reader#tim mcgee x reader#Tony dinozzo x reader
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Hi. I’ve been reading your work and it’s been sooo funny. It’s my first time asking for fic. Could you write a fic where Gibbs and reader is in the secret relationship in the bullpen. And one day they’re having breakfast or lunch or anything and they’re cute, sweet, and so in love each other and then being caught on the scene by someone in the bullpen.
Thank you so much for good works!
Hello anon, thank you for the request and your kind words, it means so much to me ❤️ I hope this is what you were looking for!
Busted ~ Jethro Gibbs
It's not easy to give a relationship secret, but it's even worse when it happens in the workplace, and the people you're the closest with are all trained investigators. However, you and Gibbs have been doing a great job at hiding it. It's a lot thanks to him, to be honest; the man has one hell of a self control and when he puts his mind into something, he never fails.
Most of the times you were almost caught was because you couldn't keep your hands off of the man you love. A stolen kiss here, a lingering hand there. The closest to being busted happened when a lawyer was clearly hitting on Gibbs, and your jealousy went over the roof. You trust Gibbs more than anyone, you know he'd never do something like that, but seeing this woman being too comfortable with your man, touching his arm, and giving him flirty looks, that was hard to handle.
However, it led to the first time Gibbs allowed himself to let go in the office. Noticing how jealous you were getting, he got you to follow him to autopsy, taking the elevator and shutting it down. He immediately grabbed you and kissed you intensely. Then he looked deep into your eyes, silently asking if you got the message. You smiled and nodded. Gibbs was a man of a few words after all.
Weekends off were a very rare thing for the team, so when the boss said 'see you on Monday' by Friday night, it was a race to the parking lot. Obviously, a few minutes after you got home, Gibbs let himself in and you immediately jumped into his arms. "An entire weekend, just you and me?"
"Why else would I let everyone go this early?" He kissed you.
After spending the Friday night at your place, ordering takeouts and simply relaxing together, you went to his place on Saturday. Gibbs feels more comfortable there, and he likes to work on his boat while you're reading a book in the armchair he specifically brought into the basement for you.
But Gibbs wanted to spoil you. He knows he's not the most outgoing and adventurous man, and there's this tiny voice in his mind that keeps telling him you're gonna get bored of him and the relationship. So, he used all of his computer skills to search for the best and fanciest restaurants in Washington. He wished he could've asked McGee for this, but how would he explain it? 'I want to take my girlfriend on a fancy date, and spoil her the way she deserves, cause I'm afraid she'll get bored and leave me. Also, my girlfriend is someone you love like your own sister.'
It was a nightmare to do this research, but Gibbs was satisfied with himself when he found the perfect place to take you.
"Your burgundy dress is still here, right?" He asked, joining you after he took a random shower.
"I think so, why?"
He kissed your forehead. "Go get ready, we're going out."
"You're kidding? Where are we going?"
"Surprise."
You excitedly got up from the couch. "Okay, but I need to take a shower too!"
He looked at his watch. "You got an hour, good enough?"
"Yes sir!" You quickly pecked his lips and rushed upstairs.
You don't remember the last time you got into a fancy restaurant like this, you kinda felt out of place. But it was amazing to see Gibbs being this romantic with you, holding doors, pulling out the chair, he even ordered your first alcohol drink, for the both of you instead of going with a beer or bourbon. "You're spoiling me," you shyly smiled. "And you look extra handsome tonight. I still love the polo shirts and hoodies though."
"You deserve to be spoiled." He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. "Had to clean up nice so people don't wonder why the hell you're doing with me, more than they already do, at least."
It was amazing. The food was exquisite, the conversation flew smoothly between you, and Gibbs kept complimenting you, and not just physically. He hinted several times how lucky he felt that you were with him, loving him and standing by his side no matter what. "Jethro," you looked at your joint hands on the table before getting lost in his wonderful blue eyes. "You don't have to do this to make me happy. I'm happy as long as I'm with you."
He stayed silent for a moment, processing what you were saying and looking for the right answer. When he opened his mouth to answer, a voice came out from behind you. "Boss! Wow, fancy seeing you here!" Tony DiNozzo. Great. You couldn't get out of this, could you? "Who's your da--" he reached the table, and finally laid eyes on you.
"Hi Anthony," you teased. "Didn't recognize me from behind? That's offensive from you."
Tony kept looking between you and Gibbs, mouth open. "I think he's having a stroke." You joked to Gibbs, who softly chuckled. He had accepted that the cat was out of the bag.
"DiNozzo, you gonna keep standing here or let us go back to our date?" Gibbs asked.
"I, um, wow. I got some many questions." Gibbs gave him his famous, which got Tony to solely look at you. "I got many questions." He said, lower.
"I can still hear you, DiNozzo, and most importantly, I can still see you."
You nodded to Tony with a smile, silently telling that you'll indulge his curiosity.
"Well," you laughed after Tony was finally gone. "I guess we're no longer in a secret relationship."
#ncis#jethro gibbs x reader#gibbs imagine#gibbs fanfic#gibbs#leroy jethro gibbs#ncis x reader#ncis fanfiction#tony dinozzo
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y'all are going to be so sick of me. for whumptober i have decided to FEED the NCIS fandom. Here are all of my NCIS fics and their corresponding days. lemme know if you wanna be tagged for my NCIS tag list, i'd love to tag anyone who wants to read :):)
> No.4 Gut feelings | Tony Dinozzo
> No.8 (alt. 14) Human shield | Tim McGee
> No.10 Warehouse Blues | Leroy Jethro Gibbs
> No.12 Stalkers and Scribes | Leroy Jethro Gibbs
> No.17 Hidden | Ziva David
> No.19 Left Behind | G. Callen
> No.21 Just Forget the World | Tony Dinozzo
> No.22 Blame Game | G. Callen
> No.26 Bullets and Broken Glass | G. Callen
> No.27 Soulmates | Tony Dinozzo
> No.28 Promises | Tony Dinozzo
> No.31 Loss | Leroy Jethro Gibbs
Masterlist | Whumptober Masterlist
also my NCIS requests are always open :):) (hint hint)
#ncis x reader#tony dinozzo x reader#leroy jethro gibbs x reader#jethro gibbs x reader#tim mcgee x reader#chiefdirector#talks#ailesswhumptober2023
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I am finally able to watch NCIS again! After Kate’s death watching the show was almost impossible for me, I couldn’t move past it and the only thing I could do was rewatch the 2 first seasons; but finally!! I am nearing the end of season 3 and I’m so excited to finally catch up with the series 🥹
#ncis#kate todd#ziva david#tony dinozzo#abby sciuto#leroy jethro gibbs#jenny shepard#ducky mallard#tim mcgee#rewatch#tony x ziva#tony x kate#sasha alexander
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Ziva: *sees Y/N and Gibbs together*
Ziva: They're cute. I would put them on a boat.
Dinozzo: You mean... you ship them?
#katherine mcnamara#face claim: katherine mcnamara#gibbs x reader#ncis gibbs#mark harmon#ncis imagine#ncis reader insert#jethro gibbs x reader#anthony dinozzo
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The Sounds of Justice - Master List
Warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, non-consensual drugging, descriptions of character death, mentions and descriptions of jail, car crashes, lying, manipulation, guns, yandere themes, mafia AU, mafia Rafael Barba (trust me, he needs the warning), mentions of rape (not to the reader), and unwanted advances (nothing happens to the reader).
A/N: This is my response to the mafia AU poll that I posted. It was a challenge to write it but it was worth it. Comments and reblogs are very much welcomed and I hope you enjoy the fic. Please take notice of the warnings; they are exactly the same as the warnings on this page and they will be at the top of each chapter.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
#my writing#my fics#the sounds of justice#rafael barba x reader#ncis x svu crossover#rafael barba#female reader#tony dinozzo#ziva david#jethro gibbs#jimmy palmer#ducky mallard#abby sciuto#nick torres#tim mcgee#ellie bishop#olivia benson#amanda rollins#mob au#sonny carisi#fin tutuola#mafia au#moodboard made by me on canva#images were found on google#credits to the original owners of the images#enemies to friends to enemies
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A Driving Force
An ancient ask from an old friend, it came to me in a dream. Viola.
Gibbs x Reader | No use of [Y/n] | 3.2 k | Mentions of Childbirth, swearing, pregnancy, mentions of sex, fluff with little to no angst
Pregnancy has got you ready to throttle your husband.
Nearly eight months pregnant, and you are going to kill someone.
Someone's name is Jethro.
Jethro, who- after your first baby- thought it would be a swell idea to have another (don't get me wrong, he is more than good at making them, it's the labor and the first trimester that does you in.) Jethro, who is at work and not at home making you tea or rubbing your calves, or doing literally anything other than being at work. It's driving you nuts, and your son may as well be training for the baby Olympics. There's no reprieve, not with a heating pad, not with an exercise ball, not with the piss-poor excuse for a nap you'd tried to take, nothing.
So you do what anyone would've done: You drive your ass to his work and give the security guards some vaguely veiled threats to let you up to the bullpen.
And naturally, he's nowhere to be found.
"I am going to kill that man," you grumble, reclining in his chair, leaning your head back, and closing your eyes. Ironically enough, the background noise helps- you feel more relaxed than at home.
The elevator dings, and in comes the trio. (McGee- you assume- is down in the lab. Jethro says he prefers it to fieldwork some days.) And- naturally- they're yelling.
"I had him!"
"You had shit! That dude outran you by miles! He's halfway to Timbuktu right now!"
"Dinozzo-"
"Boss, I am telling you-"
"Dinozzo."
They stop in the bullpen, and you stand, hand over your stomach, and downright glower at your husband. "Leroy."
Tony's face crumples into something like horror, Kate looks like a bomb might go off, and Jet- well, he looks a little south of terrified. As he should.
"Sweetheart," He walks toward you, hands outstretched, and immediately goes in for a gentle peck on the cheek. You swat him away. He frowns comically.
"Your son is driving me up a wall."
"You shouldn't be driving like this," he reaches down and caresses the bump. Damn him and his soft voice. Usually, you only hear it in the comfort of your home, never at work, and maybe that's what melts your resolve of putting up a fight.
You sigh, slouching into him and leaning your head into the crook of his neck. He takes it all in stride, cupping his hand on the back of your head, drawing circles with his thumb on that place where the base of your skull meets your neck. It makes you fall apart like a card tower. You groan- he has the decency not to laugh, just winds his other arm around your waist. "Is he giving you a hard time?" It's asked softly, gently, kindly, with all the warmth of a roaring fire and the bourbon in the basement. This is the Jet that makes you question if he's really an agent.
"He's been kicking my bladder for hours," you groan into his shirt. It smells like sawdust and mint. "You'd think he's training for boot camp in there."
Jethro rubs gently at your waist- Tony and Kate sit quietly at their desks and have the decency to stop arguing. Tony even takes a field trip to God knows where- it makes you smile. "Better or worse than Dani?"
Dani is your nearly five-year-old. A bundle of joy and Jethro's entire world, she has a smile to light up a room.
And a temper to rival Hell, she gets it from her dad, but he handles her well.
You scoff. "Dani didn't take up gymnastics, and if I recall correctly, you missed the first eight hours of my labor."
"Twenty more to go- didn't miss much." You smack him gently on the back, and he only chuckles and continues to rub the muscles of your hips and neck. "You damn near broke my hand."
"Twenty-eight hours of labor, Jethro. You're lucky I didn't break every bone in your body and shoot you." He mumbles something like 'touche', and you stand in silence for a moment. Jet quietly says 'here' and untangles himself from you (you nearly kill him) until he spins around. Facing your back and winding his arms around to your stomach, he reaches underneath your bump, intertwines his fingers, and lifts.
You come this close to moaning in the middle of NCIS headquarters.
Jet started doing this sometime towards the end of the second trimester when your bump became less of that and more like a mound. (These days, it feels more like a mountain.) The muscles in your abdomen relax, and the relief is instantaneous. Your head lols back onto his shoulder, and you kiss the underside of his jaw. "Thank you."
It comes out in a whisper, but he gets the idea and returns the gesture to your forehead. "'Course sweetheart," And then you just stand there. It could be hours- it could be seconds. Realistically, it was probably closer to ten minutes. Jethro is strong, despite his age and his appearance. If you asked him he could probably do this for another hour and then some. Come to think- he'd do anything you asked him to. And you'd do the same, quite frankly, but right now- right now this is plenty.
Jethro releases the weight of your baby boy slowly, oh-so-gently and it nearly makes you sob (damn pregnancy hormones) and hugs you from the side, careful not to undo the release he's just given you. You peck his cheek, leaning into the embrace, and close your eyes.
And then water splashes down your leg, down your pants, and onto a puddle in the NCIS bullpen.
Motherfucker.
Echoed both in your head and out loud by your husband, Tony chooses this perfect moment to come barreling into the room. "Boss, we got something- oh shit."
"Dinozzo, go get my car," and Jet hurls the keys at Tony's head. Tony, with all his goofiness and jokes, makes none about the situation and beelines for the staircase, Kate hot on his heels.
Contraction number one hits with full speed, nearly taking you to your knees, and Jet hugs you around your waist, keeping you from collapsing and yanking the phone from his back pocket. "If the nurse doesn't give me an epidural this time, you have my full permission to shoot them."
"Yes ma'am," he says, throwing the phone onto his desk. You don't see what he's done with it, you're too busy trying to stand.
The contraction fades, you rise, and Jethro rises with you. "You're early."
"Dani was three weeks early," you breathe deeply through your nose and out through your mouth.
"This is nearly four."
"Well, then, Jet, get a damn move on." And move he does. He makes sure you're standing steady first, before flying behind his desk to grab a bag. You do a double take. "You keep the hospital bag in your office?"
He gives you a quick peck on the cheek, slinging the bag over his shoulder and guiding you toward the elevator. "Been with me for two months now, sweetheart."
You're going to sob.
Jet's gentle hand on your elbow and back gets you both to the elevator in one piece. An agent- you don't know who- is standing there as the doors ding open. Jethro gives him a look that could freeze over hell as he turns around to ask what floor, and the mystery agent steps out.
You poke the 'G' button as another contraction punches through you. Jet gets you to lean against the cool metal wall as the elevator begins to move, and you grip his forearm tight. You're not swearing, not yet, just breathing deeply, but at this rate, you'll be calling the doctor a fuckwad the minute you walk through the hospital doors.
Tony and Kate (bless their hearts) have the car running right out of the elevator in the parking garage. Tony reaches for your arm to help you in but a sharp, "Hands off my wife, DiNozzo!" Stops him dead in his tracks. Kate steps in as Jet throws the bag in the backseat. He opens the passenger door while Kate leads you.
"You're gonna do great, call us when the baby's here, and we'll handle the case, Gibbs." The last part is directed toward your husband, who takes your other forearm as you sit gingerly in the car.
He drives like Jethro. Which is to say: Like a maniac.
You don't complain, even if it feels like you're in the middle of a police chase. He cuts the fifteen-minute drive to the hospital in half, skidding to a halt in front of the maternity wing, and barely remembers to turn off the car before reaching behind him to snag the bag and half-carry you to the doors. You can hardly blink before they've got you in a room, changed into a hospital gown, and are telling you to push.
Mike Leroy Gibbs' labor clocks in at a whopping two hours.
It's a very painful two hours. Jet may have threatened several doctors and nurses to give you an epidural (who complies, you don't know the details and you don't want to.) They whisk him away to check vitals and clean him up, though Jet also threatens to maim or seriously injure someone if Mike isn't in your arms in fifteen minutes.
He's returned rather quickly (you have a feeling you'll have to do damage control when you give a shit.) And he is the cutest bundle of warm brown hair and the brightest blue eyes you ever did see.
You don't let Jethro hold him for something close to an hour, you damn near fall asleep with him on your chest for a little while, but with a soft, "Jet, look at your son." He takes him
Jethro is pretty quiet while he holds him- he was the same with Dani, awestruck by her existence and speechless. He coos at Mike, who's fast asleep, and sways him gently back and forth. He sits down, the armchair pulled as close to your hospital bed as it can get, with one hand cradling your son and the other holding your hand, rubbing gentle circles on the meat of your thumb.
(You crushed his forearm during labor. Not literally, Jethro is still injury free, but there will be bruises in a few days. He knows how sore you are though, and if he wasn't occupied with his new son, you'd be sure he'd be giving you a massage. He was just as good- if not miles better- than when you gave birth to Dani. He was on a case, deep cover, and didn't get the phone call from Ducky or the hospital until you were well into labor. Ducky's phone call was far more urgent- Gibbs drove at least forty over to get to you.)
"Jet, I gotta call Donovan, he still has two more days with Dani-"
"Already taken care of sweetheart."
You're going to melt. Absolutely dissolve into a pile of lovey-dovey goo. "Thank you."
He brings your hand to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles. "He's on his way, your brother drives slower than I do-"
"Jethro, everyone drives slower than you."
The corner of his lips twitch upward at that, and he doesn't argue.
The room is... nice. It's the only way to describe it. You feed Mike, and Jet is respectful and goes to find you OJ while you do it. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable, hun. Figured you could just use some time with him, skin to skin."
Yeah, you're gonna cry.
You actually do, while he's away and Mike has finished. It's not sad tears, they're definitely happy. When Jethro comes back he seems to know it, you don't even have to say anything, he just sits on the side of the bed, curls an arm behind your shoulders, and pets your hair. There are kisses laid atop your head, and he rubs your bicep. He whispers in his soft voice, the one you're so used to hearing that when you visit him at work his 'Boss' tone makes you do a double take. (Is it hot? Absolutely. But there's nothing quite like the quiet tone he uses when he asks if you're ready for bed.)
You sniffle, Mike shifts in your arms as Jethro wipes a tear and a series of gentle knocks at the door sound through your hospital room. One, two, three, four, five, heads poke through the sliver in the open door. "Boss? Can we come in?"
Gibbs looks to you for permission before answering. You nod and smile softly, and he beckons to the agents. Abby and Kate file in first, closely followed by Tim, then Ducky, who holds the door open for Tony, who's carrying two huge plastic bags filled with something that smells magical.
Abby gives you the first hug, careful to avoid your newborn, she wraps an arm around your shoulder while Jethro untangles himself from you to help Tony. ("Did ya buy enough for the whole wing, Dinozzo?")
Kate comes in next, taking Abby's place with a hug around your shoulder. You share grins, and she asks you how the labor was- the conversation is easy and nice. (Everyone knows how bad Dani's labor was. You've come into the office a few times a month, usually with coffee or breakfast, or-hell, even dinner for your husband and his crew when the nights turn long. You used to come in once a week during the first trimester. You and Gibbs would be in the NCIS bathroom with your head in a toilet, hair held back, and circles rubbed on your shoulders. Those were rough days.)
"Do you wanna hold him?"
Kate looks a little dumbstruck. Ducky and Tim are giving her encouraging glances, grinning ear to ear. "Y-you're sure?"
You smile up at her, readjust, and hold Mike out. "Make sure to support his head, arm under his neck, keep the blanket- there you go." Kate kinda giggles- a breathy laugh escapes as she turns toward Gibbs and grins wide. He smiles back- then wider to you- and winks. To this day, it still gives you butterflies.
Kate moves around the room- pacing in circles, bounces your son in the crook of her elbow, and quietly talks with Ducky. Tim comes in for a small hug. "Congrats, Mrs. Gibbs. You feel alright?"
You scoff and pull him in with both arms. "I'm exhausted- I think Jet threatened someone for an epidural."
You give him a peck on the cheek as he steps back, unfolding himself. Tim blushes pink and smiles. "Anything I can do? Food? Clothes?" You nearly start crying again. "I make a mean quiche, waffles too- Abby's can vouch for me-"
You laugh (Jethro's eyes light up at the sound, Tony notices.) "That sounds wonderful, Tim. Thank you, I mean it."
He smiles, genuine, and you get the feeling sometimes Tony and Kate are a little hard on him. Then you remember how they rallied when he was in the hospital from a gunshot wound, and all those thoughts fade away.
"McGee! Get over here!" Tony yells from across the room, gesturing with a plastic knife.
Kate comes over to hand back Mike, but you gesture to Ducky. "Go ahead, Duck. I'm sure you've had your fair share of holding babies, don't make me lecture you."
Ducky smile kindly (everyone seems to be smiling lately, and as cheesy as it sounds, it makes you happy. The my-heart-hurts-with-happiness way. You think the work is thankful, but even that seems too small of a word for what you feel.) Kate hands Mike over, carefully, slowly- his head fits neatly into the palm of her hand, where it waits until Ducky re-settles the blanket over him.
Duckys' a natural- he sways with Mike and regals him with PG versions of his cases. Mike, sleepy and half-conscious, wiggles out of the blanket and wraps one of his teeny-tiny hands around the doctor's fingers. Abby and Kate coo and fold the blanket back over your son. They wiggle their own fingers at him, but Mike stays sound asleep, shifting minutely in Ducky's arms.
Tony comes in next for a one-armed, light hug. (You suspect Jet is behind that- you pull him in all the same. )
"Gibbs mentioned you were hungry," he gestures to the small table ladened with takeout boxes. "Said you were craving pasta."
You pull him back for another, tighter hug, gifting him with a peck on the cheek too, "Thank you, Tony, that's really sweet of you."
He blushes lightly, with a smug sort of look on his face. "You guys can keep the leftovers- McGee's idea."
You give his hand a squeeze instead of words, but he seems to get the idea, winking and holding up your shoulders while you sit up as Jet brings a plate over. He doesn't chastise Tony for his hand placement or the still-visible blush painted across his neck and cheeks, but you're more focused on the heavenly-smelling, rich, and sauce-loaded noodles being presented to you.
You groan. "You are a saint, hun. Thank you." You grab the plate and fork with eager hands. Tony laughs and meanders off to grab a plate of his own while Jet sits on the side of your bed. He's got his own plate- carefully portioned and balanced on one knee as he catches a noodle falling off your fork and nearly onto the sheets.
"Thanks," you reply with a mouthful, but it comes out more like a grunt. Jet gets the message anyway, smiling down at you. You're more at an even height now that you're sitting up, and you watch cheerfully as Ducky looks to you for permission to pass Mike to Abby.
Tim and Kate are chatting quietly. They look over at you and Jet once and a while. (You get the sneaky suspicion you won't have to cook or do chores in the house for months.) Tony is still ladling noodles onto his plate, and you watch as he hands a similar one to Ducky.
You didn't notice when they first entered- or maybe she was hiding it- but there's a little (not-so-little) bag sitting at Abby's feet as she takes Mike oh-so-gently from Ducky. You guess it might be something black- it'll contrast with his eyes, and you giggle internally at the thought. Abby sways over to Tony, rocking Mike in her arms- you think Tony calls him Giblet Number Two, and you roll your eyes playfully.
It hits you suddenly how happy you are, nearly knocks you breathless as you watch everyone crowd around Abby as Mike opens his eyes. This is... wonderful. You don't have words for it: you have everything you can ask for and more, and Jethro seems to read your mind (as always.) He reaches down to squeeze your free hand, looking sideways through his eyelashes. "I'm proud of you, sweetheart."
You smile tearily at him. "I know."
#jethro gibbs#leroy jethro gibbs#gibbs#ncis#gibbs x reader#jethro gibbs x reader#pregnancy#I did my very best with this#not entirely accurate#I've never given birth so#swearing#mentions of sex#tony dinozzo#Caitlin Todd#childbirth#abby sciuto#ducky mallard#tim mcgee#ncis imagine#jethro gibbs imagine
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Firearm Training - Abby Sciuto x Gibbs'!Daughter Reader
Pairing: Abby Sciuto x Gibbs'!Daughter Reader
Includes: fluff, slight hurt/angst?, cute moments with Abby, Abby comforting you, soft Gibbs moment because he’s your dad
Warnings: guns, shooting guns (at paper targets)
Word Count: 2395 (I hope this finds people who also love Abby bc it’s so rare that I make it to 2000 words)
Brief Description: Your dad (Gibbs) wanted you to learn firearm safety and how to shoot a gun after several incidents of members of his team and/or their loved ones being targeted. You did fine for most of the lesson but did not handle live fire well. You had an emotional reaction to it but tried to push through until Abby came up to comfort you. Your dad took you and her to get milkshakes and cookies after to help you feel better.
~~~
Firearm training. You were here because your dad wanted you to learn firearm safety and how to shoot a gun. You weren’t fond of loud noises; you preferred bows and crossbows to a gun anyday. However, after several incidents of the team being targeted and even your girlfriend Abby being violently stalked by an ex, you could understand your dad wanting you to learn how to use a gun. Most of the team was there, save for Ducky and Palmer. It was you, Abby, Tony, Tim, Ziva, Director Shepard, and your dad for the day on a private outdoor range with one of your dad’s friends as the instructor. You used one of your dad’s pistols for the day, with “GIBBS”written on the side of the magazine. The guns were all on tables for now as for the first section of the day, your group was reviewed on the build and mechanisms of standard pistols and magazines.
Sitting in a circle with the team, you learned firearm safety: how to carry and handle a pistol safely; the build and parts of a basic pistol: how to take it apart, clean it, reassemble it; and its functions: how to load rounds into a magazine followed by how to load and unload a pistol without shooting it. You did a few rounds of safety checks and learned to never assume it’s unloaded. You practiced dry firing it and the instructor helped you with your hand positioning and grip; your stance was already solid from your previous years in martial arts. The dry fire shooting felt easy going and made you feel cool as you heard the click of shooting imaginary bullets at the target. Your dad and girlfriend both looked at you often with proud expressions on their faces as you quickly picked up each concept and were doing quite well in the course thus far.
It was 4 hours into the course and was finally time for lunch. After lunch it would be time to start shooting live rounds at paper targets. However, for now you all just gathered round and decided to go to a local diner for lunch. It was a 20 minute drive there, and despite there being 8 of you, you were all seated right away as the town you were in was remote enough for the diner to be sparse on patrons. You sat next to Abby, Director Shepard next to her, and the instructor at the end of your side of the table. Ziva was in front of you then, Tony, McGee, and your dad filling the other 3 seats on that side of the table respectively. You and Abby ordered fried chicken and waffles to share, your dad and Shepard got steaks, Ziva, Tony, and McGee got sandwiches, and the instructor got a burger. You all took your time to enjoy the meal in each others’ company, you occasionally leaning your head on Abby’s shoulder or her stealing a bite of the waffle you were nibbling on. After much enjoyment and frivolity, you all ended up returning to the range an hour and a half later for the second half of the course.
You got out of Abby’s car and walked over to the range, Shepard and the instructor already waiting on the course as they rode with your dad, and Tony was close on the way driving Ziva and McGee. You, Abby, your Dad, and director Shepard were already set up as you and Abby were borrowing a pair of your dad’s spare handguns that he stored in his car. Each of your respective guns and accessories were set on the tables, now accompanied by trays of live rounds. Tony’s, Ziva’s and McGee’s guns and gear were with them already, and they would have to set it up themselves upon arriving. The trio soon arrived, and as they got set up, the instructor had the rest of you start with putting on your noise canceling headphones and safety glasses. You glanced over at Abby, adored at how amazing she looked even in the firearm noise canceling headphones and glasses, the headphones set against her bow topped pigtails. The instructor then called for a safety check, followed by loading your magazines with a few live rounds. You were starting to feel a bit anxious as you’d never fired a live round before and the instructor warned you’d need a firm grip to counter the power of shooting live rounds. Before picking up the guns to load in the magazines, Abby leaned over and kissed your cheek— likely leaving a lipstick mark— and gave your hand a squeeze. “You’ll do fine,” she assured you with a gentle smile, clearly noticing your nerves start to kick in.
You lined up with the rest of your group, the instructor on your left to help with your lesson, and Abby on your right for moral support. The instructor led for everyone to begin. Each in your group aimed their guns forward and the instructor made minor adjustments to your grip before telling you to place your finger on the trigger and fire when ready. Before you could do so, you heard the first few shots fired from the team and flinched, your eyes closing at the same time. You opened them and took a deep breath trying to brush it off and fixed your own aim. The instructor had held up her hand to signal everyone else to stop firing so as to let you focus. You aimed at the target, took a deep breath, and slowly pulled the trigger as instructed. On the outside you appeared calm, but it felt like winding a jack in the box until *BANG!* You jumped and your hands were shoved up as your body absorbed the inertia of the shot. You looked at your instructor and pasted a smile on your face as she told you that you’d done well. Tears started to form in the corners of your eyes but you fought them, slightly confused as to why they were forming as you didn’t feel particularly sad. You flashed your plastered smile at Abbs, and she smiled in return as she took a few shots herself. You still flinched at every loud bang, but you pushed it all down. It was fine, you were fine. You asked the instructor for some advice on how to avoid losing your grip again, “Uhh, how do I keep my hands from shooting up when the gun fires and keep my grip?”. The instructor moved you into position and put her hands over yours on the gun, “you gotta make sure there is no space between your hands and hold your (dominant) hand firmly with your (non-dominant) hand”. You nodded, giving an ok in response before the instructor took a break to use the restroom. Abbs had finished a few rounds and put her gun on the table before coming up to you from the side. She laid a hand on your back and left a gentle kiss on the back side of your neck, “I’ll be over at the tent babe, you’re doing great!”, she informed you before returning cheerfully to the tent set up for breaks and spectating. It was now you, Ziva, McGee, Tony, and Director Shepard on the range. Your dad was watching from the tent along with Abbs who had just sat in one of the chairs to spectate with him.
You prepared to take another shot and aimed at the target when Ziva came up beside you, “Fix your grip, there’s a gap between your hands again.” You did as she told you and thanked her before putting your finger on the trigger and slowly pulling it again. *BANG!* You jump again and silent tears form. You try to push through and keep your gaze forward so as to not let anyone onto the tears nearly falling down your face. You take a deep breath your heart racing, fixing your grip before pulling the trigger a third time, *BANG!* Silent tears start to fall down your cheeks, still baffling you as you don't feel sad or upset. A sniffle tips off Ziva who leans over to look at your face. She notices the tears and bluntly inquires, "What are the tears for? You're only shooting at a paper." You feel bad for not being able to stop it and feel pressured to suck it up, responding that you’re fine and start setting up for another shot. Abby heard from the chairs set up at the tent behind the shooting range and immediately made her way over, your father Gibbs behind her. Your calm steadiness starts to waver as your hands begin to shake. You breathe, put your finger on the trigger and take your 4th shot, losing your grip on the gun as your hands start to shake even more. You bring your (non-dominant hand) back onto the gun and aim at the target once more, hands and arms shaking profusely and tears streaming down your face, blurring your vision a bit.
Ziva is baffled at your emotional state, giving you a confused look as to why this is making you cry. You didn’t really understand why yourself, you just knew you couldn’t stop it or hold it back even though you didn’t necessarily feel upset. You hear another couple shots from Tony and McGee and flinch again. By this time, Abby has finally made it to you and pressed her body against your back, wrapping one arm around you and grabbing the gun out of your hands with the other. You turn and melt into her, tears still falling down your face and she rubs her thumb against your back trying to calm you a bit, “Darling, it’s ok, you did so good. You don’t have to keep going.” Your dad makes it over and looks to Ziva who is still perplexed, “Stop staring and take the gun from Abby would ya?!” You bury yourself further into Abby as Ziva takes the gun out of Abby’s hand and places it on the table. Now with a free hand, Abby turns the volume all the way off on your headphones to reduce the loudness of the gunshots. You look up at her. “It helps a bit to have the volume all the way down” she tells you as she holds your face and wipes the tears away with her thumb. You bury your face into her neck and she wraps her other arm around you, holding you close and whispering affirmations and sweet nothings into your ear. Your dad puts a hand on your shoulder, standing behind Abby to talk to you, “Hey, you did good kid. You can stop if you want to. I just wanted you to know how to shoot if you ever need to. Now you can.” Abby walked you over to the tent and sat against a table, keeping you in her arms as you calmed down, rubbing circles on your back with her thumb. The rest of the team kept on shooting, your Dad taking your place in the lineup. Director Shepard came over and leaned against the table beside Abby, placing a hand on your back and reassuring you, “Hey, you’re ok.” She smiled, and you tried to smile back in return, still shaking a bit. “You can sit over here with us while they finish the course, no need to go back out.” After a few minutes, your breathing had finally evened out again, and Abby brought you around the table to the chairs while keeping you close to her. She sat down and guided you to sit in her lap as Director Shepard sat in the chair beside hers. You sat across her lap, legs over the side of the chair, and leaned into her. You kept your head on her shoulder as she put one around your waist and left the other one free. You still flinched at most of the shots the rest of the team took so Abby pulled out your book to distract you a bit. She held you in her arms and read your book with you until the shooting course was over.
Afterwards, the team packed up all their gear and put it into their respective cars, your dad packing up for you and Abby as both of you had borrowed his spare pistols for the course. Tony, Ziva, and McGee left first, bidding the rest of you farewell. Your dad came up to you and Abby, both of you still consumed in the book, and pulled it down to get both your attention, “Hey, how about we go to the diner for milkshakes before heading home?” You liked the idea. Shepard joined the three of you; she had felt like a mother to you and Abby. The instructor bid you all a farewell as she had her own car to return home with and still had to pack up the course for the night.
Around 20 minutes later, you had arrived at the diner and been seated in a 4 person booth, you and Abby on one side and Gibbs and Shepard on the other. Your dad ordered a chocolate malt shake, Shepard a Vanilla one, and Abby a Black and White (think chocolate and marshmallows). You still felt shaken so Abby, knowing your favorites, ordered your favorite milkshake as well as a double order of chocolate chip cookies for you and her to share. Once the waitress had gone to put in your orders, Abby pulled you close by the waist and the two of you sat nuzzled up together. You remained like this still when your orders arrived and as you enjoyed the sugary rewards of the day. After you were done, the sun was starting to set so your dad paid the bill and you all headed out: Shepard with Gibbs and you with Abbs. She had her hand either on your thigh or laced into your hand for half of the ride to your house where she was spending the night. Your dad cooked dinner that night for the four of you and Shepard headed home at around 9pm. You and Abby remained cuddled up for the rest of the night before finally falling asleep, wrapped together in each other's arms.
#fluff#x-reader#abby sciuto x reader#abby sciuto#abbs#gibbs#leroy jethro gibbs#jethro gibbs#slight angst#slight hurt/comfort#ncis#anthony dinozzo#ziva david#timothy mcgee#director shepard#jenny shepard#firearm training#girls with guns#handgun#ncis fanfiction#ncis fandom#pauley perrette#ncis x reader#abby x reader#abby sciuto ncis#abby sciuto x y/n#abby sciuto x you#sapphic#girlfriends#wlw
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may i request sugar daddy!gibbs? <3
Money, Money, Money (Sugar Daddy! Gibbs x Reader)
Late night, black coffee, handsome man, all alone. Third time this week, 5th week in a row you’ve seen him. You flirted often fishing for bigger tips, trying to pay bills you couldn’t even afford to have. You lived on your own. 18 years old, last 2 months of high school, and barely a plan and money to plan life with.
“See you’re here again!” You say happily topping him off.
“Hey! Rough week” he sighed, eyeing you gently.
“You work at… don’t tell me” you say trying to remember. “NCIS!” You exclaim.
“Good memory” he smiles. “How are you (y/n)?” He asks.
“Ah I’m alright. Just trying to get off work as soon as possible, you know” you shrug. “Later it gets the scarier it is outside.”
“Well, what time do you get off?” Gibbs asks.
“12” you sigh, looking towards the clock. Only 9:45. “Got about 2 hours left”
“Yeah, remember the goal kid.” Gibbs smiled. “Say, what college do you plan on attending? I remember you saying you were a senior and it’s almost the end of the year.”
“Oh, college.” You say quietly. “I can’t afford it, so I won’t be going. Maybe in the future” his phone began ringing. He clicked it silent before turning to you,
“Ah I see… well (y/n) have a good night. I’ve gotta get back to work” he stands.
“See ya around, Jet” you saluted him.
“Jet…” he said thoughtfully. “I like that!!”
Time skip~
The clock hit 12 and your shift was over. You walked out to see a familiar face leaning against a car. You smiled as he approached you.
“Hey Jet! What’re you still doin out?”
“Driving you home” he shakes his keys. “Scary out here” you can see a smirk.
“Coming from a guy who’s packing” you roll your eyes as you approach the car. You were gonna let yourself get a ride with a man who had a gun… a lot safer than walking an hour without a gun. That was how you justified getting into that car.
“Oh shut up” he opened the door and you got in.
When you arrived at your shitty apartment that you could barely afford you saw Gibbs eyes search the perimeter.
“I’ll walk you in… I don’t like the looks of that guy on the corner” he motions with his head.
“It’s really alright. Thank you for the ride!” You say opening your door. Jethro reached across and shut it before you could step out. Silently he got out and walked around the car. Opening it.
“Let’s go” he grinned sweetly. You caved and bring him up. His eyes fell on your small apartment. Clean, organized, your life could fit in a box. He made notes of things to buy you.
“Well since you’re up here” you say as you take off your coat. “Coffee? Tea? Might actually have a bottle of soda in the fridge…” you trail as you thought about it.
“Coffee’s great, yeah” he accepts. The two of you stayed up talking late into the night before he left. Your insecurity of what you could afford present in the back of your mind.
A few days later~
You woke up to a knock on your front door. You opened it to see a delivery guy at your door.
“Delivery for a…” he looked at his clipboard. “(Y/n)(l/n)”
“Yeah, yeah that’s me” you say. “What is this?” The man shrugged.
“A car? If you didn’t order it, not my problem. I can’t take it back.” He said as you signed the paper. He handed you the keys. “Beautiful car by the way” he walked away. You closed the door behind you, walking downstairs. Outside you eagerly clicked the key, looking around for the car, your eyes finally settling on the black dodge challenger sitting in a parking spot a few meters down.
“Oh my god” you say nearly in tears. You ran back upstairs and hurriedly got dressed for work, hoping to see Jethro there. And sure enough when you pulled up in your new car, there was Jethro, leaning on his car again.
“You fucking bastard” you run and hug him, you cry happily into his shoulder. He laughed as you did so.
“Wait wait, I get you a car and you call me Bastard!!!” He exclaimed. “I got something else for you…” he digs his hand into his pocket, another key coming out on his finger.
“Jethro…” you say looking at it as a bright green address tag danced in your eyes.
“Coffee first. Key later” you nodded as you lead him inside.
Time skip~
You ended your shift early to go with Jethro. You blindly tailed him into a nicer apartment complex in a better part of Quatico. Your heart began to flutter as you parked.
You walked into a nice apartment on the 3rd floor. Beautiful black granite kitchen tops, newly installed appliances.
“So…” he says. “What furniture were you thinking you wanted for your new apartment?” He says handing you magazines.
“Holy shit.” You whisper. “This is mine?” He nodded. “This place is mine?” You gasp.
“All paid off. So is the car. And so is your degree.”
“Degree?” You ask. “No you didn’t”
“Yes. I did” he smiled.
“Shut up” you tear up as he passes you a folder. The big words ‘WELCOME TO VIRGINIA TECH’ inscribed. “How did you-“
“Pulled some strings… I think your 1560 SAT score and perfect GPA helped a lot…” he said.
“Oh my god” you cry out jumping into his arms. “I will pay it all back” you say.
“Nope. No need. Just keep being a good girl and I will give you the world” he says.
“Thank you so much!!”
“Of course! You deserve it” he winked. “Now pick out some furniture. It’s your reward for getting into Virginia Tech” you kisses your cheek.
#ducky mallard#jethro gibbs#ncis#tony dinozzo#x reader#ncis fandom#ncis fanfiction#ncis x reader#ncis x readers#tony dinozzo x reader#timothy x reader#gibbs x reader#jethro gibbs x reader#anthony dinozzo x reader#ncis reader insert#ncis imagine#ncis smut#ncis gibbs#ncisverse#reader insert#fem reader#tony dinozzo smut#smut#tony dinozzo fluff#fluff#x yn#yn
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Friendly Lies
A/N: This is my first post/story, I’ve written before on Wattpad but never committed to writing but I feel like this is something I can actually commit too. Let me know any NCIS requests and I’m hoping to open up my writing to other fandoms soon too. This is definitely a testament to my ability to yap. Apologies for any mistakes :)
Also, I know the timelines probably don’t match up in terms of Gibbs knowing Tobias etc and Tobias having another daughter, or maybe they do, I don’t know but I thought it was a fun idea so belief will just have to be suspended. ;)
NCIS y/n fanfic, slight y/n x tony dinozzo, tony dinozzo x reader
Word count: 1969
Summary: Fornell’s daughter, Gibbs' Goddaughter, is an FBI agent working a case with her father and Godfather and decides to help get her dad to leave McGee alone after he found him asleep on the sofa with his ex-wife (I loved that episode so much) at Tony’s expense.
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You’d only known Tim, Tony and Ziva for a few weeks but already you knew you’d be great friends. After only knowing them for 5 minutes the day you ended up sharing a case with both your father and godfather, you were making plans to hang out with them. Your godfather, or your Uncle Gibbs as you preferred to call him, was of course more than happy to see you and be working with you, although the protective dad act from the NCIS and FBI agents had driven you slightly insane. Although you loved the rare times when you and your father shared an FBI case, that time had made you nearly want to quit, which had driven you straight to Gibbs’ team, who were more than welcoming and friendly to you.
Now, you sat on Ziva’s desk, chatting to her and McGee while your father and godfather interrogated a suspect and Tony watched.
‘And that’s why your dad hates me’, concluded McGee after explaining to you what he described as the ‘incident’ between your dad and his ex-wife Diane. Both you and Ziva had been laughing the entire time he told the story.
‘I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, Tim’, you smiled at him ‘he’s only mentioned it a few times.’
‘A few?’ Tim asked in horror, causing Ziva to snort in laughter. This topic had taken up a good 20 minutes and it had clearly been playing on his mind for a long time before that.
‘Look if you want me to talk to him I can’ you offered, trying to ease Tim’s obvious panic, but your offer only seemed to send McGee into a further state of pure anxiety.
‘No, absolutely not, that would only add to it.’ He spoke moving his chair slightly as it was currently situated next to Ziva’s desk where you were congregated. As Tim moved you gaze shifted to DiNozzo’s desk and an idea popped into your head.
‘McGee, I’m sure y/n’s right, Fornell can’t be holding on to a grudge for that long.’
‘He brings it up every time we see him!’ Tim insisted.
‘Hang on’ you quickly said jumping up from Ziva’s desk and captivating both agent’s attention, ‘I think I know how to get my dad to forget about you and Diane.’
‘First of all there was no me and Diane’ Tim quickly insisted, causing the pair of female agents to roll their eyes as they failed to hold in their laughs ‘But what’s the idea because I will do anything to make him stop bringing it up?’. Both agents’ gazes were fixed on you as you moved from Ziva’s desk to sit on Tonys.
‘Oh you wouldn’t have to do anything McGee, it would be all me’, you smirked as the two agents watched eagerly, ‘this isn’t entirely selfless though, remember when Tony told Gibbs and my dad that I’d been sleeping with an NCIS agent to try and piss them off? And it took me weeks to convince them he was just trying to mess with me and them?’, the two NCIS agents nodded, smirks growing on their faces as they pieced together what you were planning to do, ‘well I think it’s time I get Tony back for that, don’t you?’.
Just as you said this your father and Gibbs reappeared into the room and as they did, you got up from Tony’s desk and made a beeline for them, meeting them just in front of Gibbs’ desk.
‘Dad, Uncle Gibbs I need to talk to you’ you said, grabbing their attention in the most serious and anxious voice you could muster, grabbing one of their hands in each of yours, ‘I know this is really important and I want to be honest with you both’ you took a deep breath to highlight your nervousness. At this point you had captured your father’s and Godfather’s attention, squeezing their hands as you raised your eyes to meet theirs you finally said, ‘I’m pregnant.’
Now Ziva and Tim were clearly shocked and impressed by your lies, hiding their laughter surprisingly well and instead adorning looks of shock and intrigue. Your father and godfather on the other hand, with hands still held by yours, were looking at you with such pure shock your father had turned slightly white. Before they could even utter a word, you quickly continued, ‘and its Tony’s’.
At this revelation, McGee and Ziva quickly turned so that Gibbs and Fornell couldn’t see the laughter that was daring to burst out. The silence was quickly broken by a synchronised ‘WHAT?’ from the two men who held your hands. Their gazes had turned harsher, but you knew that if you wanted this to have the best effect you had to really milk it.
‘I know we haven’t known each other long’ you stated looking them both in the eyes, but were quickly interrupted by your father half shouting, ‘How did this happen?’, quickly followed by Gibbs’ ‘I’m sorry what?!’
Before you could think of an answer though everyone’s attention was diverted in the sound of a voice, Tony’s voice, ‘hey boss. Fornell. You look like you’ve seen a ghost, what did y/n do? Tell you she’s pregnant? I told you she was sleeping with an NCIS agent.’, as he Tony laughed at his own joke, Tony sauntered towards his desk, but only for a second before Fornell was on him, pinning him to the wall. Tony’s face quickly shifted to panic and confusion, his eyes scanning the room.
‘You got my daughter pregnant!’, Fornell shouted.
‘What? No’ DiNozzo squeaked out as Gibbs removed Fornell from him, freeing him from the wall. You quickly shifted your eyes to where Tim and Ziva were still at Ziva’s desk, attempting to contain their laughter. You knew you didn’t have long before the two of them blew the prank, but you also knew that the damage would be done soon enough and you would have got Tony back and your dad would definitely forget about finding McGee and Diane on the sofa asleep together.
Suddenly Tony rushed over to you seeking some sort of explanation or help but before he could squeak out another word, you grabbed his arm hugging it slightly and turning the pair of you to face Gibbs and Tobias.
‘Me and Tony are in love, dad, you can’t stop our love’ but as you got to the end of your sentence McGee and Ziva had burst into full belly laughter, causing you too to crack and lean on Tony as you couldn’t stop laughing. As the three of you continued to laugh, Gibbs only rolled his eyes at your antics, shaking his head slightly and letting out a slight chuckle. He knew that DiNozzo had told Tobias that you were sleeping with someone at the agency to piss him off and he also knew that your dad had practically become a helicopter parent for a week after he had done so.
As Gibbs moved back towards his desk, you patted tony on the chest before calming yourself enough to say, ‘you should have seen your face’. Quickly, McGee walked behind you both to return to his desk, slapping Tony on the back as he continued to laugh at Tony’s expense. He stopped by your side quickly whispering to you how he was now free from any comments about Diane. Your gaze then shifted to your father who still stood in front of you both, surprisingly quite but glaring at you both.
‘Gotta keep you young dad.’ You smiled at him, kissing his check and moving back to Ziva’s desk, the pair of you still giggling and smiling. Your dad however, kept his gaze on Tony, glowering at him, as Tony seemed to continue to shrink under his glare, still looking stunned and scared. Finally his gaze shifted as Gibbs called him telling him to go down to autopsy to see Abby with him.
At first he didn’t move, continuing to stare, before finally moving when he heard his name shouted by Gibbs. ‘I still don’t trust you DiNozzo.’ Tobias said, finally moving towards Gibbs’ desk, his gaze remaining on Tony until they were out of site.
At this point you, McGee and Ziva all began to laugh again with the same force you did when your dad had pinned Tony to the wall.
‘I did not think you would take it that far’ commented Ziva, ‘I admire your commitment’. You smiled at her amongst the laughter but couldn’t respond as tony too moved towards Ziva’s desk, where McGee had now joined you and began to stare at you all.
‘Not funny guys, I thought I was going to die!’, Tony’s statement only caused more laughter though, as his hand reached his neck, fiddling with his shirt collar even though your father had only grabbed his shoulders. Finally you spoke through the laughter, ‘I told you I was going to get you back Tony and McGee needed by dad to lay off him about the whole thing with my ex stepmother, so really I was just helping a friend’ you smiled a sickly sweet smile at him before the phone at his desk began to ring causing Tony to quickly scurry over to his desk, grabbing the phone before answering.
‘Yes boss?’ he questioned into the phone, as you high fived Tim and Ziva, ‘right away boss’, followed by him quickly grabbing his things after he put down the phone. ‘Gibbs says Abby’s matched the ballistics from the gun, wants me and Y/N to bring in the suspect.’ He stated as he continued to gather his stuff. As you listened, you quickly grabbed your bag that was sat next to Gibbs’ desk, but before you could leave Gibbs and your father returned, arguing as they walked.
‘I’ll go with DiNozzo Gibbs’ your dad argued, his gaze landing on Tony, at which point Tony swallowed.
‘No you’re not’, Gibbs deadpanned.
‘Then, I’ll go with them both’ he stated as he moved towards the pair now standing together with their bags, but not before Gibbs grabbed his shoulder directing him towards the director’s office and repeating ‘No you’re not’.
As you and Tony turned and began to walk towards the elevator, he quickly began to argue with you. ‘You know your dad is going to kill me, right?’ he questioned as you pressed the elevator button, your gaze shifting to him.
‘No he won’t’ you dismissed, ‘but he won’t trust you for a while, just like how he’s been hovering over me for weeks after you told him I was secretly sleeping with someone at your office, or like how he constantly brings up that time he found Diane and McGee together asleep. I guess it’s just time for you to get a taste of what we’ve been putting up with for years now.’ You smirked as the elevator reached your floor and you stepped inside, turning slightly as you watched Tony’s face change from looking like he was about to argue, to just giving up.
‘You know’, he turned to look at you, smirking, fully grasping your attention, ‘if you were to sleep with anyone in this office, I’d be the perfect guy. You’ve already told your dad and although he’ll keep glaring at me and probably wanting to kill me, he’d never suspect that we were actually sleeping together.’ He said, waggling his eyebrows at you as you chuckled, and he reciprocated your laughter.
As the elevator doors, reopened on the ground floor, you turned away from Tony, shaking your head slightly and rolling your eyes , before simply stating, ‘In your dreams DiNozzo’ before walking out of the elevator, not missing Tony’s whispered reply, ‘oh you bet’, before he followed you out to find your suspect.
#tony dinozzo#tony dinozzo x reader#ncis fanfiction#leroy jethro gibbs#ncis#agent gibbs#ncis imagine#anthony dinozzo#ziva david#tim mcgee#tobias fornell
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Love is Like a Butterfly
The day started just like any other. Get up at 5 am, make coffee, get ready, head to work. The last thing on Leroy Jethro Gibbs’ mind was falling for the newest member of the team. But there was something about the way she demonstrated kindness not only to the victim’s family and friends, but to random people she met during her day at work. Or maybe it was her infectious smile that seemed to light up any room she was in, or the fact that she seemed to never let the horrors of the job faze her, she was always the same optimistic, kind person day after day.
“Grab your gear, we got a body.” The familiar voice of her boss rang through the air as she was telling DiNozzo about her weekend. She rushed to meet the team in the elevator and she would be lying if she said she didn’t notice how close Gibbs was to her. So close in fact, their hands brushed against each other’s. Or maybe it was how vivid his baby blue eyes are or how softly he speaks to Abby. The car ride to the crime scene was relatively quiet except for the odd movie quote thrown out by DiNozzo and Ziva getting confused at whatever movie quote DiNozzo was talking about.
They meet Palmer and Ducky there, as well as McGee who drove the evidence van. The crime scene was in the middle of a meadow on the outskirts of a forest. After the evidence was bagged, photos were taken, and Palmer and Ducky drove off, Gibbs realized she had disappeared a few minutes ago. It didn’t take long to find her. She was standing almost perfectly still, and at the very edge of her fingertip, was a monarch butterfly.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t notice how almost angelic she looked. The sun was making her hair appear brighter and if he really looked hard enough, he could see the lighter strands of hair that oh so gently framed her face. She had the look of pure delight on her face as the butterfly delicately crawled around her hand for a bit then breezily flew away. He would also be lying if he said he didn’t start to fall for her right then and there. Little did they both know, their developing feelings were not one-sided at all.
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