#NCIS Origins | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bullet-prooflove · 15 hours ago

Text

Right Here: Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @riley-kore @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

Companion piece to:

The Ice Queen - Gibbs meets The Ice Queen for the first time.

Break The Ice - A act of decency helps Gibbs to break the ice.

Grave - You and Gibbs bump into each other in an unexpected place.

Safe - You and Gibbs work through your grief in different ways.

Check In - Gibbs checks in with you after the night before.

The night Gibbs closes the Mildred Jones case is the night you come home to find him sitting on your porch. His elbows are resting on his knees and his head is tilted back towards the stars that are twinkling above. There’s a half drunk bottle of whiskey resting on the stoop alongside of him, the amber liquid glistening in the porch light you always leave on.

“So this looks fun.” You say, nudging his boot with your foot to get his attention.

“You weren’t in so I thought I’d wait.” He says as you sit down alongside him. Your body accidently bumps against his and he leans in just a little absorbing your warmth.

“You started drinking without me.” You say gesturing towards the bottle.

He sighs and you can see the shame etched into his features because this isn’t him. This case it’s touched a raw nerve, thrown him back into a place that he doesn’t want to be. You know what it’s like to fall into that hole, you know how hard it is to climb out. If you're honest with yourself, you aren’t sure you ever did.

“You wanna come inside, see if we can’t sober you up a little?” You ask him and he nods his head in agreement as you raise to your feet. Your arm hooks under his as you try to pull him up with you.

“Christ you’re heavy.” You mutter before he forces himself to his feet, he wobbles for a moment, his hands grasping your shoulders as he tries to steady himself. You grip his hips, holding him in place as he continues to waver.

“I gave away one of my daughter’s toys today, her favourite.” He whispers, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “I guess that means I’m moving on right?”

“Is that what this is all about?” You ask as the tears leak down his cheeks. “You feel guilty for letting a part of her go?”

He nods and you place your palm over his heart, fingertips splaying across the fabric of his shirt. He feels warm to the touch and you realise that this right here is the most intimate you’ve been with another person since Violet died. You’ve fucked during that time, but it’s always been impersonal, about fulfilling a need.

This is different, Gibbs, he’s showing his vulnerabilities right now and you know just how hard that it is, especially after a loss.

“Jethro.” You whisper, your fingertip tapping the space where his heart resides. “We never truly lose them, even when they’re taken from us. They’re still in here, they’re still a part of us.”

“Right.” He says with a shaky breath, his eyebrows furrowing as his hand covers yours, keeping it clasped to his chest. “I still have them, I didn’t lose them because they’re right here.”

“Yea.” You whisper, tasting the salt from his tears on your lips as they brush over his cheek. “They’re right here.”

Love Gibbs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #ncis origins #gibbs #gibbs x reader #austin stowell

40 notes · View notes

garbinge · 6 days ago

Text

TOO GOOD FOR THAT

Mike Franks x F!Wife!Reader // Word Count: 2k Summary: After a bad day you retreat to Daly's bar to meet up with Mike and the team, but things get a little rowdy. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angst, comfort, alludes to sexual situations, violence, mentions of blood, drinking. Mentions of dishonorable discharge. A/N: Mike Franks from NCIS: Origins is literally all I can think of and I'm anxious as we wait on election news so decided to pour myself into fic writing. More from this universe

It didn’t take much to fade into the chaos of Daly’s bar. The only criteria that was needed for it to be this packed was the time of night. There were marines, locals, and agents all throughout the bar and while you recognized most of them, your favorite part about Smitty’s was that most people minded their own business. Mostly everyone.

“You ringin’ him out tonight or comin’ to join the fun?”

There was no need to look to your right where the voice was coming from to know who it was. You could pick Lala’s voice out of a crowd.

“Still deciding.” You smirked as your eyes fell on your husband who was shooting darts with Randy.

“Well, while you weigh your options, take a shot with me.” She was bringing a glass of amber liquid in front of your eyes.

Without a second guess you grabbed the glass, breaking your gaze from Mike you turned to Lala. Clinking your glass to hers and taking back the alcohol, you fought to make a face as the liquor ran down your throat. Lala had finished her shot two seconds before you, but it was long enough for you to follow her gaze to someone you knew through your husband–someone you knew was new to the team.

“How’s the probie?” You nodded in his direction as he sat alone at a bar table, taking in the atmosphere like you just were.

“Still figuring him out.” Her gaze didn’t falter as she spoke.

You wished you could read Lala, but she had a damn good way of presenting neutral. Although, there was something on her face that leaned away from neutrality, you couldn’t place it.

“So you decide yet?” And just like that, that sliver of something you couldn’t place was gone and she was turning to smile at you. “Should I get my popcorn or get you another drink?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, it was entertaining when you’d get into it with Franks in front of the team. It didn’t happen often but it sure left its mark when you did. But that wasn’t your intention coming here tonight and if Mike had met your eyes when you entered the bar he would have been able to know that immediately. But with the chaos of everything, you were lucky Lala even picked you out.

“Drink. You know you had me the minute you fed me a shot.” It was true, the alcohol made you feel a little more loose from the shitty day you just had. The plan when you stepped into Smitty’s was to find Mike and have him bring you home but as the dark liquid coursed through your veins the idea of forgetting the day instead of soaking in it felt good. “I��ll buy next round?” You pointed to the bar and began walking before she could answer.

Next round turned to 3 more, jumping between beer and bourbon. Right now both amber liquids were serving as the comfort you had come to Daly’s looking for, although you were originally expecting the comfort to come from Mike not bottom shelf bourbon.

Suddenly, you felt hands around your waist and the feel of them against your bare skin as they snuck under your shirt was better comfort than any sip of the highest shelf alcohol could ever bring.

“How long you been here?” His deep voice in your ear was like coming up for fresh air.

“Not too long, Lala caught me at the door.” You leaned back into him, his right hand quickly moved off your waist and raised to get Smitty’s attention.

“Smitty, let me get my beautiful bride a glass of chardonnay.”

Your brows knitted as he ordered the drink for you, your head turned up to look at him but as you did, he surprised you with a quick kiss and speaking against your lips. “Chardonnay makes you happy, I can tell you had a shit day.”

With a smile you turned back to the bar and leaned back further into him, snugging your body as much as physically possible into him while his hand found its place back on your waist again.

“You wanna talk about it?” The vibration of his voice echoed through your body and you felt his lips against the top of your head.

“Not here.” You answered quickly and your body tensed as you saw the amount of people around you. Lala had disappeared from the bar, and even though everyone was likely to mind their business, you didn’t want to cry in front of everyone.

Mike picked up on it immediately, he changed the subject without missing a beat, his grip tightening on you in hopes to keep your tears bottled in until you wanted them to flood. “Probie threw up when he saw the body today.”

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that, taking the wine glass in your hand the minute Smitty placed it down in front of you. Half of it was gone in two gulps and you turned holding up the glass for Mike to take his own sip.

“Chardonnay makes you happy too.” You pushed the glass closer to him.

“I got all the happy I need.” He leaned down to kiss you, this one less quick and more purposeful. His hand reached up and cupped your face, you tasted the cigarette on his tongue this time, mixed with the whiskey on his breath. It made you want to pick up the habit yourself and wash it down with an irish coffee every morning just to keep the taste of him with you.

When you pulled away from the kiss, you wished you told him to take you home the minute you felt his calloused hands around you. The heat in your body was mixed with a throbbing in your chest and lower body. If you finished the glass of chardonnay in your hand, there’d be very little stopping you from taking him on the bar, but you’d probably opt for a quickie in the bathroom. Optics and all.

But then, like your gut had been ahead of you the whole time, your eyes bounced to the door which is where you saw him.

Tensed. Your whole body tensed, it was as stiff as a board. Your mind should’ve been going a mile a minute but it was frozen in time. Your eyes just stared at him, no thoughts, and the echo of Franks wasn’t audible over the ringing.

The ringing got louder when the man’s eyes met yours. The smirk on his face brought rage from the deepest part of your being. Your hands were gripped tight, one of them against Mike’s side, and the other on the wine glass that was now being removed from your hand.

“Hey!” Mike’s voice got through to you and your eyes jumped to his. “Talk to me. What’s happening?”

You stared at him for a minute, letting the red vignette you felt like you were seeing fade away as you took in the features of your husband. He let the time pass without asking again, he was likely just happy you were looking at him after staring off for so long. After a deep breath you spoke.

“Some guy who served with my brother, he came up to me on base earlier today when I was at the grocery store, harassed me about my brother’s dishonorable discharge. I walked away, he followed me.” You remembered the scene from just a few hours before.

“How’d he know you were related?” Mike was trying to understand what happened.

“Had on my college soccer jersey with my last name on it.” Your eyes jumped from Mike to the entrance again but this time your gaze came up blank, the man had moved. “When I walked away, he followed me. Pulled me back by grabbing my jersey, and he screamed at me, completely lost it on me.”

Your hands were shaking now.

“He what?” Now it was Mike’s turn to start getting the red vignette around his eyes. “He put hands on you?”

The question was more rhetorical than anything else, but you weren’t even given the time to answer because the shadow of who you expected to be the man from the grocery store was lingering over you.

“Can’t seem to shake you.” He had chuckled through the statement, almost like he was a friend who kept running into you all day, not someone who displaced his anger on you.

Suddenly, Mike was turning, while the man towered over you, he had nothing on Franks. The two were eye to eye, you could see the steam coming out of Mike’s ears as the smirk on the jerk grew wide.

“Get the fuck out of here.” That was all the control Mike had in him and you knew it.

“Wasn’t talkin’ to you.”

Mike barely let the sentence leave the guys mouth before speaking. “But I was takin’ to you. Get the fuck out.”

“I’m not like this bitch’s pussy ass brother, I don’t run from a fight.”

The minute the word ‘bitch’ left his mouth was when Mike was cocking back his fist. It connected with the guy's face just as he finished speaking, and it was likely going to be the last thing he said all night. Lala, Randy, and Gibbs were all closing in the gaps within seconds of the punch. The guy squirming on the floor as he held his broken nose and the blood pooled around his knuckles.

No one tried to stop Mike, not that they had to, he didn’t dive down for more blows although he wanted to badly. He just shook his hand out and called out an apology to Smitty and then waited for the bouncer to remove the trash on the ground. “You so much as glance at her again and I’ll make sure you’re kicked out the service and locked up for harassment and stalking.”

“Let’s go.” His head turned to you, his eyes connecting with yours to make sure you were okay. It wasn’t the first time Mike had done this for you and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Turning to his team, he nodded and slapped Randy on his arm, speaking as if nothing just happened. “See you guys tomorrow.”

You were already in the passenger seat of his car by the time he got out. Turning the engine over, he didn’t put the car in gear, just sat silent for a moment as you stared out the window, thinking about your brother who was currently crashing at yours and Mike’s place. The weight of his dishonorable discharge was nothing on your shoulders in comparison to his.

“I’m not goin’ to apologize for laying that guy out.” His words were spoken so abruptly it should have made you flinch but all it did was make you smile. Mike’s one rule. Apologies were signs of weaknesses, but it didn’t mean he didn’t have his own versions of them. He’d admit his wrongs by doing the laundry, picking up the groceries for you, coming home with one of your favorite things. Sometimes his apologies even were in the form of his tongue trailing down your abdomen before giving you an honorable concession in the form of an orgasm or two. This was the type of apology where he didn’t feel bad for what he did, but he was worried that you were mad. He continued before you had a chance to say anything.

“Don’t listen to people like that, people who don’t know what the hell went down. You don’t let assholes like that tear you down, you hear me? You’re too good for that, you let me handle that shit, alright?” His drawl was strong in his statement, the anger still bubbling in him.

Turning to look at him is when you saw his eyes, they were pleading for you to just take his words and agree. So you did. Grabbing his hand which was now red and inflamed from the punch, you lightly squeezed it and nodded in agreement.

“Take me home, Franks.”

All his tension washed away and as his shoulders fell and he leaned back in the driver’s seat, he squeezed your hand back before moving to the gear shift.

“You got it, darlin’.”

Dividers by: realitycanbewhateveridesire ♡ 🕵️ NCIS Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @ilovemark1951 @shamelessturtlebeliever @babebaber (let me know if you’d like to be added!)