#gibbs x you

[crazycurly-77]

Flowers for Mrs. Gibbs

Fandom: NCIS

Pairing: Gibbs x reader

Warnings: pure fluff

Dear @dreamy-state-of-mind, thank you for the wonderful prompt for this story. Enjoy!

Everything seemed normal that day. There was no case to solve, no special incidents and nothing. It was pure routine.

And it was normal for messengers to come and go. But it was unusual, however, for them to bring flowers.

The young man who brought them was apparently practical, because he stood in the middle of the bullpen and called out loudly:

“Flowers for Mrs. Gibbs!!”

His voice faded away and silence spread. In fact, it was dead silent, because everyone had abruptly stopped what they were doing and interrupted their conversations. You would have heard it if a pin had dropped.

Tony confidently walked up to the boy and said: “There must be some confusion. There is only one Mr. Gibbs here.”

But the messenger remained persistent:

“No, no, no. I’ve been instructed to give these flowers to Mrs. Y/N Gibbs.”

At that moment, you and Gibbs came out of the principal's office and wondered why everyone was so quiet.

Obviously it had something to do with Tony and a flower delivery man who were standing in the middle of the desks.

When Tony saw you coming towards him, he said with relief: “Hey boss, Y/N. Nice to see you here.”

Gibbs just looked at him sternly: “DiNozzo. Don't you have anything to do?”

“Uhm, yes, boss,” he replied before looking at you: “But the boy is bringing flowers for you. He just wrote down the wrong name.”

Since you could imagine what the “problem” was, especially after the conversation with the principal, you just smiled at Tony and left it to Jethro to sort it out.

Unlike you, Gibbs didn't bat an eyelid, but just raised both eyebrows and asked interestedly: “So? Which one?” The question was actually superfluous because he knew the answer, but he just had too much fun teasing Tony a little.

"The flowers are for Mrs. Y/N Gibbs, Sir," the boy replied with his head held high and a firm voice, as if he were giving a prize.

"I already told him that it must be a misunderstanding, boss. But he absolutely doesn't want to believe it," Tony hurried to explain.

"Who are the flowers from?" Jethro wanted to know.

"From Mr. Tobias Fornell," the flower man answered.

Against all expectations, Gibbs laughed out loud and you ran your hand over your face. The colleagues had expected a lot, but not that the boss seemed to be very amused by the mix-up.

When he had calmed down enough, he grinned, shook his head and muttered:

"Good old Fornell..."

The messenger was slowly becoming restless, because this had been going on for far too long.

"Sir, I have to move on. Am I in the right place or not?" he wanted to know.

Gibbs smiled at him, pressed a tip into his hand and replied:

"Yes, you're in the right place. Give me the flowers."

"Thank you, Sir. Have a nice day!" the boy called, gave him the bouquet and ran to the elevator.

Tony still couldn't believe how such a gross mix-up could have happened: "We've worked with the FBI so many times and they still can't get it right. They really have no idea if they mix up names so massively."

Gibbs was in his element. He grinned at him, handed you the bouquet, leaned over to you and gave you a short but loving kiss on the lips.

As the boss intended, DiNozzo stood there and stared at him with his mouth wide open.

But Jethro couldn't help himself and went one step further. He looked at his team member and said with a broad grin: "That's because it wasn't a mix-up."

At the same time, you raised your hand and showed him your new ring.

Tony's jaw dropped.

Then Gibbs went grinning to his desk and you went to the elevator towards the forensic lab that you share with Abby and you were sure that she already knew the news by the time you got to her place.

The End

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Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27, @dreamy-state-of-mind

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[inkdrinkerworld]

HIS M.E

Jethro has a little crush on Ducky’s caffeine addicted assistant ME and he’s trying very hard not to let it show.

A/n: I JUST NEED THIS OUT OF MY BRAIN OKAY? All fluff and a little secret feelings! Everyone knows they like each other though, I’m sure they’ve got betting pools for when Jethro is finally going to ask you out; or you ask him.

Gibbs finds you adorable but fights it every time he comes into autopsy. You’re a caffeinated, energizer bunny of a person, but you’re an incredible medical examiner.

You’re the youngest on the team, and you’re cute. He’s not blind and he’s not ignorant to his feelings.

He is, however, not going to act on them.

You’re Ducky’s assistant and you’re whip smart, he likes that the most about you.

How quick you’re able to make connections, how you carry on Ducky’s thoughts and ask just the right question when the investigation gets a little stuck.

Jethro likes you, and he suspects you know it.

��What do you have for me Duck?” He asks as the doors to autopsy open, and finds only you, slurping a Caff-Pow that Abby got you hooked on.

“Oh, Ducky went out.” You say, slipping your hands back into gloves as you start moving over to the body on the table.

“What did you find?” If his voice softens just a fraction that’s no one’s business.

“The victim died from asphyxiation, there’s also gunshot wounds, but based on the way the skin tissue looks, it was all postmortem.” Jethro watches as you point and gesture to the body, voice steady even if you seem a little excited that you’ve got his full attention.

“The killer had to have been someone they knew, because there’s no sign of a struggle on the body. Maybe they were asleep? We’re still waiting for the brain sample results to come in.”

He’s about to walk out when you turn to him.

“I wasn’t finished, Jethro.” You and Ducky are the only ones who call him that now, and he won’t lie it makes his heart speed a little; he definitely ignores that because he’s too old.

Instead, he stops at the door, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

“What else, Y/n?” He tries to sound exasperated, but his fondness for you colours his words completely.

You giggle at the realization, and sit on the stool as you continue.

“There’s also this case of enucleation. Ducky and I can’t be sure, but it looks like this was also done postmortem. The question is why. None of the other marines lost their eyes, just this one.”

He sighs, long and hard. It is a weird trait to have on only one of the bodies.

“Maybe this one was the important one. Did Abby get a hit on the identification of the body?”

Just then she calls and you rush over to answer her call.

“Anything Abs?” You ask, leaning into the screen and giving her your full attention.

Gibbs smiles, watching you listen with rapt attention to every side story Abby gives you.

“Abby, the name?” He calls from behind you and you straighten like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar before dinner.

“Oh hey Gibbs,” he gives her a little nod, coming to stand just beside you. “The victim’s name is Lieutenant Georgia Landon. She wasn’t married, but her friends said that she’d been going on dates with one guy, a Mr. White, no first name.”

You nod, already trying to come to connect dots for the team.

“But there’s got to be at least a few hundred ‘White’s in the country Abs.”

She nods at your words, smiling at how you’ve beaten Gibbs to the punch and he only folds his arms across his chest with the smallest smile ever.

“I know. I’m trying to see if I can get anything by looking into their date spots, but it’s gonna take me a minute.”

Gibbs nods, “Good work Abby.”

“What about me?” You mumble, eyes soft and a little tired behind your glasses. He can’t seem to help himself as he leans close and kisses your cheek.

“Good work.”

As he’s leaving he hears you whisper to her, “Do you think another Caff-Pow now would be too much?”

Gibbs shakes his head, “You need to eat lunch before you have another one, Y/n.”

[cak3art]

Welcome back babes

This idea was sparked after replaying death center and listening to Ellis talking about Jimmy Gibbs jr. and his stock car

Long story short, take Ellis as a Motorsports driver

[ncis-yp]

Comfy clothes (Gibbs x reader) [FLUFF]

You laid in bed the second you got home from work. Still in your work clothes, your glasses still on. Utterly exhausted from the day. Jethro walked in to see you knocked out and glasses out of place, snoring lightly.

“Get up” Jethro says and you nearly bolted up, reaching for your gun that was clearly not in its holster.

“Fuck” you groan, taking your glasses off and tiredly rubbing your eyes. Jets blurred figure in front of you and your eyes readjusted.

“I’m surprised you remembered to take your gun out” he chuckled. “You were knocked out when I walked in.

“I don’t even remember taking it out” you giggle sleepily. He smiled at you as he began undressing you. “What’re you doing?” You smile.

“Putting you to bed” he replied. “Was it bad today?”

“Got shot at twice, chased a burglar down the street and tackled him, got stuck in an interrogation room for a few hours, and I did training first thing this morning” you reply.

“Nasty bruises” he ran his hand down you ribs.

“Yeah doc said I’ll be alright. Just give it a few weeks to heal. I’ll get wrapped up tomorrow, IF I have pain while I’m breathing”

“And?”

“I definitely do have pain while I’m breathing” you admit.

“Guess that means I gotta be gentle.” He smiles as he looks up at you from his knees. You cock your eyebrow as his pretty blue eyes blink up at you. Standing, he unclips your bra and passes you his USMC hoodie. Your favorite of his hoodies to date.

“Oh no no” you say putting on the hoodie. “I’ll still kick your ass.” You quickly clutched your pillow to your chest as you coughed. Groaning at the discomfort. Jethros face twisted in distaste at the picture of you.

“We’re getting you wrapped now. Get up” he gently helps you up and makes a phone call.

30 minutes later you were sitting on a cold steel table getting your thorax wrapped up tightly. You were wincing in pain.

“Ah not to fret, my dear” Ducky said softly. “Keep this tightly wrapped for a few days and it’ll mend the pain when coughing”

“Thank you Dr. Mallard” you smile softly.

“Ducky, to you. And according to your X-rays, you’re in no harm. Nothing but bruises, but nothing broken” he points to your body on the x ray monitor.

“Thanks Duck” Gibbs says picking you up off the table.

“My pleasure, Jethro, (y/n)” Ducky nodded towards you. You smiled and nodded back. “Though, Jethro, make sure she drinks plenty of water and no… physical activity, if you know what I mean. Heavy breathing will put too much strain on her”

“Heard that Jetty? no physical activity” you say cheekily. “Guess I get to miss work for a few days”

“Yeah, yeah” he kisses you. “Shut up”

“Night Duck” you say as Gibbs carries you out.

You arrived back at home. Your boyfriend made you a comfy spot in bed. Leaving the TV remote by your side, with a few cans of soda and a giant bottle of water. He pulled into a gentle but caring hug.

“Thank you Jet”

[clarkslana]

NCIS: ORIGINS 1.14 — “To Have and to Hold”

[academicgangster]

Gibbs x Ducky

Since when have you waited for an invitation? Don't answer that.

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Breaking Free

[A/N: I’m driving home for my externship (and Thanksgiving!) so you know what that means- too much time on the road to daydream 🙃 Pls enjoy Gibbs being an infuriating slut]

Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x female reader

__________

You repeatedly pat your boyfriend’s arm, pointing to his left at a sign that’s sure to snag you the win of your road trip competition. It’s become an annual tradition to pass the time by finding the most outrageous billboards on your way to Thanksgiving with your parents and Jethro’s father in Pennsylvania.

“That’s gotta be the best one,” you say confidently. “It even has a handcuff reference for you!”

The large sign promises that if you’re Shackled by LUST? then Jesus can FREE you.

Jethro grunts by way of acknowledgment then poses, “You scream oh my god a lot when I’m inside you- d’ya think that counts?”

“Not, like, a lot a lot,” you protest ever so eloquently, incensed by the smirk blooming on his face and his clever avoidance of admitting defeat.

Clearly your darling boyfriend takes that as a challenge.

The hand resting on your denim clad thigh begins creeping higher and you cut your eyes over to Jethro to find his focus is still dutifully on the expanse of highway ahead. “Whatcha doin’ there, Jay?”

“Driving,” he answers easily, hand moving higher yet. The corner of his lips visible to you arches upward when he meets the cool metal of the button on your jeans, but his smile falters when he fumbles to get it open. “Little help here?”

Raising one eyebrow, you counter, “You wanna prove a point, you put in the work, mister.”

He huffs out a breath, then twists his wrist and finally succeeds in popping the button open with a triumphant laugh. Jethro doesn’t even bother to try with the zipper after that; he simply shoves his hand into your pants so the zipper gets forced down its track.

You gasp when his fingers slide through your folds, and Jethro produces a quiet growl in the back of his throat when he finds you already wet for him. That sound alone has you moaning out a low, “Oh my god,” and your boyfriend outright laughs at you while his middle finger circles your clit. “That was only once- oh fuck, oh my god- okay, twice, you jerk,” you feebly defend yourself.

Jethro sinks two fingers knuckle deep into your pussy with an amused hum, and you slap your palm against the roof of the truck while crying out a third iteration of the deity-invoking phrase. “I can’t- oh fuck me- stand you sometimes,” you bite out, lifting your hips to help Jethro’s fingers slip in and out of you with ease.

“Good thing you’re sitting then,” he fires back, chancing a glance away from the road to smirk at you.

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth in a feeble attempt to muffle your cries, but Jethro brushes his palm over your clit while curling his fingers and another breathy, “Oh my god,” slips out of your traitorous mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” your boyfriend praises you, no longer bothering to mask his delight. “Free yourself from those shackles.”

A laugh punches out of you that morphs into a wanton moan when he curls his fingers again, and your cries rise higher and higher in pitch until you’re clenching around Jethro’s fingers, calling out a litany of curses with a healthy dose of his name mixed in. You drop back into the seat, boneless, with a final, “Oh my god.”

Jethro slips his slick-coated fingers out of your still throbbing cunt and points out your window to another billboard flying by, then runs his sinful tongue along his fingers, groaning at your taste. “I’m always right,” he asserts with a content hum, “and I win.”

__________

LJG tags 🖤 @ilovemark1951 @doctorwhofan24

[oneshotnewbie]

(Tw, eating disorders)

hiyaa, could you do a fic with NCIS (the whole team or just a few characters) and reader who had been struggling with an ed?? i will leave the details to you xx

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of an eating disorder (anorexia) and the plot is presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

You sat alone in the darkened kitchen of your apartment. The plate in front of you was empty, the remains of a meager salad that you had tossed around several times. Your gaze was blank as you stared at the plate, as if searching for answers that might be hiding in the dried lettuce leaves.

The last few weeks have been a challenge for you. The relentless cases and high stress levels at NCIS had taken their toll on you. The originally secret battle against the numbers on the scales had long since become an open war that you were waging against yourself.

Your colleagues started to notice your changes. Special Agent Ellie Bishop, your best friend, was one of the first to notice a certain distance in your eyes while you were working on a case. Gibbs, who could read his team's moods like no other, had also picked up on the subtle clues- the tired eyes, the emaciated appearance, and the color that had drained from your face.

After a discussion about the latest case and your lack of sympathy, Ellie and he exchanged worried glances before silently agreeing that it was time to talk to you. Together they decided to bring in Jack Sloane, the team's experienced psychologist and agent.

Just a few hours later, after gathering informally, Gibbs, Ellie, and Jack found themselves in her office. The tension in the air was palpable as they patiently waited for you to walk in the door unsuspectingly. “Sit down, Y/n.” The older man spoke calmly, pointing to the couch opposite.

You hesitated with a questioning and slightly confused look before sitting down. The gazes of your colleagues literally pierced you and made you nervous.

"We're worried about you, sweetheart," Ellie began gently, her arms wrapped around her body as her lower back dug into the blonde's desk. "You seem so different lately and we want to understand what's going on."

Jack eventually continued, bringing out her expertise, enhancing the expression of her words by readjusting her glasses. "There's no reason to walk alone in the dark."

It was hard to miss the tension on your face as you tried to control her emotions. Gibbs looked at you seriously, a hint of concern and sensitivity shining in his eyes. "Y/n, we are your team. If you have problems, you don't have to fight it alone. Talk to us."

"It's nothing. I'm fine." You spoke after listening to your colleagues' words, literally feeling the pressure inside you as a lump formed in your throat. You hesitated for a moment before standing up and abruptly leaving the room without saying another word. The look on your face told the three of them a mix of anger and shame as they realized there was a deeper reason for your change.

The door closed behind you with a muffled bang and Gibbs sighed heavily, keeping his eyes on the closed door. "Damn," he muttered. "She won't let anyone talk to her."

Ellie cast a worried glance in the direction you had just been sitting and furrowed her brow in frustration. "We can't just let her go through this alone. She needs help."

Jack Sloane nodded in agreement, her emotions contained as she considered what to do next with you. "I agree, but she also has to be willing to accept help. We can't force her."

In the next few days the atmosphere in the team remained tense. You tried to appear as normal as possible, but the tension between you, Ellie, and Gibbs was palpable. The usual jokes with Dinozzo, the shared breaks with Ellie and the feeling of togetherness with Gibbs seemed to have faded into the background.

Until the senior agent's team received an urgent mission that required your full attention and teamwork. A suspicious package with a bomb inside appeared in a public building. When you arrived on site, the situation quickly became aggravated by memories of 9/11. The building was evacuated and the team took control of the entire situation.

This effort that brought you back onto the field was actually intended to provide distraction and focus for you. However, the tensions in the team were obvious. You avoided all eye contact with your colleagues, the images of the failed conversation echoing in your head, and the pressure you were trying to hide weighed heavily on you.

While you were concentrating on your tasks, you suddenly felt a wave of dizziness. Your heart was pounding fast, the world around you was spinning, and your legs suddenly felt like they were made of rubber. Your vision blurred. Instinctively you reached for the closest thing possible to hold on to, which at that exact moment was Ellie, but your knees gave way and you sank to the ground next to her. The colors blurred before your eyes and you lost consciousness.

Ellie noticed the suddenly tight grip on her forearm. Gibbs, who was standing right behind you, reacted quickly and caught you before your head hit the paving stone. “Y/n!” He called as he gently laid you on the ground and Ellie called emergency services while Dinozzo and McGee continued to focus on the case. You were pale and breathing shallowly, the older agent trying to wake you up while Ellie looked for signs of acute medical distress and checked your pulse, all while talking to the emergency dispatcher.

Gibbs watched worriedly as you slowly came to. When your eyes opened, they showed a mix of embarrassment and weakness. "What happened?" You mumbled, still dazed.

"We'll sort that out later," he replied calmly, brushing some stray strands of hair that had gotten lost in it out of your face. "Right now we need to make sure you get medical attention."

Even as the paramedics arrived and took care of you, the two exchanged a meaningful look. The events of the last few minutes had exposed a reality that they could no longer ignore and it became clear to everyone that this was not just about the case and the hot summer days that drove everyone into a corner - this was about the well-being of an agent who not only fought against external threats in everyday life, but also against her own demons.

ᕚ---ᕘ

In the hospital room, surrounded by dim lights and the hum of medical equipment, you sat up straight in bed. Gibbs and Ellie had alerted Jack to come to the hospital, where all three of them gathered around you, each of them with a serious but caring look.

"Y/n, it's time we talk about this," Jack began in a soft voice, sitting on the edge of the bed, her hand tentatively running over your still-shaky forearm, skillfully ignoring the intravenous access for medication. "We really care about you. This fainting is a symptom of something bigger. You need to tell us what's going on so we can help you."

You looked down, fingers folding nervously in your lap. The walls you had so stubbornly built seemed to be crumbling. Gibbs took a step closer to you. His eyes met yours, intense and fatherly at the same time. "You're part of my team, y/n. If you're having trouble, I'm here for you."

Ellie also wanted to join in the conversation, adding something that completely grounded your walls. "We are not only colleagues, but also friends and family. You can trust us. We will help you." You took a deep breath and nodded, a lone, slow tear rolling down your cheeks. "It's not easy for me to talk about it. It feels like I'm losing control."

Gibbs placed a protective hand on your shoulder, letting you know that it was okay to let them in and accept their help. "Sometimes it's okay to let go of control. You are not alone and together we will help you get back on your feet."

"I fell into something that I didn't think I would ever fall into again. An eating disorder that I actually left behind a long time ago," you began to say, many more tears following. Ellie had immediately moved to your side, wrapping you in a big hug to help you tell them everything they needed to know.

The following weeks were characterized by intensive discussions with Jack, supported by professional help from another psychologist outside of working hours. The entire team was there to support you every step of the way, enveloping you in care as they ate with you and brought you small snacks.

Gibbs, who was otherwise known for his strictness, became a protective father figure who lost his strictness on you when it wasn't work related. He constantly reminded you that there was no shame in showing weakness and that you didn't have to fight alone if you suffered a setback for the day.

The team became a supportive unit that not only solved crimes but also looked after each other. Through your courage to defy and confront your own demons, the connection between you all became significantly stronger. Everyone in the family had learned that true strength often came from accepting help and going through the darkness together, rather than isolating yourself and taking the rocky road alone.

[chaos-circus]

Spy School fandom, I really want to know, what are your thoughts on the academy being destroyed?

Personally, I think it was a really bad decision on Gibbs' part, considering that the entire premise of the series is that there's a secret school for CIA agents in training. Of course, after nine books (I think Project X was the tenth, but I may be remembering wrong), there's nothing wrong with wanting to move away from that premise. But it's not like the academy had gotten boring. We really didn't get to spend much time learning about what the school was like following Secret Service. I really think that the setting was underutilized beyond the first few books.

There are so many unanswered questions with the school being shut down. How can all of these students, particularly the older ones, be expected to go back to their regular lives? How does the CIA plan on making sure everything is kept secret? What about Zoe and Mike's parents? Not all of these questions need to be answered, but a little bit of explanation would go a long way.

But what annoys me the most is how having the school destroyed is so transparently just a way to Stuart to abandon the supporting cast and prop up the main characters as being hand-picked to cotinue training while everyone else is left in the dust.

In conclusion: RIP Chip and Jawa, they're not dead, I just miss them

[crazycurly-77]

He's mine!

Fandom: NCIS

Pairing: Gibbs x reader

Warnings: little bit of cursing and lots of fluff

You and Gibbs just returned from getting coffee. Chatting, you got out of the elevator and were about to head toward your desks when a colleague rushed towards you screaming.

With a shrill cry of "He's mine, you fucking bitch!" she tried to attack you, but Gibbs quickly shoved his coffee mug into your hand and intercepted the raging woman before she could reach you.

So she could calm down, he quickly brought the thrashing, screaming woman into the interrogation room.

There he snapped at her: "What's going on? Have you lost your mind?"

You didn't understand what the problem was or what you had to do with it, but it was clear that the boss was furious and had no desire to put on such a show.

What will he do? You watched the events unfold with excitement from the surveillance room.

Evelyn, that was the colleague's name, had stopped lashing out. Instead, she crossed her arms in front of her chest like a petulant child and stared poison darts at the one-sided glass.

"She's on the other side, watching us, I know. She's probably happy to be driving a wedge between us. But I won't let that happen..." she said.

Gibbs just stood there, staring at her in disbelief, and then said emphatically: "There is no 'us'."

"Yes! Of course there is, Jethro!" she cried, beside herself.

"How do you figure that?" he demanded.

Yes, you would be interested in that too. Did the two ever have an affair? And what did you have to do with it?

Evelyn fixed her gaze on him and tried to approach him, but he backed away.

"We dated, you know that perfectly well. And then you suddenly pulled away and went out with that bitch!!" she practically spat out her insult, pointed in your direction, and then continued, "I see the way you look at her!"

Gibbs continued to stare at her and then ran his hand over his face in annoyance. It was clearly a mistake to casually go out to dinner with her every now and then...

"You've never looked at ME the way you look at HER!" Evelyn continued to snort.

That was interesting...he raised his eyebrows. "How am I looking at her?" he asked.

She exhaled forcefully, "Like a schoolboy who's head over heels in love. It's pathetic the way your eyes always follow her."

Caught. If he was honest with himself, he actually did. You were the most enchanting woman he'd ever seen, which is why he simply couldn't help himself. He HAD to follow you with his eyes. But he hadn't expected it to be SO obvious.

Nevertheless, he had to settle this first. So he went to Evelyn, gently took her in his arms, and whispered, "There is no 'us.' And I'm sorry I made you believe otherwise."

She cried. She cried bitter tears of disappointment from which she'll probably never fully recover, because in her fixation on him, he was absolutely the man of her dreams.

He held her like that for a few minutes, and when she'd calmed down enough, she whispered to him, "I wish you both the best of luck. But please talk to her so there are no misunderstandings."

He looked at her intently and nodded. Then she broke away from him and left, while he watched her thoughtfully. She was probably right with her advice, but how would you react if he told you the truth?

Well, he'll soon find out, because he decided to explain to you right now what had happened over the last few minutes...plus a little more information.

Determined, but with his heart pounding wildly, he walked over to you in the surveillance room and closed the door behind him.

"What's he up to?" you asked yourself in amazement, unable to explain what was going on.

As he turned the key and locked the door, he looked at you and explained, "I have something to explain to you, and I don't want us to be disturbed."

Your heart raced. What was going on here? Jethro never explained anything. This was way out of the ordinary and only concerned the two of you. That much was clear. But what was so private that he only wanted to tell you this in private?

After he finished, he stood for a moment with his back to you and his head down, gathering his courage. Then he took a deep breath and turned to you.

And what you saw in his eyes left you speechless. His bright, sky-blue eyes locked on yours, and in them lay a gentle expression full of love that concealed nothing. Completely without protective walls, silently hoping for mercy and pleading not to be hurt.

He slowly approached you to give you time to step back. But you were so captivated by his presence and the situation that you couldn't move, and you wouldn't even dream of doing so.

There was a tremendous spark and the atmosphere was charged with tension. Both of your hearts were beating so hard that their combined drum roll should have caused an earthquake.

He stopped right in front of you, gently cupped your cheek with his large hand, which was calloused from working with wood and tilted his head. When your noses touched, he paused briefly. Then he closed his eyes and brushed his lips against yours.

Only very gently, as if he were asking for permission. And yet, fireworks exploded in your hearts. You closed your eyes too, and when you began to return his kiss, he intensified it. He pressed his lips to yours and as he pulled you closer, you snuggled up to him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and hips, while you buried your hands in his wonderfully soft hair and pulled him even closer.

You both felt as if you were floating on clouds. Could it really be true? Do you really return his affection? And does he really return yours?

But as wonderful as it was, at some point you had to catch your breath. So you reluctantly separated from each other.

Still completely dazed and overwhelmed by your feelings, your eyes searched his. You tenderly stroked his cheek and whispered, "What do you have to explain to me?"

He smiled. He smiled a beautiful, warm smile that lit up his face and made him look much younger. He answered hesitantly, "About Evelyn."

Shaking your head, you replied, "You don't have to explain."

"Yes, I do. I want to," he answered excitedly.

But how should he tell you?

Very simple. Straightforward, as always. He gently took your head in his hands and prayed that you wouldn't push him away at what he had to say. Because he would serve you his heart on a silver platter and hope for the best.

He took another deep breath and then explained in a low voice: "I met Evelyn for dinner a few times, but nothing happened because it was completely noncommittal on my part. She probably saw it differently and saw you as competition, but I clarified that with her earlier."

Okay, that explained her behavior, but not his. And when you wanted to ask him, he continued: "She understood and gave me some advice, which is why I'm standing here revealing my heart to you."

Your heart did somersaults. You had buried your feelings for him deep inside of you until now, because you couldn't imagine that someone like him could have even the slightest interest in you.

You looked at him in disbelief with wide eyes: "Wow, I've never heard you say so much."

He laughed briefly: "That's because it's never been as important as it is now."

With a cautious smile, you frowned: "And what exactly do you want to tell me?"

He began to sweat with nervousness, but he had to go through with it.

"What I want to say is..."

He paused and started again: "What I want to say is..."

He stopped again.

So you took the initiative, pulled him back to you, pressed your lips briefly but passionately against his and whispered: "I love you."

His reaction was immediate. He pulled you to him as tightly as he could, whispered, "I love you too," and took your breath away with a deep and passionate kiss that catapulted you both to cloud nine again.

And your hearts filled with the overwhelming feeling of all lovers that the word “belonging” carries within it.

The End

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Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27

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[passionwillow]

HELLO MY UNHINGED BABES I AM BACK.

I’ll be posting a headcanon here shortly. Lil treat for you guys. ❤️

I can’t thank you guys enough for the sweet messages and support. It means the world.

[admireforever]

Sex Education

[academicgangster]

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. 3x19 || NCIS 1x12

bonus:

[slutforsilverfoxes]

A very smol blurb inspired by the end of NCIS ep 11.2 so I can cope with my very big feelings (no spoilers, just discussion of our poor honey’s injury)

Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x wife!reader

__________

The door is unlocked and the lights are off when you come home which, normally, would be par for the course if not for the truck in the driveway with its hood still warm. Slipping inside and shaking off the fall chill, you drop your coat and keys by the door before stepping out of your shoes and making your way further into the house.

“Jay?” you call out into the darkness. “Y’here? You know I don’t do well with jump scares.”

“Better brace yourself then,” he counsels, and you can tell now that he’s in the kitchen. The small overhead light flickers to life, and you take in a shuddering breath, followed by an eloquent, “Son of a fucking whore, who did this to you?” Shaky fingers reach up to graze the fresh bruise blooming on his face, and you wince at the sight of multiple cuts and his bloodshot left eye. “I bet that fucker’s regretting messing with you, huh?”

“Easy, love,” he murmurs with a smile, delicately taking your wrist in his hand and brushing his lips over your knuckles. “Your mouth could rival a sailor’s.”

“Oorah and all that jazz,” you fire back easily. “Answer the question, Jethro.”

“Which one?”

“Jethro.”

“Name’s not important. Locked up and taken care of,” he finally provides as he pulls you into a hug. You nuzzle into his solid chest and tease, “Bet he’s got an uglier mug than you now, hm?”

“You married this ugly mug.”

“And aren’t I just the luckiest gal in the world?” You guide him over to the small table and gently nudge his shoulder. He takes the hint and settles into the chair, finally releasing some tension from the day while you card your fingers through his hair. “I’ll get you some ice.”

Tilting his head back to rest against your tummy, he looks up at you with the closest thing to puppy dog eyes he can muster in his current state. “Make it a beer? It’ll be a twofer.”

“Got it,” you answer, sliding milk and eggs aside to reach for the six pack of your husband’s favorite local brew. You hear the phone ringing as you extract yourself from the fridge, and when you return to his side, Jethro heaves a sigh before lifting the device to his ear with a quiet, “Hey, Ziver.”

You twist off the cap to his beer before placing it down by his hand, then give his shoulder a firm squeeze and press a delicate kiss to his cheek. He places his hand over your own and squeezes back, looking up to meet your gaze with a small smile.

After one more brush of your lips against his temple, you head upstairs to shower and change. He’ll come find you when he’s ready.

__________

LJG tags 🖤 @ilovemark1951 @doctorwhofan24

[stars278]

❤️💚

Another E x R dynamic!!! I love them so much!

exr tension ooooo

🎥 @medium-observation

[op1umeyes]

i raise u hotch x f!r who was pronounced kia but she comes back?

— Home

— 🧠 synopsis. After being pronounced KIA, reader shows up after a year.

— 🧠 warnings. Foul language

part one

‘‘We regret to inform you-‘’ was the first and only thing Aaron heard before his vision blurred and his hands went slack.

If had happened, his biggest fear: you were never coming home. The only personal effects Aaron received was your wallet and dog tags with your wedding band on it. The flag that the marines handed him was heavy in his arms.

As they left, Aaron dropped his head in his hands and set the things he was handed down carefully on his desk. Before he did anything else, he shut his office blinds and sank into his chair. 

God, he thought, what do I tell Jack? 

— 🧠

It had been about a year since being kidnapped by the cartel your unit was attempting to bring down. One year of sensory deprivation. One year of curling into yourself at night dreaming of waking up with Jack laughing as you swung him around on your arm. One year of thinking about Aaron’s gravely voice whispering a sweet ‘good morning’ right before he kissed your temple. 

“You ready?” One of your longtime mentors/father figures Jethro asked. 

You nod and bit your lip. “Jethro what if he’s moved on from me? What if… he stopped loving me?” You asked, malnourished body shaking from your anxiety. 

The man only scoffed. “Not Aaron Hotchner, y/n. He wears your dog tags, you know. He hasn’t moved on from you, kid.” 

Finally you stepped out of Gibbs’ truck and nodded. You truly hoped Jethro was right. Your fresh uniform was big on your frame- you had lost a lot of weight and muscle after being fed only a meal every two days. 

Stepping into the elevator made you want to cry. The familiar beep of the machine soothed your soul more than you ever thought possible. 

Your stomach did flips as you stepped into the bullpen, hoping and praying that your reunion went well. 

— 🧠

In the year that you’d been gone, Hotch changed. 

He no longer smiled. Ever. The laugh he had with the team alnost every day after meeting you was gone. Aaron had no patience for anything either. 

Emily recalled one month anniversary of your deathdate. Hotch’s eyes were the reddest they had ever been and he genuinely looked like he had just been stabbed in the gut. That day, he had yelled twice at the two cops that had continued to bicker over evidence. And once at Rossi. 

The only reason Rossi didn’t say anything in response to Aaron’s anger was because he knew exactly where Aaron’s mind was: with you and your apparent grave on the other side of the world. 

But she watched your boots hit the ground, hair pulled back into the bun you had taught her all those years ago when you and Hotch first started dating. Emily watched you stand nervously in your spot, eyes scared. 

Emily never remembered seeing you scared. 

Your lip quivered as you made eye contact with her. 

No one else had seen you yet, so Emily sprinted over to you and let you sink into her embrace. 

“Aaron?” You asked, voice hoarse.

Emily nodded, vision blurred. “Go see him, y/n. He’s- none of us… we thought…” Her voice cracked and wavered. 

“I love you, Em,” you said, slipping out of her grasp again. But this time, Emily knew you were alive.

The walk up the stairs made your heart race. 

You brought your hand up to the door and knocked. Below, you could already hear Emily talking to the team. You heard your name, some gasps, and then silence.

“Come in,” Hotch called gruffly from the other side of the door.

You twisted the door handle and pushed. And then you stepped into the room. 

“Can I help you?” Your husband asked without looking up. His head was bent and he slouched, something he always nagged on you to make sure you never did. How far did he fall in one year?

“I wanted to see my husband,” you say, voice shaky. “I heard he was here.”

Aaron shot up from his chair, seat flying backwards. His eyes. Oh, his eyes.

“Y-y/n?” He asked. His hair was a mess; it looked like all he had done lately was worriedly run a hand through it. Your heart ached for the man in front of you.

You stepped forward. “Hi, angel,” you said, taking another step forward. 

“You died, y/n. I- we all… Jack and I-“ Aaron stuttered, tears falling from his cheeks as he watched the love of his life stand in uniform, an arms length away.

“I missed you. So much,” you say, crying now.

Aaron strode over to you and hugged you, letting his body fall slowly to the floor as you cried in his arms. “Oh my love,” Aaron cried, hiding his face into the crooke of your neck. 

You were home.