#jethro lock

[premade-username]

I will, unfortunately, likely be watching the Agatha show, exclusively because Joe Locke wearing eyeshadow looks insanely like Jethro Cane, and frankly that is a character I’ve wanted more of since I watched Midnight.

[sircolinmorgan]

the doctor who episode Midnight aired 15 years ago today, which means i have been a fan of colin morgan for 15 years. 15 years!!! truly insane.

[coffintwink]

eye got tagged by @fatvamp to post my lockscreen, last song, + last photo in my camera roll !! i’m p sure i’ve posted my lockscreen here before LMFAOOOO also jethro tull my beloved also also painting i made of some pomegranate my beloved

i tag: @faggotsaint @desert-mlm annnnnnd @godspouse + anyone else who wants 2

[natti-ice]

baby!!! thinking about older! eddie x fem! reader onlyfans maybe their daughters friend idk ya know just good ol smut 🤭

18+ mdni

FULL FIC HERE!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

Oh. My. God.

When he heard about this “onlyfans” thing he rolled his eyes and brushed it off thinking it was just another porn site. He normally sticks to what he likes and what he knows is reliable, but he kept seeing things online about onlyfans and wanted to see what all the hype was about.

He scrolled down the main page and saw all the random women posing in scandal clad clothes, pretty faces that he’d forget in five seconds once he scrolled past. All of the accounts were locked because he had to subscribe to them and he didn’t see a reason to pay for porn when he could get it for free. He scrolled and scrolled until something jumped out at him, your page. He couldn’t believe it, you and his daughter had been friends for a long time and he had no idea you were doing these things on the internet.

He immediately kept scrolling and tried to pretend he didn’t see that…but part of him was curious. He sighed and scrolled back up and clicked on your account. He knew it was wrong in every sense of the word but fuck, he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t see anything at all because he wasn’t subscribed to your page, he had a strong feeling in his body and he knew exactly what it was. Desire.

His mind raced with a million reasons why he shouldn’t do it but his urges were just too strong, he caved and put in his credit card information and subscribed to your onlyfans. His eyes lit up when he saw all of your photos and videos, he knew he would regret this in the morning but he didn’t give a fuck. He needed to get off, get off looking at your body.

(I could possibly turn this into a fic if interested guys😋)

Tags:

@tracymbcm @ali-r3n @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @canmargesimpson @nailbatanddungeon @queermaxwooo @zestychili @skrzydlak @supersmexyandhot @themadhattersqueen @arthurcerverogf @asimpforthe80s @yeaiamme2 @thepurplelovewitch @luv4peterba1lard @boa-hemian @thiccthighbby @jethro-mcgee-tony @keirasreplies @limerence-17 @mandies24 @tlclick73 @songbirdofthenight @evie-119 @spacedoutdaydreamer

[ncis-yp]

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.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Alibi

The morning had gone seemingly well, having the day off, you were able to take care of a lot of errands you had been putting off such as pulling all of the weeds from your backyard that managed to weasel their way back in even after drenching them in weed killer.

You were so engrossed with picking them and listening to one of your favorite podcasts, you almost missed hearing the doorbell ringing. Taking the gloves off, you paused your podcast and went inside to answer the door, slightly surprised to see two very professional people standing outside.

"Good evening ma'am. I'm Special Agent DiNozzo with NCIS and this is Agent McGee, mind if we ask you a few questions regarding Karen Moss?"

You shifted your weight nervously, stomach turning at the sound of your friends name.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?"

They shared a solemn look between the two of each other, telling you everything you needed to know.

"Her body was found this morning a few streets away and based on her call history, you were the last person to speak with her before her death. May we ask where you were last night around 11pm?"

You covered your mouth in shock, not believing that they just told you that your close friend died, let alone was possibly murdered and know were questioning you as if you might be a suspect. You thought back about the time they were referring to and memories of Jethro and you tangled together in your bed sheets popped into your mind. You thought about telling them, not sure if they even worked with Jethro, but decided on giving them the simplified version instead.

"I was here. With my boyfriend.."

"Is he here now to verify your whereabouts?" DiNozzo asked, taking a small peek over you as if he'd catch a glimpse of someone fleeing. Were all NCIS so suspicious?

"No, but I can give you his number. His name is Leroy Gibbs. His number is-

"Wait, sorry. Leroy Gibbs?" Agent DiNozzo interrupted, facial expression disbelieving. "Grey hair, high and tight haircut, broody mysterious Leroy Gibbs?"

You chuckled a little at his choice of words to describe your boyfriend, seeing how well he made an impression on people.

"Well not usually broody around me but yes, I guess you could say that. Why? Do the two of you know him?"

Once again, the two agents shared a look, this time one of confusion and awe.

"Uh, could you just hang on one second," DiNozzo asked. "I'll be right back."

You stood there with Agent McGee who looked like he wanted say something, but didn't as Agent DiNozzo walked a few paces, pulling out his phone and dialing a number.

"So was Kathy murdered? You said her body was found. When I talked with her last night, she said she was on her way to meet up with someone for a blind date," you asked McGee who was focused on the phone call Agent DiNozzo was having.

"Well Abby was able to go through the Lieutenant's phone and her number was the last dialed. We were just following- Uh yes- Well I wasn't sure- Of course boss, I'll tell McGee."

Agent DiNozzo came back over before murmuring to Agent McGee.

"Gibbs wants us to bring her in for protection. I told him you'd explain to him why we questioned his girlfriend without letting him know."

"What do mean, me? You're the one that had Abby look up the phone records."

"Just take one for the team McProbie. He's still mad at me for the whole coffee incident. Plus, you owe me."

You watched the two supposed Federal Agents argue like siblings, neither one of them wanting to be in the line of Jethro's mood and honestly it was kind of funny. Jethro never really talked much about his team but you had only been seeing him for a few months and 9 times out of 10, the two of you weren't doing much talking when you saw each other.

You decided to break up the little tiff the two of them were having in order to save some time.

"Alright, well while the two of you sort all that out, I'm going to change and lock up the house before we leave."

"Sounds good," Agent DiNozzo responded before going back to bickering with his partner.

- - - -

You took another sip from the little paper cup of water Agent David had given you as you waited in the conference room. She wanted to know about you and Jethro but you didn't divulge much information, knowing Jethro liked his personal life kept close and unknown for the most part. It wasn't long before the door opened and your boyfriend walked in along with Agent DiNozzo and David. You decided against giving Jethro a hug or kiss in front of his subordinates, although the both of them looked like they'd love nothing more than to see that happen.

You all sat down at the conference table except Agent DiNozzo who was wound up tighter than a jack in the box.

"Did Kathy give you a description of this blind date she was seeing?" Jethro started the questioning with. You spoke about everything you knew from the phone call you had with Kathy, tearing up towards the end, still not believing your friend was dead.

Jethro reached out to hold your hand and give you a tissue to wipe your eyes with, making his agents stare in interest at the caring gesture.

"It's like I'm in an alternate Gibbs reality," DiNozzo whispered to Agent David.

Jethro shot him a look before speaking. "Why aren't the two of you putting out a BOLO on this guy?"

"On it boss," Agent DiNozzo spoke quickly, leaving the room with Agent David following close behind, shutting the door after them.

"I think you should stay with me just in case until we catch the killer," he offered, standing up.

"Ok," you squeaked, not wanting to do much talking anymore.

"Come ere," he ordered softly, pulling you to your feet and into his arms for a hug. You accepted it eagerly, breathing in his scent, calming you down a bit.

Once you were better, the two of you walked out of the room and into the squad room, not expecting to be stared at by almost everyone there.

"What kind of reputation do you have with the opposite sex to make everyone look at me like the new zoo exhibit?" you asked Jethro, making him chuckle.

"They're just being nosy. Ignore them."

Jethro stopped Agent DiNozzo from asking anymore questions about the two of you as well as pulling you away from a very animated Forensic Scientist that seemed to have had entirely too much caffeine.

Jethro accompanied you back to your house where you packed a bag before driving you to his house, making a drawer available for you in his bedroom.

"I get my own drawer now. Things are really becoming serious, aren't they?" you teased him.

"Hey, I'm not the one who told my agents that I was your boyfriend," he retorted.

"Should I not have?" you asked genuinely worried that you had overstepped a boundary. He pulled you into his arms, staring into your eyes and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I don't mind the title. Just know that they're gonna have a million questions for you now," he stated, referring to his very curious agents. You smiled, giving him a peck on the lips and loving the new stage you both were now in.

"That's alright. I'll be sure to tell them how you love it when I give you back scratches while we cuddle together and watch movies."

Your joking was cut short as his fingers pressed themselves into your ribs, effectively tickling you till the both of you were on the bed, him hovering above you.

"You know, had it not been for you, I wouldn't have had an alibi for last night," you told him, running your fingers through his hair.

"Must of slipped my mind but," he murmured into your skin, kissing your shoulder. "I don't exactly remember how last night went. Maybe you can help jog my terrible memory."

Laughing at his playfulness, you played into it, pulling him in for a passionate kiss, ready to remind him exactly what happened that night.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

make you mine 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, age gap, possible abuse, alcoholism, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father is strict but his authority is challenged by the boy in town and the man at his door.

Characters: Arvin Russell, Lee Bodecker

Note: you know what, why shouldn't I?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You keep your head down as you near the store. That group of boys is smoking at the corner again, their stained white tees and dusty old flannel jackets smell of sawdust and oil. Your daddy always tells you not to talk to strange men and except for him, they're all strange. 

"Hey, doll, where you in a rush to?" One of them flicks a cigarette away as he breathe smoke behind you. 

You hurry up as he whistles, "yeah, walk faster, girl. Wiggle them hips." 

"Quiet," another hisses and you hear the heavy thump of a slap against his shoulder, "ain't no way to talk to a lady." 

Footsteps rush after you and before you can reach the door, it opens, the bell jangling above as one of the men pulls it back. You look at his boots, grimy, laces fraying, slouching around the ankles. His other hand dangles by his side, cap folded in his grip. 

"I'm really sorry about Jethro, miss, he's got a real nasty mouth," he says, "you alright?" 

You nod and say nothing as you continue inside. 

"You're scarin' her, Arv," another man calls over, "look at her shaking in her shoes." 

He sighs and lets the door close between you as he turns back to respond. His words are muffled as you take a basket and flit into an aisle. Mr. Canavan is behind the counter, flipping through a newspaper as the radio crackles. You pick out the few staples running low in your pantry and add on a bottle of rum for your pa. 

"Afternoon, miss," Canavan greets in his piggish snort. You return the sentiment as you wait for him to tally up your order. "How's your daddy?" 

"Good, good," you answer as you peek towards the window. The men cross the street and disperse, some still walking in pairs. 

"He got a thirst?" he comments on the bottle. 

"Doesn't he always?" You count out the money and hand it to him. 

"Yeah but he usually takes care of that down at Hal's." 

"Lost too much on the table last time," you shake your head as he gives you back the change. 

He packs up a paper bag and you thank him, sliding it off the counter. It's heavy and makes your shoulders ache. You shouldn't have waited so long. 

You push the door open with your hip and turn, nearly colliding with another. The same man chuckles as he puts a hand on your elbow to keep you from toppling. You bite your lip and his eyes fall to his touch, dropping his arm guiltily. 

"Sorry, miss," he says as he sweeps back a curly lock that droops down his forehead, putting his cap over his hair to hold it back, "didn't mean to scare ya." 

"It's fine," you nearly whisper. 

"I wanted to say sorry again for my friends, if I can call them that. They don't see ladies often and they forget their manners." 

"Really, it's okay," you insist with a squeak. 

"Nah, it isn't," he counters, "but I told 'em to leave you alone." 

"Oh, thank you," you look past him. 

There's a pause. Awkward as he digs his heel into the ground. He chuckles and rubs his hands together. 

"That looks heavy, can I help ya with that?" he asks. 

You look at your armful. You don't know if you should. Would he be mad if you say no? He hasn't been mean. 

"Just halfway," he offers, "not tryna creep on ya or nothing, I'll just walk you to your corner." 

You press your lips together. Your daddy wouldn't see him at the corner.  

"I really feel bad about those other jerks," he continues, "so least I can do is carry your groceries." 

"Okay," you utter. 

You stand stupidly as he grins at you. You catch a glimpse of his dark eyes and crooked smile before your eyes return to the ground. He gently reaches to shift the bag out of your arms and lifts it easily. He steps back and you feel his gaze hanging over you. 

"Which way am I goin?" he asks. 

"Oh, uh," you point past him. 

He turns and waits for you to come up beside him before he starts off. He's shorter than the others but his shoulders are broad. He's still got a couple inches on you, though he's much trimmer. You catch up and focus on keeping pace with him. 

"I'm Arvin," he says. 

"Um," you breathe and muster your name in return. 

"I like that. It's pretty. Hope you're husband wouldn't mind me sayin' so." 

"Husband? I'm not–" 

You stop at the corner as you wait for several cars to pass before crossing. A brown and white cruiser rolls past and you watch the bumper disappear down the next street. You continue on as Arvin kicks a pebble unwittingly. 

"Not married?" he finishes for you. 

"I live with my pa," you answer. 

"Course. You must be young then." 

"I'm grown," you insist.  

You hate how your daddy teases you in the same vein, especially when he has friends over. It felt worse coming from someone nearly your own age, or looks to be. 

"Ah, just wonderin'," he assures. 

You're quiet as you carry on. You know you shouldn't still be at home. Lots of girls in Knockemstiff marry before they finish school. You haven't even had a date, not a kiss, or a look in your direction. 

"Just up here," you point to the next corner. 

He nods and carries on, stopping at the end of the street as he turns to you, "you sure I can't walk you all the way?" 

"My pa wouldn't like that." 

"He loves you, huh?" 

"He's my pa," you shrug and reach for the bag. He hands it over reluctantly. 

"I hope I see ya around. I work down at the mill. For Mr. Haroldson. Case you're wonderin' where to find me." 

"Thanks," you hug the groceries. 

He gives a tight-lipped smile. Disappointment twitches in his cheek. 

"See ya ‘round then." 

"Maybe," you answer as you turn away. 

You continue down your street. Halfway, you look back. Still watching you, he waves and slowly walks back the way you came. You spin back along the old country road, houses speckled over flat fields. You pass the rusty old brown truck at the edge of your pa's property, the sheriff's cruiser parked closer to the shed. 

You didn't expect company tonight. It must've been the same cruiser you saw at the corner. Your dread bubbles up but you quickly tamp it down. The sheriff always makes you nervous. He's talkative and you're... not. 

As you go inside, you hear your pa grumbling. You put down the groceries as the screen door clatters and take off your tweed jacket. You hang it as you step out of your boots. 

"You know we miss you down at the station," Bodecker's voice nears as his footsteps lurk, "there she is." 

Before you can retrieve your haul, he has it in his arms, "how ya doin', baby girl?" 

His usual pet name makes you squirm. Your pa says it's just him being nice. You never say anything against it. 

"I got it–" 

You try to take the bag but he holds it away from you. 

"Nah, what kinda man would I be, let alone a sheriff, if I didn't help a lady?" 

He winks and turns away from you, leading you past the doorway of the front room. You peer over at your father as he scowls and gulps from a can of beer. The sheriff likely brought the appeasing six pack to ease his presence. 

"What's for dinner tonight?" Bodecker asks as he puts the bag on the counter, peering inside. 

"I'm making a meat pie," you explain as you go to the fridge, "be more than enough for company, if you like?" 

"Now, how'd such a sweet thing like you come from that old coot?" He smirks over as you take out the beef wrapped in brown paper. 

You shrug and take the cutting board from against the wall. He doesn't move as you set up around him. You hate how his eyes follow you. Every time he's around. 

"You don't gotta work?" You ask as you reach for the bag. He pushes it towards you as he steps closer, looming over you. 

"I'm off duty for the night. Think I might indulge with your daddy," he reaches into the bag, his belly brushing your elbow as he lifts out the rum, "good brand." 

"Pa likes it," you step away as you search the cupboard. 

"You're old enough, you could join us after dinner–" 

"I don't like the taste and my pa don't want me drinking," you kneel to pull a pan out from the drawer. 

"Good habit not to take up," he clunks the bottle on the counter and rests his hand on the neck, "that boy you were walkin' with, he your friend?" 

"Boy? No, he was being helpful is all." 

"Was he, now?" He comes closer as you stand, "I know that boy, he ain't helpful." 

You glance at him. His blue eyes cling to you and you don't miss how they wander to the top of your blouse. You put the pan down and turn to grab your apron.  

He comes up behind you and takes the string, tying them tight as you wince in surprise. 

"Well, you're young. I'm sure you're fixing to find a husband soon. I'm just lookin' out for you." 

"I'm not looking for a husband," you draw away from him, "thank you, sheriff." 

"Well, your daddy won't live forever. Who's gonna take care of you, then?" 

You face him and frown, "I don't wanna think about that, sheriff, and I got dinner to make." 

"I'm sorry, baby girl, I worry about you. How long have I known you? I can't help it." 

"Thank you, sheriff, for worrying, but I'll be just fine." 

He tilts his head, bemusement sparkles in his vibrant irises, "I'm sure ya will be, baby girl… very fine." 

He sidles away and you return to the counter, pulling a knife from the block. The sooner dinner's on the table, the sooner you can go hide. 

🍽️

You clear your plate first, dinner’s made less appetizing by the sheriff and his leer. Your father doesn't help as he drinks more than he talks and you're left to entertain Lee's comments about your cooking and the same blouse he'd seen you in a dozen times. 

As you stand, the sheriff slurps from his beer and watches you. His lips shine as he puts the can down and smirks, "baby girl, you mind gettin' me the ketchup?" 

You swallow and nod, "certainly, sheriff." 

You turn and carry your plate into the kitchen, clunking it down on the counter before pulling open the fridge. You take the glass bottle of Heinz and return to the dining room to set it down.  

"Pa, you need anything?" 

"Dammit, Marcy, leave me be. I told ya… patrol's been busy," he waves his hand at you dismissively, your mother's name giving you pause. Lee hesitates as he twists off the metal lid. 

"I… pa, I…" 

"Is this what you're gon' do? Pester me?" Your daddy slurs, "'cause what? She was only being nice, ya know? I was too, I couldn't say no–" 

"Jack," Lee reaches over and pats your father's arm with his knuckles, "ain't there a game on soon? That old radio still work?" 

Your father blinks drunkenly and scowls. He shakes his head and hiccups, swearing as he tries to drink from his empty can. He tosses it so it bounces off the edge of the table. 

"Course it does," he sneers. 

"You got twenty on the home team?" Lee goads, "I should lock ya up for gambling." 

"Ah shut up," your father glowers into a dark chuckle, "it's you that's gon pay me fifty anyhow. Can't lock a man up for winning." 

"Ah sure, Jack," Lee stands and claps your father's shoulder, "come on. We’re missing the first." 

You don’t miss how the sheriff shifts his grip and lurches your father out of his chair. He gives him a nudge toward the front room and glances back at you. You should be grateful for the redirection, yet the leer in his eyes only makes you nervous. You know he’ll be wanting thanks for that for a long time to come. 

“How about you bring some of that rum out with dessert?” Lee smirks as he follows your father towards the den. 

You don’t mention that you didn’t have anything planned for dessert. He doesn’t wait for you to say so. He chuckles and teases your dad again about the wager. 

You’ll have to come up with something. You might be able to spare enough for cream puffs. Those were always ma’s specialty. 

[bullet-prooflove]

Revelations: 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.

Wait It Out - You and Gibbs wait out a threat to your saftey.

Right Here - You come home to find Gibbs waiting for you on your doorstep.

Gibbs wakes up to the scent of coffee and lemons, it floods his senses as he jolts awake on a couch that is far too small for his stature. There’s a pounding in his temples, an ache in his lower back and a dryness in his mouth that he’s not experienced for a while, not since the early days of his retirement from the Marines.

“Up and at ‘em sunbeam.” You boom as you set a mug down on the driftwood coffee table beside him. “You have an hour before you need to be in work and you stink like a distillery.”

It takes him a minute to detangle himself from the soft, grey blanket. He has a fleeting memory of it being draped across his body as he sank into the depths of the couch, your hair falling across his face as you tucked it in around him. He remembers reaching out to brush a stray back behind your ear as he looked up at you and you’d given him that smile, the one that made him want to kiss you.

He winces as he shifts into a sitting position, his head spinning for a second. He runs his hand over his weary features as you step back into the living room, his gear bag clasped between your hands before you deposit it on the armchair you were sitting in last night.

“Sorry.” He finds himself saying although it seems inadequate in reflection considering he turned up on your doorstep drunk last night.

“Don’t be.” You say unzipping his bag and searching through it. “It’s nice not to be the fucked up one for a change.”

It wounds him a little that you see yourself like that. He thinks you’re strong, brave, fierce. Grief has a way of eating you up, consuming you and despite that you’re still here, putting one foot in front of the other, day after day.

“I have to leave in a minute, I’m in court all day testifying in the Reynolds case but use the shower to clean yourself up.” You tell him, tugging a clean shirt out of his bag and laying it over the back of the armchair so it doesn’t crease. “The door locks automatically on the way out, just make sure you shut it behind you.”

And with that you’re on your way out, leaving him alone in your house.

If that isn’t trust he doesn’t know what is.

The silence is deafening after he listens to your car drive away. It’s his first time in your home, it’s feels bright, airy. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with titles he doesn’t recognise. You seem to swing between genres. His cheeks colour as he observes some of the more risqué ones. A marine buddy of his had a theory once that men buy porn mags because they need the visualisation while women prefer to read it. Gibbs would say it was an astute assumption from the look of the glossy black titles on the bottom shelf.

He picks up his coffee cup as he raises to his feet, drawn to the pictures resting upon the mantlepiece. You look a lot like your sister, same hair colour, same eyes. The smile though that’s different, hers is vivacious while yours is always seems tempered. That’s what comes of being the oldest sibling he thinks, that responsibility had weighed on you even then.

His eyes come to rest on another image, his eyebrows furrowing into a frown. There’s a face there, one he doesn’t expect. His gaze lingers on the banner strung up in the background before it darts to man sitting beside Violet, his arm draped around her shoulders, his lips brushing over her temple.

It’s an engagement party.

One for Mike Franks and Violet.

In the shower he replays ever single interaction he’s experienced between the two of you as he uses your shower gel to rinse the stench of whiskey from his skin. He didn’t see it at the time, he was too busy trying to keep his head above water in his new role. The fact that Mike never goes down to the morgue when you’re on shift, he sends Randy or Gibbs or Lala. The wide berth he gives you at crime scenes, the exchange of curt nods and abrupt greetings. He sees it for what it is now, purposeful distance. Being in proximity to each other, it means sharing a tragedy and that’s not something that either one of you wants to re-live.

When he gets into the office, he can’t stop thinking about it. The scent of you clings to his skin from the shower gel and it’s maddening because all he wants to do is bury himself in his work and forget he ever learned about your connection to Mike Franks but it’s damn near impossible.

He watches the other man, his feet resting on his desk as he flicks through the blue folder in his hands, his forehead creased as he studies the information. He must feel Gibb’s eyes on him because his gaze flickers up, those dark eyes boring into his.

“Got a problem Probie?” He asks and Gibbs shakes his head, his thoughts drifting back to that picture on your mantlepiece.

“No problem.” He states returning his attention to the file in his hands. Violet’s file. The one that contains all documentation of her case. “No problem at all.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[amirasainz]

Hi! Cloud I please request Amira attending a race in Australia but before that visiting the famous Bondi Beach with some of her family (that isn't Carlos) and the lifeguards from Bondi Rescue, current and ex are really excited to meet her. The beach isn't too busy because it's be like autumn time. Idk where else to go with this sorry

Don't worry, my friend. You are at the right place. I hope you guys enjoy reading this and let me know if you have any requests.

-XoXo

Bondi Rescue

The Australian Grand Prix—the race that held a special place in Amira’s heart. She loved the vibrant energy of the “Land Down Under,” from the people to the natural beauty and the animals. This year, she had a whole list of things she wanted to do in Australia. Unfortunately, because it was Saturday, neither Carlos nor the other drivers could join her. However, her cousin Carlos “Cacao” Oñoro Sainz stepped up as her sidekick.

After visiting the Australian Zoo, going on a shopping spree and enjoying lunch with a view of the Opera House, they decided to cap off their busy morning with a relaxing beach trip. And what better place than the beloved Bondi Beach?

Cacao wasn’t thrilled about random strangers seeing his little cousin in a bikini, but he’d silently judge anyone who dared to look twice at her. Fortunately, the beach was mostly empty due to the cooler weather and a recent storm warning. But nothing could deter Amira from visiting Bondi Beach.

After they set up their spot, Amira wordlessly made her way toward the water. “Hey, hey, hey. Where do you think you’re going, pequeño alborotador?” Carlos asked, concern in his voice. “Well, we’re at a beach, so I’m going…in the…water,” she whispered the last part. They locked eyes, each assessing the other.

With a shrug, Amira continued walking into the water, ascending until it reached her thighs. Cacao stayed back, keeping a close eye on her. Carlos Sr., Carlos Jr., and every other family member would never forgive him if anything happened to her. Hell, he wouldn’t forgive himself either. This was the moment he started overthinking really hard.

As Amira took a moment to soak in the surroundings—the distant seagulls, the water’s gentle aggression—her relaxation was interrupted by a shout from her right.

“Hey, everything alright?” A man stood there, long blond hair and a kind smile. Clearly, he was a lifeguard. “Si, I’m alright.” Jethro, the lifeguard, was mesmerized by the pretty girl before him. “You aren’t from 'ere, are ya? A beautiful girl like you probably comes from heaven or something.” His comment made Amira giggle, opening the door for conversation.

In the lifeguard house, Huts and Jessie watched Jethro talking to the breathtaking woman. She had caught their attention when she ventured into the water alone. For some reason, Jethro had volunteered to approach her.

“Mate, what are you two watching?” Harries asked. “You won’t believe this, H, but our boy Jethro is talking to the most magnificent Sheila over there,” Jessie replied, keeping his gaze fixed. “No way!” Harries grabbed the binoculars from Huts. “No freaking way. Since when does Jethro have it in him?” he murmured. Gavin joined them, and for the next 10 minutes, the entire Bondi Beach lifeguard staff kept their eyes on Jethro and the pretty girl.

“- and even though I’ve told them five times not to swim near the cliffs, they keep going back there.” “No way,” Amira laughed. She genuinely enjoyed talking to Jethro. He was funny and kind. When he offered her his T-shirt to ward off the wind chill, she appreciated the gesture. After a comfortable silence, Jethro asked shyly, “I know we just met, but I’d like to see you again next time you’re here. Would it be okay to ask for your number?” “Of course. I enjoyed our conversation too.” Amira assured him. When she tried to return his shirt, he quipped, “Na, don’t worry, pretty girl. I’m really hot-blooded,” making her burst into laughter.

And Cacao? Cacao blinked, momentarily disoriented by his thoughts. The sound of his cousin’s footsteps snapped him back to reality. Amira had returned, and he focused on her, ready to engage in their next adventure.

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Devil in Disguise

[A/N: Let's just pretend this isn't like two weeks overdue, mmkay?]

🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤

Request: Jethro Gibbs x female reader (possession, brat/brat tamer dynamic)

“Tell me you’re not wearing that right now.”

Pressing your phone closer to one ear and your finger into the other, you say, “What? It’s so loud hear, Jay, I can’t hear you.”

“I said-”

“Hang on.” Snagging a fresh beer from the cooler, you pass your favorite colleague on your way to the balcony and mouth, It’s Jethro, by way of an explanation for your absence for the next few minutes. She nods in understanding before throwing you an exaggerated wink, and you indulge in a smile back. “Okay,” you breathe once out in the fresh air. Music is still pumping from inside the building, but it’s at a much more reasonable level with the door closed behind you. “What’s up, baby?”

“What’s up? What’s up?”

“Mhm,” you respond easily, masking your delighted giggle with a pull from your beer.

“I found your little… gift,” he grumbles. “That’s what’s up.”

“You like it?”

He peruses the Polaroids spread out across the coffee table featuring you in a “Halloween costume” -that, to him, looks better suited for roleplay in the bedroom- in various suggestive positions. You had been kind enough to sneak the stack into Jethro’s current nightly read so that the photos would fall out as he settled into the couch to pass the time before you returned home.

“What do you think, brat?” he growls lightly, pulling one photo of you kneeling before the mirror in your bedroom closer to admire the way your lacy red lingerie peeks out from beneath your white skirt.

You hum in mock contemplation on the other end of the line before settling on, “Sounds like you like ‘em a lot.”

“I want to take you over my lap for wearing it out of the house without me there to ward off any straying eyes. And then I want to rip it off with my teeth.”

You inhale a sharp breath, then produce a dumbfounded albeit excited, “Oh.” 

“Yeah. Oh. When are you coming home?”

“A few hours?” you guess. “I didn’t expect your case to wrap up tonight.”

He grunts by way of a response, ever the poet. Then, “Are you having fun at least?”

An idea pops into your head, and you grin to yourself. “Not as much fun as I could be having, but yes. I’ll see you at home, okay? Love you, handsome.”

“Call me when you’re ready for me to come get you,” he says, one of his many versions of I love you. “See you later, honey.”

After catching up with your coworkers and downing some more liquid courage, you sneak off to the nearest bathroom, securely closing and locking the door behind you. You hike your leg up on the counter to show off your lacy underwear and tug your top down enough to free your tits from the confines of your push-up bra before snapping a picture with an angelic smile to complement your all-white outfit and wings. 

You type out, If only I had a strong, sturdy gunnery sergeant to teach me a lesson about respecting my elders… and send your text off with a sly grin before righting yourself and returning to the party.

You can’t help checking your phone and watching the minutes tick by without a response, wondering if your old man is upset with your bratty teasing- or if he even managed to open the attachment on his ancient device.

When you look up from checking your phone for the twelfth time in as many minutes, you find your friend’s eyes widening comically as she quietly announces, “Boyfriend at six o’clock and he does not look happy.”

Before you can even process her words, you find yourself hoisted into the air, your angel wings flapping in protest as you settle over Jethro’s solid shoulder. “Took you long enough,” you huff with faux indignance. Even without looking, he knows your lips are turned downward in a pout and your arms are crossed.

“Yeah?” he rumbles out, waiting until you’ve exited the building and are away from prying eyes to land a firm smack to your ass. You let out a yelp and he asks, “This what you wanted?”

“Pretty much,” you admit, shooting him a cheeky grin when he lays you down across the backseat of his truck before climbing in between your spread legs.

Jethro shakes his head with a laugh, plucking a stray feather from your fake wings off his shoulder. Then he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, and you can’t help but moan and buck up against him in response. “Need you,” you whine, using the collar of his polo shirt as leverage to pull him closer.

“I know,” he soothes quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth while his fingers hook into your panties to tug them down your legs. His eyes grow a shade darker when you squirm beneath him with a whimper, the dim overhead car light reflecting in the wetness coating your upper thighs. “But first I need to teach my little angel a lesson about respecting her elders.”

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Hope things are going well for you!

Could you do a Gibbs x y/n where there son falls at home and gets a broken arm and y/n feels horrible/guilty that she let it happen under her watch. He meets them at the ER where the son refuses to let him go and y/n won't meet his eye. On the way home he holds her hand and convinces there son that his cast is cool and he can ask others to sign it. When they get home he goes to play. Gibbs finds y/n crying asks him "why am I such a bad parent"

Bad Mom?

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 2461

Warnings: Mild language, blood, injury, gore, angst…

A/N: Hopefully, this is okay! I really enjoyed writing this! Sorry it took so long for me to get this done! Xx

You hum softly as you continue working on the salad to go with dinner. Jethro would be home a little later, but you always make sure he comes home to a nice, relaxing dinner.

Your guys’ son, Maddox Leroy Gibbs, was upstairs playing with his newest birthday gift. Jethro had got him a wood-carving kit and now Maddox couldn't keep his hands off it.

All of a sudden, you heard thumps before the most pained scream you've ever heard. You dropped the glass bowl of salad, ignoring the glass shattering on the ground as you race towards the crying.

There was Maddox laid on the ground, cradling his arm. You fall to your knees beside him and gently grab him.

"Baby, hey, I need you to tell me what happened. What hurts?" You ask softly.

"M-My arm!" He wails.

You gently pull his hand away as your stomach flips and your throat tightens seeing blood and bone. He screams, wailing louder.

"Look away." You demand as you stand, picking him up as you grab the keys and your phone on the way out.

You barely were able to lock the door as you run out towards your car. You get him in the booster seat, grabbing the first aid kit and quickly taping gals over it loosely so he wouldn't be able to see it.

You hurry to the drivers side, starting to drive the way that Jethro drives. You open your phone with shaky hands and dial his number. It rings and rings until it says his mailbox was full. You throw the phone down in the seat next to you as your shaky hands grip the wheel tighter as you break every driving law to make it to the hospital.

You were out of your car, running to his side of the car as you swung the door open, picking him up and running inside. Immediately nurses flank you, having you place him on a gurney before your told to move your car.

You felt irritated, but you also understood. You quickly move you car before finding your way inside. You weren't allowed to go in the room with him as they had an officer on the way to question you. You knew they thought this was some abuse case, but it wasn't. You grab your phone dialing his number again and you kept dialing until he finally answered.

"Hon, I'm in the middle of a case right now." He says irritated.

"J-Jethro, h-he fell down the stairs and he hurt his arm really bad. T-They won't let me see him! They have an officer coming to question me because they think this an a-abuse case!" You sob into the phone, ignoring the nurses who gave you the stink-eye.

"Hon, I'm on my way. Do not answer any questions. Tell them your waiting on me." He says sternly.

Before you could say anything, he had hung up. You let your head fall into your hands as you cry harder.

"I want my mom!" He wails and you stand as you rush towards him.

"Ma'am, you can't see him until you've been questioned and cleared." A nurse snaps, pushing at you.

"He's my son! I'd never hurt him! Let me see him!" You snap, trying to push through towards your son.

"Mommy!" He wails.

"It's okay, baby! Daddy's on his way!" You say as tears fall down your cheeks and big burly security guards push you back towards the little sitting area in the hallway.

They cuff your hands behind your back and make you sit as you refused to leave. You looked at the ground, your head racing as terrible thoughts went through your head.

Jethro parks his car hastily, getting out of the car as his team followed him in. He tried to get them to stay and work on the case, but they refused. Maddox was their nephew and they'd do anything for the kid.

Jethro walks in, his eyes finding you. For a brief moment, he felt relief until he saw the cuffs on your wrists.

"Take the cuffs off her, now." He barks, striding towards you.

"Sir—now!" He interrupts.

The security guard fumbles with the keys as he roughly pulls you up before Jethro pinned him against the wall. Tony grabs the keys off the floor, undoing the cuffs on your wrists.

"Don't you ever put your hands on my wife like that again." He warns.

"Hey sweet cheeks, your okay." Tony murmurs as he hugs you.

"They won't let me see him." You mumble numbly into his chest.

"They will once Gibbs is through with them." He teases and you couldn't help the small shaky smile.

"Hon, come on." Jethro says.

You walk towards him, keeping your eyes casted to the floor. His arm wraps around your waist protectively as he walks towards the desk.

"Where is my son?" He demands.

"S-She needs to be questioned." The nurse says weakly.

"My wife wouldn't ever lay a hand on our son. He fell down the stairs, kids have accidents all the time. Let me see our damn son." He snaps.

"O-Of course, right this way sir." She says and starts to lead us towards the room he was in.

You hesitate and hang back towards the doorway as Jethro heads towards Maddox who was sat up in the bed with a light blue cast on his arm.

“Daddy!” He exclaims, throwing himself towards Jethro who chuckles and catches him.

You catch sight of stitches across his eyebrows and you let a shaky breath out.

“Careful buddy, you can take someone out with that thing.” Jethro teases which makes Maddox giggle.

“I don’t really like it. It’s going to stop me from being able to do my wood carvings.” He pouts.

“I think it’s a really cool cast. You can have people sign it even! And you can take a break from the wood carving, son. I’ll get you some more while you got the cast on so we can let the supplies build up.” He says.

“Okay! Uncle Tony, will you sign my cast?” He asks.

“Of course! I even so happen to have a sharpie on me!” He exclaims with a childish grin.

Your heart aches and you sit down as you watch Maddox with soft and sad eyes. Jethro was in the corner of the room, on the phone with director as he kept an eye on Maddox as well.

You look away from Maddox and at the floor when a nurse walks in. She looks at you as if you had the plague, in which Maddox notices and frowns.

“Why are you looking at my mommy that way?” He snaps.

The nurse was taken aback as you look up alarmed. You stand, walking over to the bed and reach a shaky hand out to brush his hair away from his eyes. You leave a kiss on his head.

“It’s okay, baby.” You murmur.

He looks at you confused. He was a smart child for his age. He definitely had his fathers profiling skills, that’s for sure. He looks back at the nurse, his eye narrowing as he latches onto you, hugging you tightly. Jethro was grinning in the corner as your lips part in surprise.

“Ma’am, we still have to follow protocol.” The nurse says in which your heart shatters.

“Protocol? Mommy, what’s she talking about?” He asks, looking up at you with Jethro’s blue eyes.

“It’s nothing, baby. Mommy will be back, I promise.” You murmur.

“No. I’ll be back, buddy. Mommy will stay with you.” Jethro says.

You watch confused as he leaves with the timid nurse. Tony throws an arm over your shoulder and smiles.

“Trust me, boss will handle it. Your a good mom, don’t let them tell you otherwise.” He says.

“Are they saying your a bad mommy?” Maddox asks confused.

“I-I, no…they just have to follow protocols they put in place to keep people safe.” You explain slowly.

Thankfully, Jethro was back quickly and even somehow managed to get his prescriptions whilst filling out the discharge papers. Jethro sent the team back in the work car and was going to drive you and Maddox home. Tony offered to drive Jethro’s car home, but you settled on taking Jethro to work tomorrow as you felt guilty for calling him from work early.

Maddox was asleep in the backseat, and you were focused on the building and other structures out your window. Jethro kept glancing over, sensing you weren’t okay. He grabs your hands and squeezes it gently.

“Sorry I snapped at you on the phone earlier today, hon. I don’t want you to think you can’t call me. For now on, I’ll answer immediately if I’m not out in the field.” He promises.

“Jethro, I’m not upset you didn’t answer or that you snapped at me. I know your working on a case right now.” You say softly.

“Then what has you upset?” He asks as he pulls into the driveway.

“Nothing.” You lie, getting out of the car.

“I’ll get him. You get the door opened.” He says.

You nod, heading towards the door and unlocking it. You are greeted with blood on the ground and you immediately grab your cleaning caddy from the closet and start cleaning it up. Jethro walks in, holding Maddox. He frowns seeing your shaky hands scrub at the puddle of blood.

“Hon, I got that. Let me go put him in bed and then I’ll clean that up.” He says.

“No, it’s okay. I got it. Here, you go on up and I’ll finish this up.” You say quietly.

You move just enough so he can get up the stairs. He gets to the third or fourth step before looking back down at you concerned. His eyes find your bruised wrists and his frown deepens. He turns, focusing on getting Maddox up to bed.

“Daddy.” Maddox mumbles sleepily.

“Yes, buddy?” He asks softly, tucking him in.

“Why did the doctors think mommy is a bad mommy?” He asks.

“Because they are a bunch of knuckleheads and don’t know what a good mommy you have. Don’t worry about it, buddy.” He says.

“Daddy?” He whispers as he starts to fall back to sleep.

“Yes?” He asks.

“Can mommy give me a little brother or sister?” He asks.

“I…I mean, I’ll talk to mommy and see what she wants to do, but she loves you so much. I think she’s happy with just you.” He murmurs.

Little did Maddox know, Jethro was scared to have another one. He was scared to have Maddox after what happened with Shannon and Kelly. He barely let you in and then finding out you were pregnant nearly sent him over the edge. You loved kids and you want a whole damn school bus of kids.

Maddox goes to say something, but it was little mumbles before he was softly snoring. Jethro chuckles, brushing his hair out of his forehead before leaning down and kissing his head.

He heads downstairs to see the blood cleaned up. He goes to the kitchen where he heard you. You were sweeping up the salad and broken bowl into a pan.

“What happened?” He asks, taking the dust pan to hold it.

“When I heard Maddox scream, I just dropped the bowl and ran for him.” You mumble quietly.

“Hon, go take a bath and relax. I’ll finish the clean up. I promise you that Maddox is okay.” He says.

You hesitate, but with a stern look from him, you nod slowly. You head up the stairs, starting your bath. He finishes up the floor before he cleans up what would have been dinner. He does dishes and takes the trash out before deciding to check on both Maddox and you. He checks on Maddox first to see him sleeping.

He nears the bathroom before slowing his steps as he hears your muffled crying. He walks in and sees your face buried in your knees, suds covering your bits from view.

“Hon, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asks, kneeling by the tub.

“Why am I such a bad mom?” You sob.

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” He asks.

“He’s hurt because of me, Jethro. Those nurses had every right to look at me like that. I’m a terrible mom. There was blood, everywhere and the bone was sticking out. His screams…gosh his screams were so loud. I didn’t even notice he cut his eyebrow until I saw the stitches.” You sob.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. He’s a kid and kids have accidents. Maddox loves to run throughout the house and we could tell him until we were blue in the face not to run in the house. He slipped and fell. It wasn’t your fault. You know how many times I got hurt as a kid? A lot. We can’t protect him from everything as much as we wish we could. Things like this will teach him why we tell him not to run in the house or why not to go outside barefoot. We can only do so much. Your an amazing mom. He knows so.” He murmurs, rubbing your back.

“I can’t even look at him. I feel terrible. It’s all my fault.” You whisper.

“It’s not your fault and you know that. He knows that and I know that. He knows your a good mom. He told me when he woke up briefly because he caught onto the way the nurses were treating you. He actually wants another siblings. He told me.” He says, sighing as he plops on the ground.

Your head flies up, your eyes wide as you look at him. You reach a hand out and grab his hand, rubbing it gently.

“You know we don’t have to. I know how scary it was when you found out I was pregnant with Maddox. I am perfectly content with Maddox and you.” You say softly.

“I think I might want another one. Maybe we’ll get a little girl this time.” He murmurs.

“Really?” You ask surprised.

“Yeah.” He says with a soft smile.

“Your such an amazing dad, Jethro. Maddox absolutely loves you. He always tells me that he wants to be an NCIS agent just like you.” You say with a soft smile.

“And your such an amazing mom. He tells me all the time. He also tells me how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you proud. Whether it be cleaning up his toys or helping with the groceries. He loves you and he idolizes you so much.” He murmurs.

[kdogreads]

Ain’t Woman Enough

Gibbs x f!reader

Warnings: jealous!reader, slight angst but mostly fluff and flirting, allusions to smut but no actual smut

A/N: This song popped up on shuffle and this fic just came to me. Enjoy!

Thank you @daphne-bourne for reigniting my Gibbs love and finally getting this out of my drafts! 💕

You walked with a certain pep in your step as you made your way to the front lobby of the NCIS building where you knew your man would be waiting for you. It was nice working in the same building, him in the investigative unit and you in legal, since you could meet up for coffee breaks or after the workday. It had been such a long, frustrating day today and you couldn’t wait to fall into his embrace.

To your surprise, he wasn’t sitting at his usual spot with a coffee in his hand and another on the table for you. No, he was standing near the small café with a wide smile on his face, hands in his pockets, and a tall, lean, red-headed woman in front of him.

You slowly made your way down the long staircase to the main floor of the lobby, your gaze never leaving your boyfriend and his new friend. She was laughing and putting her hand on Jethro’s bicep as you approached. He must have said something that was just so funny. A hot blush swells over your chest.

“Jethro,” you practically spat, clearing your throat and taking a step closer. His eyes met yours and his features immediately softened into a real smile, much different than the fake one he was sporting just a moment ago.

“Hi sweetheart,” The words flow off his lips in that deep baritone honey you love so much. You raise your brow, glancing over to the mystery woman quickly, trying your hardest not to give in to his knee-weakening gaze.

“Oh Jethro, is this one of your fellow special agents?” The woman questions. It takes everything in you to not slap her right across her primped face. Patience is a virtue you remind yourself in your head

Rather than letting him answer the question, you step closer to him and place a hand firmly on his shoulder, balancing yourself to reach up and kiss him sweetly and deeply. Usually you wouldn’t show such affection in public, but you had a point to make. You can hear an audible gasp coming from the red-headed hussy behind you.

Your lips lock with his over and over, tongue poking onto his lower lip. Jethro grabs at your arm with a harsh grip, practically asking you “What the hell has gotten into you?” With only his fingertips. A soft hum escapes your lips as you finally pull away and you meet Jethro’s wide-eyed expression with your smug one.

“Very special,” You purr, reaching over to swipe a smudge of lipstick off of his lip. Out of the corner of your eye you see Jethro trying desperately to hide a cheeky smirk from spreading across his face.

“Oh, Jethro was just telling me how close your team is, but I, uh, didn’t realize you were, so um—“ The woman stammered and straightened up, fidgeting with her blouse, suddenly unsure what to do with her hands.

Jethro’s hand slides down to land on your lower back and he presses a short peck to your temple. You can barely feel the small gust of air expelling from his nose as he stifles a laugh.

“Some more than others,” He finally breaks the uncomfortable (for the mystery women) silence.

“Well it was lovely to meet you,” You begin facetiously, “Better be on our way, hm Jet?” You slide your hand into his and turn to head towards the door.

She just stands there speechless, probably for the first time in her life, and watches the two of you walk away, hand-in-hand.

You make it out the door and into the warm summer evening air before Jethro lets out a laugh. Your eyes meet his as your hands raise to your hips, one popping out to the side, just waiting for him to speak first.

“Green is a new color on you, sweetheart,” He laughs and pulls you into a sweet hug, still chuckling snd shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” You sigh into his warm, broad chest, “I didn’t mean to make a scene. I just, I didn’t like the way she was talking to you — flipping her hair, grabbing your arm,” You mock her movements in a most exaggerated fashion, pulling another honey-glazed laugh from your man.

“Just an old friend, killer,” He reassures you, pulling your hand up to meet his lips while you just stand there, defeated.

“Mhm, you have a lot of old friends around here, player,” You raise an eyebrow at him again, jabbing your finger jokingly into his chest, “Especially red-headed ones.”

He lowers his chin to meet your gaze head-on, the hint of a smile yanking on one side of his closed lips. He grumbles something akin to “c‘mere” and pulls you into him again, one hand meeting the small of your back and the other resting at the base of your neck. His long, thick fingers snaked over your loose hair and pulled it over your shoulder so one ear was exposed. He placed a sweet peck on your lips before trailing them to the shell of your ear.

“None of them compare to you,” He growls, barely loud enough for you to hear, but you feel the change in his tone immediately. A silly grin spreads across your face as you feel a rush of excitement creep into your chest.

Jethro does something next that sends that heat straight down to your lower half. He slides the hand that was planted on your back down and plants a swat on your butt that sends a shiver up your spine. He rarely shows you that kind of affection out in public.

It was when you lifted your eyes to meet his in surprise that you spotted Tony and McGee walking up to you, likely just wanting to say and instead getting a free show. Tony had wider eyes than you’d ever seen before and Tim was turning every shade of red.

“Uh, hey you,” Tony greets timidly, “Boss.” He can’t seem to meet either of your eyes. McGee just smiles and adjusts the collar on his shirt nervously.

“Hi boys!” You let out a laugh and tuck yourself into Jethro’s shoulder, pretending to hide your face, while he wraps a strong arm around your waist. He’s suddenly got the same stern look he always seems to have around his team.

“Have a good weekend, agents,” Jethro says with a certain lilt in his voice that only you seem to catch. Tony and McGee let a stream of “thanks boss,” “you too boss,” “bye guys,” “take care,” fall from their still-shocked mouths as you wave and start heading for the car per Jethro’s strong hand on your back guiding you that way.

You look up at him and his stern expression finally breaks, the corners of his mouth turning up into a knowing smile. He leans slightly and presses a kiss to your temple as you hurriedly make your way home so you can continue what he started.

[poorlywrittenbutentertaining]

Caring for a Duckling

Gibbs x Fem!oc

warnings: medical stuff, and boats... i guess?

summary: Gibbs is volunteered to care for Elaine after her concussion.

The sun splotched across Elaine’s face as her brain pulsated in her skull, splitting pains shooting down her spine. She attempted to open her eyes only to be met by a fresh spike of pain in the back of her head. She squinted against the light and tried to focus on her unfamiliar surroundings. The sheets she layed under were not her usual bamboo thread, but a homely, soft, cotton. The room she was in was unfamiliar. It was scarcely decorated, with what looked like quality, hand built furniture. She pulled the sheets from her body and looked down to find herself not in her scrubs, but a large, worn tee shirt and a pair of far oversized basketball shorts. Her brain scrambled to remember the events of the previous night, but it was like trying to collect water in a sieve.

Memory came in short, blurry flashes. A red hoodie here, a gurney there, and an old truck. Like watching a brief slideshow of her own evening. She didn’t remember drinking, let alone leaving her apartment. She rubbed her forehead, to be met with the soft scratch of gauze. Right, she had been hit in the head, hard. She began running a mental checklist.

Pain: moderately high

Memory loss sustained

Blunt force wound to the back of the head

Vision mildly blurry 

Delirium: no

Nausea: mild 

She sighed and looked out the window. She was greeted with a view of a small, well maintained garden. A face flashed through her head. Gibbs. She had been on the phone with him and he had been there when she woke up.

The door creaked lightly on its hinges and Elaine twisted towards the sound. Gibbs stood in the threshold holding a tall glass of water and some medicine.

“I was gonna leave these, but I guess you’re awake,” Gibbs said, “how are you feeling?”

“Bad,” Elaine answered honestly. Gibbs nodded and entered the room. He walked by her and placed the items on the carved bedside table, “you came to my house.”

“I did. I heard some commotion and came to check,” Gibbs shrugged.

“How did you get in?” Elaine asked.

“Same way the petty officer did. He broke your lock.”

“Oh…” At that moment something Dawned on Elaine, “did you change my clothes?!”

Gibbs chuckled, “no, you woke up and raided my closet before passing out again.”

“Ah,” Elaine nodded. She leaned her head into her hands and let out a long sigh, “what a nightmare.”

“Here, take these,” Gibbs held the pills and water in front of her, “it’ll help the pain.”

Elaine took the medicine, “I’m a doctor, gunny, I know what Tylenol does.” She quickly swallowed the pills dry and then took a few long gulps of the water. Gibbs gave a half smile and nodded.

“S’pose you do, doc.”

“Well I’m fine now, you can take me home,” Elaine moved to stand, ignoring the pounding in her head.

“Na-ah-ah,” Gibbs grabbed her upper arm, “I told Ducky I’d watch you today.”

“I’m a doctor, I can take care of myself.”

“Notorious fact that doctors make the worst patients.”

“And how would you know that, Gunny?” Elaine sassed.

“Because Ducky said so,” Gibbs' voice was even, he moved in close to her and Elaine felt her heart stammer for a moment, “now lay down.”

“Fine, fine,” Elaine put her hands up. Jethro released her arm and lifted the sheets for her, “I can get myself into bed.”

“I know.” 

Elaine rolled her eyes and scooted in, allowing him to fluff the sheets over her. She had to admit, the bed was nice.

~~~

The house had been quiet for a few hours and Elaine felt like she was going stir crazy. She slid herself out of the bed and began looking closer around the room. The furniture seemed unused, and if the fresh scent of laundry detergent was anything to go off of, Gibbs had probably retrieved her fresh sheets and blankets for the bed. There were no paintings or pictures on the walls, and while the decorations and furnishings were scarce they all held the signs of being homemade. Some from mismatched woods, others with intricate carvings. Elaine ran her hand over the dresser and slid open the top drawer. An assortment of linens, seemingly random. She closed the drawer and walked to the door, slowly turning the handle and cracking the door open with nary a squeak.

“Well oiled,” Elaine noted as she peeked down the hall. There were a few other doors, but what interested Elaine was the staircase down at the end of the hall. She padded down them quickly to be met with a much more open space. It was more decorated, the ghost of a woman’s touch fleeting in the details. A stack of coasters here, a small lamp there. Elaine smiled as she moved around the living space. It was clean, if not a little dated. There were books around the fireplace and a large TV hanging over the hearth. The leather couch was particularly worn on one cushion. The coffee table in front of it had a ring from a cup being placed over and over again. Elaine could imagine Gibbs sitting to watch TV in the same place every night, setting his cup on the edge of the coffee table.

While the space was inviting, it felt lonely. Like the ghost of Jethro would occasionally pass through the space, a specter in his own home. 

Elaine’s ears picked up a small scratching sound coming from an open door. She peeked through, finding the entrance to a basement. The scratching echoes through the cement room, a small amount of light being let in from the high windows. She approached the railing and peeked over, finding the boning of a wooden boat, and Gibbs dutifully sanding at one of the timber boards. The railing creaked under her weight.

“You should be laying down,” Gibbs said, the sanding stopped as he glanced up at her. Elaine simply shrugged and padded down the wooden stairs. Gibbs rolled his eyes and resumed his work.

“You build boats?” Elaine asked. Gibbs just nodded towards the wooden structure, “You know they make those automatic now.”

“Don’t use power tools,” Gibbs dusted the piece he was working on and resumed sanding.

“Really? None?” Elaine meandered to the workbench and took in the neatly organized tools. A series of manual drills, chisels, hammers, sanding blocks, and other woodworking tools Elaine didn’t recognize.

“Nope.”

Elaine peeked into his mug to find an amber liquid, she lifted it to her nose and sniffed. The scent burned in her nose and she cougehed, “bourbon?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Gibbs said.

“That’s code for, ‘it’s gross until you get used to it’,” Elaine gave him a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she continued looking around the basement, “Got anymore sandpaper?”

“You should be resting, Dr. Wright,” Gibbs turned to her.

“I’m bored and something deep inside me tells me that I can handle some sandpaper after bumping my head,” Elaine leaned back against the workbench. Gibbs let out a sigh and held the sandpaper out to her. She grinned and took it, stepping around him and approaching the boat. She began sanding side to side and gibbs quickly stopped her, placing his hand firmly over hers and then guiding it up and down.

“With the grain of the wood,” He said. Elaine swallowed and peeked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Right,” She nodded. His hand pulled away as he returned to the workbench.

Elaine spent the rest of the day practically tailing Gibbs until he placed a book firmly in her hands and had her sit down on the couch with an order to rest for the remainder of the day. It wasn’t long until she fell asleep.

~~~

Gibbs peeked out of the kitchen to find Elaine curled up on the couch. She laid in the worn spot he usually sat in. He sighed and shook his head. He grabbed a blanket from the closet and flicked it open. He laid it over Elaine and tucked it softly around her. He took the book from her hands and noted the page she was on before returning it to its place on the shelf.

His eyes flicked over to the front door when it creaked open. In the threshold stood Ducky, his coat draped over one arm and his briefcase in the other.

“I believe you are housing a little duckling, I’m here to take her home.”

(enjoyed it? Let me know what scenarios/episodes you want to see from Elaine and Gibbs next!)

[preservationofnormalcy]

[I am in a nature preserve in rural Louisiana. A small ranger station-like structure in the middle of the wetlands welcomes me through chain link fences as my driver signals his approach, and as I exit my vehicle, a man steps out of the station.

He is heavy-set, tall, a little overweight but in that working-man sort of way where his strength is evident. He’s wearing a white labcoat over a colorful shirt and jeans, with messy hair and old school mutton chops. I can’t decide if he’s going for a vintage look or just doesn’t want to deal with his facial hair. Huge hands clap together once as I walk up to the building, and he smiles.]

Meghan] Mr McCollough?

Jethro] Please, please ma’am, call me Jethro. Please, come in.

[The first room seems typical of what I would expect a station in the middle of the swamplands to look - a cot, couches, radios and locked long glass-paneled cabinets with guns. A large metal door on one end leads me into the next room, and this one is different. Computers, rows and rows of filing cabinets, and haphazard piles of paperwork on a laboratory benchtop that yield to clean, colored tape-zoned areas holding glassware, boxes of “Vacutainer” tubes, plastic racks. A well-used benchtop centrifuge in the sun-bleached cream and baby blue colors of equipment from the 80s holds tubes of separated liquid – clear on top, a strip of white, and deep red at the bottom. Another metal door on the opposite side leads further into the building. He gestures to a somewhat empty table with a chair on either side.

Jethro’s accent is slight but noticeable, quiet but gregarious. He doesn’t sit yet, but fumbles with a kettle and a hot plate.]

J] Don’t get many visitors out here. Pardon the mess. Tea?

M] Oh. Please, actually.

J] Yes, ma’am. The people above my head tell me you’re here to ask questions.

M] That’s right. I saw the, uh… immunization posters in the Virginia site I toured.

J] Oh, sure. That’s been routine for decades, now. Since they were developed in the 50s. Lots of progress, of course, but always lots to do. Half the issue’s the paperwork, you know. But, uh, yeah.

M] Does everyone get immunized?

J] If I had my way, yes. That’d be the right way to do it. But no, it’s only really required for so-called high risk zones, that’s what they decided.

[He gives me a wry smile over his shoulder.]

J] This here’s a high risk zone, ma’am. But…you won’t be here long enough for it to matter.

M] …here’s hoping. Umm. I had a list of questions.

J] Top of the list is probably “Jesus H, they’re real?”

[He laughs briefly at his own joke.]

M] …my work is more about the efficacy and efficiency of the Office’s divisions, departments, and programs. But yeah, kind of.

[He pours the hot water into two teacups, and hands me one, sitting on the opposite side of the table. His cup looks comically small in his large hands.]

J] Get the feeling you’ll be asking that a lot in the next months.

M] I do too. Let me see… what is the objective of the… Abnormal Virology Department?

J] So our mission statement is about the research, control, and prevention of diseases – viral diseases specifically, but other stuff comes up, but y’know, that’s another story – uh, diseases that fall outside the Office’s definition of “normal,” and our big goals hopefully are curative or preventative treatments for those diseases. It’s a tall order.

M] And… lycanthropy is a virus, like the flu?

J] I mean, as much as any virus is like another. Each one’s unique, even the flu subtypes, but yeah. If I may use some jargon,

[He pauses with a hint of eagerness for affirmation before continuing.]

J] It's a lysogenic virus, so if you get infected, it integrates into the host genome, more like, uh, I guess herpesvirus is one most people would know. Once you get it, you got it for life because it hides in your DNA. Like herpesviruses too, you have lytic phases too, where it becomes active again, it emerges out of the genome based on cues from environmental pressures or host conditions. Like the phase of the moon, you know, which is kind of unique. When it’s not actively causing disease, when it’s just sitting in your genome at these sequence specific integration sites across the chromosomes, it also screws with normal gene regulation. The sites it sits down, you get dysregulation of normal transcription, you start growing more body hair, eyes change color. Where the virus integrates is a little different across host genetic backgrounds, think like ancestries; do you know SNPs?

[He clears his throat.]

Anyway, that lysogenic, passive phase is why we need the boosters, it’s laying low, immune cells don’t see anything to protect against, and it preferentially hides out in memory B cells, some lymphocytes, and that also kind of messes up a normal immune response. Which is why you have the immunoglobulin in the shot too, but that’s getting into the weeds. Because if you don’t have a way for the immune system to stop it quickly when it decides to jump out of the genome again, then, of course, you have the active phase, which… you can guess about that.

M] How successful would you say the treatments are?

J] It’s pretty good, especially given this stuff is almost the same as we were using mid-century. If you have a healthy immune system, if you’re vaccinated at least a few weeks before exposure, so you have your standard immune repertoire ready to go, and then they’re exposed – assuming the inoculum isn’t, you know, that can be pretty high sometimes – then they probably won’t “catch it,” so to speak, it’s neutralized and doesn’t integrate into the genome, so you don’t have a permanent case of it. We can also suppress symptoms with treatments for those with especially bad cases. Treatment’s kinda heavy, with the administration and the side effects; not like you’re just popping a pill under your tongue; but once it’s taken hold, there’s no, uh, no real cure.

[Jethro is quiet for a moment, taking a glance out the window as he drinks.]

J] … listen, ma’am. I’m biased. I got a personal stake in all this. I’m kind of a lab guy, sure, but sometimes I go out there and actually… you know. I’m the boots on the ground here too. And I don’t carry the big guns like the guys in Security do, no, I’m here giving out shots to kids and families. There’s communities in this country, whole towns out in the swamps or up in the hollers that are majority-infected. They live with it, they make do. And they have a chance at that, at life, because of us. Hard to quantify, of course. If you’re looking for hard numbers, I can try and find ‘em–

[He gestures to the filing cabinets.]

J] If you got a week or two.

M] We can… coordinate records later. But we’ve successfully eradicated things like… you know, smallpox. Can we eradicate things like lycanthropy?

[He gives me a strange, wary look and picks up a plastic knife from the table, oddly stirring his drink. I take a sip of mine.]

J] I’d be careful, talking like that. Lotta people don’t just think they’re sick, they- we’re talking about people. People with a condition, sure, but the minute you start talking about eradicating is when we start having camps again.

M] … again?

J] There’s rural areas in this country that the Office hasn’t been in for decades. We aren’t welcome.

M] Can I ask what happened?

[Jethro takes a deep breath.]

J] In ‘55, the United States rolled out its polio vaccine program. Of course, the Office used the infrastructure, hustle and bustle of the whole thing as a cover for our own lycanthropic treatment programs. We, and when I say “we,” I mean the Office in general of course. I wasn’t even a pup then. But a couple Office research groups, the Wagner lab, they’d done deep research into the condition, validated a few hypotheses, and they were ready to pilot the production of a vaccine. They just needed plasma. From infected hosts.

M] … I think I see.

J] Yeah. Yeah, back then infected folks were basically ignored unless they were in legal trouble. Legal personhood hadn't been extended to lycanthropes yet.

M] Legal personhood?

J] Ask Ferd about that when you get back to Virginia. Unfortunately, that plasma was taken from… people who didn’t volunteer. Inmates at first, murderers. But scaling up collection, then it came from people who stole some cows, and then people who were even just accused of things. When the Wagner people showed the shot was actually working, the Office needed a lot more to even think about rolling it out everywhere it was needed, and people weren’t really volunteering, so…

[He sighs.]

J] We shouldn’t have been surprised when a lot of communities then rejected us after that. Word travels fast, and the symbol–

[He taps the OPN crest on his badge.]

J] –became the mark of the Beast. Figuratively. It’s been decades getting to the point where we can help people, and pardon my bragging, ma’am, but it’s people like me who are the reason why we can. Part scientist, part… social worker, I guess.

[The phone rings, and Jethro slides over on his rolling chair to answer it. He seems immediately worried, and after a moment of conversation he hangs up and rubs his face.]

J] Real sorry ma’am, gonna have to cut this short. I know you had a long trip. Maybe I can meet you somewhere that ain’t so out of the way.

M] Oh. That’s okay, Jethro. Um. How’s next Saturday?

[He rolls over to a calendar on the wall. July 2021.]

J] No… no, I’ll be needing a day or two off ‘round then. For the… weather.

M] …I think I see. I’ll call you, we can finish over the phone.

J] Probably for the best, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me, I got an emergency downstate. Small outbreak just confirmed, got some of that social work to do.

M] Should I be worried?

[He grins, throwing his labcoat onto a chair and pulling a dirty jumpsuit out of a pile.]

J] Hell no, ma’am. We’re professionals. Ain’t gonna be any rowdy gators causing any trouble.

M] …gat–

J] I trust you’ll see yourself out, ma’am.

(Buy the poster here!)

[dyinglikenarcissus]

Chapter 6. All Good Things Come to those Who Can Wait

7k words

Warnings: 18+ only. Virgin’s first time. It starts off gentle but it definitely gets rough

Please like and reblog if you enjoy ☺️

There’s a knock at your door far too early in the morning. You scrub your eyes and try to discern if it was part of a dream or real life.

Another knock makes you finally sit up.

You blink around your bedroom blearily. You weren’t expecting any packages or visitors. Maybe it was surprise PR…

You finally kick your feet to the floor and shuffle to the living room. You pull the step stool you keep near the door in place and check who’s outside.

“Bucky?” You whisper to yourself. Jethro chirps happily next to you as if confirming the visitor is his favorite babysitter.

“Good morning, princess!” He greets far too cheerfully for this early in the morning. “Were you asleep?”

“Who isn’t? It’s 5am on a Saturday,” you mumble and fall into his hug.

“It’s a good thing I brought you coffee,” he laughs and hands you a Dutch Bros cup. This is the most cheerful you’ve seen him since your wedding day. And he stopped up north for this? “I need you to pack up your shit and the pipsqueak.”

Your eyes widen at the statement. What did that mean? Were there more feds? Is there another trial? Are you running from someone?

“What’s going on?” You frown up at the giant brunet. “Is something… happening?”

Bucky snorts out a laugh. “No. You’re going on vacation.”

“Vacation? What? Now? Where? It’s almost Halloween! And the wedding!”

Bucky gives you a pointed look. He still hasn’t had that talk apparently.

“Am I going to Disney Shanghai?” You ask, changing the subject quickly.

“No.”

“Then I’m good.”

“Girl, if you don’t go pack your stuff!” Sam calls as he enters the door. You cry out his name and jump into his arms. “It’s been far too long,” he laughs into your hair.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

“We missed you, too.”

“Even Bucky?” You laugh.

“I may have missed Jethro more. All you do is steal my best friend and eat hot chips,” the brunet jokes as he scoops up your cat. “But I do miss our coffee runs.”

“He stopped going to Starbucks after you moved back home.”

“It’s because they support Israel or something. I’m trying to be proactive.”

“Yeah, right. And not because I told you that on the flight over,” Sam smirks.

“I know stuff!” Bucky defends himself. You giggle at their antics. You didn’t realize how much you missed them.

“What am I packing for exactly?” You ask, stopping an argument from breaking out.

“It’s a surprise,” Sam grins.

“But bring plenty of swimsuits."

“And sunscreen.”

“And if you have one of those big sun hats like the girls on Insta have, you might want to bring one of those.”

“Okay, so beach maybe? There’s a beach 30 minutes from here. Why do I need to go anywhere?”

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” Bucky sighs. You roll your eyes at his statement.

“How long?”

“However long you want,” Sam smiles.

“You know, Steve promised no more surprises after Sausalito,” you sigh and cross your arms over your chest. The man gets locked up for a couple of years and it’s like everything he said was forgotten.

“Yeah, well, Stevie ain’t here,” Bucky grins.

“And unless your grandpa was murdered on a private island, we doubt you’ll be upset.”

“Private island?”

“See! Now you’ve told her!” Bucky sighs and falls onto your couch. “Oh shit! No shoes in the house, huh?” He asks and starts pulling off his shoes and tosses them near the door.

“Steve did say no surprises,” Sam shrugs and slips off his shoes. “Do you need help packing?”

You let out a deep sigh. It’s not like you had things planned…

“No. Just give me a couple of hours.”

“Take your time,” Sam bids.

“You got Netflix?” Bucky asks making himself comfortable.

“Nope. Just Disney, Discovery, and Amazon. Watch the Property Brother,” you laugh as you walk into your bedroom.

“The new season of The Boys started,” you hear Sam state as you walk away.

An unknown time on a private island. What do I even pack?

A couple of hours later, you start cleaning the toilets and the kitchen. You don’t want to leave your little condo in a state that looked like it was lived in. You mother would turn over in her grave.

“Okay, guys. I’m going to run the trash outside and I’ll be ready.”

“I got it,” Bucky grunts and stands up.

“Are you sure? Do you know where it is?”

“No. But I’m sure you’ll tell me.” You giggle and give him instructions on the trash and recycling before ushering Jethro into his carrier.

“Okay. Chargers? Cell phones? Camera? Cables…yeah. Oh! Almost forget your lime!” You exclaim and start to look around for the catnip lime toy. You get on the floor to look under the couch.

“Why is there a lime under the couch?” Sam laughs.

“It’s a toy. Kamala got it for him for his birthday and he loves it.”

“Like that one under the curtain?”

You whip around to see where’s he’s pointing.

“That’s it!” You crawl over to it and toss it in a bag with the rest of his food and toys. “Alright. I think I’m ready now.” Bucky returns just as the words leave your mouth.

“About damn time,” the brunet sighs. “I wanna go home.”

“I’m not the one who burst into your house at 5 am and told someone to pack for an unknown amount of time to go to some beach. Could be rainy. Could be hot. Could be cold. Who knows! I had to wash my clothes and my towels-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax,” Sam plays referee as usual, taking your bag and ushering everyone out the door. “You’re going to love this. Don’t waste your energy fighting him. That’s all he wants.”

You roll your eyes and glare at Bucky before pressing past him with Jethro on your shoulder.

You do have to admit: you miss this. Sam and Bucky checked in on you about once a month. But it was always a quick phone call to see if you needed anything or to make sure you got the money they sent you.

Steve did promise to take care of you. You didn’t know ‘taking care’ meant you were now making six figures for being a man’s wife.

This must be what the trad wives are aspiring to have. And you don’t even have to cook and clean to get it.

You finally get to fall back asleep on the plane, curled up on the seat as Jethro plays in the cabin. You aren’t sure what Bucky and Sam are up to and you honestly couldn’t care less. You were exhausted.

The plane eventually lands at a tiny airport somewhere in South America.

“You gotta take a boat from here, princess,” Bucky sighs after waking you up and you ask what’s going on.

“You can keep Jethro if you want or we can take him back to New York,” Sam offers.

“Wait. Are you two leaving me?” You ask.

“It’s a short ride. You’ll be fine. You’re a big girl,” Bucky smirks.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’ll keep my cat, thank you very much.”

“You sure? You might just want to relax,” Sam offers. You’ve never met two men who thought your cat was such a burden.

“No. What do you think he’s going to do? He’s a cat,” You laugh

“Just making sure,” Sam grins

“You two are being so weird.”

The two of them escort you and your luggage to a yacht docked at the ocean.

“Alright, princess. Be good. Have fun. Don’t do anything crazy,” Bucky bids giving you a half hug.

“Have fun. Enjoy the weather. It should be pretty mild this week,” Sam grins before pulling you into a bear hug.

“Too bad you two have to head back,” you sigh. “You could’ve told me to bring a friend.”

“Nah, this trip is all about peace and quiet.”

Peace and quiet, huh?

You’ve been running from that for two years. Peace and quiet only brought of thoughts of regret and longing and how much you missed him…

Yeah, you’ll definitely need Jethro.

You wave your goodbyes and find a spot on the upper deck to watch the waves.

Shit. You had no idea he would get seasick.

You eye his carrier dubiously before asking the captain, “How long is the ride?”

“About 20 minutes, ma’am.”

He can handle it for 20 minutes…

He could not handle 20 minutes. Suddenly this thrust upon you vacation can’t end fast enough.

Your head is splitting by the time you made dock. You rush after the captain to get on dry land. You don’t even notice the world around you as you rush inside.

“Okay, baby. Okay. Just give me a second.” You find the first room that seems to be closed off and release the poor cat just for him to throw up on the tile floor. “Oh, baby,” you coo and rub his back. Hopefully there are plenty of paper towels in this house. “Mommy’s sorry. Let it out.” He throws up again and starts to walk off. He must be done.

“Okay. Stay here. Don’t touch that. I’ll be right back.”

You leave the room, closing the door behind you. You find the paper towels and thank the captain for bringing in your luggage before tending to your cat and finally taking a chance to breathe.

He put your stuff in the master bedroom which gave you the chance to explore the house.

Wow!

It really is beautiful. This must be one of Steve’s millions of homes. Completely modern fixtures, an infinite pool that ended at the ocean. Not another soul for miles. And the land outside was a lush jungle. You expected a little monkey to pop out a tree at any moment.

Maybe Sam and Bucky were onto something when they sent you out here. Your creativity was waning lately. Your channel was suffering but you honestly just weren’t interested in anything. You kind of just wanted to live. It was nice that you didn’t have to rely on a pay check anymore and you could finally focus on what you wanted to do.

But you had not idea what you wanted to do…

You sigh as you finish unpacking and finally release your cat from confinement.

“You feeling better?” You ask him as he rubs against your legs. It was easier just to let him recoup in isolation than to have him throwing up all over the house.

“Are you hungry?” He chirps happily. You step into the fully stocked kitchen fill a bowl with his cat food before stipulating your own meal. They even got your favorite chips and sour candy! And Biscoff cookie butter! You snatch the tub and spoon and let out a content sigh before feeding your cat.

There’s a fresh platter of sushi and sesame chicken in refrigerator just waiting for you. You microwave the chicken and grab a glass of rosé and make your way out to the patio.

Your food is all set up but the view is calling to you. You can’t help but lean over the railing and watch the sunset over the ocean.

Jethro slinks through the open door and rubs against your leg before letting out a happy chirp.

“It’s beautiful, huh?” You ask the cat, bending down to scratch his head.

“I’ll never get over that view.”

You stiffen at that voice. You know that voice. It wasn’t Sam or Bucky or even Natasha or Scott.

This was a voice you hadn’t heard in over two years.

The tears start to prickle your eyes before you even look at him.

You turn slowly.

There he is. Leaning against the door frame, big arms crossed across his broad chest. His blond hair is perfectly done as it had always been. That thick beard was back in full force. His ocean eyes sparkle as he watches you, giving you a quick once over before a smirk graces his full lips.

“Ocean’s pretty nice, too.”

You rush into his arms. He lets out a soft oof as he catches you and you wrap your legs around his hips.

“Missed you so much, star,” Steve sighs into your hair.

“Missed you,” you mutter into his neck. The tears start to fall but you just cling to him even tighter.

Steve chuckles lightly and sits down on the bed. “I’m not going to disappear. Promise.”

“Don’t trust you,” you sniffle.

“I don’t blame you.” He holds you like that for a moment while you take him all in. His scent, his solid body under you, the feel of him.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal,” Steve mutters as he strokes your hair, gripping your twists lightly as his fingers tangle there.

“Oh!” You sit up to watch him. “Are you hungry? There was a bunch of food in the fridge so I figured it was for me.”

“You were going to eat my sushi?” Steve asked so seriously that you tense up.

“Was it yours?” You asks sheepishly.

“You think I would just order myself food and nothing for my wife?” He smirks.

Your shoulders relax and you let out a laugh. “I wonder about you a lot,” you counter.

“Such a fucking smart ass.” You can’t help but smile and tuck your face back into his neck. “Let’s go eat.”

You get him a plate and a glass of whiskey.

He immediately takes a sip and groans in pleasure. “That’s good,” he sighs.

“What was it like being locked up?” You asked sheepishly.

“Not terrible actually. I was on like the lightest level. I had my own apartment, a chef, a maid, a full gym. People came to visit all the time even though I asked them not to. It was like being at home but under constant surveillance. I even had a cell phone,” he chuckles.

You just watch him for a second processing what he said. It didn’t sound any different than regular life. Except for one thing.

“You never asked to see me?”

He lets out a heavy sigh before running his fingers through his hair. “Star, I missed you so much. Part of me was gone. But I know you and I knew you couldn’t be there.”

“What?” You bark.

“You never listen and you have to always ask a million questions. Especially after a direct order not to talk about something.”

“A direct order?”

“Star, I know you told your friends everything. I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

“I don’t owe you anything, Steve! I’m not one of your lackeys!”

“No, you’re not. But I’d rather not see you for two years than have conjugal visits for the rest of my life!” You blink at him at his out burst before averting your gaze.

“I just wish I knew what was going on,” you whisper, pushing your empty plate away.

He sighs again and stands up, taking the empty plates. “I’m going to work on it. I don't want anymore secrets between us.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He places a kiss on your forehead as he walks back inside the house. You let him handle it. He spent two years being catered to on the government’s dime. He can cater to you for an evening.

You cross your legs and pull out your phone. You feel extremely conflicted all of the sudden. You were so happy to have your husband. But all you can do is be upset with him…

You groan and scrub your eyes.

Steve returns about ten minutes later with his sleeves rolled up showing off his massive forearms and making your mouth water. You almost forget why you’re mad at him…

He holds out his hand for you. “Come on. Let’s go sit by the water.”

You ignore his hand and stand up to lead the way outside. You hear Steve sigh and he catches your hand, not letting you get too far without him.

“We’re on an island alone. No one’s going to attack me,” you bite, glaring at his hand.

“God forbid I missed my wife after two years,” Steve bites back.

“You could’ve had me whenever you wanted.”

“If I was in there for life, I could never get my vasectomy reversed! We could never have a kid! I’d be in maximum security and couldn’t see you as often as I want-“

“Why couldn’t you just trust me?” You turn on him.

“I’m sorry!” He shouts back. “Okay? I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I didn’t even give you the chance. I’m sorry I kept so much from you. I should have let you in. I just-I’m just-“ He lets out a frustrated growl before releasing your hand and stalking toward the water.

Shit.

He’s never done that before. Your calm, cool, collected husband seems to have finally snapped.

Maybe you should call Sam or Bucky…

No! This is your husband. You can handle this. You refill his glass and top off your wine and follow him out to the beach. You find him sitting in an Adirondack chair staring off into the horizon. You missed seeing him like this. His golden hair shines in the dimming light. His bright blue eyes glitter slightly.

You take a deep breath before stepping up to him.

“I’m sorry,” you offer handing him his drink. “I was kind of intense. You just got home and I’m stressing you out.”

He gives you a once over before accepting the drink and pulling you into his lap.

“Don’t apologize. I’m…broken. It’s not your fault.”

You sigh softly as you fall into lap. “You’re not broken. You’re just old and your back and knees hurt.” He lets out a soft chuckle at that. At least you can still make him laugh. “I told you before we got married that I want to be your peace. I want to be your confidant. You told me I had to earn that. I was so weak after the wedding. I made a mistake but I didn’t tell anyone else. They promised not to tell anyone else. I obeyed. I did as I was told for two years. I think I’ve earned something.”

“You have, star.” He takes a deep breath and a swig of his drink. “Alright. Where do I start?”

“The beginning,” you prompt and get comfortable.

“Okay. Well, Bucky was abducted by this guy name Johann. His street name is Red Skull. He runs this nazi gang called Hydra in Europe.”

“What?” You ask skeptically.

“Yeah. I know right? Racism does indeed still exist. Sam and I thought Buck was dead for years. Everyone said he was dead. We had a funeral and everything. Bucky was my yes man and I needed some kind of muscle. Sam tried to step in when he could but he’s such a pacifist. Always trying to help people. I needed someone that would fuck someone up, no questions asked. One day, along comes this guy named Rumlow.”

“He’s the one the FBI guy asked about?” Your eyes widened at the revolution and that you have some degree of knowledge about the characters in his story.

“The one and only,” Steve sighs bitterly. “Tony recommended him. Said he’s got nothing but love for the guy. He was trying to get out of California so he came to me. I put him through the ringer. Had him sell drugs to cops, smuggle stuff from overseas, print weapons. He did it all flawlessly. I don’t know, maybe a year goes by and I finally let him into the circle. All is going good until I hear about Tony and his big ugly tower in Manhattan.

“Tony and his family have always kept to the west coast. Fury ruled the East until I took over. This tower was like a war declaration and shit hit the fan. Alliances were tested. Rumlow didn’t make the cut,” He states simply.

“What happened?” You ask softly.

“I don’t tolerate double crossers. He had one foot in my camp, one foot in Tony’s, one in Hydra’s, and one in the feds.”

Shit! “He's a government nazi?”

“Was.”

“Shit,” you whisper out loud this time. This was legitimate gang stuff. No wonder this Rumlow guy it was so important.

“It brought about the rare occasion of Tony and I working together.”

“So, that’s why he came to the wedding?” Steve hums positively while running his fingers along the grain of the chair’s arm. “And you guys are a united force?”

“For now. It’s shaky.”

You take a deep breath. “Wow,” you sigh out.

“And you, my little star, happened to be filming your little video on my dock at the exact same moment I was taking care of mine and Tony’s ‘problem’.”

“What was even on my video because I didn’t hear anything?”

This was it. Your chance to finally get an answer to this three year dilemma.

“Tony’s yacht, Rumlow’s car, the address which was mine. All in one place after Rumlow was last seen at his New York office.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Steve smirks.

“And all this time I thought you were over reacting.” Steve lifts his brows in silent disagreement. “Okay. From this point, no more secrets?”

“No more secrets,” Steve agrees. He tucks a finger under your chin directing your gaze to his. “That means you, too. Sam said you’ve been playing fast and loose with my black card.”

Your face heats.

“I didn’t think you’d find out about that,” you whisper.

“You didn’t think I’d wonder where a million dollars went?”

“No! No! Sam told me to help out with the philanthropy thing so I did!”

“And I want to hear it from you,” he smirks.

“Okay, well,” you start defensively, crossing your arms over your chest. “I donated a wing at UCLA for Kahhori’s Choctaw program. And I donated to Marvel’s women of color program so Kamala can write her own story. And I made a scholarship program for Kate’s archery school so 100 students can go tuition free.”

“Very nice, star,” Steve smiles. “But there’s about $10 grand unaccounted for.”

“What?” You whisper.

His ocean eyes narrow. “On February 10, to a Dr. Steven Strange in Beverly Hills?”

“Oh, that,” you laugh nervously. “Um, I honestly didn’t think you would notice that.” Especially because it came out of your bank account…

“Well, I did. Talk.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “I got a breast augmentation.”

“A breast augmentation?” He repeats as formally as you said it making you smile. His fingers strum along your hip comfortably.

“Yes. A breast augmentation.”

“Do I get to see them?”

“I mean, you technically paid for them,” you concede.

“It’s still your body.”

“I want you to see them,” you whisper.

“Oh, you want me to see them?” He grins, gripping your hips with both hands so you’re straddling his waist. You smile, biting your bottom lip and nod.

You squirm in his lap for a moment before removing your shirt. You didn’t know your husband would be seeing them or you would’ve worn a nicer bra. But you glance down at your new Ds in your simple t-shirt bra before looking back up at him.

His eyes are focused solely on your chest as his pupils dilate slightly.

“I wish I wore something more lacy for you,” you lament.

He glances up at your face before his eyes flick back down.

His silence is a little unnerving.

“Do you like them?”

“Can I take your bra off?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.” His hands slide up your waist to your back.

“You guess? Give me an answer, star.”

“Yes, you can take off my bra,” you giggle.

He hums positively and uses one hand to unhook the bit of cloth. They fall naturally with out the support to perky mounds.

“Can I touch?”

“You are being so respectful,” you laugh.

“I’m not a monster. Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I own you.”

“Steve, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“Oh, don’t say that, star. I’ll actually listen.” His hands finally cup your breasts and his thumbs brush over your nipples.

You shudder slightly in his grip. “Sensitive?” You nod, biting your bottom lip and gripping his shoulders.

“Do you like them?” You ask. There’s a slight whine in your voice that you can’t stop after having your husband’s hands back on you after so long.

“Give me a chance to give ‘em a test drive. So impatient.” He squeezes them tentatively then presses them together. “They feel great,” he states like he has something more to say but is holding back.

“But?”

He gives you a look that tells you he’s about to hurt your feelings.

“But,” he takes a sharp inhale and you steel yourself for the blow. “I think you could’ve gone a little bigger.” You smack his hands away at that and he lets out an amused chuckle as you cover yourself.

“They’re great for playing with but how can you wrap them around my dick?”

“They were never meant to be wrapped around any dicks!” You protest. “Especially not yours!”

He continues to laugh and his hands fall back to your hips. “There’s my girl. I was afraid you lost your edge without me around to push your buttons.”

“It’s still present and accounted for,” you huff.

“Don’t play mad,” he smirks, tucking a finger under your chin.

“I’m not playing.”

“They’re perfect. They look beautiful on you. You look beautiful no matter what, but you know that.”

You continue to pout.

“Hey,” he directs your attention to him, gripping your chin so you’ll comply. “You know you’re my beautiful star, right?”

You watch him for a moment before finally nodding in defeat. He hums positively. “Im glad they gave you the confidence boost you were looking for.”

“I love them,” you finally smile.

“I love that you love them.” He pulls you to his lips for a gentle kiss that quickly turns deeper.

“Are we done talking?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down your hips.

“No! We’re actually married now. We have a whole relationship to flesh out.”

Steve smiles softly. “That can wait. I need my wife now.”

His fingers tuck into your shorts and you quickly stop him. “Hold on! I’ve been traveling all day. Can I take a shower first?”

Steve smiles softly. “On one condition: I can join you?” You grin and nod.

The two of you clean up the remnants of your meal and you finish unpacking, filling the master bathroom with your toiletries.

Right next to his.

This felt like a big step. You could poke though his lotions, what kind of toothpaste he uses, his face wash and body wash. He seemed like a simple man based on his toiletries. Dove combination body wash, shampoo, and conditioner, Cetaphil face wash, Vaseline lotion. Oh? He uses Sauvage? No wonder he smelt so good.

You inhale the bottle’s spritzer and Steve walks in catching you red handed.

“You like it?” He asks with a lifted brow.

“Yeah,” you laugh sheepishly.

“Good. I like yours too.” You giggle and he steps next to you to pick up your perfume bottle. “I tried the cologne version of this a while back. I don’t think it mixed with my chemistry.”

“I can’t imagine anything smelling bad on you.”

He presses a kiss to you forehead. You both place the bottles down back next to each other. “I better warm up the water for you.”

“Thank you,” you sigh.

You toy with the hem of your shirt. He just saw you topless. This should be easy…

He unbuttons his shirt and tosses it in a clothes hamper. His undershirt and pants quickly follow. He gives you a once over while you toy with your clothes and he lets out a soft sigh.

“Do we have to start all over again from step one?” He smiles.

He steps up to you and lifts your shirt over your head. You left your bra in the bedroom. He works on your shorts next, pressing them down your hips and leaving you naked for him.

“Beautiful,” he smiles after giving you a once over. He presses his boxers down and tosses them toward the hamper.

He’s one to talk. You forgot how beautiful he is.

You share a tame shower then lotion and dry off. You watch Steve while you both brush your teeth and figure out how to phrase your request.

“I have to change. Do you mind waiting in the bedroom?”

“Change? Into what? I’m just going to take it off,” he chuckles after spitting out his toothpaste into the sink.

“I just have to…change,” you draw out the word. You know it doesn’t make sense but you wish he’d just listen to you.

He watches you for a moment before shrugging. “Fine. Change.” You smile up at him as he leaves the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

You may not have worn anything cute enough that you deemed worthy for him to see.

But you brought something.

Now you just have to remember how these straps work…

You step back in the bedroom and find Steve lounging on the bed with his towel still wrapped around his waist. Jethro is playing with one of your scrunchies that Steve is whipping around the bed for him to chase.

Oh! He’s a good cat dad, too.

You smile while watching him for a moment until he looks up.

His eyes widen and he gives you a once over. He looks down at Jethro as he steals the scrunchie right out of his hand before diverting his gaze back to you.

“Okay little man. You gotta go play with that in the living room.” He scoops of the cat with the scrunchie still in his mouth and pulls himself from the bed. “I have some business to take care of with your mom.”

“Can you make sure all the windows are closed?” You request as he totes the cat away.

“Yes, ma’am!” He calls.

You slide into his space on the bed and pull your phone to you.

This deserves at least a selfie. But just for you.

“Losing my virginity realness” you type over the image.

“Is there a photo shoot going on in here,” Steve asks, reentering the room.

“Just commemorating the moment.”

“It only took us two years,” Steve chuckles sliding into the bed next to you. He poses for your photo and presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Alright. Hand it over.” He holds out his hand for the phone. “No more distractions.” You hand it to him. “Next time, we’ll make a video. But this time, it’s all about you.” You giggle and accept his kiss.

He cages you in his arms as he leans over you. He presses a kiss to your lips before pulling away slightly. You stare into his eyes while he watches you. You never noticed there’s a little green around their rims. They’re so pretty.

“I’m gonna take my time with you. Tell me if something hurts or doesn’t feel good. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper.

Steve’s gaze flicks down to your chest. His fingers slip under the strap covering your nipples to pull it away. “This is so not like you, star,” he mutters looking over the leather covering your body.

“Bucky picked it out,” you admit.

“Remind me to thank him. Get him a new car or his own plane.”

“You like it?”

“I fucking love it.” He presses himself down your body, kissing your chest and your navel before ending just above your pussy.

He pulls the leather aside and he licks a strip up your slit.

“Fuck, I missed how good you taste,” he groans. His hand slides under the leather to get it out of his way as he starts to devour you. You forgot how good he was at this. A whine almost immediately escapes you.

“Steve,” you whimper. Your hips roll, grinding them into his face just to feel him a little deeper.

“What’s wrong, star?” Steve asks between licks. “You need someone to scratch that itch? You need to cum?”

“Y-yeah. Please, Steve,” you cry.

“Don’t worry. ‘M gonna take care of you.”

You bite your lips and throw your head back against the pillows. You legs writhe to clamp together but his large body is in the way.

He tucks a familiar finger in your core and he finds that spot inside you almost immediately. You cry out his name and squirm harder.

“Keep making those noises. I fucking love ‘em,” Steve hums and pulls you clit between your lips.

It’s too much! He’s so good and he knows you so well. You don’t even stand a chance.

It doesn’t take much more to have you spilling into his mouth. You forgot how amazing it felt to come on his lips. It can’t compare to any of your toys.

“So good for me,” Steve praises into your stomach and kisses just above your core. You squirm against the bed while you catch your breath and come down from your high.

You blink your eyes open to him lazily stroking himself between your legs. You glance down at his thick cock before meeting his gaze again.

“You gonna stop acting shy?” Steve asks.

“Maybe,” you joke with a tired smile. He chuckles and tugs lightly at the buckles holding your lingerie together. It loosens and falls away into a heap under you.

Steve reaches over to the bedside table a pulls out a small bottle.

“What’s that?”

“Lube. I got you nice and wet but I don’t want to force it.” You nod. He really does want to make sure it all feels good. He slides the lube up and down his cock before he rests his hands on your spread knees. “Remember what I told you?”

“To tell you if it hurts.”

“Good girl.”

He presses his cock against your folds and finds your entrance easily. Almost instantly you feel like this is not supposed to be inside you.

You whine and clench up on him, pulling your knees to your chest.

“Hey, don’t do that. Relax.”

You bite your lower lip and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. It just feels like a lot of pressure. Like I’m putting in a tampon. A really big tampon.”

“Wow. That’s exactly what I want to be compared to: a big tampon.”

You giggle. “I’m sorry! I don’t know how else to say it.”

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. “Just try to stay relaxed.” You take a deep breath and he presses further into you. There’s more pressure but it doesn’t exactly hurt.

You wince as he hits a certain point. “Okay, maybe more like a Pap smear,” you cringe slightly.

“Star! That’s way worse than a tampon,” Steve groans.

“What do you know about a Pap smear?”

“I was married before you, remember?” He chuckles.

“Okay, well, why don’t I stick a speculum in your asshole and take some swabs so you’ll really know?” You grin

“I’ve had my prostate exam, thank you.”

“You’re that old?” You gasp.

“That’s it.” He thrusts into you to the hilt. You take in a sharp inhale and stare up at him.

You open your mouth and only a small squeak escapes.

He smirks. “That shut you up.”

“I can’t stand you,” you grit through your teeth.

“And I love you.” He presses a kiss to your lips and flips you on top of him. “Now relax for a minute.”

“Like this?” You cry, pointing to where you’re connected.

“Yes, like this,” he sighs and rests his hands at the small of your back. “We’ll continue when it stops feeling like a Pap smear.”

You roll your eyes at him and and fold your arms over his chest to rest your chin on.

“You still love me? Even with all the shit I put you through?”

“I never stopped, star. Even when you get on my very last nerve.”

You smile softly. “You’re just ‘ight”

“‘Ight?”

“Yeah. You’re cool and all but you can be kinda an asshole. But you’re my asshole.”

“Should I tell my doctor you’ll be performing my prostate exams from now on?”

You hum positively. “They have my permission to continue keeping you healthy. I need you around for as long as I can keep you.”

“As my wife, you stand to gain a lot if I die.”

“I’d loose too much.” Your fingers graze across his bare chest. Your hips shift and you gasp at the feeling of your clit rubbing against his pelvis.

“Something you like, star?” Steve groans, adjusting his own hips to chase after yours. You let out a soft whine and suddenly he feels so good resting inside you.

“Still feel like a Pap smear?”

You shake your head and whisper a “no”.

“Good,” he grins. He turns you both back over and cages your head with his hands. You instinctively hook your ankles behind his back. “Tell me if I’m too rough.” You nod.

He drags his heavy member out of you, making you gasp out, right before he presses right back into you.

You mewl softly as you arch your back. Then he does it again and again.

“Fuck, star,” Steve groans. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His lips attach to your exposed neck and he sucks and nips your sensitive skin, traveling along the column of your neck.

“Steve,” you whine.

“Yes, star?” He breathes against you skin. “What’s wrong? Tell me how I can fix it.” You can only cry out his name again. “Do you like it?”

“Uh huh!”

“I knew you’d like it,” Steve chuckles softly.

“W-why did we wait so looonghhh?” You moan.

He pauses and stares down at you.

“Why did we wait, Mrs. We Have to Get Married First?”

You heave a deep breath. You wanted to make this one count. “It’s Mrs. Rogers, actually.”

He lifts a brow and pulls completely out of you. “So fucking annoying. Get on all fours.”

“But you still love me, right?” You ask coyly while you turn over.

“I’m going to love fucking the shit out of you,” he chuckles darkly.

“What happened to being gentle?”

He grips your hips and pulls them back to meet his. His big hand presses your upper body down into the pillows.

“You’ve obviously gotten too comfortable.” His thumbs spread your pussy open so delicately, you wonder if he was lying about getting rough. Then he presses into you in one quick thrust leaving you whining into the expensive cotton bedding. “You need more.” He thrusts into you at a high angle, seemingly looking for something inside of you.

“Huh uh uh uh,” you huff at every beat and quickly understanding what it means to be fucked into a bed as you knees start to give out from his weight.

Then you know exactly what he’s after. He presses into that soft spongy part of your core and you let out a muffled scream.

“Ahhaaahaa!” You cry while still trying to breathe.

Did you…

You think he just…

And he did it so easily!

“Star, you came all over my bed.” He spanks your ass cheek softly. “Making a fucking mess.”

He sounds anything but disappointed in you. Proud, even.

“I-it’s your fault!” You cry into the bedding.

“What was that?” Steve grunts and lifts you by you hair so your back meets his chest.

You whimper at suddenly being manhandled and gasp at the fresh air.

You fucking love it.

“I said,” you breathe, “it’s your fault.”

“Damn right, it’s my fault.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as his big hand slides from your belly to your chest to cup your breast. “And I’ll do it again in a heartbeat.”

The hand in your hair finds your chin and he pulls you into a deep kiss.

Fuck. He’s good.

At this angle, he feels like he’s getting so deep and he’s hitting that perfect spot over and over. You moan into his mouth and your hand finds his arm against your chest. Your fingers thread between his and he pulls both your hands away to kiss the back of yours.

“Love you, star,” he mutters.

“Suddenly being gentle again?” You question.

“Just wanna make sure I don’t send you running.”

You look back at him. “I won’t run.”

His eyes roam up your body to your face.

“I trust you.”

He presses another kiss to your lips.

“Good. Trust me.” He thrusts into you again leaving you crying. Your head falls back against his shoulder while he holds you in place.

“Fuuuuck!” You cry to the ceiling. You can’t count how many times he’s tossed you over the edge but he just keeps catching you.

“God, you feel so good. Fucking made for me,” Steve grunts in your ear. You can barely hang on while he fucks you senseless. Your breaths come out in quiet cries. You’ve never felt like this. Like you were so completely understood. He knows what makes your body tick. He remembers even after two years; how you like to be touch, how to hold you just right, exactly what to whisper in your ear to make you go crazy for him.

Like he was made for you. Maybe you were made for each other.

“I’m close, star. You want me to pump a baby into you?” You were not in the mental place to have this conversation. You never wanted him out of you. He could stay firmly rooted in you pussy for the rest of time.

“Inside! Please, Steve!” You cry.

“Inside it is, star.”

He presses your upper body back down into the pillows and doubles his efforts.

“Oh, God! Fuck!” You scream but it’s muffled. The sound of slapping skin and Steve’s grunts fill the room but you can barely hear any of it over your own moans.

Stars fill the darkness behind your eyelids as he brings you to one last orgasm. Steve lets out a satisfied groan and a warmth spreads through your belly. You whine as you come down, pressing back against his hips to ride out the last of your ecstasy.

“Fuck,” Steve grunts as he empties himself in to you. He rests his chest against your back and attempts to catch his breath. “Shit. Star, you okay?”

You take a few deep breaths, still coming down from your high. “I’m perfect,” you sigh.

He pulls your hair away from your face and kisses your cheek.

He pulls you into his arms and rolls you both on your sides. You heave a heavy breath as he softens inside of you.

“So?” Steve asks, running his hand across your stomach.

“So what?” You exhale. “You want me to tell you you give great dick or something?”

He just chuckles softly behind you. “You’re going to be a pain in my ass for the rest of my life.”

“Damn right,” you giggle.

He presses you down on your back so he can watch you. “I can’t wait to deal with you for the rest of forever.”

“Do you use that line on all the girls?”

“Just the ones I marry.”

“So, two out of three?”

“You don’t know how many women I’ve been with,” he scoffs.

You give him a dubious look. “Okay, Mr. Rogers. How many?”

“Four.”

“Oh, I was way off then!” You laugh then gasp as you feel everything leaking out of you.

“Oh, shit! Let me get you a towel! Stay still.” Steve rolls from the bed and into the bathroom. You attempt to clinch to keep it all in but it’s such a strange feeling. Steve returns quickly with a warm, wet towel.

“Alright, relax. There you go. Better?” You nod and he gives you one last wipe before tossing the towel in the corner. He leaves the room again and returns with two water bottles and Jethro meowing happily on his heels. The cat jumps on the bed and immediately sniffs at a wet spot.

“Oh my God, Jethro! Stop,” you whine, directing the cat in a different area. Steve chuckles and pulls the comforter from the bed to toss next to the soiled towel.

“Someone will clean it up in the morning,” Steve advises.

“Thank you,” you smile and finally accept a bottle.

“Drink up. You lost a lot of fluids.”

“Oh my gosh! No you too!” you giggle as your face heats even more. “Was it that much?”

He hums positively while sucking down half of his bottle. “And you looked so fucking beautiful doing it, too.”

You smile. “Not as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, now you’re lying to me?” He laughs and tosses the throw pillows across the room and pulls back the sheets.

You snuggle next to Steve and he pulls you into a gentle kiss before lying back on the pillows.

You rest your head against his shoulder and your hand find his on his stomach. Jethro finally settles down next to you and starts cleaning himself.

You smile and lift your conjoined hands and press a kiss to the back of his. “I love you, too,” you whisper.

The two of you lie in silence and you’re pretty sure Steve is half asleep when you speak. “Hey, can we do it again?”

Steve laughs softly. “I knew I gave good dick.” You giggle and press a kiss to his cheek. “Give me thirty minutes, star.”

Fin

Chapter 5 | Master List

[ncis-yp]

ahhh i need more sugar daddy!gibbs im craving it please 🙏🙏🙏 also i love your work sm ❤️❤️

Italy, France, I see Jethros Underpants (Sugar Daddy! Gibbs x Reader) [FLUFF]

“Enough DiNozzo” you heard Jethro say as he walked into your apartment.

“Look at you, walking in here, acting like you own the place” you smirk. Jethro approaches you and kisses you before saying,

“Uh yeah. I do own the place” you giggle. “I bought it” he grabs your chin.

“And I will not forget it.” You smile. You look back into his blue eyes. Your chemistry homework sitting in front of you. You had a calculus exam on Monday and an English paper due the next day. Swamped with work to earn your degree that Jethro had paid for.

“I’m hungry” he says, walking to the fridge. Upon opening it he sees it nearly empty… again. “(Y/n) we talked about this, the $1500 allowance every week is supposed to be spend on food for the house.”

“Well… I did use it on food… just not for the house”

“Eating out?” You nodded. “Come on, pack an overnight bag”

“Where are we going?” You say standing.

“I was thinking I fly us out to Italy for the weekend… I‘ve been craving Italian”

“But Jet-“

“Yeah yeah, I know ‘Ms. 4.0 GPA’ you have assignments due. It’s a private plane… you can do your work on the plane” he replies reading your mind. You stand with your mouth agape. “Now, come on, pack the overnight bag and let’s go… garlic rolls do not last forever y’know”

You rush to your bedroom to pack up some clothes you have. Jethro gives you $2000 every 2 weeks to spend in clothes. You’d like to admit you were somewhat living a rags to riches life… from a shitty apartment, no car, and barely anything to eat or wear, you have this amazing lifestyle and get to go to Europe on a whim. All you needed to do was be loyal, spend his money, and keep up your grades… and maybe a little something else. Anything you wanted and needed was in the palm of your hand. Though, you were in love with Jethro.

You had knocked out in Jethros arms during the plane ride. He smiled at you softly as you turned in his arms… your (h/c) locks twisting around you messily as you did so.

Time skip~

You were leaning over the railing of your hotel at 3 AM. The lively party downstairs faintly reminding of your life before Jethro. You felt his arms wrap around you. His scent suddenly surrounding you.

“Why are you still awake?” He whispers in your ear. You leaned your head back against his body.

“Can’t sleep. Guess I’m not tired enough” you reply back quietly.

“Funny, neither can I” he mumbled back, kissing your temples. “Felt you leave the bed and couldn’t fall asleep”

“Aww” you sigh as you against him. Staring up the city., remembering that you were in Italy.

“Come back to bed?” Was a question and a statement from him. You nodded as he pulled you to hotel bed.

As you laid, pressed against his chest you sighed. Your thoughts still swirling.

“What’s on your mind? Wanna go to France? Don’t like Italy?”

“No, I love Italy. I’m just thinking”

“About?” He pressed.

“I just… I been thinking Jet and you know- I love you… I know that we have an arrangement but I don’t know I just-“

“I love you too (y/n)” he cut you off.

“Y-you do?”

“Mhmm” he hummed hugging you tighter. You smile as he holds you close to him, curling in his arms tighter.

“You love me” you say happily. Jethro smiled, kissing the top of your head.