#sam x callen

[leotanaka]

LL Cool J as Sam Hanna & Chris O’Donnell as G Callen NCIS: LOS ANGELES (2009 - 2023) Season 14, Episode 16: Sleeping Dogs

[thjslove]

I love you, man. [...] I love you, too.

[romancemedia]

Marty Deeks Introduction on NCIS: Los Angeles Part 1

[chiefdirector]

NCIS: LA REQUESTS

I have just started watching NCIS: LA. I am opening requests for:

Sam Hanna

G Callen

Kensi Byle,

And Marty Deeks

I’ll be adding more characters as I go so please please please send requests. I’m loving this show so far!

[grande-caps]

NCIS Los Angeles 14.21 - “New Beginnings, Part Two”

Quality : HD screencaptures Amount : 1.071 files Resolution : 1.920 x 1.080 px

-Please like/reblog if taking!

[dragcnbreak]

made a gay thing to distract myself from ncis la officially ending filming 😭

[bullet-prooflove]

Covert Affairs: Vostanik Sabatino x Reader (feat: G. Callen)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds @thiashazzywriting @whateversomethingbruh

You’ve been with Sabatino almost two years when your relationship gets thrust into the spotlight. It’s a litany of stolen moments whenever he arrives back in LA. Whirlwind dinner dates and nights spent ruining you in the sheets of his hotel room. You hit your favourite brunch spots, ranking them with detailed notes you keep on your phone for the next time he’s in town. He gives you a tour of Hollywood, the places he used to haunt back in the day when he was playing with his band. You catch a couple of shows over pitchers of beer in a dive bar or two.

“Do you ever think about doing it again?” You ask him as you watch the band from a spot near the bar. Your back comes to rest against his chest, his arm looped around your waist, holding you close.

“Maybe one day, when I finally put down some roots.” He murmurs into your ear as he nuzzles the curve of your throat. “I miss making music.”

He fucks you in the bathroom of the bar, the pulse of the music vibrating through the walls as he goes down on you to a God-awful rendition of ‘Killer Queen’. Whenever you hear that song in the aftermath, you think of that night. His mouth on you, tongue thrust deep inside when you come for him just as Freddy hits the high note.

Sam’s away in Somalia when Nell and Eric identify a problem. Someone has been downloading classified data from the NCIS server and selling it on the black market. An investigation is opened into everyone who was working at a computer terminal during the download, and you happen to be one of them. You’d stayed late to catch up on the after-action reports after losing a bet to Callen at the shooting rage.

It’s ridiculous that a tickle in your nose just as you’re about to pull the trigger is the reason your whole life blows up.

Part of the investigation includes cloning the personal phones of the people under suspicion so they can deep dive into their lives. You make it relatively easy, leaving yours in the top drawer of your desk when you hit the gym with Kensi. Nobody really believes it’s you, you’ve been with them six years. You’ve shed blood, cried tears, saved their lives, fought their battles. For Nell and Eric, it’s simply a process of elimination, that is until they find a wealth of incriminating data.

Calls from multiple international sources they can’t verify.

An encrypted message app, hidden under the calculator icon.

A secret cache of files that are password protected.

It’s all high-level security, something you don’t need on your personal device, almost NSA level shit. Even with their tech savvy it would take hours to break into the phone and they don’t have that kind of time because you’ve just received a text from a burner cell telling you to meet at The Majestic Hotel, Room 216, later this evening.

You must be meeting the buyer.

They can’t take the risk of that information falling into the wrong hands, so it becomes an op with you as the target. It’s hastily put together, there’s no time to run prior surveillance because it’s going down just as they pull up to the hotel. They catch a glimpse of you stepping into the room before the door closes quietly behind you.

Callen, Deeks and Kensi take up residence just outside the door, allowing a few minutes for the exchange to take place before they use the keycard to gain entry.

When they burst into the room guns drawn, it’s not what anyone expected.

The first thing they see is Sabatino. He’s in a state of undress. His white button up shirt hangs open, revealing his bare chest including that messy scar etched into his flesh. There’s lipstick marks trailing down the hollow of his throat, staining his skin. It’s fire engine red, the shade you were wearing. He holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender, his body shielding you from what he perceives to be a threat.

For Callen it's an echo back to that day in Afghanistan, the one when Sabatino put himself between you and the bullet that would have ended your life.

When you step out from behind him, you’re in a similar state of disarray. Your lipstick is smeared across your mouth, your hands tugging the fabric of the black wrap dress around your body covering up the lingerie that you’re wearing.

You’re both arrested and taken to separate interrogation rooms in the Boatshed. You’re silent in the face of the accusation but Sabatino, he will not stop talking. He’s pissed on your behalf, that your team won’t give you the benefit of the doubt, that you’re being treated like a criminal. Him, he’s used to this shit, but you deserve better.

You don’t blame them for suspecting you, you know how it looks. You’d be doing the same thing in their shoes; in fact, you have.

They sweat you for a while, leave you spinning your wheels. It’s standard procedure in a case like this, let the suspect get in their own head, make them eager to talk. You know what’ll happen in that time, they’ll find evidence of your relationship with Sabatino. It’s not that that bothers you, it’s the intimate items you’d brought with you to the hotel room sitting in your overnight bag. The one that someone is now going to have to search through. It’s humiliating.

It's Callen that comes to interrogate you, you didn’t expect anything different, he is your superior after all. You know that your conversation is about to get a lot more personal because Callen has to consider the possibility that Sabatino’s been using you for intel, he wouldn’t be doing his due diligence if he didn’t.

“Your relationship with Sabatino, take me through it.”

So, you do, from that first kiss in the car to the last time he was in town. As you detail your relationship, things start to make sense to Callen, pieces he hasn’t put together until now. Sabatino’s reaction back in Afghanistan when you were taken, the fact he’d undertaken the prisoner walk instead of a member of your team. He had known that bullet was coming, that the Taliban couldn’t afford to let you go. He’d been prepared to die for you that day.

Callen thinks about earlier in the hotel room, Sabatino’s first instinct had been to get between you and whatever was coming through that door. He understands that urge, it’s reactive and primal, like a wolf protecting his mate.

There’s other things he’s noticed. Sabatino’s smile when you’re around, it brighter, more genuine. The look he gives you, there’s always a warmth in it despite the fact he’s being a smartass. The last time they’d arrested him, he’d been reserved but this time he’s irate and Callen knows that it comes from a place of love. That he’s infuriated on your behalf.

At the end of your story, you give him the passwords for your phone. Everything you need to prove the existence of your relationship resides on that device.

“See for yourself.” You tell him and he does.

Those files you’d encrypted?

Selfies.

The two of you eating ice cream on the boulevard, the sun setting in the background. Sabatino kissing your cheek as you smile into the camera at a bar in Hollywood. Him playing a guitar on the couch in your living room, a book of chords laid out in front of him. There’s more of them, documenting your relationship over the past two years. For anyone else these would be normal Instagram images but for someone who’s a covert agent they’re a death sentence.

The hidden chat app?

It’s full of voice notes filled with private, intimate things that no one else should ever be privy to.

When I look up at the sky tonight it reminds me of Afghanistan, the first night I spent with you.

You looked too beautiful to wake up this morning, I’m sorry I had to leave.

The sun’s just rising here, and all I can think about is how I wish I was waking up next to you.

The international calls?

Callen realises it’s Sabatino checking in, letting you know he’s still alive.

By all accounts he’s looking at a couple in love, one that’s been forced to keep their relationship a secret due the nature of Sabatino’s career. Callen’s worked for the CIA; he knows the risks. He also knows that this man would set the entire world on fire if anything happened to you.

“Come for a drink tonight.” Callen suggests when it’s all said and done. “I wanna get to know Sabatino a little better, you know, just in case he ends up joining the family.”

You roll your eyes as you stand in the main room of the Boatshed, gathering the few personal items that had been transported with you.

“Our very fucked up little family.” You retort.

“Neither less he’s important to you, so he’s important to us too.” Callen tells you.

You can hear the sincerity in voice. Callen doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean, not to you. You’ve been lied to too many times in the past before you’d transferred to LA. Your old partner back San Diego had been corrupt, it had been a severe blow to your psyche. You’d been transferred to LA because you were deemed a problem child. Callen got that, he’d understood it. He’d made you a deal.

“If you’re upfront with me, I’ll be upfront with you, it’s a two-way street.”  

That’s the way the two of you operated and it had worked consistently over the past six years.

“Even after all of this.” You say gesturing at the monitors that oversee the interrogation rooms.

You’re talking about the fact that you’ve spent two years hiding your life with a man, he has a kinda love/hate relationship with. Out of everyone you work with Callen has the most trust issues, this should be a problem for him, but the thing is, it’s not. He understands it on both levels. You’re protecting the man you love, and Sabatino, he’s protecting you too.

“Especially after all of this.” He says firmly before he places his palms on the surface of the wooden table and tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Look I’m not going to pretend I understand what you see in the guy, but he cares about you, hell he almost died for you, and I can’t fault him for that. Trust me I want to, but I can’t.”

There’s an edge of humour to his voice because his interactions with Sabatino have always fluctuated between irritation and respect. The man is an excellent operative, and the problem is he knows it. You find yourself smiling despite yourself, your fingertips tapping lightly on the table.

“Alright.” You agree because this how you step into the light, how the two of you move forward into the future. “But the drinks are on you guys tonight.”

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[twins-write]

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[stanathanxoox]

You Love Me Too?

gif not mine

@matchesarelit asked:

Hello!!

I was wondering if I could request a friends to lovers Nate Getz (NCIS la) X reader

No issue if not , love your fics xx

You’re walking through the doors into the special projects office for the first time in over eight months, being requested for an undercover job by SecNav had meant that you had had to leave without saying goodbye to any of your team mates, let alone your best friend Operational Psycologist Nate Getz. Hetty had been the only one privy to the knowledge of you leaving and now that your undercover operation had been completed you were finally back in LA and back to work. It felt nice being back in the office. You can hear the bickering coming from your team mates before your even through the end of the corridor and you can’t help the wide grin from spreading across your cheeks as you continue to move. Pausing at the dividers to the room you smile over at Hetty who gives you a slight head and smile before she returns to her work. You look at the others and smile, Callen, Sam, Kensi, Deeks and Nate are all sitting behind their desks just like they had been the last time they had been when you had seen them. You can hear a shuffle of feet rushing down the stairs and you whip around and turn to see Eric and Nell and smile at them

“Y/N? Is that you?” Eric asks as he pauses at the bottom of the stairs, whilst Nell doesn’t pause, she rushes over to you and runs straight into your arms and you hold her close

“It’s really me. Hi guys” you say giving Nell a small reassuring squeeze before you turn to the others, smiling at each of them in turn before your eyes land on the one person you had missed the most.

“It’s so good to see you again Y/N” Sam says as he makes his way over to you and pats you on the head. You smile at the man

“It’s good to be back, I’ve missed the LA sun” you say and he chuckles

“Oh God it must’ve been bad if you missed the LA sun, given you were complaining about it just days before you left” he teases and you chuckle. The others make their way over to you, each giving you a hug. All except Nate who in the greetings and catch up had managed to escape through the crowd and out the side of the building. You excuse yourself from the others wanting to follow him and see how he’s doing.

You find Nate sitting in front of the water fountain at the back of the building and you make your way over to him, sitting next to him.

“I missed you Nate” you whisper after what feels like a chocking silence between the two of you.

“I missed you too Y/N, so much. There wasn’t a day that went by where I wasn’t worried about you and your safety. Worried about if the love of my life was going to make it back to us. You have no idea how many times I would go to Hetty and beg her for an ounce of information she had on your case just so that I would know if you were safe and sound. I needed to know that you were safe” he says. As each word escapes your best friends mouth your more shocked by what he has said because he had said the L word, the one word that you had always been too terrified to say to the man that you had been in love with for the last four years.

“You love me?” you whisper looking down at your hands before you feel Nate gently cupping your face in his hands as he tilts your face to look at his own

“Of course I do Y/N, I love you more than life itself. You are my everything, my whole existance and I missed you dearly when you were gone” he tells you. You can see the truth hidden in his eyes and you smile, leaning forward you whisper

“I love you too Nate, I’ve been in love with you for years I was just too scared that it would ruin our friendship” you say and he shakes his head

“It doesn’t have to Y/N, it can make our friendship, our love better” he says and you smile before leaning forward and capturing his lips in the first of many kisses.

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Tag List for NCIS LA: @caswinchester2000, @sam-hanna-stan

[le-amewzing]

Feral

More than a decade of being an LA fan, and that big xover event finally convinces me to write LA fic. ;P *Note: This is set after s14e10, "A Long Time Coming."

Fic: "Feral" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Devin Rountree & Fatima Namazi (platonic but okay to tag as Fountree!), Marty Deeks/Kensi Blye

Rating: K+

Words: ~2,330

Additional info: friendship, hurt/comfort, light angst?, fluff, 3rd person POV

Summary: Rountree saw a different kind of action as a result of the Williams investigation. But now it's time to put the case behind him and recuperate…even if he is curious about what his team got up to…

      Being held hostage had never been something on Devin Rountree's bucket list. But it was something he now mentally added and immediately crossed off while he waited for the nurses at the hospital to come back with an update.

      His phone buzzed in his pocket as he sat with his legs hanging over the edge of his hospital bed, and he didn't wonder for a second who it could be, considering how shaken Fatima had been when the team located him at Miller's hideout earlier today. That was why he blinked in surprise when Deeks' name appeared onscreen. He winced in pain as he glanced around to check if he might disturb anyone around him by swiping right.

      "There he is!" Deeks chirped from the passenger seat in Kensi's SUV. The blond angled the phone so Rountree had both of them in view. "Hey, Rountree, that ice helping?"

      Rountree chuckled and grinned automatically—and hissed, too. It'd been hours, but it still hurt to smile. "Not much," he admitted, lowering the disposable icepack from his face.

      "Well, keep it on—even if it doesn't feel like it, ice works," Kensi instructed in that sisterly tone of hers. She let her eyes drift from the road to Deeks' phone for a split-second, to emphasize her words.

      "Will do," Rountree promised, though he returned the pack to just below his bottom lip so he could chat with them for a bit. "You guys heading home?"

      "Yep," Deeks replied. "Parker and Torres had a flight to catch back east, and Tennant and Tara lingered a bit longer. I think Tennant wasn't ready to cast her Agent Afloat back to sea quite yet." He motioned to Rountree with a jerk of his chin. "But we cleared out all the guests before locking up for the day, so no worries."

      Kensi shot her husband a look. "Hardly. Sam and Shyla were putting the finishing touches on their reports and Callen was haunting them up in ops because his phone started ringing. Pretty sure it was Arkady looking to grab a drink."

      Rountree wished he could muster a more genuine smile as the couple bickered about the post-case details and simultaneously tried to settle on a story regarding the absence of Deeks' truck for Rosa. Truly, though, he wished he had more energy to pay attention to his friends…

      His eyes wandered to the intake bracelet taped to his wrist atop his bandages. Sure, the team had gotten him an ambulance, and the initial field examinations had been good. But the EMTs as well as Kilbride had insisted Rountree follow up with the ER. He'd had a round of x-rays already, but the nurses had disappeared after he'd insisted they didn't need to cram him into an MRI machine for additional scans.

      …no, he really didn't want to be in any tight spaces, not after that smothering trick Miller had her henchman pull.

      "…ee? …tree? Rountree," Kensi said, more firmly this time.

      Her tone finally snapped him out of it. "Hmm, yeah?"

      Kensi narrowed her eyes and leaned over the console to get a good look at him. They must've been at a red light. "They are letting you go home, right? The EMTs at the scene—"

      Rountree grinned (ouch, he had to stop doing that by default!) and shook his head. "It's nothing. I think the nurses are just putting together my x-rays for my dentist, as we thought."

      Bad enough Kensi frowned at him, but even Deeks gave him some serious side eye. They already had one kid to get home to; Rountree didn't want them to make a detour on his behalf.

      "Instead, you could always fill me in on what I missed out. I'm guessing you wanna leave any gory details at the door when you see Rosa."

      They stared at Rountree and then shared a look. Kensi grumbled before Deeks conceded with a nod. "Considering we were all on a super-secret hit list, I'm kinda surprised that much of the action rather"—Deeks pantomimed making a ball of…something—"sandwiched today's events."

      "You mean 'bookended,' babe," Kensi corrected.

      "Ah, yes, that," he agreed with a snap and point of his fingers.

      Regardless, Rountree furrowed his brow. "So, what? The day's most exciting things were Fatima and me getting shot at with me taken away and then you guys coming to my rescue?"

      Deeks shrugged but nodded. "Well, Torres and I were shot at, too—who knew a big red truck could be a big red target?"

      That explained the earlier bickering. But the mention of his partner also highlighted how Kensi and Deeks hadn't mentioned Fatima in their recounting of leaving OSP today. He replayed in his mind's eye that gigantic hug from Fatima, after he'd been freed, and he pursed his lips. Fatima was always a chill, casual person…but she'd definitely been beside herself once they'd reunited.

      Would it be strange, though, to ask them how Fatima had been while he'd been missing?

      Whether she guessed where his mind had gone or it was simply the place to start her story, Kensi said, "…as Deeks stated, that ambush at the admiral's home caught us all off-guard. Despite needing rest and receiving what I thought was my best mom voice, Fatima was raring to go from the start."

      Rountree frowned. That didn't sound like anything new, since his partner could flip a switch and go from "chill" to "feisty" in no time flat. "And…?"

      Deeks squinted and cocked his head in his usual manner that prefaced telling any one of them some unflattering detail. "And Kens is being really nice when she means that Fatima spent the entire day biting everyone's heads off."

      He gaped at his fellow agents. "She what?!" Rountree froze. "Hold on—I barely interacted with our visitors, but don't tell me—"

      "No," Kensi assured him while Deeks whistled, "no, Fatima kept her blasts aimed primarily at our team and at suspects only. Tennant and the rest understood the circumstances anyway, I'm sure."

      "Wait—what happened with the suspects?!"

      Deeks pulled a face, which Kensi matched, and dodged the question. "Besides, Fatima was back to herself at the end of the day," the blond insisted with a sage stroke of his scruff. "Actually, she and Agent Tara almost seemed chummy."

      "Deeks, Kensi—what happened with the suspects?"

      Kensi turned the wheel, and the SUV rolled to a stop before she cut the engine. Then she gave him a shit-eating grin. "Rountree, honest, it was nothing that Sam and Callen can't smooth over."

      Rountree met her eyes and looked to Deeks, as well, searching for a hint. But if they really didn't want him to worry… "Please tell me that was the most outrageous thing that occurred after my abduction."

      The couple paused for thought. Deeks counted to himself on his free hand. "Not counting the covert clue delivered by one ever-elusive Henrietta Lange and one impressive headshot by one ever-horrifying Hollace Kilbride, there's one other thing, but it's hearsay."

      He'd been with this team long enough that any addition to the myth of Hetty no longer stunned him, but the detail about Kilbride saving his hide startled Rountree. Perhaps the admiral had some fondness for him after all? Nevertheless— "Hearsay?" Rountree echoed. He wouldn't be distracted by the other details, which were stories for another day.

      They both nodded, but Kensi's smile was impressed this time. "According to Lucy—Agent Tara—when she and Fatima surrounded one of Miller's men, Fatima descended on the guy from above, leaping off the leg of the plane like—and I'm quoting here—'Wolverine from X-Men.'" She stifled a snicker. "Apparently Lucy didn't have to do anything once Fatima got to blow off some steam."

      Rountree blinked. He opened his mouth and closed it. "Fatima."

      "Our Fatima, yep."

      "Like…Jackman's Wolverine?"

      "I mean, Lucy didn't specify movies versus comics, but that flying-with-claws-out attack is fairly iconic."

      Rountree brought his legs up and reclined on the hospital bed. Maybe Miller had hit him harder than he'd thought, because he definitely wasn't hearing things right…

      On their end, someone (likely their daughter) called for Kensi and Deeks. The parents gave him mirrored half smiles. "You'll heal in no time, bud," Deeks said.

      "Thanks," he mumbled.

      "And, Rountree?" Kensi waited until he met her eyes again. "Grab an Uber home soon. But feel free to take one here, too, just because."

      He appreciated that she left the "in case doctors feel you need looking after" part unsaid. "Thank you, Kensi, Deeks," he said with a bit more strength in his voice.

      "We'll catch you later," Deeks promised, and they both waved before the video call disconnected.

      While Rountree appreciated knowing some of what transpired while he'd been held hostage…he also found he couldn't quite wrap his head around it. He'd seen Fatima in a foul mood, sure. And he'd seen her kick some serious ass out in the field. But—a feral Fatima?

      "Hey."

      He jolted at the sound of her voice and dropped his phone on his stomach. The distance hadn't been far, but the device was heavy enough and his middle was tenderized enough from the day's events so his breath left him in a pained "Oof!"

      Fatima rounded the foot of his hospital bed but was wary of touching him and making things hurt more. She winced along with him. "Rountree, jeez, are you all right? I didn't mean to scare you."

      Rountree gave her a tiny smile that his lips didn't protest. "Nah, not scare. Just…surprised." He glanced at the busy hallway and noted that the staff seemed unbothered with his late-night visitor. "Hey, aren't visiting hours—?"

      Fatima shrugged with just her right shoulder and patted her jeans pocket. "I…might've used my badge to get past the reception desk."

      He quirked an eyebrow.

      "Technically, not against the rules. I am an NCIS Special Agent, checking up on her fellow NCIS Special Agent."

      Rountree stifled a laugh. "Is it a Fatima or an OSP thing, working the rules like that?" he asked, scooting to the left side of the bed so she could sit on the edge.

      Fatima took the offered seat and smirked. "Honestly? Kind of both." She paused then, taking in the sight of him patched up and bruised, and her smirk slowly faded. "So? What do the doctors say?"

      He raised both eyebrows and held her gaze. Then he answered, with some reluctance, "A lot of what the EMTs suspected was right. Bruised ribs, not fractured." He motioned in a circle to his face. "Minor fractures along my jaw, mostly around my teeth. Orbital fracture of my left eye." Rountree hesitated and folded his hands in his lap. "Abrasions on my wrists from where they bound me… The rest is superficial and the nurses already stitched me up as needed, Fatima."

      If she heard his last sentence, she didn't give any indication. Fatima zeroed in on his face with grim determination, her lips pursed so flatly she nearly frowned. But she wasn't staring him in the eye. No, it was easy to guess she was tracing over every last stitch and scratch on his face.

      So Rountree finally said what he meant to instead of enumerating his injuries. "Fatima, you didn't have to come see me tonight. You could've asked tomorrow or another time."

      Yet Fatima shook her head. "…it had to be tonight."

      Rountree studied his partner, studied the tightness in her expression, the drop of her gaze to the hospital's sterile white sheets, the curl of her fingers in his blanket, the absence of color in her knuckles the harder she squeezed, the slight movement when he realized that Fatima…feral Fatima Namazi…shook beside him.

      He recalled his own rollercoaster of emotions in that plane today, not knowing whether to trust Miller when the villain had insisted she'd captured Fatima, too. Suddenly, it seemed more plausible to him, that Fatima might be as vicious as Special Agent Tara described, much as it made sense that Fatima would be clingy upon their reunion. He, too, had run the gamut of emotions today.

      So Rountree scooted to the left once more, now pressing himself against the railing, and patted the empty stretch of bed beside him. He patted it a second time when the first motion failed to get Fatima's attention.

      And Fatima understood. It were as though they were back at the plane again, outside with Miller's body only feet away, the danger still feeling far too real. Fatima stretched out beside him and lightly draped her arm across him, letting him arrange it so she didn't press against fresh bruises. And she buried her face against his neck as she hugged him, tight.

      "Fatima…," Rountree murmured, "…I am alive. I survived. We survived. We'll be okay. I'll be okay." Of course, even as he said it, he wondered how much more convincing she would take.

      Fatima squeezed him harder, and Rountree patted her arm. He twisted his head to catch a glimpse of her face then—but another detail snared his attention, so he quickly averted his eyes: Their current embrace had shifted her pastel pink headscarf a bit, allowing some of her dark hair to peek out.

      He cleared his throat. "Um, F-Fatima. Your, uh, scarf…"

      She stiffened against him. But she simply withdrew her free arm from his chest, fixed her hijab, and returned to her previous posture. Even if the brief incident snapped her back to reality, today's happenings…they loomed larger, making reality feel like something still far out of their grasp.

      But Rountree knew otherwise. Their reality was that they'd persevered. They'd come out on the other side of today's horribleness, no worse for the wear. And if Fatima needed to hold on to the tangible evidence of that—to hold on to him—a little while longer, until it felt properly real to her…then so be it.

Done for the 5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 Fandoms Challenge as well as the If You Dare Challenge (for prompt #25: I'm alive) in the HPFC forum on FFN. WELL. I actually enjoyed the big xover event a lot more than I thought I would! Granted, I wish we'd had one ages ago, back when NOLA was still on (NOLA, my beloved, you are missed! ;w;), but I'm mostly satisfied with the story they did for this—plus LA on a Monday night, where it belongs?! YES, PLS AND TY! 8D Anywho! I…have been with LA from the beginning. I have old story ideas from a decade ago, even. I just…haven't written anything until now. There's been so much to love about LA, and the charries are so near and dear to my heart, but s14's "A Long Time Coming" rly smacked me in the feels when they separated Rountree and Fatima. I've adored both charries since their respective debuts, and I've always delighted in Fatima's fondness for him, hence why I'm happy with either platonic or shippy content for them. -w- But since Rountree was on his own for much of the ep, having Densi fill him in was a lot of fun (and legit the Wolverine comparison is my own—I'm a BIG X-Men {comics and movies} fan myself). Let's see… Oh, funnily enough, tho this is my first LA fic and I've done NCIS fanart before, I actually have drawn smthg before that was Fatima-inspired! (Can you tell I'm a big fan? :3c) Final remarks: For anyone who might not know, to my understanding, it's respectful to avert your eyes (esp if you're male) when someone wearing a hijab has their hair accidentally shown, and you also wouldn't fix it yourself. I included this in the story since Fatima frequently changes out her scarves btwn normal/fashion and fitted/athletic types, and I wondered how this episode's affectionate Fatima would mind it coming loose at all around someone to whom she's v close but not family/married. Plus, Rountree behaving accordingly by knowing not to touch it and risk touching her hair demonstrates respect btwn them! -w- *iz a sucker for soft friendships* Ahhhh, I just love these two a lot.

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

[leotanaka]

"honey!" "honey, i love you too!"

sallen remain the best relationship ever :)))

[thjslove]

You and I have been through a lot together over the years. I would not be here today if it wasn't for you. No, you would not. Aren't you gonna say you wouldn't be here without me, either ? Well, I don't want to lie to you. Especially on your wedding day.

[romancemedia]

Hetty forces Kensi and Deeks to trade partners for the day (6x18)

[filidefenderoferebor]

Sam Hanna x G. Callen

[grande-caps]

NCIS Los Angeles 14.18 - “Sensu Lato”

Quality : HD screencaptures Amount : 1.162 files Resolution : 1.920 x 1.080 px

-Please like/reblog if taking!

[bullet-prooflove]

StolenMoments!Series Part Four: Last Words - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds

You’ve been in a relationship with Sabatino for three months when you are captured by insurgents outside of a village near Khost. It’s a flurry of stolen moments, nights spent tangled up in each other whilst Granger’s off base, secret smiles when you run into each other, small gestures meant to make each other’s lives easier. It’s the happiest that Sabatino has been in a long time.

Your intelligence network has been running for over two months when it happens. There’s a steady stream of information flowing through all the appropriate channels and the intel, it’s good. The task force has managed to track down several terrorist cells, striking a hard blow to Taliban efforts in the immediate area. Sabatino thinks that’s the reason they came after you, they want the names of your assets. You would rather die than give up that information. It’s Sabatino’s worst nightmare, because he remembers what they did to Sanders, he knows they’ll do worse to you.

They have half a day on Sabatino by the time he finds out that you’re missing. He’s spent a week out in the mountains, searching the caves for a guy they believe is hiding out there when he calls to check in with Granger. When he gets the news, it feels like his heart stops in his chest, the oxygen rushes out of his lungs and for a minute he can’t breathe.

“You need to come back in.” Granger tells him as he holds onto the sat phone so tightly, he hears the plastic creak.

“No.” Sabatino tells Granger, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m close to the location she was taken. I can catch up with them.”

“You’ve been out there over a week. Come back in, refuel. That’s an order.” Granger barks and Sabatino, he doesn’t give a shit because as far as he’s concerned Granger’s not his boss, he has no authority over him. Even if he was, that wouldn’t stop him.

“And lose more time? I don’t think so.” He hangs up on Granger before tucking the sat phone back into his pocket. He does a mental inventory of his supplies, considers the items he has on him, what he can harvest from the land. It gets sparse when it comes to higher up in the mountains, but he’ll handle that when he gets to it.

He manages to track the group into the Kush, submitting coordinates as often as he can to Granger. Each time the other man tries to order him back and each time he refuses. By now your team are already on route and Sabatino is trying to give them the best chance he can of catching up because from what he can see of the convoy, he’s going to need the manpower.

They’re moving fast towards the Pakistan border and if he has any hope of stopping them, he’s going to need back up because if they get you over there, you’re as good as dead.

Things turn to shit when he ends up in a skirmish with a small splinter group. He takes a bullet, it’s a through and through, transecting the muscle in his left bicep. It hurts like a fucker but it’s nothing more than a flesh wound. The problem is it won’t stop bleeding and he has nothing to stem it with. He leaves a trail of blood and three dead bodies in his wake.

It’s not long after that that your team catches up with him, the only weapon he has on him is a combat knife, he almost takes out Callen when he sneaks up on him in the brush.

“Did you see her?” Sam asks him as he bandages the wound in Sabatino’s left arm.

“Yea.” He says, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He’d caught a glimpse of you through his binoculars when he was up on the ridge. Your hands were bound in front of you, your face bloodied, smeared with dirt and marred with bruising. The beating has gone further than just your face, he could tell from the stiffness as you moved. The look in your eyes, it’s furious and fierce. You still have that fire in you despite the fact you know exactly what awaits you. “She’s still fighting.”

When they find the convoy, they’re presented with a problem. Their group is outgunned, outmanned and extremely low on resources. The Taliban outnumber them seven to one and Sabatino is wounded. Their only saving grace is when Deek’s comes through with another option. He has a prisoner they might be interested in, the father of the man that leads the group.

An exchange is negotiated.

You for the father.

When the helicopter lands with their hostage, Granger tries to shove him onto it so he can receive medical treatment.

“Sit this one out, you’re injured.”

“You know what she means to me.” Sabatino snarls at the other man, jabbing his finger towards the group. He knows all of those late-night trysts haven’t gone unnoticed, that the Acting Director understands it’s a lot more than just two agents blowing off steam. “Let me do the walk, instead of risking one of your assets.”

He makes a good point. Sabatino is expendable at least in the eyes of NCIS. If he dies here today, there’s no one to mourn him, they don’t even have to bring his body back. The CIA will claim he never existed.

It’s Sabatino that walks their prisoner into the centre of the clearing. He keeps his face impassive, his gaze fixed on you as they march forward. It’s worse than he thought, one of your eyes is bloodshot, your nose is broken. He can hear the wheeze in your chest, see the shortness of breath. He thinks they may have cracked a rib or two when they beat you. It breaks his fucking heart because he never wanted any of this for you.

When they shove you from behind, you stumble. He catches you in his arms, ignoring the pain that tears at his left bicep as he supports your weight. He wraps his good arm around your shoulders, clasping you close, tucking you into his side before he leads you towards the safety of the chopper.

It’s only as he turns his back that he hears the click of the pistol. This is the other reason it had to be him, he knows the Taliban can never let an asset like you go, not even for the father of their leader. The damage you’ve done already, it’s too great. The damage you will do if they let you go…

It would be catastrophic to their organisation.

He hauls you against him, shielding you from harm with his body as the gunshot explodes through the air, ringing in his ears. He feels the bullet searing through his flesh, the impact smashing into him.

It’s a blur after that, a haze of motion in the midst of the agony that rips through his chest. Every time he blinks the scene changes. The sky, the rotors of the helicopter, and then your face. His gaze locks on you, his hand trembling as he seeks out yours. You clasp it tightly and he smiles despite the fact he can taste copper on his tongue. He wants to tell you that it’s ok, that this was meant to happen. So long as you’re alive and safe it doesn’t matter.

He opens his mouth to speak but his brain can’t form the words in English, so he slips back into his mother’s tongue, the one he was raised on.

“Yes sirum yem k’ez,” he whispers in Armenian.

Your forehead comes to rest upon his, his fingertips ghosting along the line of your cheek as the darkness twinges at the edges of his vision. He tries to hold on, he really does but that exhaustion it overwhelms him, dragging him under.

“Yes sirum yem k’ez,” he repeats as he slips away. “Yes sirum yem k’ez,”

I love you, I love you, I love you.

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