#court gentry x y/n

[stardustdreams-andcaffeine]

Bullet for You | Sierra Six

sierra six x fem!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: Six's job is simple—protect you and Claire. It should have been straight-forward, should have been easy. That is, until you fell in love. And love makes us do crazy things, things that make the simple job of protecting very difficult.

A/N: I'm back! I know it's been a while, but I'm on a break from university and I can actually breathe and do the things I love, like writing for a totally new character to me! It's another angsty whump, but what else do you expect? Some authors specialize in smut, others in fluff. I just happen to love the angst. And be honest, so do you. Love and miss you all, keep dreaming 🤍

Warnings: angst, blood, injury, language, happy ending I promise

Word Count: 6033

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It began with a smile.

I'm not even sure if you could call what Sierra Six's lips made a smile, considering how small and quick it was. I count it, though. After months of being a bodyguard for my sister and I, months of Claire cracking jokes and me forcing Six to sit through comedy after comedy, he finally smiled.

And he smiled at me.

It was oh so brief, so fleeting, so miniscule. And yet, that one upturn of his lips changed something so fundamental and eternally within me. I was in the kitchen, trying desperately to grab the flour from the top cabinet and stubbornly refusing any and all help Six so stoically offered from his silent post in the corner. When I managed to accidentally tip it over, raining the flour down upon me and sending the bag careening to the floor, I looked up just in time to see Six's lip turn up.

And I could never be the same.

After the smile, more of the ice began to crack. He got more comfortable on movie nights, would even joke back with me with that dry, sarcastic humor of his. Sometimes, if it's been an especially good week, I can get Six to take us out on the town. Our mission had always been just to warm up the unflinching exterior of Sierra Six. Claire and I never meant to rely on his protection, his safety, his surprising warmth.

I never meant to fall in love.

And love makes you do incomprehensible things.

"Six, on average, how much do you sleep? Just give me a ballpark number here," I call out, eying the stoic, gorgeously rugged man over my steaming coffee mug.

Six pauses to think for a minute before adjusting the cuffs on his suit jacket, "3 hours on a good night."

"Excuse me?" I sputter, almost choking on the burning liquid caffeine. I set down my mug, my wide eyes catching on the humor buried in Six's smug features, "You have to know how bad for you that is."

"Sleep is for the weak," Six replies plainly, and even though I know he's joking with me I roll my eyes skyward.

"That's why you have the emotional range of a carrot. I would too if I slept that little!"

I almost miss the smile that ghosts his lips. It takes every ounce of strength I have to smother the roaring of my heart at the sight. Six simply stares ahead, his unchanging demeanor giving little away. After the many months he's been watching over us, though, I've learned to pick up on the subtleties in his behavior. The way his shoulders are relaxed and his jaw isn't set, the way his clear blue eyes seem softened, I'd go as far to call him almost...content.

I hadn't realized how much I would be willing to give to make sure he stayed that way.

I find myself studying him for another moment, and I know that he knows I am. I can't bring myself to look away, though. I know what he's been through, and even if my knowledge is only a fraction of his past, I know that peace and rest have seldom been in the cards for him. Sudden, pressing emotion threatens to choke me at the thought of the agent's life away from here. All of the horrible things he has to do, all of the fighting, all of the sleepless nights and days void of joy.

"Six, can I ask you a personal question?"

There's a beat of silence, and I know he wasn't expecting that from me. Neither was I, if I'm going to be honest.

"Technically you're my boss, so you can ask me anything. Now whether or not I’ll answer..." Six tilts his head, his humored eyes meeting mine as the start of a smirk tugs at his lips. He walks over slowly to the breakfast table I sit at, and I almost begin to fear that the pounding of my heart and searing of my blood in my veins is audible.

"Ask away, Y/N." Six says gently, his gaze down at me with a glint of something that he keeps intricately veiled.

And yet it makes a shiver crawl down my spine.

I almost lose my nerve, what with his eyes burning down into me and the closeness of his presence making my head dizzy with a dangerous tangle of attraction and unspoken feelings. Swallowing thickly, I keep my voice calm as I hold his gaze.

"If you had a say in your life, what would it look like?" I almost whisper.

His jaw clenches slightly, his throat bobbing and his body going tense. A faraway look settles into those breathtaking eyes as Six raises his gaze to the window across from us. He's silent for a while, which is characteristic for Six. He always chooses his words wisely, always stays calm, always remains sure.

This is the most unsure I've seen him, and it makes me wonder if he's ever been asked this.

"I don't know," He finally answers truthfully, making something so fundamental crack in my chest. I can't help but stare at his lifted face with furrowed brows and and pain-filled eyes. "I guess I've never really thought about it."

"You've never thought about what you want?" I ask, my voice no more than a breath to hide the anguish that threatens to out my feelings for my bodyguard.

Six sets his jaw, looking down at me again and stealing the breath from my lungs. His eyes search my face, almost as if he's memorizing every feature. In them is more emotion than I've seen in his gaze before. Finally, his eyes meet mine and I remember how much of a goner I am.

"Not until recently."

I don't dare to imagine what he means, but I can't ignore the stumbling of my heart and the overwhelming urge to stand and close the distance between us. I stay unmoving in my chair though, not daring to barely breathe.

"And what do you want, Six?"

Out of the corner of my eye I see his hands clench tighter together in front of him, almost as if he's...restraining them. From what, I'm not sure. My heart pounds harder in its cage of bones and I feel something shift in the air between us. As my breathing slowly increases and the silence grows thicker, I begin to realize that I can't hold back from him much longer. Six seems ready to answer when the ringing of my phone on the breakfast table interrupts and snaps the moment.

"Sorry," I whisper, finding my breath hard to gather as I look down at the caller ID, "It's work. I have to take this."

I give him a sympathetic gaze, but Six seems to relax slightly at this. He takes a few steps back and nods, giving me another small smile, "Duty calls,"

I smile back, and it takes all of my effort to look away and answer the phone. The call is short and to the point. They're loading me with remote work to finish over the weekend before Monday morning. Once I finally hang up, I let out a long sigh and shove myself to my feet.

"Well, looks like my Saturday just got filled," I announce with a yawn, stretching my arms up before grabbing my coffee mug. I give Six a tired smile as I bring the empty mug to the sink in the kitchen.

"They're working you half to death," Six remarks, turning to watch me as I clean my dishes, "Any more extra hours and I might have to go over there and bloody up my knuckles."

His words shouldn't ignite me as much as they do.

"I’m tempted to tell you to, being technically your boss and all," I respond, and I swear a quiet laugh escapes his laugh. It makes a soft smile grow onto my lips that I don't bother to stop. I finally tear away my gaze and walk towards my room.

"Let me know if you need anything, Six." I call back, meaning every word.

What he says next makes he halt in my step, my brows furrowed in confusion.

"Court."

I look back at him, not even having to ask to convey that I don't know what he means by that one word. Six just stares at me in a way that makes me feel undone.

"That's my real name. Courtland, but everyone used to call me Court."

His name. More than a number, more than a title, more than a job. His name. He told me his name.

What Six...what Court has done to me can never be undone. What he has changed within me can never be fixed. I know it as I just stare at him, a smile growing on my lips. I know it as that name clangs around in my mind.

"If you tell anyone, I'll have to kill you, though." Court jokes, his face still so stoic. With my heart pounding in my chest and my mind spinning out of control, I stand staring at him in awe for another moment.

"I'll take it to my grave," I whisper, my heart racing so quickly that I fear it will fail, "Court."

Saying it is one thing, but to hear his name from someone else, to hear his name from me...Something changes in Court's gaze. Something changes between us, something I can't put my finger on and something that makes me come to two realizations as I walk into my room and shut the door.

One. I love him more than I thought love was capable of.

I press my back up against my bedroom door, letting my head fall back and my eyes slip closed.

Two. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, I wouldn't do to give Courtland every single thing he could ever want.

That second realization is a very dangerous thing to know to be true when the man you'd give everything for is the man in charge of protecting your very life.

|||

Later That Night

I walk out of my bedroom, stretching with a groan. It's nearly two in the morning and I'm just now finishing up with the work that my boss sent over. My tired eyes adjust to the darkness of the house as I make my way over to the kitchen and grab a water from the fridge.

"I guess I'll relax when I retire," I grumble under my breath as I take a swig of water.

I recap the bottle and go to set it on the counter edge, but miss. When the plastic bottle clatters against the ground and I realize that I have to pick it up, I let out another groan. Mumbling under my breath annoyedly, I bend down to pick up the bottle. When I do, I'm not even fully standing before a large, powerful arm is barring my throat and pressing me to the fridge with a massive, warm body. I barely have time to gasp when my wide eyes meet those familiar blue ones and his arm is off of me in the next instant.

"Shit, Y/N are you okay?" Six asks, gently taking my face in his large, rough hands and tilting it so he can examine the untarnished skin of my neck for signs of harm.

I force out a laugh to hide the lowering panic from being attacked and from being so close to Court. Where his skin meets mine burns so intensely that I almost think something is wrong.

"I'm alright," I promise, but he doesn't let go and step back until he has come to the same conclusion, "Unless you count scaring me half to death."

"No one's usually up this late, I thought you were an intruder," Six responds, guilt still coursing through his gaze. I can’t help notice the absence of warmth in my body without his hands on me.

"Well, you're very good at your job but if I were an intruder, why would I stop for some water?" I ask, humor coursing through me. Six shrugs, and I can tell he's scrambling to regain his composure.

"Maybe you got thirsty. Breaking in takes effort"

I laugh softly, which visibly puts Six at ease. He shakes his head slightly, running a hand across his stubble-covered jaw. It's then that I notice he's not wearing professional clothes. Instead, a tight-fitting black t-shirt shows off nearly every muscle in his torso and the sweatpants to go with it make him almost seem...normal. The sight has my mouth dry and my chest tightly constricted.

"I can't believe my eyes," I remark breathlessly, looking up to connect my gaze with his, "You're not wearing a suit."

"They're in the wash," he remarks, making another laugh escape my lips.

"Well, now that you've scared me half to death, I'm definitely not tired anymore."

"Next time, don't go sneaking around the kitchen at midnight," Six advises. I scoff, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"Sneaking around? If that was sneaking around then I lied. You must not be very good at your job," I point out. His ever-so stoic face turns smug in a way that sends my heart careening out of rhythm. He takes a step closer and I have to look up to keep my gaze locked with his. His warmth washes over me and suddenly I can't think straight.

"Honey, I'm not good at my job. I'm fucking incredible at it," Six rumbles, and every coherent part of me turns molten.

The way he looks down at me with that stupid smirk on the lips that I've dreamed about for months, the way his body seems to dwarf mine, the way every molecule of air has been sucked away...it's too much for my fool's heart to resist any longer.

We both go quiet, and I think he realizes the tension thick in the air at the same moment that I do. His eyes dart down to my lips so quickly that I almost think I dreamt it, but I know that I didn't and it sends me past the breaking point.

"Y/N," Court whispers. His voice is a warning, a plea, a promise.

I'm about to close the distance between us when the glint of something catches my eye. I dart my gaze over my bodyguard's shoulder just in time to see a singular man with a handgun standing at the entry of the kitchen.

And the gun's aimed at Six, not me.

My eyes widen, and the moment suddenly slows to a crawl. The man's finger is already squeezing the trigger, and in my head I can see the love of my life catching that bullet and crumpling to the ground. Pure horror seizes my chest and I can't even think before I act.

"NO!" I shout, shoving around Six and managing to get my body between him and the man just in time for a gunshot to ring pure and clear through the air.

Time freezes and every second is a handful of years. The pain is instant, but the bite is dulled by Six bellowing my name. I've never even heard his voice get that loud. It seems almost louder than the second gunshot that explodes nearer to my head, one that comes from Six and hits the lone intruder directly between the eyes.

I press my hands to the burning in my chest, and my shocked brain can't seem to comprehend what the thick, warm liquid that gushes around my fingers is. I see Six move in front of me and slowly look up at him, my head growing lighter by the second. His eyes are wild and frantic, not an ounce of calm in sight.

"Court," I breathe, and it's the only word I can get out before my legs give out. Courtland reacts instantly, lifting me in his arms and already moving for Claire's room.

"Hold on, honey. Hold on," He orders, his voice straining for indifferent but betrayed by its tremble. My blurring vision stays caught on the beautiful man who holds me, and for once his stoic nature is broken. In its stead is a panic that he barely keeps controlled.

"Six? Six what happened?" Claire calls out from somewhere in front of me.

"Claire, I need you to grab the keys and get the car started. We need to get your sister to a hospital, alright?"

I can hear Claire frantically rush out a million questions as she scrambles through the house. My vision begins to fade, voices begins to dull, and I can barely keep my eyes open as I feel myself being carried into the garage. I vaguely hear the roar of an engine and the opening of a car door. In the midst of it all, though, my eyes are on Court.

"Court," I whisper, and through the darkening haze I see the love of my life look down at me, his gaze breaking with something deathly close to tears, "Court I'm tired again"

"No baby," he interrupts, his voice breaking on the words so deeply that he has to clear his throat to keep his tone steady, "I need you to stay awake, alright sweetheart?"

I try to nod as he sets my down in the back seat with Claire and shuts the door. I can hear my sister sobbing and speaking to me as she presses down firmly on my chest, trying desperately to keep my blood from gushing out of my body. Then, Court's in the driver's seat and peeling out of the garage and down the road at an ungodly speed. The squeal of tires and the smell of burning rubber catch in me as my brain scrambles to hold onto anything and everything.

"Why did you do that, Y/N?" Court demands, his voice so angry and terrified and desperate, all at once showing more emotion than I have ever head from him. “Why did you that?"

I know he doesn't mean for me to answer, but in the midst of it all his voice is my lifeline to the living world. As the pain dulls and I feel myself being dragged underneath by the alluring peace of darkness, Sierra Six's voice keeps me tethered to reality a few minutes longer.

He was just supposed to be my bodyguard. He didn’t even want this job when he first started. He was my uncle’s employee and that was it.

And now, I’ve taken a bullet for him. I’d do it again, too. Over and over and over again.

Oh how things have changed.

"I couldn't let you die." My voice is weak and small, but he hears it through all of the commotion. As he tears down the dark road, his eyes meet mine in the review mirror. In them, I see his heart shattering. I see the guilt mounting and I see his very composure hanging by a thread.

"You should have let me."

Those words are the last things I hear before my world fades away into a nothingness so consuming that I almost welcome it.

|||

The next few hours—or days, of which I’m not sure—pass in a drug-induced haze that captures my mind in a knee-deep sludge.

There’s flashes of white coats and bright lights, needles and monitors, cold metal and blinding pain. Through it all, my mind struggles to keep pace and the confusion muddles every thought and leaves them to die on their way across a neuron to fruition. Eventually, the chaos settles into a blissful sleep.

That is, until the lights turn back on in my mind and this time, I can think clearly.

When I finally manage to get my eyes to open to the soft lighting of a hospital room, I remain still on the bed. I can hear voices mulling around me, and subconsciously I find myself searching and yearning for that one specific voice to grace my ears.

But it doesn't.

With a slight frown etched into my brow, I stir slightly on the hospital bed and turn my head to survey the room. The sources of the voices appear as I sweep my gaze to the chairs at my bedside. A small smile etches onto my lips. It's Uncle Fitz and Claire.

"Hey,"

My voice is barely a scratch of a whisper, but it makes my family go silent before me. They both whip their gazes towards me, and instantly whatever conversation the two were having before is long forgotten. Uncle Fitz and Claire hurry to my side, each speaking over the other to try and talk with me. Tears edge my gaze and I chuckle slightly, the motion making my chest ache painfully.

"One at a time," I manage out, smiling at the two. Uncle Fitz grabs ahold of my hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it and clutching it in his grasp as if at any moment I'll fade away.

"You gave us both one hell of a scare, kiddo,"

"Yeah," Claire chirps in, slapping my thigh lightly, "Don't do that again, Y/N"

She's saying something else, but my gaze sweeps through the rest of the room and something in my chest falls when I see only a stranger standing in the corner. No trace of Six. An odd spiraling sensation trickles through my chest. This room isn't complete without him.

"Where's Six?" I mumble, turning to look between a now silent Uncle Fitz and Claire. My uncle takes in a long breath and sits up slightly, keeping my hand in his.

"Y/N, this is Agent Williams. He will be watching over you and Claire from now on"

That trickle in my chest intensifies to a downpour, and suddenly someone is wrenching my heart in their grasp. My breathing quickens, my head spins, my soul trembles.

Where is Six? Where is he? Why isn't he here?

"Did you fire him?" I breathe out, my eyes wide and every emotion displayed plainly across my face.

"Y/N," Fitz sighs, hanging his head so to not look me in the eyes.

"Did you fire him?" I repeat, my heart beating so fast it could burst. Then, Uncle Fitzroy looks me in the eyes once more.

"No, sweetheart. He requested to be moved to another assignment."

And my heart, my very soul, fractures.

He's just so easily left us behind? After everything we've been through, after every day cooped up together, after slowly but surely breaking into my chest and stealing my heart, he's gone.

I don’t think so.

I only groan slightly as I sit up against my uncle’s protests, “Give me his location.”

Fitz freezes, his brows furrowing as he stands unsure beside my hospital bed, “Y/N, I can’t-“

“Give me his location,” I repeat, staring down my uncle, “You know it’s safe with me.”

Fitz holds my gaze for a few more moments, warring with himself over whether or not to give into my demands. I know I’ve won when he lets out a long sigh and pulls out his phone.

“You’re not gonna back down, so I guess I have to,” he wearily says. He fiddles around with his phone before putting it away and pulling out a burner phone from another pocket.

Does he just keep those things on hand?

“Here, I sent the location to this phone,” Uncle Fitz informs, slipping the burner phone into my hand, “But you’re not allowed to go until you’re healed up.”

I nod, grateful to take whatever bargain I can. As the day goes on, it turns into two. And then three. And then a week. And then two weeks. Before I know it, it’s been a month, and I’m still clutching the burner phone to my chest. A few more months and I’ll be able to hunt Six down. I’ll find him.

I have to.

|||

A few months later.

The cold wind whips against my cheeks angrily, making my skin nearly burn with the frost it holds. The buildings smattered around do little to break the icy temperatures, and neither does the throngs of people mulling around quietly with their thick coats tugged close. My eyes follow the buildings closely as I walk, and it isn’t long before I come to a pause and pull out the small burner phone Uncle Fitz gave me months ago in the hospital.

I check and then double check. This is it. This is the building.

Anxiety I hadn’t expected blossoms in the bottom of my gut as I stand before the apartment complex. A million doubts rush through my head, but I banish them with the reminder that, if nothing else, I am here to see Court one last time.

Even if that last time is me punching him across the face.

I shove past the crowd and hastily cross the street, getting lucky enough to slip in through the main entrance behind another tenant as they go in. The blast of stifled heat in the dingy, close to trashy, apartment lobby is enough to make me choke, but it’s welcome compared to the icebox of outside. I go unnoticed as I make my way to the stairwell beside the elevators that don’t seem all that trustworthy.

Fourth floor. Room 416. It should be the last one on the right.

I take each step slower than the last, my grit fizzling out the closer I get to the fourth floor. The stairwell is silent, leaving my brain plenty of room to run over and over and over again what could happen. Once again, I silence the thoughts by reminding myself of what spurred me to come here in the first place.

He left. Six left and I don’t think I can keep living like this without him.

What if he doesn’t want to stay with me? What if I mean as little to him as the next target? What if, what if, what if?

I don’t even pause to catch my breath when I reach the massive door marked with the Russian word for four. I shove through it and begin to blaze my way down the cramped hallway. My heart is racing but I don’t dare stop, don’t dare look back. I’ve come this far, I can’t turn around now.

I do pause, though, when I reach the last door on the right. Room 416.

“416,” I breathe, my heart slamming in my chest loud enough to reverberate through my being.

Then I raise my fist, and knock.

And knock.

And then knock again.

By the third round of knocking, it hits me that he’s probably not home. For some reason, that comforts me. I tug in a breath of stifled air and then pull out the pickpocketing kit I’d purchased weeks ago in case of this very scenario. With trembling fingers, I stoop down and begin to fiddle with the lock just as I’d practiced. It’s only a few minutes before I’m met with a surprising click.

It’s open.

I stash the kit and hold my breath as I take the cold doorknob in my grasp. Then, with a heart of both lead and hope, I turn it and enter his apartment. The moment I’m inside and the door is shut behind me, I know that I’ve reached the right place. The overwhelming smell of pine and snow and a hint of gum circulates, and that’s one smell I don’t think I’ll ever soon forget.

Casting my gaze around the darkened apartment, I notice it’s as I suspected. I can’t see anyone in here. I traipse my way into the main area of the small but quaint apartment. There’s a kitchen to my left, a small living room to my right, and a short hallway leading to a door that I presume is his bedroom before me.

I haven’t taken more than two steps towards the door when a pair of large, rough hands grasp my shoulders and shove me backwards until I’m colliding with the wall beside the kitchen. A massive, muscular arm comes up to bar my throat, and once my shock has subsided, I come to realize what’s happening. The familiarity of this is too strong.

Because it’s him. It’s Courtland.

He must be just as surprised to see me, because the moment recognition flares through those gorgeous, deadly eyes, his stubble-covered jaw slackens and so does his hold on my neck. He keeps me there against the wall, seeming to be frozen and uncomprehending of what stands before him. With his skin on mine and his face so close, I almost buckle to the floor as something I’ve been missing these last few months crashes into me. Something only Court makes me feel.

“This position seems familiar,” I finally whisper, breaking the thick, tense silence.

“Y/N” Six mumbles, the very sound of my name coming from his lips making me shiver.

He shoves away from me instantly, taking steps back to put space between us. Six runs a hand over his jaw as his gaze sweeps over me, slowly and scrutinizingly in the way he was trained. Only his gaze doesn’t make me feel like a target, it makes me feel…undone. I see his eyes stick on my upper torso. The exact spot that bullet slammed into me all those months ago. A certain pain flashes through his gaze before, in an instant, his unfeeling and unyielding demeanor returns.

Only this time there’s a difference. I can visibly see the strain it takes to hide whatever emotions are running through him.

“I’m okay,” I manage out, shattering the silence between us. I mentally scold myself for the stupid and fumbling excuse for a first greeting, but I press on nonetheless.

Court nods, his face blank as his eyes pierce into mine, “What are you doing here?”

His words send a dagger of hurt slicing through my heart, but I try to ignore it. Instead, I gather my nerve and say what I came here to stay.

“You weren’t there when I woke up”

I intended the words to be bold, convicting, confident. It surprises even me when they instead come out nearly laying bare every inch of affliction burdening me. My words are quiet, but they hit Six so hard I see him flinch the slightest bit.

“I’m just glad you woke up,” Six averts, but his words ring with truth. I feel tears I knew would come but desperately hoped wouldn’t begin to prick behind my eyes.

“Why did you leave?” I ask directly. I’m done beating around the bush.

“Y/N, it’s not as simple as-”

“Why did you leave?” I repeat, my words stronger and trembling only slightly at the end. Six sighs, clenching his jaw before he manages a response.

“I had a job, I failed at that job. When that happens, that usually means you don’t have that job anymore.” He sounds almost automated, as if he’d memorized those words.

“That sounds pretty simple to me,” I shoot back, anger I hadn’t anticipated beginning to burn in my gut, “But I’m calling bullshit.”

There’s a moment of silence and I can tell from the shift in his gaze that he’s going to tell me the truth.

I just hope I’m prepared for what it means.

“It is-,” he stops abruptly, barely reacting except for the tightening of his jaw and the clenching of his fists before him as he tries again, “Was my job to protect you. I couldn’t do that when you were willing to put yourself in danger around me.”

“You left me because I made you incapable of doing your job correctly?” I exclaim, my tone incredulous.

“It’s not about the damn job!” Six suddenly outbursts, and I go silent immediately. I’ve only ever heard him raise his voice now twice.

And the first was when he saw blood pouring from my chest.

“Protecting you,” Six continues, his normal volume returned but his voice strained, “It goes beyond the job.”

I don’t seem to have a response for that one. I don’t need to find one either, because Six can’t stop himself from taking a step closer to me.

“You once asked me what I wanted,” He murmurs, and even though we’re a few feet apart the air is electric. “Well, what I want can’t be near me if all she’ll do is put herself between me and a bullet.”

I’m fairly certain that my brain short-circuits, because his words won’t process.

What he wants.

What he wants.

Me? He wants me?

“You mean you-”

But just as quickly as his emotion has exploded, it’s gone. Court’s face hardens and he turns around, walking off back to where he was before I broke in.

“Your new bodyguard is good. He’ll take care of you.”

"Wait, Six. I-"

"I've got a job to take care of here, so I probably won't see you or Claire again. Keep her safe for me." His voice is so monotone, so careless, so...so strained to make it that way. I watch in utter shock as he mills around his apartment, grabbing a phone and a gun as he clearly prepares to leave.

"Six, don't shut down like this. We need to talk about what you just said." I insist. He acts as though I haven't spoken at all.

"If you'll excuse me," Six says curtly, pulling a suit jacket on and brushing past me and towards the door to his apartment. A certain panic grips my chest so tightly that my legs nearly give out.

He can't leave me, not again. I can't lose him. I can't.

"Six, wait!" I exclaim, trailing him towards the door. He doesn't turn around, "Please, just talk to me."

Six makes it to the apartment door and swings it open. As he does, despair that threatens to suffocate me invades my chest. I'm slowly beginning to realize that this is it. He's going to walk out that door and everything that has happened in the time I've known him, everything he's become to me, will be over.

"Court, please. Don't leave me,"

Six freezes in his step, the door still in his grasp and his frame halfway through the opening. My heart slams into my throat, hope making it pick up its pace as he stands with his back to me, his body clearly heaving with breath.

"If you meant what you just said," I falter slightly, only slightly, before I throw all caution to the wind, "Then you have to know that I want you too, you have to know that. Shit, Court I more than want you. I-"

My words die as Six is suddenly moving, storming back into the apartment and slamming the door behind him. I stare with wide eyes as he suddenly approaches me, and the next thing I know his hands are cupping my face and his face is so close to mine that all thoughts leave me. His eyes search mine as he pauses, no emotions held back this time.

"This isn't safe for you," Court rasps. I can hardly focus as his eyes drop to my lips with a desire so strong in them that a shiver runs down my spine.

"I'm safest with you," I assure. Court shakes his head slightly, his thumb running across my cheek.

"You just had to go and say my name," He murmurs.

Then Court connects his lips to mine, and for the first time in my life I know what it is to live.

His lips move in perfect harmony with mine, his warmth overwhelming me and overheating me. His large, calloused hands on me are everything and not enough all at once and when one slips into my hair and tugs me closer, I know.

He is danger, he is the dark, he is everything I was warned about as a child. And he's the love of my life.

"No more jumping in front of bullets for me," Court orders once he pulls back. My lips twitch up slightly.

"No promises."

#courtland gentry #courtland gentry x reader #court gentry #court gentry x reader #court gentry x y/n #sierra six x reader #six x reader #sierra six x y/n #angst #fluff #the gray man #sierra six #whump #ryan gosling #oneshot #sierra six oneshot #courtland gentry oneshot #sierra six angst #sierra six x female reader

[onceuponastory]

save me - court gentry/sierra six x reader

Plot: When reader is kidnapped by Lloyd and his gang, Six comes to save her. Pairing: Sierra Six/Court Gentry (I use both names in this) x Female!Reader Warnings: 18+ Please! Mentions of death, kidnapping, violence, torture, graphic descriptions of blood and injury, weapons/guns, and shooting. Also Lloyd Hansen being a creepy POS. Notes: Look. I’ve always loved Ryan Gosling, even before I discovered Sebastian, and when I watched the Gray Man, I knew I had to write something for Six. If you have any requests for him please let me know!

Once again, not beta’d so any mistakes are my own.

Struggling against the zip ties binding her to the chair armrests, Y/N watches the men surrounding her, each with a large gun strapped to their belts. What felt like only less than an hour ago, she was walking home, her mind filled with boring things, like what she’s going to have for dinner or how her boyfriend is doing. And then, her life turned upside down, and she was snatched off the street. She fought back as hard as she could, but they still shoved her into the trunk of a car and drove away. And now she’s here, tied to a chair in what looks like some kind of fancy ass castle, with no sign of her boyfriend anywhere. Of course, despite how much he tries to hide it, she knows that danger comes with dating Court. After all, as a CIA assassin, he has a lot of enemies who want to do a lot of damage to them. 

Deep down, she always knew a day like this would come. When his other life would bleed into their domestic life together, and put them both at risk. Yet, despite the no doubt countless risks to her life, Y/N started ignoring them after a while. Of course it was stupid to ignore them, and she knows that now, but Court always promised that he’d keep her safe, and after all the years they had with nothing actually happening…Y/N believed him, and stopped thinking she was in danger.

Y/N’s eyes move around the room, looking for a potential escape route if she somehow gets out of here. They didn’t tie her legs to the chair, so she might be able to make it out. But she doesn’t have much hope. No doubt the men with guns will stop her before she gets to the door. As she sits there, awaiting her death, Y/N’s thoughts drift to Court, and where he is. Of course, she hopes that he knows where she is, and that he’s on his way to save her. Most of all though, she hopes he’s safe. She knows that Court’s more than capable of handling villains by himself, but these guys seem to be the very definition of armed and dangerous. Even if she doesn’t make it out here alive, she hopes that Court does.

Suddenly, the door opens, interrupting her thoughts. Y/N watches as a man enters. Whoever he is, he’s swearing about something, and he looks furious. And he definitely has questionable tastes in facial hair. But then, he lays eyes on her and grins, instantly switching off his rage. “Ah, you must be Y/N.” He pulls up a chair, sitting across from her. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Lloyd.”

“What do you want with me?” Lloyd doesn’t answer her question, and instead continues to watch her, his blue eyes studying her intently. Her blood chills. 

“You know, you are so beautiful. I can see what Six saw in you. Depending how things go, maybe we could grab some dinner after this.” He grins, causing her stomach to churn. When he gets no response, Lloyd huffs. “You do realise I’m giving you a compliment, right? You’re supposed to say thank you.”

“…Thanks.” She mumbles. 

“Sorry, what was that? You’re going to have to be a lot louder than that, sweetheart.” When she repeats herself, he grins. “Good girl. Now that we’re acquainted with each other, the fun can really start. Where’s your boyfriend?”

“I don’t know.” Lloyd sighs, tutting slightly.

“Not good enough. Where is he?” Y/N repeats her answer again, swearing that she has no idea where her boyfriend is to Lloyd’s continued questions. With every repeated insistence, Y/N can see him getting angrier, but she doesn’t know what else he’s expecting from her. After all, she’s telling him the truth. 

“What do you want with him, anyway?” She asks, watching Lloyd warily as he continues to stare at her, peering over at her like a shark watching its prey. 

“He has something that belongs to me.” He leans in close, tracing a finger along her jawline. When she shudders, he smirks. “So I’ve taken something that belongs to him for a fair trade. Hopefully, for your sake, he gets here soon.”

“Get the fuck away from me.” Y/N hisses. She tries to kick him with her free leg, but Lloyd dodges it. Immediately, someone grabs her shoulder, harshly pulling her back into the chair. 

“Oh, you’ve got some fire in you. I like that.” Lloyd smirks. “Just a shame it won’t do you any good.” Without another word, he raises his hand, striking her across the face hard. The sound reverberates across the room, as does Y/N’s cry of pain. Before she even has a chance to say something, another hit lands. Pain floods through her body, and Y/N bites her tongue hard to stop a cry from slipping out.

“Is that…the best you’ve got?” She asks, ignoring the blood running down her face. Lloyd laughs, an awful, cruel laugh that sends shivers down her spine. This man is a fucking maniac. 

“Oh…no, sweetheart. We’re just getting started.”

After some time, Lloyd finally relents on his attack on Y/N. Y/N winces, trying to move her body into a more comfortable position. The zip ties on her wrists are digging in, so much so she has to bite her cheeks to stop the pain as tears stream down her cheeks. Lloyd broke all her fingers in his attempt to extract the truth from her. She still held strong and continued to maintain the truth about Court’s location, but fuck, she’s in so much pain. The flow of blood has exacerbated, and even breathing and crying hurts now.

Suddenly, the sound of a ringtone cuts through the air. “What did I say about phones when I’m working?” Lloyd huffs. 

“I think it’s yours.” One of the armed men says. Lloyd’s eyebrow rises, and he finally stops his assault on Y/N. As he goes to answer it, the deep red of Y/N’s blood still staining his hand, Y/N lets out a breath of relief. It’s over. At least, for now.

“What the fuck?!” Lloyd’s anger fills her ears, and she jumps. “You’re supposed to be the best in the world at what you do, yet you can’t even handle one fucking man?” Y/N frowns for a moment, until the penny drops. 

Court. He’s here. Y/N’s thoughts are confirmed when Lloyd turns back to her, another creepy smile on his face. “Well. Looks like your Prince Charming is here, after all.”  Hope fills her every being as she imagines Court coming to save her. Yet, despite how hopeful she is, it’s overshadowed by her fear. She can see the cracks in Lloyd’s facade, and how his smile doesn’t meet his eyes. And despite everything Lloyd has done to her so far…seeing that look on his face makes her the most afraid she’s ever been. Lloyd’s a total sociopath, and he could do anything to Court. And it’ll probably be much, much worse than what he did to her. “I better give him a warm welcome.” 

“No. Stay away from him!” Y/N begs. Lloyd chuckles. 

“Sorry sweetheart. No can do.” Once more, he bends in close, lifting his hand to touch her once more. Fuelled by rage and fear, Y/N spits in his face, her blood spraying against his cheek. Even though she knows that it was a pretty badass thing to do, Y/N regrets it as soon as she does it. Lloyd isn’t the type of person you should piss off.

Lloyd doesn’t say anything, only seethes with anger. The silence is agonising the longer it goes on, and Y/N’s body chills as she wonders what he’s going to do next, and which body parts she’s about to lose. Suddenly, Lloyd starts laughing again. “Oh, you really shouldn’t have done that. And not just because I liked this shirt. If you’re sure you want my friends and I to kill you and your boyfriend, then so be it.” He shrugs, getting up and walking towards the door, gesturing for the armed men to follow him.

“No Lloyd, wait! Please!” Y/N screams, shouting after him. “Please don’t hurt him!”

“Too late, sweetheart. You’ve made your choice.” He announces. And then, he’s gone, and Y/N is alone.

Y/N sits in silence as she waits for someone, anyone, to return. Her entire body aches, but her fears for Court and his safety are even more painful. Of course, with a life like Court’s, Y/N always knew that a day might come when she loses him forever. But this is the first time she actually thought it would happen. And it scares the shit out of her. If he dies, what’s going to happen to her? Then again, she’s probably going to die too. Tears flow down her face once more. She isn’t ready for it to end. Not like this.

Suddenly, muffled gunshots sound from outside the room, and the hairs on the back of Y/N’s neck stand up. Whoever it is, they’re heading straight for her. As the doorknob turns, Y/N braces herself for what’s about to happen. However, to her surprise, and immense relief, the person who opens the door is who she least expects to see.

“Court?” she gasps. In what feels like a second, he’s by her side, trying to cut through the ties binding her wrists.

“Y/N, oh god. I’m sorry.” Suddenly, Y/N notices the amount of blood covering her boyfriend and staining his shirt. 

“W-What happened to you? Are you bleeding?” He doesn’t respond, which makes her even more worried. “Court!” She demands.

“I’m fine, I promise.” He finally replies. “Lloyd got me a few times, but it’s nothing I haven’t handled before. Just a little scratch.” She doesn’t believe him at first, yet before she can say anything else, her wrists are free, and Court takes her into his arms, squeezing her for dear life protectively. “It’s okay. Lloyd’s gone. I took care of him. You’re safe now. It’s over.” He whispers. As soon as she registers that she’s in his arms once more, the whole situation hits Y/N then, and she breaks down in tears once more. 

“I thought I’d never see you again.” She whimpers.

“Me too. But it’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m here.” He whispers, kissing every inch of her face and squeezing her tightly, as if he’ll never let go. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

“I love you.” She sobs. “So much.” 

“I love you too. Can you walk?” He asks. Nodding, Y/N takes a few steps, but stumbles a little. Without another word, Court wraps his arm around her, keeping her steady. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Come on. Let’s go home.”

#his arms are...so big. i want them to hold me #court gentry x reader #court gentry x you #court gentry x y/n #sierra six x reader #sierra six x you #sierra six x y/n #court gentry #sierra six #the gray man spoilers #the gray man #the gray man fanfic #the gray man fanfiction

[arrieebooks]

Sleep

Precious Weapon drabble after home theater.

Pairing : Sierra Six (Court Gentry) x F!OC x Mentions of Lloyd Hansen but he's a big part in this.

Summary : Her and Six's sleep routine almost every night. He talks to her about Lloyd while having his cock buried deep inside her.

Warnings : Comfort. Cockwarming. Anal. Fingering. Teasing. Dirty talk. Implied smut. Fluff.

Word count : 3k words. 

Author's note : This is a follow-up after the home theater drabble and it takes place the next night after. I love this so much because the way they could just carry out a casual, sweet conversation during a heated moment and it fits for them.

***

It's almost the same routine every night.

She gets ready for bed, changes into her favorite pajamas, turns on her TV and snuggles into her bed with Six.

But, sometimes, he fucks her to sleep. It's only for her comfort, though. Some nights, she can't sleep so he gladly helps her. He always gives her what she needs.

It's not every night. He's often too tired and she's usually already sleepy once she's comfortably tugged in his arms.

Tonight though, it was very different. He just came back from a late night mission with Lloyd and immediately showered in his own room so he could go to sleep in her bedroom.

Then, he quietly snuck into her bed only to find her already quietly asleep. She was sleeping peacefully, laying down flat with her hands resting on top of her stomach. She wasn't in her usual position since he wasn't here. She was too beautiful for his own good. It wasn't fair. He couldn't resist her. How could someone look so naturally perfect even when asleep? She's alluring to his eyes.

She stirs in her sleep, her head turning to the side while Six lays down beside her, spreading the blanket on him too. He doesn't want to wake her. But, he kind-of wants to, selfishly. He's been thinking of her the whole mission and all day. Especially after last night. When he saw her with Lloyd in the home theater. None of them said anything about it. He'd rather not either, but he can't deny that it was extremely hot and he couldn't stop thinking about it until now.

She rolls over to the other side of the bed and lays on her side, her back facing him. This was her usual sleeping position when he's with her. It's her comfiest. Her comfort position. His hands gently wrap around her torso as he shifts to press his body against hers from behind.

Subconsciously, her ass leans back on his crotch and she stirs in her sleep again. She whines softly, knitting her eyebrows as she realizes that he's finally home and he's right here, with her again. She could feel his hands on her body and hear his stable heartbeat.

She faintly smiles. "You're back." Elle whispers very softly but he could still hear her anyway.

Six looks down at her. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." he whispers soothingly.

"Did you want to, though?" she slowly asks.

"What?" Six softly asks, trying to figure out what she's saying.

"I can feel that you're hard, Court." she sleepily murmurs, mentioning his real name by accident.

Court frowns before looking down at his hard erection against her ass. "Sorry. Been thinking about you all day." he mutters in a low voice.

She hums in response. "I'm not wearing any panties. You can put it in now." she plainly whispers.

His jaw almost drops. "Were you waiting for me, baby?" Six sweetly asks her and he's already carefully removing her pajamas short, leaving her completely bare down there. She has never felt too vulnerable and weak with him because she trusts him a lot. She also feels safe and comfortable whenever she's with him.

She gasps softly when his large hand brushes against her bare thigh, getting close to her cunt but he doesn't touch her there. She manages to nod a little. "Mhm. But I got sleepy and fell asleep waiting for you." she answers.

He sighs, dropping his head to kiss her shoulder. "You shouldn't have to wait like that." Court mutters before stepping away from her to take his sweatpants and briefs out.

His cock springs out of it and he carefully slides his hard length inside of her hole from behind. He returns to her, sticking his body onto hers like glue. He stays quiet, biting back a grunt because it's how he is. He doesn't make that much sound. Not even when he's in pain.

She lets out a breathy moan, still very much sleepy. "Tell me how your day was. The mission," she murmurs.

He doesn't move, he just keeps it inside of her like usual. "It was eventful but shitty. Lloyd kind-of saved my life." he casually tells her.

And at the mention of his name, she subtly shifts her ass against his dick. He felt that and slightly frowned, knowing exactly why she did that. She's still thinking about that heated moment with Lloyd in their home theater. Weirdly enough, she hasn't even mentioned it to them yet even though she loves movies and they know it.

"Are you guys okay? No injuries?" Elle softly asks him, concerned.

Six quietly smiles at her. "We're good. Completely clean of any scars." he assures her.

She hums in response. "That's good."

His eyes slowly look down at her, his mind drifting to Lloyd again. "Are you thinking of him right now? It's okay if you are." Court gently whispers. His voice is soothing and affectionate but it also sparks something between her legs. She likes it when he's slightly in control. She lets him do it.

She chuckles through her nose. "I think I'm always somehow thinking of him." she admits truthfully.

Court hums softly, his fingers brushing along her hips and then down to her lower stomach, almost reaching her clit but he doesn't touch it. Instead, he takes her hand and guides it to her cunt.

"Touch yourself, baby." Six tenderly murmurs, still being sweet. He said the same thing Lloyd had said. Even though he didn't even hear him say exactly this.

She widens her eyes at his words, and last night's flashbacks with Lloyd start to play on her mind again. And she remembers every single detail. She has a strong memory. She doesn't know that Six knows what happened but it is still weird. Or does he? But how? He was calmly asleep when she got back into bed, all cleaned up. Or was he? He wasn't exactly in the same sleeping position when she came back.

She connected the dots way too quickly for someone who's half awake and cock drunk. "You know." she breathes out.

Six sighs in defeat. "Sorry. I thought it'd be awkward if I said anything." he apologizes.

She chuckles quietly. "It's not. It turns me on that you're talking about it right now. When you're inside me." she shamelessly admits.

He hums softly. "We can talk about him more if you like." he offers, his hand leaving hers to rest on her cunt herself. He still wants her to touch herself. He wants to see her come apart just by the touch of her own hand. He wants to watch. Every second of it. Just like what he watched last night.

She nods slowly. "What'd you feel last night?" she asks him.

Court breaks into a light chuckle and he smiles against her shoulder. "Hard as a rock, Elle." he immediately answers.

She smiled and he could hear it. "You could've joined us." she says.

"No, I wanted you guys to have a one-on-one for once. You guys deserve it. After everything that happened." Six tells her, honestly and she hums, agreeing with him.

She leans back against his chest. "We didn't do a lot, though. The whole thing was a little weird. He couldn't sleep so he watched porn on our newly discovered home theater. I walked into him when I overheard weird noises. I thought it was an intruder." she explains, calmly.

"I thought so too that's why I woke up and went looking for the source of the noise." Six adds, his hand coming back to her hand that's still on her cunt but she hasn't touched herself yet. "Please, baby, touch yourself." he begs softly, she almost didn't hear him. He has never begged before. It's turning her on even more.

She quickly nods, her fingers prodding her clit with his hand still on top of hers, following her every movement. He can't see anything in the dark but he could still hear and feel everything. "Did you like it, though?" he asks her.

She moans softly. "Yeah, it was hot. We've never done anything like that before. I mean, we did a few kinky things but not like that. It was different." she admits.

His hand guides hers to insert one of her own fingers inside of her core. "How are things with him usually?" Court asks.

She sighs softly, his hand brushing around her clit. "He's rough with me only when I tell him to. He's mostly in charge but he always listens to me all the time. Never pushed my limits before. We try a lot of new things together." she answers.

His hand stops what he was doing. Suddenly, she could feel his dick growing harder inside of her and she moaned again. "Do you want us… to try something different? I only want what you want the most, Elle. I want you to feel good." Six seriously offered her.

She frowns, turning her head around to face him and their eyes finally meet, even in the darkness. Her free hand cups his jaw as he's still focused gazing at her pretty, dark eyes. "Hey, Court, you're enough for me. Way more than enough, actually. You don't have to do the exact same thing he does with me. I like you for who you are already." she assures him, softly.

Court nods, giving her forehead a kiss. "I know, baby. We could always try it, though." he mutters.

She cocks her head to the side before breaking into a soft smile and realizing something. "Oh. You want to do it because of him. He gets you hard, too, doesn't he?" she whispers and she can't stop smiling at him.

Six is speechless. He knew she didn't read his mind but there was never a point of hiding anything from her because they know each other too well. He's an unreadable man, but she can crack him and figure him out in a second. And, he allowed her to. He willingly opened himself up for her to crack. He trusts her so much with his life. She's the only one who really knows him and is still alive.

"I—don't know what to say about that." Court barely says to her, staring down at her gleaming eyes through the darkness.

She smiles again and he wishes he could capture her smile to keep with him forever. He enjoys these little moments with her and it's the only purest thing in his life. He wants to savor her and never let her go from his arms because he truly needs her. He never needed anything so badly before — never even knew it was possible to need something so strongly like this.

She's also right about Lloyd. He'd never been this intimate and close with anybody. This whole thing with her had made them closer. They have a rare bond. He slowly learned to grow fond of him. Six admired Lloyd, simply because they had gone through almost the same thing in their life and still survived. He found himself liking his stupid jokes. He's damn good at his job like he is. He always knows how to calm Lloyd, somehow. He got to know him — the real him, the one he doesn't show to anyone else but them. He's not as tough and scary as he thinks he is. He can be soft and vulnerable.

She cups his jaw as her thumb strokes his skin. "It's okay, you can tell me. Tell what really makes you hard, Court." she sweetly tells him.

Court tucks her hair under her ear and kisses her nose. "You. Everything that you do. Last night, seeing you with him, jerking off to each other was really hot to watch. And I thought watching was more of Lloyd's thing." he bluntly confesses.

She nods. "Me too. At first, I only watched him jerk off but then I offered to touch myself for encouragement. So, we ended up doing it together." she explains softly.

With that, something in him switched. Six pushes another finger of hers to go inside of her cunt and she moans louder as his cock goes deeper in her ass. This was different for them. They usually just put it in, have a conversation and eventually fall asleep together. Lloyd is the reason their sex life is getting a little bit spicier than usual.

"He came all over you, right? I saw that too, Elle. He made quite a mess on you." Six gently remarks as she buries her head against the pillow, overwhelmed by all of it. She's not used to him being like this but she's not complaining either. She is enjoying every second of this.

She exhales before lifting her head to talk. "Yeah, he did. Fuck, you really should've just joined us. It would've been really fucking amazing. You could've jerked off beside me and came all over me, too." she breathlessly says, telling him what she actually wants.

Court breaks into a chuckle from behind her. "We could try it next time. But, for now, I want you to keep touching yourself and don't stop, okay? We can stop anytime if you want, though. Just let me know, baby." he whispers directly into her ears.

She nods into her pillow, two of her fingers slowly pumping in and out of each other as his hand follows her every movement. She has muscle memory now because of last night. If every night is going to be just like this, then she doesn't even want to leave the penthouse anymore. This is her home already now, their home. They wished they could just stay here forever and live inside tiny moments like this one. It's exclusive. Private. Special. And they wouldn't trade anything else in the world for this.

After a few minutes, her eyes start to feel heavy and her hands pull out of her soaking core. She is turned on by this, but she's more relaxed than ever so now she's gotten sleepy. Because usually, they do this before bed to make her fall asleep. She lets out a tired sigh, "Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm so sleepy and—"

Six cuts her off before she starts apologizing too much. "Hey, Elle, it's okay. You can stop. Go back to sleep, okay? We still have tomorrow and the other tomorrow." he assures her sweetly, his free hand turning her chin around to make her look at him.

Her eyes meet his blue ones again and she faintly smiles. "I love that you're so understanding and caring for me." she barely says.

He chuckles softly, looking down at her eyes. "Yeah, I wasn't like that before. Before you." he truthfully admits.

Her smile widens, her hand reaching out to cup his jaw. "Aw, you're so fucking poetic. Come and kiss me," she playfully says and he immediately leans down to kiss her lips tenderly.

Court laughs softly at her remark, pulling his lips away from her. "It is true, you know. I've never done most of the things we do with anyone else before. You're very fucking precious to me, Elle. I need you to know that." he whispers to her, holding her soft face between both of his large hands.

She snorts, giving his lips a quick peck. "I know. I mean, now I know. Okay, I'm slurring my words, I'm gonna go back to sleep." she announces, slumping her head back against her pillow and she's turned away from him again. But they both don't mind it because they can feel each other really close, can hear each other's heartbeat and he has still a part of him inside of her.

"Do you still want to keep it in or do you want me to pull it out now?" Six asks her about his cock still buried deep inside of her hole. He always puts her needs before himself. He could care less about anything else in the world but her. He could take a little pain for her, it's not a big deal for him. She's the only one that matters.

She whimpers softly, shaking her head against the pillow. "No, keep it in, it's okay. We can pull it out in the morning. If that's okay with you." she softly answers.

Court nods, planting a kiss on her shoulder. "More than okay, Elle. We can do that." he gently replies.

She hums in response, adjusting her head to get more comfortable. "Good night, Court. Dream of me." she sleepily whispers.

He smiles softly. "I definitely will, don't worry. Good night, baby. Wake me up if you have another nightmare, okay? I don't mind it at all." Court sweetly murmurs to her, kissing her cheek from behind. He's the only one who can calm her after a horrible nightmare.

She simply nods, grabbing his large arm to pull him closer as he rests it on her stomach and her hands hold his, as usual. He leans his body against hers to settle in better before leaning his head back on her pillows, smelling the familiar scent of her. Her long hair brushes against his nose and he inhales her smell. He's been addicted to it since day one.

They both close their eyes together, slowly relaxing at each other's touch. Within a few seconds, they're already drifting to sleep at the same time. Dreaming of clouds and sunshine. Their heartbeats almost matches. Calm and tranquil.

At times like this and in peaceful moments like these, nothing else matters but them. It feels like the world froze and they're the only ones alive. Just them. And, Lloyd.

They're never leaving him out of the equation. He's stuck with them now. For good.

#sierra six #sierra six x reader #court gentry #court gentry x reader #court gentry x y/n #sierra six x y/n #the gray man #court gentry x female reader #court gentry x you #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x reader #chris evans fanfiction #ryan gosling #the gray man fanfiction #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x ofc #lloyd hansen x honey #lloyd hansen x fic #lloyd hansen x innocent!reader #sierra six smut #sierra six x you #sierra six x female reader

[slutforsilverfoxes]

OH MY GOD can you please write sierra six smut i will literally pay you

Here at the house of slutforsilverfoxes, your pleasure is our payment 🫡

A/N: I am so sorry this took 84 years to write but I hope it lives up to expectations. I rewatched the movie for the third (!) time last night and this man makes me absolutely feral. I hope y'all enjoy 🥰

Tags: @buckysboobs

___

You strolled rather leisurely down the streets of Prague, admiring the orange hues painting the sky from the setting sun, the slight spice of smoke and cannabis pervading your senses and reminding you of home. Or rather, what you once considered home. Did people in your field really have a place they called home?

Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you deftly hopped over the wrought iron fence of your target's overly expensive mansion, making quick work of the hedge maze you had memorized the night before courtesy of aerial recon. You watched from the shadows at the entrance to the maze as, like clockwork, the evening protective detail swooped in to replace the day team. You had told Denny you'd take this op under one condition: the target's wife and child had to be out of the country. Less guards, less collateral. You may have given up your life and body to the CIA, but you would cling to your own perverse sense of morality until your dying breath.

Even if you were still tying up loose ends from the shitstorm Denny and Suzanne had let wreak havoc across Europe over a year ago.

Approaching the measly crew guarding the maze under the cloak of falling night, you slipped your trusty weapon from its holster, screwed on the silencer, and fired two shots within the span of mere seconds, the sound of thudding bodies overlapping as the guards dropped lifelessly to the pristinely trimmed grass. Confident that the coast was clear and the rest of the protective detail were at their stations inside the mansion, you glided across the expansive yard, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at the cursive letter mowed into the lawn. You would never grow used to the hubris of men like this target, who wanted to remain quiet oligarchs but lived in the biggest houses with the most ostentatious gardens and obnoxious (read: ugly) artwork and enough money to brand their grass with the first letter of their last names.

Perhaps you were bitter, or perhaps they were compensating. Creeping along the exterior of the house, you decided both scenarios were equally likely.

A curse fell from your lips as the lights went out, cloaking you in complete darkness. Snagging the windowsill above you, you pulled yourself up to see that the interior lights were out as well, save for a measly glow in the nearby hallway presumably powered by a generator. You could hear shouting in the distance, your target’s security detail assessing the impending threat and gathering to protect the man who signed their paychecks.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end alerting you to a presence at your six. Either this person was shit at their job or they were a friendly. Letting your body drop to the ground as you whipped around, you hissed out, "Who are you?," gun trained on the spot dead center between a pair of striking eyes that, had you not been working an op, would’ve stolen the very breath from your lungs.

"That’s a loaded question. Who are any of us real-"

The man merely blinked as a bullet whizzed by his ear. Glancing at the chunk of wall gouged out inches from his face and then back at you, the ghost of a smirk flitted past his features. "So I should change our relationship status to It’s Complicated I take it."

"It’s only fair for me to inform you that I don’t give second chances. Who are you?"

"Consider me the cavalry. I support you on this op, you get the collar, take the credit, we never see each other again. Job well done by all parties considered."

You cocked your head to one side, your gun mimicking the angle. "You’re Sierra." It was a statement, not a question.

"Once upon a time," he conceded nonchalantly. Realization dawned on you and your eyes flashed with recognition. Sierra Six. The silent assassin. The Gray Man. Every agent had heard whispers of his infamy despite the fact that the Sierra program, let alone the man standing before you in the flesh, simply did not exist.

"They let you back in this city after the international stunt you pulled last time?" you asked wryly, one eyebrow raised.

"You think they know I’m here? You wound me." He had an easy way about him that was equal parts unsettling, given your shared line of work and his supposed nonexistence, and incredibly attractive. "So now that we've been acquainted-"

"Hardly," you interjected with a slight smirk of your own.

"-what's your plan to breach, Agent Y/L/N?"

"You’ve done your homework," you nodded appreciatively, your playful banter coming to a dead halt as his words soberly reminded you of the task at hand: assassinate the target, collect the drive, and eliminate anyone standing in the way of priorities one and two.

You explained the layout of the mansion to him, detailing the number of entries and exits, hidden corridors, and possible ambush sites. Deciding that you would begin in the east wing and gradually make your way across the mansion, Six eased his magazine into his semi-automatic with a satisfying click as you slid your knife out to play.

The two of you approached the nearest entryway, your back to his as he expertly picked the lock. The door swung open with a soft creak and you tapped his shoulder twice to signal you were ready to breach. "I’ve got your six," you muttered, trying and failing to hide your cheeky tone.

He threw a look over his shoulder and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face at his silent confirmation of your earlier deduction before you followed him down the hall, light on your feet.

You moved in a silent dance, perfectly choreographed without having to so much as make eye contact, his movements sharp, yours fluid, his bullets flying, your knife singing. It was complementary and harmonious and downright beautiful how your bodies morphed into a single killing machine. Within minutes, you had reached the opposite end of the villa and effectively incapacitated the entire peripheral security detail. Crossing back into the heart of the building, you flanked the large wooden doors leading to the massive study, your target’s home headquarters and his current hiding spot from the mayhem.

Swiping the flat of your blade across your thigh to remove the evidence of your previous triumphs, you smiled at your impromptu partner. "Ready for round two?"

He shot you a wink in response. "Let’s get loud."

The doors simultaneously flew open with a bang as your feet made contact with the heavy oak. A series of shouts, muzzle flashes, and expertly placed cuts later, your first task was complete.

Nonchalantly stepping over the bodies littering the floor, you asked, "So what inspired you to leave the glorious Cunt Incapacitators Anonymous?" You snapped a picture of your recently departed target for your employers’ confirmation, thumbs flying across the screen to encrypt the image.

Six quirked an eyebrow at you, the corner of his mouth imperceptibly matching its angle in amusement. "You’ve gotta workshop that one, kid."

"You understood what I meant so it’s not that bad," you rolled your eyes. "And don’t dodge the question."

"Palm trees," he answered simply, rifling through paperwork scattered across the desk before you.

You huffed in annoyance at his measured response. "Seriously? Clearly you haven’t retired."

"What is this, Y/L/N, twenty questions?" The rebuke was enough to have your mouth sheepishly snapping shut. "I’ll check his body while you scan the furniture."

"Hey," you grabbed his wrist as he reached for the breast pocket of the target’s suit, the juxtaposition of the rough fabric of his glove and his surprisingly soft skin sending a jolt of electricity through your body, "don’t forget this is my op. You’re the self-proclaimed cavalry."

He stepped away from the body with his arms out in front of him, "We’ll switch then, Your Highness."

You offered a satisfied nod before beginning your thorough search, unfurling pockets, checking for custom made hiding spots, patting down to feel for items tucked away from plain sight and prying eyes.

"Unremarkable on my end," you called out. "Got a fancy pen that’s probably worth more than I have in savings, some mints, and a family picture," you dumped the items on the desk in front of you as you listed them.

"Didn’t peg him for the sentimental type," Six shrugged, popping up from his evidently uneventful search of the drawers. "No false bottoms here, either. Where next, my liege?"

"Oh, shut the fuck up," your eyes rolled on instinct to join your biting comeback, missing the way his jaw ticked in response to your bratty display. Following the deceased’s line of sight to a painting on the wall opposite his desk, a catlike grin spread across your face as you stalked towards the art. "Only one painting in this big ass room? Rookie mistake." You turned back to Six and dramatically swiped at the frame behind you. "Is there a safe? There’s a safe, isn’t there?"

The sliver of moonlight streaming through the window offered you a glimpse of what you presumed to be a visage of respect.

"Don’t be too impressed, I do have three years of this under my belt," you teased, attaching a device to the electronic lock that offered hassle free entry.

"Three years? You’re like, twelve."

"I know you’ve read my dossier," you retorted as you triumphantly pulled the drive from the safe and placed it in a special containment setup with a faraday cage, "and I know you know I’m twenty-five."

"That’s quite the talent, managing to make me feel old in a mere four syllables."

You turned to answer him and felt your breath catch in your throat as you looked up to find his sharp gaze trained on you. With the small bit of light the moon was offering, you could see now that he had several fresh cuts and scrapes dotting his cheeks and chin, a deeper gash on his forehead. Had he come straight from another op to help you? Swoon. Physically shaking your head to keep that train of thought at the station, you let the playful lilt return to your voice, coming off much more grounded than you felt at present. "Well it’s nice to see you can still move, old timer."

You both turned to the floor-to-ceiling windows of your target’s study at the sound of approaching sirens interrupting your banter, faint blue lights dancing across the floor. "I’m guessing getting arrested by the Czech police isn’t covered in your exfil, Y/L/N."

"How astute of you, Six," you snorted, moving to the adjacent bookcase and running your fingers along its shelving for a hidden latch. "Come to think of it, should I still call you that?"

"You get us out of here without the Hansen special of blowing up half the city, you can call me anything you like."

Smiling triumphantly, you tugged on the bookcase and revealed a hidden hallway. "Anything?"

Your eyes widened as a glint of metal whistled past your face into the dark hallway behind you, just shy of the apple of your cheek. Turning, you found your knife- when had he taken it from the strap on your thigh?- embedded in the forehead of the last guard standing whose hands were still raised in a width that you suspected matched that of your neck. "Nearly gave me a haircut there," you joked, bending down to wrench your blade out before returning it to its rightful sheath on your dominant leg.

"Nah," he gently tugged at a strand framing your face, "it’s nice at this length."

A faint blush dusted your cheeks at the unexpected compliment and you were suddenly very grateful that Six had cut the power earlier.

You cleared your throat and stepped into the cramped tunnel, "So revisiting this whole ‘Anything’ concept before we were so rudely interrupted…"

He shrugged easily in response, following you into the dark space before swinging the fake door closed behind you, the inky black darkness swallowing you both immediately and blocking out the heavy footfalls infiltrating the mansion. "What can I say," his smooth voice oozed over your skin like warm honey, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine, "I like a bit of adventure in my life. Don’t you?"

"Six," his pseudonym tumbled from your lips in a whisper. You couldn’t see a thing in the pitch black tunnel, but your every sense was heightened to his presence. His smell. His stature. The power radiating off of him that had the air positively crackling with charged energy, a current flowing between your bodies just daring one of you to act on it.

So you did.

Down there in the dark, the full force of the Czech police mere feet away from you cordoning off the crime scene, you kissed the Sierra Six like you were drowning in an endless ocean and he was beckoning you up to the surface, up to the light. Your hands snaked their way into his blonde locks as his fingers pressed into your hips, backing you up, deftly stepping over the guard’s limbs until you crashed against the crude tunnel wall, his mouth greedily swallowing down your moans.

Feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen and his heady kiss, you reluctantly pulled back to suck some air into your lungs. His forehead pressed against yours, warm breath fanning over your face, arms protectively locked around you. "Can we- Should we- ugh," you groaned softly at your own hesitation. Your body count was more along the lines of murder than sex, and a sudden bout of nerves trapped the words in your mouth until you felt gentle pressure against your hips, spurring you on. "Can we spend the night somewhere, pretend to be normal people for once?"

"Like we didn’t just commit multiple counts of homicide?"

You merely grunted in response, taking his remark to be a rebuff of your offer.

"Hey," he laughed softly, gently removing your dominant hand from his hair and shaking it in his own. "I’m Court." His voice had a harshness to it as he said his name- his real name- aloud for quite possibly the first time in years.

You pressed your lips back against his, your mouths curving upward in twin smiles. Barely pulling away from him, you offered in kind, "Y/N."

———

You leaned leisurely against the doorway of the small hotel bathroom, arms crossed as you drank in the sight of Six-no, Court- shirtless, scrubbing the blood of the day from his palms and underneath his fingernails. You could think of no better word to describe him than beautiful, his blonde locks catching the light just so, his big, broad, purely masculine shoulders tensed with the weight of the day, the muscles in his arms rippling with the repetitive movements, the artwork adorning his upper body, the light smattering of hair along his abs that teased you with the promise of more beauty to unearth just below. He was a brute, an expert killing machine, a wall of pure muscle, yet goosebumps erupted over your skin at the memory of his gentle hands caressing your curves in the darkness during your hidden tryst.

His gaze met yours through the mirror and heat bloomed across your cheeks knowing that you had been caught blatantly ogling his body. But then his eyes scanned from head to toe and back again, systematically assessing your figure, clad in only shorts and a sports bra after your post-mission shower, in the dim hotel light. His lips, still a shade darker than their normal tint from your earlier assault, quirked upwards in a smile- you were even now.

You watched as he plucked his previously discarded shirt from the countertop and ran it under the faucet before wringing it out and bringing it to his face to address his most recent wounds. Pushing yourself off the doorframe, you ran your fingers along the mottled pink flesh on his shoulder, following in their wake with butterfly kisses. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you reached into the shelf beneath the sink and pulled out a fresh towel. His eyes tracked your every move as you draped the fabric over his hand and instructed, "Use this like a civilized human being."

"What part of this," his eyes flitted down to his body decorated with scars and a rainbow of bruises, "says civilized?"

You merely chuckled in response, relenting and tossing the towel aside before hopping up to perch on the sink counter. You slipped his black tee from between his fingers and delicately touched the cloth to the inch-long gash on his forehead as he smiled down at you, amused. "What?" you mumbled, tongue peeking out between your lips as you concentrated intently on cleaning the wound without applying too much pressure.

"I can’t remember the last time someone took care of me like this." His voice was low, almost haunted, and you found yourself wondering which tragic backstory the CIA had plucked him from. Collecting kids from broken homes or prison seemed to be their preferred modus operandi.

"When’s the last time you let them?" you challenged softly, daring to sneak a peek at his stormy grey-blue eyes and finding them already trained on you.

His nimble fingers, roughened by callouses from years of grueling combat, gently wrapped around your wrist, dwarfing your hand in his. He moved your arm from its spot between the two of you, then released your wrist and let his thumb come up to rub over your bottom lip as you splayed your hands across the taut muscles of his back, closing your eyes and trying to memorize the hard planes of his body.

"Court," you breathed out, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the sound of his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Not Six, not Agent, not You’ll Kill Who I Tell You To Kill Because That’s All You’re Good For, but Court. No one had ever said his name like that before.

Your nails gently scraped down the stubble dotting his cheeks and his eyes flew open. "You still with me?"

He nodded almost imperceptibly before surging forward to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his teeth tugging harshly along your bottom lip and eliciting a wanton moan from the very depths of your soul. For the second time that night, your arms wound around his neck to pull him closer to your body, fisting your hands in his hair as you shamelessly rutted against his quickly hardening length. His hands slipped under the curves of your ass, lifting you off the countertop and massaging your flesh through the thin fabric of your shorts as he walked you to the bed before gently laying you across the mattress. He stood at the edge of the bed, his glistening chest rising and falling as he watched your mirrored breaths almost reverently. You beckoned him down to you and he kneeled in the space between your legs, ever so slowly lowering his head to press kisses along your stomach. Gradually moving upward, he paused at your sports bra, tucking his fingers into the elastic band. "Can I-"

"Please," you cut him off with a whine, desperate to feel the roughness of his beard against your sensitive skin. The fabric was up and over your head within seconds, his mouth working on one breast while his hand massaged the other before the soft thud could even alert you that your clothing had landed on the other side of the room. The feeling of his lips and teeth and tongue and beard was absolutely sinful, causing you to involuntarily arch up into him and gasp at the size of him.

"Now I see why you’re so casual with big guns," you mused with a grin, your comment causing him to pause in his ministrations and smirk up at you.

"You handle them pretty well yourself," he countered, thumb lazily brushing over your nipple.

"Yeah but," you pushed at his shoulders until he fell onto his back beside you, offering you leverage above him, "I like my knife," you flicked open the button of his pants, "because it offers," you pulled the zipper down, slipping your hand inside to stroke his cock, "close contact."

"Fuck," he hissed out between gritted teeth, the single syllable causing liquid heat to pool between your thighs. You slid back off the bed and tugged his pants and boxers down with you, sitting up on your knees to press kisses against his thighs. Leaning up on his elbows, he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and shook his head. "You don’t have to-"

With a quick swipe of your tongue, you stole the words from his mouth. "Consider it a thank you," you muttered between kisses along his length before taking him fully in your mouth.

The strangled groan that left his lips was raw and guttural and quite possibly the most incredible sound you had ever heard. You wanted to hear it over and over again, so you hollowed your cheeks and took him even deeper until the tip of his cock was pressing against the back of your throat. He growled out your name as you eased back up, gentle and torturous, heaven and hell. You gradually worked your way up to a steady pace, one hand coming up to stroke the base of his cock, the other scratching lines into his thighs as he shivered under your touch. You could easily overpower a man twice your weight and a foot taller than your small stature, but nothing would ever make you feel as powerful as reducing this archetype of masculinity to putty in your hands.

You felt his fingers work their way into your hair, gently tugging you off of his cock. You sat back with a whine and he simply winked in response, moving to switch spots with you. He slid your shorts and panties off your legs before gently taking one foot in his hands to kiss your ankle, his beard deliciously scraping against your skin as he worked his way up your calf until your knee was hooked over his shoulder. You arched your hips upward, hoping to entice him to put his mouth where you so desperately needed his attention, but he placed one firm hand against your stomach, holding you down, taking his own sweet time working his way towards your core, your eyes fluttering shut at the onslaught of sensation.

"Y/N," he growled softly, deep voice bringing you out of your reverie. You picked your head up to find his gaze locked on yours, the sight of his lust blown pupils and reddened lips causing your breath to come out in sharp pants. "Eyes on me."

Your mouth fell open emitting a high pitched keen at the command seconds before his tongue slipped past your folds, forcing you to bite your lip to stay alert and obey him. "Fuck, Court," you moaned unabashedly, fisting your hand in his hair and trying to bring him impossibly closer.

"That’s my good girl," he praised softly as his fingers replaced his tongue and his lips moved to suck on your clit, the heady combination of his words and the way he was expertly working your body causing you to clench around him. The pads of his fingers gently massaged your walls as his tongue swirled around your sensitive bundle of nerves, your fingers sharply tugging at his short strands of hair in response to his assault of your senses. You called out his name in a whine as the familiar promise of ecstasy bloomed in your lower stomach, your legs beginning to shake with the pressure of trying to hold back your impending orgasm.

"Stop fighting it," he mumbled against your clit, the rumbling vibration of his voice sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. "You’re safe with me, you can let go." A single tear trickled out of the corner of your eye at the intensity of it all and the force of his words; you couldn’t remember the last time you had let your body relax, let your muscles unwind, let yourself simply feel.

You released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, and Court allowed his thumb to take over for his mouth so he could kiss you freely. Maintaining a steady pace with his fingers as his thumb languidly circled your button, he brought his other hand up to grip your chin, swallowing down your moans as you scraped your nails along his back and finally gave yourself permission to let go.

Stars exploded behind your eyes and you pulled back to catch your breath as Court gradually slowed his movements, drawing out your orgasm. Cupping his cheeks between your hands, you pulled him down so you could trail your teeth up his throat and along his jaw, ending with a searing kiss. 

Letting your leg slide off his shoulder, you patted the space next to you to indicate he should lie down. The head of his cock brushed against your still sensitive pussy as he shifted his weight back and you whimpered at the contact. Unwilling to wait any longer, you straddled his lap and ground your hips down against his as soon as he was settled, his thick cock easily sliding through your slick folds. "Y/N," he gritted out, curling his fingers around your throat and squeezing ever so lightly causing your eyelids to flutter shut, "don’t tease."

You lifted your hips just enough to guide the head of his cock to your entrance, then lowered yourself inch by inch, allowing your body to adjust to his size. Your head fell back, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut at the exquisite stretch, just on the border between pain and pleasure. You rested your palms against Court’s pecs, grounding yourself in reality and feeling his hands come up to cover your own. He squeezed your hands gently and you opened your eyes to find his locked on yours, his cheeks flushed, lips parted letting out soft pants of air. Beautiful.

The blush decorating his cheeks darkened and he mumbled, “You think so?”

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled in response, the vibration rumbling from his chest through his body to where you were intimately connected, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath at the sensation.

You leaned down to kiss each of his tattoos, then his burn marks, then his scars, and finally his lips as you lifted your hips before dropping back down, slipping your tongue into his mouth as he moaned.

His lips curved upward in a smile at your little power play which ended as soon as his fingers worked their way around your throat once more. He swallowed your high pitched whine as he won the battle for dominance, mapping out the sensitive areas of your mouth as he planted his feet on the bed and rocked his hips up against you. His grunts and your mewling blanketed the sound of skin slapping skin as you met him beat for beat, his heart steadily thrumming under your fingertips as you clawed at his chest.

His pace became almost brutal as he fucked up into you, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. For once, you welcomed the bruises that you would no doubt wake up to tomorrow.

"Court," you panted, feeling him twitch inside you and sensing that he was close, "I want you to cum inside me."

"Y/N-" he began protesting, ever the gentleman despite the way he was absolutely ravaging your body.

"Please," your voice caught as his head brushed against your cervix, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Remind me that we’re still human, that we still have feelings," you begged, leaning down to mark his neck so that he, too, would have a reminder of you in the days to come.

Your teeth grazed against his pulse point, causing his hips to stutter and pushing him over the edge as he called out your name, his hand splaying across your belly so that his thumb could rub your clit and send you hurtling into oblivion right behind him.

You kept your hips moving as you kissed him again, neither of you wanting or willing to move.

He brushed your hair back from your sweaty forehead, smiling at you as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck. "Was that enough feeling or do you need more? Cause we’ve got all night."

You snorted out a laugh against his skin, his fingers trailing along your spine and his warm chuckle like a blanket on a cold winter’s night.

Not one to back down from banter you countered, "Give me some more feeling and I’ll make a shirt- I survived sex with Sierra Six!"

"Smartass."

"I win," you hummed contentedly, running your nails along his beard as you pressed gentle kisses to his jaw.

Your phone buzzed nearby followed by a string of incessant notifications on his own device, effectively breaking your spell. With his lips against your forehead he mumbled sadly, "Duty calls."

You checked your new assignments and dressed in silence, the two of you slinging your go bags over your shoulders before walking to the door. He stopped with his fingers on the handle, catching you by surprise with one last sweet kiss. You let your thumb trace along his lips, committing them to memory before you both crossed the threshold of your sanctuary, returning to the real world.

After parting ways at the end of the hall, you abruptly turned on your heel and called out, "Court?"

He looked over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, eyebrow raised in question.

"What if I need my cavalry again?"

His eyes lit up and his mouth morphed into a familiar smirk. "I’ll find you."

"I could be halfway across the world tomorrow, how will you even know where to look?"

"Trust me, I’ll find you."

Satisfied with his response, you indulged in a smile. "Be careful out there, old timer."

He winked at you in return. "Make sure to watch your Six."

#sierra six #sierra six smut #sierra six x reader #sierra six x y/n #sierra six x you #court gentry #courtland gentry #court gentry x reader #court gentry x y/n #court gentry x you #courtland gentry x reader #courtland gentry x y/n #the gray man #court gentry smut #court gentry x female reader #Sierra six x female reader #assassin!reader #agent!reader

[writing-wh0re]

bestie I’m feeling like Lloyd and Six fighting over reader but in a smutty way you know??? please??😩😍

All writings will be #writing-wh0re-requests

Pairing: Sierra Six - Court Gentry x reader / Lloyd Hansen x Reader (kind of)

Word Count: 2310k

Warnings: Smut 18+, Explicit Language, Slight Praise Kink, Vaginal Intercourse, Unprotected Sex, Angst(?), Jealousy, Semi Public Car Sex.

A/N: I'm kinda back, kinda not. Sorry my posting has 0 schedule and is super random, but I hope you love this!

As a kid I never thought about a life where I would have to live mission to mission and in dodgy hotel rooms.

But it’s just how my life ended up.

“Miss, your drink.”

I snap out of my thoughts, looking up at the bartender as I smile, grabbing the drink from his grasp.

I look around the room discreetly locking eyes with Lloyd Hansen, his eyes racking up my body taking in how the red silk hugs my figure.

I raise the glass to my lips, flicking my eyes away from Lloyd.

“I’ve got his attention.” I whisper against my glass, flicking my eyes around the room looking for Sierra six.

‘Good girl.’ Butterflies erupt inside of me at the praise.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’re all alone.” His voice is raspier than I expected, a tingle running up my spine, oh no.

I smile at Lloyd, quickly downing my drink causing him to raise an eyebrow.

“Bartender! Another for the lady.” Lloyd says holding up my empty glass.

“You dont have to do that.”

“I insist.” Lloyd whispers looking me up and down.

Blush heats up my face, my mind fighting against itself.

‘Is that blush I see?’ Court’s voice whispers in my ear as I feel my mouth go dry.

“What’s a man like you doing in a place like this?”

Lloyd chuckles, his head falling back slightly.

The bartender places my drink down in front of me, tipping his head toward me before rushing to other paterons.

“I find it hard to believe you don’t know who I am.”

I raise an eyebrow as I sip my drink.

‘Be careful.’ Court whispers as Lloyd looks over in Court’s direction, Court’s seat now empty. I release a breath, thankful for his disappearance.

Lloyd leans in closer to me, his lips against my ear.

“It’s easy to spot a Sierra, especially when there’s two.”

‘Bathroom.’ Court whispers.

“I’m sorry?” I was shocked.

Lloyd licks his lips, a wicked smirk on his face.

“Dumb doesn’t look good on you.”

“Excuse me.”

I slip off the bar stool quickly rushing away from Lloyd, feeling his presence behind me.

“Six, where are you?” I whisper, rushing down the hallway to the bathrooms.

I look behind me, my stomach dropping at the sight of Lloyd pushing through the crowd.

My body runs into something, rather someone. His cologne hits me before I look up, my body relaxing against him.

Court’s eyes quickly looked over me, studying me as if Lloyd had hurt me.

Lloyd chuckles, his hands resting behind his back, eyes dark.

“Sierra Six, or should I call you by your real name?”

Court’s grip on my hip tightens as he pushes me behind him slightly. Does he seriously forget that I’m an assassin?

Court scoffs rolling his eyes, his hold never loosening on my body.

“Why don’t we keep this civil?” Court suggests, his eyes looking past Lloyd at the general public.

“Please, I know you both love to put on a show.”

My eyebrows knit together, Court’s jaw tightening.

“Oh no no.” Lloyd chuckles, leaning against the nearby wall. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

I open and close my mouth to object, but Lloyd cuts me off.

“Two nights ago, you both decided you were fed up with pretending to ignore your feelings and fuck on the balcony.” Lloyd winks at me as I hide behind Court a little more.

“You sound delicious by the way babygirl.”

“Enough.”

Lloyd raises an eyebrow chuckling.

“You were the ones putting on a show.” Lloyd states putting his hands up in defence.

“Plus, what kind of name is Court?”

I watch Court’s whole body tense at the mention of his name on Lloyds tongue.

‘If we leave he will follow.’ I whisper, knowing Court can hear me through the earpiece.

“Go.” Court whispers, pushing me away.

I stumble slightly, looking between the two men before turning and running away.

“C’mon now! Don’t tease me!” Lloyd shouts before the sound of fists hitting skin and grunting fills the hallway.

The hallway bends to the right, the green exit sign flicking above.

“Six!”

‘Go…. without….. Me’ The earpiece crackles, hearing hit after hit.

I jiggle the handle, it is not budging. I scoff before falling to my knees and picking the lock.

Click the sound is music to my ears and racing heart as I pull the door open.

“No.. no no no.” I chant, the door opening to a brick wall. “How is this regulation?” I mumble.

“Oh Y/n!” Lloyd yells in a singsong voice. My heart pounds in my chest, butterflies filling my stomach.

If he wasn’t such a physco, he would be a total catch.

I look around the hallway hoping for another door or window, anything.

“Hi baby.”

“Fuck.”

I look over at Lloyd, his eyes looking me up and down.

“I can’t believe you went for him.”

“C’mon six.” I whisper.

“Six won’t be joining us.” My heart sinks, Lloyd has to be bluffing.

I quickly trace my eyes over Lloyd’s body, his arms almost bulging out of his shirt, blood stains across his strong abdomen and his pants tight against his thighs.

I mentally slap myself, stop checking out the enemy, he is literally a psychopath.

Lloyd strides towards me, causing me to back away from him. I brush my hand against my leg attempting to feel for my knife. My stomach drops, the emptiness of my thigh holster causing a panic to set over me. My eyes fall on the black and silver blade in the middle of the hallway.

“Y/n!” Court calls, my heart leaping in my chest. Lloyd turns his back slightly, looking towards Court. Before I can think I’m running down the hallway towards him, stupidly.

Lloyd grabs a hold of my waist, pulling me off the ground and against his hard chest. I thrash around, elbowing him in the shoulder as his grip loosens. I wiggle out of his grip, slapping him across the face and pushing him backwards. I turn to run towards Court with zero luck as Lloyd trips me, my body hitting the hard floor, my lungs struggling for air.

“Not so fast Princess.”

“You’ve got a hard hit, I’ll give you that.”

Heavy footsteps thud against the ground as Court rounds the corner.

Lloyd pulls me against his body. His hand resting just below my boobs, his thigh against my ass.

“God, you smell incredible.” Lloyd whispers, his lips against my ear.

I keep my eyes trained on Court, studying his every move, trying to figure out his plan.

“You’re a selfish son of a bitch, you know that?” Lloyd chuckles, his chest rumbling against my back.

Court cracks his neck, walking towards us as Lloyd pulls me further against him.

“C’mon now, you can’t send her in here and expect me to just let her go.”

“Lloyd.” I whimper, his grip on my body deathly tight.

His hand wanders up my chest, brushing against my boobs as my nipples prick up at the sudden touch, it doesn’t go unnoticed. Lloyd’s hand settles around my throat, pulling me more against him.

“Court.” I whimper, Lloyd’s grip tightening.

“That’s a little insulting baby, my hands on you and another man's name on your lips.”

“Lloyd.” Court warns.

Lloyd chuckles, his lips brushing against my neck, small kisses being placed on my warm skin.

Oh fuck, this shouldn’t feel good.

My lips part, eyes fluttering shut.

“Fuck.” I whisper, my body tingling at his touch. The whole scenario caused a buzz to fill me.

“Good girl.” Lloyd whispers, his hand moving from my neck to grope my boob.

“Y/n.” Court whispers, the earpiece causing his voice to ring through my brain.

My eyes snap open, focusing on the man in front of me rather than on me.

God this is wrong, so so so wrong. But so fucking good.

Lloyd pulls away from me, his eyes locking onto Court.

Lloyd drops his weapon at Court’s feet, guiding my body over to the nearby wall and caging me against him.

“I’m sure you can share Six.” Lloyd winks, his hands on my skin.

“Stop, Y/n doesn’t want this.”

Lloyd chuckles, looking into my eyes as my lips part, looking between him and Court.

“Y/n know’s how to stop me.” Lloyd states, his eyes looking over towards my knife on the floor, knowing full well I could swing this and stab him.

“This is so wrong.” I mumble, Lloyd’s lips brushing against mine.

“Then stop me.” He whispers, his lips crashing against mine. His moustache scratched against my skin softly. I melt into the kiss, my hands falling to his shoulders.

Lloyd moans against my lips, I open my eyes and look towards Court, winking at him as he shakes his head.

Court pulls Lloyd off my body, replacing him with his own.

His lips on my neck.

“This better be a part of your plan.” Court whispers against my skin.

“Grab my knife.” I whisper, kissing Court as he chuckles.

“You really aren’t someone who share’s are you?” Lloyd mocks.

Court pulls away from me, gesturing for Lloyd to take his place.

Lloyd smirks, stalking towards me as his lips latch onto mine. I run my hands up and down Lloyd’s chest, before feeling his body go limp against me, a groan filling the air.

Court used the butt on my knife against Lloyd’s head. Before digging the knife into Lloyd’s shoulder.

“You….cunt..” Lloyd groans, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Go before he wakes up.” Court instructs as I usher out of the hallway. I quickly fix my appearance before walking into the crowd of people, the music thumping louder than before. I push my way through, walking outside as Court stands beside me, a black SUV pulling up in front of us.

“Get in.”

I smile weakly, climbing into the car and pulling out my ear piece.

“You took it too far.”

“Did it make you jealous?” I tease, causing Court to tense, looking out of the window.

“What did you expect me to do? He had us cornered, you were down and my knife was missing.”

“You didn’t need to throw yourself at him.”

“It let his guard down!”

Court scoffs, shaking his head.

“And yours.”

“So you’re mad at me for improvising and getting us out of there?”

Court shakes his head, his jaw clenching. His hand wraps around my throat, pinning me against the seat.

“I'm mad that you liked it.”

“Then help me forget him.”

Court’s eyes flick from mine to my lips. He locks the two way window between us and the driver, his lips locking with mine.

His tongue parts my lips, his tongue tracing mine as his hands run up my body.

“God.” He mumbles, his fingers pinching my nipples, his mouth muffling my moans.

“Court please.” I wiggle my hips up, his hand caressing down my body, cupping my pussy.

“You’re dripping.”

I bite my lips, tossing up whether or not to tease him.

“Lloyd’s doing.”

Court grunts, his hand slapping my drenched pussy.

“Don’t be a slut.”

His fingers slip past my panties, circling my clit extremely slow causing my eyes to flutter shut.

“Please.”

Court sucks his mark into my skin, his teeth grazing against me.

“Use your words.”

“Court, fuck me.” I whimper, grinding up against his fingers.

“Do you deserve it?”

“Court.” I moan, my head falling back against the seat.

The sound of his belt buckle fills the air, his hands fumbling with his pants as I pull my underwear down my legs. I push him back against the seat, straddling his lap.

The car slows down, turning a corner as Court holds me against him, his cock brushing against my swollen clit.

He runs his cock up and down my slit, collecting my wetness before stretching me out.

“Fuck.” We both moan in unison.

Our eyes lock together as I move my hips slowly, his fingers slipping my dress down my body, my boobs falling out of the silk.

His lips wrap around my nipple, biting at the hardened bud.

I run my fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands as his hips meet mine. The rhythm of the car moving and our hips rocking together creates the perfect motion.

My toes curl at the pleasure flowing through me, the sounds falling from Court’s lips causing butterflies to fill my stomach.

Court’s hand’s move to my ass, guiding my hips to chase his high.

"So good Court."

"Better than him." Court groans as I nod.

“Say it.”

“Better than Lloyd.”

The confirmation causes Court to pick up his pace, fucking up into me faster causing my rythem to falter.

“Right there!”

Court’s fingers pinch my clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

“Fuck yes, don’t stop.”

“You’re so tight.”

My pussy clenches around Court’s cock, our lips locking together as I fall apart, cumming around his dick.

Court lifts my dress, watching his cock slip in and out of me, the passing street lights showing my cum glistening against his skin.

“Fuck baby.” Court moans, his cock twitching inside of me, hot ropes of cum filling me.

I pull Court closer to me, our lips locking together, savouring the moment.

“I won’t kiss Lloyd again.”

Court smirks, chuckling.

“If I can stab him again, then I encourage it.”

The car comes to a stop causing both of us to rush to put ourselves back together.

Once dressed, Court rolls down the two way window, tipping the driver who shakes his head.

“Fitzroy is calling.”

“Good luck explaining it.” I wink, getting out of the car and walking in front of Court, turning back and blowing him a kiss as he smiles.

Maybe mission to mission and dodgy hotels isn’t such a bad thing.

\\//

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[georgiapeach30513]

You Were the One, Part 5

Summary: Lloyd comforts you

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating: fluff

Warnings:  language, relationship talk with Lloyd, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.2K

Previous

Series Masterlist

Lloyd takes a long look at you, and still you completely ignore him. You had barely said three words to him, and only if you could answer with a short reply. He sighs, leaning back to place his feet on your desk, and wants to laugh when your nostrils flare up.

“Honey, I know you want to hit my foot off the table.”

“Why do you constantly insist on calling me honey? Why do we have to have a relationship at all? We are on a mission. Do you fucking job.”

“I never said anything about a damn relationship. Why don’t you start by talking about what’s wrong with you,” you feel stupid for doing it, but you cross your arms over you chest, blowing up a bit of air, you eyes back on the computers in front of you.

“Ah, instead you’re going to sit and listen. I’m assuming Court now knows about your condition, and it didn’t go well. And if that’s the case, he’s a fucking idiot. He has this amazing woman, that not only tolerates his brooding ass, but understands his job. You understand there’s times he won’t be there, and how dangerous this life can be. I’m more concerned on why his fiancé couldn’t tell him that she was pregnant. Usually it’s a happy moment.”

“I told you,” your voice comes out raw and flat, still unable to meet his eyes that have no once moved from you. Those blue eyes showing you the utmost sympathy, and you wish Court would look at you like that. “He doesn’t want kids.”

“And what were you doing to prevent that?” you finally look at him, rolling your eyes. “The fucking pull out method? Court Gentry trusted himself to raw dog it, and didn’t think pregnancy could happen? What a fucking idiot. And don’t you look at me like that. It takes two. Clearly, you didn’t care if a pregnancy happened, and he knew you weren’t on birth control, but to just,” dramatically he rolls his eyes, settling back into his chair.

“This is both of your faults for lack of communication,” this is what you had been saying for weeks. You throw your head back laughing, thankful that someone gets it. “What’s funny?”

“I’ve been screaming about his lack of communication for months now. Before,” softly you lay you hand on your stomach. It had only barely decided to poke out. Drifting your sight back up to Lloyd who has a gentle smile, tilting his head to the side. “Before this. You know, you’re quite…never mind.”

“Say it,” his head tilts back arrogantly, while his smile gets even bigger. “You think I’m attractive. It’s obvious to everyone, including Six how attractive you find me.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“You like my style, love how put together I am. You’ve watched me get ready in the morning and know I have a very set routine. Love how tight I wear my pants. You even find my cocky attitude endearing. You love my honesty and even the fact that I see you. Not you as in Agent Twelve. You. The real you. I noticed your glow despite whatever is going on between you and Six, and it has nothing to do with me. I just made things more complicated. You enjoy time with me. You tolerate Court. Is sex that great with him? Because you guys don’t match at all.”

“Oh,” you snort, turning your chair to fully look at him. The computer and mission completely forgotten. “You think you know everything.”

“Tell me you don’t find me attractive.”

“You know you’re attractive.”

“That’s not what I told you to say. You can’t even admit it out loud can you? This sexual tension we’ve been building up since we first met, is a tiny part of you problem.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. Court asked if the baby was his,” your eyes cast back down to the floor. It was the first time you admitted that, but also the first time you said the baby out loud. Feeling like weight had been lifted off your shoulders at both those admissions. “Pretty sure he implied you.”

“You want me to tell him that I offered for you to just sit on my face and see if the mustache adds any stimulation and you’ve turned it down every time? That’s an open offer, by the way,” when you roll your eyes, and start to turn back to the computer, he places a soft hand on your knee.

“I’m only kidding. This is how I deal with…I don’t know, this. And I feel helpless because I don’t know what to tell you. Have you even spoken to him?”

“He left that night. Went somewhere else.”

Lloyd’s face mixes between utter disdain for Court, and pity because you were left alone.

“So he has somewhere he can run off and go to, and you suffer in silence hoping that he’s not only a man, but your fiancé and steps up and becomes the father to his child? If it was me, I would have held you all night long, and even if we cried, we would have dealt with what our actions led us to. Quit blaming yourself and ask where the fuck Court was. Where was he?”

You can’t admit it. You’d done enough surveillance on his phone and car to know exactly who he ran to. His eyes turn down, and he stares hard at stomach, but also your fingers twisting around your engagement ring.

“You wanna touch the belly?”

“Is that a serious question? C’mere,” you move to stand in front of him, and his entire hand flattens on the little swell. Looking up at you with an adorable smile, before he’s back to looking at your stomach, “Your mother is amazing. She just puts up with too much shit.”

“Lloyd! This is a baby. You can’t curse.”

“She puts up with a lot from your father. We gotta help her understand her worth. And he either can talk to her and figure out what’s happening or,” you’re not sure why, but then need to touch Lloyd became too strong, and you reach out to cup his cheek. Admiring the freckling on his skin, and how uncomplicated conversation is with him.

And when he looks up at you, you envision this on the daily. Him talking to your belly, but also that look. Lloyd is a lot of things, but soft is not one of them, except with you. You don’t know why, nor do you care, because he has kept you sane these past few weeks. “Lloyd, I…I don’t know.”

“You look like you haven’t gotten enough sleep since that blow up. Forget the mission, and sleep,” when you shake your head no, his smile fades, “Why?”

“I just…I’ve just wanted him to hold me.”

“I’m not Court, but I’ll hold you. No inappropriate comments, promise. You need sleep. Babies need their mother not stressed, and that’s all you’ve been.”

You can’t answer, but you nod your head. Standing up in front of you, his hand softly skims down your sides, and you have to step back, gulping. It felt too good. Too warm, and he’s not who you’re engaged to. “We’re just sleeping, honey.”

Pulling your hand softly, he guides you to the bed. Waiting for you to settle down, before he crawls in behind you. His thick hand cupping your stomach, and he rests his head on yours, “Shh, you need rest. This isn’t good for the baby.”

“I know.”

“Shh.”

Next

Masterlist

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[mlmxreader]

Saviour | Sierra Six x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: "Hey, hey look at me! Look at me!" m!reader x hurt!sierra six

summary: Six is in bad shape, but luckily, there’s someone who won’t quite give up on him. 

tws: swearing, injury, scabs/blood, gun violence mention

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Six coughed loudly, his body jerking as he reached to hold onto his side, his ribs aching and his throat felt like it had been stuffed with cotton; every muscle ached, and every bone seared with pain when he tried to move.

He heard the scabs crack when he tried to move his arm, and resigned himself to staying still for the moment as he looked around the all too familiar room; the off-white walls, the dark coloured bedding, the familiar smell of smoke and energy drinks.

He knew these walls well, and could feel himself relax a little bit when he came to realise where he was, trying his best to remember the events that had lead him there, in that all too familiar bed; he swallowed thickly, his throat and chest itching and his side aching from the harsh coughing.

The last thing he remembered was ringing his boyfriend, desperate and bleeding, after he had gotten himself into a gunfight; of all the places in the world, it had been Bastogne, where he and his boyfriend had gotten into just a little bit more than a good amount of trouble. He couldn’t remember more than that, and he was in too much pain and too tired to even try and force himself to. 

The footsteps that he heard nearby didn’t make him flinch, so familiar to his trained ear that he even dared to crack a smile, which did little more than cause the splits in his lips to crack open, blood starting to trickle down to his chin.

He struggled to sit up, but his ribs screamed in protest, and the scabs on his arms started to weep once more, so he huffed, and crashed back down against the soft pillows as he listened carefully; when he caught you out of the corner of his eye, he smiled a little more, and coughed weakly as he attempted to clear his throat.

His jaw stung him in the process.

Faintly, Six could smell coffee lingering on you, and he could tell from your jogging bottoms and t-shirt that you didn’t care much that he was in your bed; it was easy for him to deduce that you had stayed up to look after him, and although he had been mercilessly trained against such a thing, Six couldn’t help but to feel a pang of guilt course through his stomach and chest as he realised that you had not strayed too far from his side since bringing him home - maybe even earlier, probably much earlier than that.

He frowned.

“That’s twice now,” you hummed, sitting by his knees as you laid your hand on his leg softly. “Both times in Bastogne.”

Six rolled his eyes. How could he forget the first time? You always brought it up, always made him promise that whatever mission he was sent on would not be like Bastogne, that it would be different and that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes that he had back then.

Shame that the one time he fucked up again since, it just so happened to be in the same place.

“Hey, hey, look at me! Look at me!” You clicked your fingers, grabbing his attention. “Twice.”

“Shut up,” he coughed. 

You smiled, gently tapping his leg as you removed the blanket from him and examined the various stitches, bandages and plasters that nearly coated his entire body. “You’re lucky to be alive, Six. If you hadn’t… if you hadn’t called me when you did…”

“What happened?”

You shrugged. “You said you’d been in a gunfight, that you’d been injured, so I came running. I found you passed out by some bins, so I grabbed you, brought you back here - then I called Ritabhari.”

“Did she fix me?”

“She fixed you,” you nodded, scratching your eyebrow as you frowned. “She told me to keep an eye on you, though. Said you might get sepsis if them wounds aren’t cleaned out.”

Six huffed, shaking his head as he cleared his throat and attempted to sit upright again, but you softly pushed him back down, shaking your head at him as you frowned; it wasn’t that Six minded being near you, it wasn’t that he didn’t want you to see him hurt, but he was acutely aware that if people had seen you pick him up, then it was likely that they could easily track you down.

The last thing that Six wanted was to see his boyfriend get hurt because of him, and as achy and sore and bleeding as he was, he still had the instinct to sweep the grounds and to make sure that there weren’t any threats lurking in bushes or up trees or even in unused cupboards; every fibre of his being was telling him to get up and to move, to make sure that you were safe but… but you looked so worried, and he managed to calm the instinct as he went limp and nodded slowly.

“I know you want to protect me,” you started, “and I know you’re worried but you have to trust me when I say this: you are in no shape to do fuck all right now except rest. I love you, Six, and I’m gonna look after you - but you gotta rest. Please.”

How could he say no?

How could he bring himself to worry you even further when he could see it in your eyes that you were already so overwhelmed?

So he frowned, and he swallowed thickly as he let out a rasping and rattling breath that only made his throat and chest itch even more; but he had to speak, even if it hurt him, he had to speak.

“Okay.”

“Do you need anything?” You asked, getting up and pulling the blanket back over him, making sure that it was nice and snug. “Hungry? Thirsty? Bored?”

“Hungry,” Six grumbled.

“Soup and bread alright?” You laughed softly as you looked away for a second. “I haven’t had a chance to go to the shops for something better yet but uh… I’ll ask Albert if he can go - if you’ll help me make a list?”

“Sure,” he rasped out. “Soup and bread is fine.”

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[bishopgirl98]

Love Bug

Summary: Follow up to "A Series of Gentle Touches". More details about how this version of the reader met the duo and where they are now.

Pairing: Sierra Six/Court Gentry x F!Reader

Rating: General. Mainly fluff, shirtless Six, and a flustered reader. Honestly, fluff fest, courtesy of yours truly

A/N: I appreciate all the love for "A Series of Gentle Touches"! it has lit a fire for me to keep going and write more in general. As an important note, this won't be on my master list. I am developing a new, cleaner master list that isn't one long post. So, please bear with me on that as I am back in school full time.

Btw, this song plays a part of the story, I feel like listening to it adds on. And if you have not listened to this album, I highly recommend it :)

Rain begins to clatter against the window, when you find yourself lost in thought. The last time you interacted with Six was almost two months ago. Between you teaching again and Claire getting into a routine, your time with them slipped away as October began. You stand at the sink, washing the dishes as your mind begins to linger on the past few months. 

When you first met Claire and Six, you stumbled upon them. They were moving in during the night time, but they were so quiet anyone would’ve missed them. You happened to be restless that night, so, you threw on a matching sweatsuit and grabbed your wallet and keys. Hoping to get a midnight snack to ease your mind. 

You locked it from the inside and when you stepped outside your door a roll of film came to a stop at your feet. You had crouched down to pick it up, and when you looked up, he was there. Bent over in front of you with a cap on his head, clad in a tracksuit, and beautiful blue eyes staring into your own. “Sorry,” he muttered and he extended his hand to help you up. You took it and the second you were back on your feet he made some distance between you two. 

“No worries, I’m y/n, by the way.” You said, offering a smile. He hummed and nodded his head. He parted his lips to speak, when she came out. 

“Six, have you seen…” her voice trailed off as she looked at you and smiled. “Oh, hi.” You smiled shyly and waved to the young girl. 

He cleared his throat, “Sorry for interrupting your night, y/n. We were trying not to disturb anyone.” He turned and looked at the young girl who scrunched her nose at him forcing a giggle from you. She’s pretty funny.

“No problem,” you said. “I’m heading out, but I’ll see you around.” You waved to the pair and the girl waved back and he gave you a curt nod while you waited for the elevator. You could hear a light pair of footsteps shuffle back inside. But you were nailed to the spot, while he watched you. Clearly waiting for you to leave before heading into the apartment. The elevator beeped and you rushed inside. You leaned back against the wall and exhaled a bit as questions ran through your mind. Who is the girl? She seems nice. Much nicer than the man she's with. And his name is …Six? You shook your head and hurried to make your trip as quick as possible. 

Then three days later you would need help making it to the elevator. You piled up all your groceries into reusable bags, thinking you’d be able to get everything in one go. You almost didn’t. You were balancing them, catching a bag of potatoes before they could tumble, but you weren’t fast enough to catch the apples. You expected them to slam to the ground, but the sound never rang out. “Need help?” 

You peered over one of the bags, Six. You chuckled slightly, “I need more help than I thought I did, huh?” He gestured towards one of the bags, and you released your grip as he took the bag from you.

 He looked down at the young girl, “Claire, can you get the elevator?” 

“On it,” she said, striding over to the elevator. You followed the pair and waited for the elevator to arrive. The girl looked up and smiled at you, “I’m Claire by the way.” 

You smiled back and replied, “Y/n, how are you two liking it so far?” 

The elevator beeped and you all piled inside, “It’s nice, but we don’t know much about the town.” She paused, pressing the button for the fourth floor, before turning back to you, “Do you know where we could find a record store?” You beamed at her excitement, and chatted the rest of the ride up about her favorite records. While he listened, only humming or nodding in response to Claire’s comments. 

Once on your floor, they follow you to your door, waiting until you open your door. Once your things were settled, you turned to them. “Thanks for your help, and the company on the way up.”

Noticing how little time was left Claire blurted out, “Would you want to go to that thrift store you mentioned?” She looked up at Six, who was silently processing the question.

He looked between you two, he strengthened himself out, resting his hands on top of each other “We still have some things to figure out, can we raincheck?” he asked. You nodded.

“Absolutely, take care,” you said. 

Then you think back to that last time on your couch. He was … gentle. Kind. He would smile at something you did, when he thought you weren't looking. He took care of you when you were sick and … And now this. Radio silence. You shake your head. I’m overthinking this. They're still getting their bearings. I’m working again. And, I know little about their lives before me.  

Three knocks bring you out of your thoughts, then you hear, "Y/n, it's me, open up." Smiling, you drop your dish rag and hurry to the door. When you open it Claire is standing outside with books in hand and gazing up at you. "Hey, can you help me with some homework?"

"Of course, come in," you say, stepping aside to allow her in. Smiling, Claire comes in and sets down at your kitchen table. 

While unloading her books she asks, “How’s teaching going?”

“Pretty good. My kids are good so far, but their seventh graders. Much like yourself, but most likely you’re more focused.” You say and quick an eyebrow before asking, “Well, you are right?”

She laughs, before responding, “Well, I’ve got a homeschool teacher and she says I’m doing alright. But I’m doing lessons on my own today.” On her own?

“Why?”

“Six is sick. Doesn’t want me or her to get whatever he’s got. We talked on the phone, went over what I should study for next time.” She’s taking her notebook out and you join her at the table. 

“What do you have to do?” Looking over the papers, The Outsiders and The Westing Game. “Ah, this is a great selection. I’m teaching The Westing Game soon.”

Claire perks up, “Ms. Ashlee did say I could pick which one we do first.” Her eyes light up as she says, “You could test run the book with me.” 

You pretend to think about it for a moment, before smirking and saying, “Why not.” You sit down and gesture for her to join you. You both read through the first two chapters when you start talking, it is clear Claire is more than interested.

Her face lights up as you guys start talking, “Okay, so, can we agree that Turtle is the best character in the book?” Gee, I wonder why?

Six doesn’t get sick. His body is his temple. Was his job. His way of survival and how he protects Claire. Until now anyway. He lets out a deep groan as he rolls over to check his phone. 

Claire: I’m at Y/n’s. She’s helping me with my homework. We’ll come check on you soon :) 

At least she’s safe and happy, he thought. And it doesn’t hurt that she’s with Y/n.

He’s filled with unfamiliar sensations that he hadn’t experienced since he was a child. It started out of nowhere three nights ago. He had a headache, but he assumed it was because he hadn’t slept for the past few days. By this morning, he became nauseous. So, not only was he worse, but he was at a loss as to how this happened. 

It can’t be -- No that’s silly. There’s no way I can get anything done like this. 

Claire needs to be protected, around the clock. He has to be on his toes, and yet, he was more off his game than ever. Without a second thought, he slowly rises from the bed and picks up his phone again.  And called  Doctor Fetzer to make a house visit. He had been helpful in checking up on Claire. 

About thirty minutes later, three knocks get Six out of bed. He grunts with each heavy step towards the door before looking through the peephole. He opens the door and invites Fetzer in, “Hi, Doc.”

He nods before entering, “Hi, Mr. Foster, so, what seems to be the problem?” He follows Six into the living room, setting his bag on the coffee table.   

He sighs, taking a seat on the brown couch. “Well, it started with a headache, then some loss of sleep. And now I'm nauseated. But I haven’t had any issues like this before, I don’t usually get sick.”

The doctor nods and takes out a stethoscope and thermometer. “Can you lean forward for me?” Six listens, scooting forward on the couch. “Breathe in and out slowly for me.” A moment passes, before he speaks again. “Everything seems normal here, but let’s check your temp and examine your throat for any illness.” 

After about five minutes, Dr. Fetzer sits down on the couch beside Six. “So, nothing physical seems to be wrong with you. While most would associate your symptoms with a cold or another common sickness, I think that this may be more mental or emotional.” Six raises an eyebrow at that response. 

Mental? Emotional? No it can’t be. 

Dr. Fetzer looks down at his hands before asking, “Is there anything new? Or someone new?”

He lets his guard down, “What are you saying?”

“What’s happening could be stress, mental exhaustion, maybe even,” he pauses, choosing his words wisely. “Longing for someone or something. Either way, you need to resolve the issue. While nothing physical is wrong, the mental and emotional are just as important.” 

Six nods, before standing up, “I’ll take your advice, Doc. Thanks for coming to see me.”

He stands up and shakes Six’s hand, “Take care and do call me to set up Claire’s next check in.”

“Of course, take care.” With that the Doctor leaves and  Six is left with his thoughts. Head pulsing, stomach clenching as he settles back on the couch. He takes out his phone and calls Claire. She picks up on the second ring. 

Her voice chirps through the phone, “Hey, feeling better?” 

“A little, how’s the homework going?”

She hums, “Good, Y/n and I got a head start on one of my books for next week. Quick question, when can I come back? I know you’re not feeling well and I couldn’t turn down a game of Mario Kart with Y/n.”

His stomach clenches again and he lets out a quiet groan. Leaning forward he says, “Give me an hour. I’d rather not be -- well, as sick as I am when you come back.”

She’s silent for a moment longer before asking, “You sure you okay?”

He sighs as a smirk pulls at his lips, “Just another Thursday, Kid. Remember, one hour. Oh, Claire?”

She hums again.

“Tell Y/n I said thank you.” 

She laughs and Six can tell that her signature smirk is on now, “Will do.” She hangs up and Six slumps back on the couch. The Doctor said to resolve this, so he had to think. 

He and Claire have been laying low, but no signs of danger so far. Sure it had him weary, but Claire was safe and healthy. She was going to ease into the idea of going to public school, so long as they were safe. 

They lost Fitz. They were healing -- together. Trying to find their footing in this new city. But, Y/n was of huge help. She had provided comfort to Claire, and admittedly, himself too. One neither of them were familiar with. Sure, Claire had a live-in nanny when she lived in Hong Kong, but she was more like a friend and caretaker than motherly to Claire. 

Because of you she had a friend that wasn’t him and could get her excited about life, in general. For Six, well she- and that’s when the nausea hit again. Shit. 

Six gets up, and against the will of his body, rushes to the bathroom. Groaning, he shrugs off his shirt, tossing it into his room as he goes to his personal bathroom. Stumbling over his own feet, he manages to get to the toilet and flip up the lid. 

He silently heaves over the toilet. That was a reaction. 

A telling reaction in the fact that. The pieces are falling into place as to what the doctor had mentioned earlier. Six has changed too, not just with Claire, but on his own. He was, as the doctor put it, longing for someone. 

She had been a huge help. Not just with Claire, but with Six. He felt more human, normal almost. Especially that night you had been sick. It was natural in the way that he felt he had known you for a thousand years. His hand skimming over your forehead. The amount of tension his body held whenever you passed by him. Or how that left corner of his mouth would twitch up into a genuine, beautiful smile that’d reach his eyes, when you and Claire would dance to records in your living room before she had to go to bed. 

But that night. He had given in to those feelings. Nurturing you, the way he hadn’t been taught or experienced. Like it was the air he breathed. Taking comfort in helping you, holding you during movies. The contrast of your soft skin compared to his marred skin and calloused hands. He is enamored by you so much that he’s been driven to sickness as a bodily response. 

He lets out a deep sigh and slumps against the wall. Pushing his hair back, for the first time in his life, free to feel confused about his own feelings. What now? 

“Oh no, you look worse than when I left you.” His eyes shot up at Claire in shock, to see her face painted with worry over him. Has it been an hour already?

He rubs his eyes, trying his best to focus, “Aren’t you supposed to be at Y/n’s?” 

She slightly grits her teeth and that when he knows. Before he can have time to react you are walking into the bathroom. “Is everything -- oh sorry.” You cover your eyes and step back. Confused, Six looks at Claire. Who is pointing to chest and mouthing, “Shirt.”

Six clears his throat and turns his attention to Claire, “Hey, why don’t you go order some pizza for dinner tonight?”

Claire smiles at that, “Do you need anything else?”

He notices her smile and responds, “A moment, with Y/n, alone.” Claire is still sporting her smile as she walks out of Six’s room without so much as a glance towards Y/n. Who has her eyes covered to give Six some -- privacy. He smirks at this kink in her armor. She can teach young kids all day, but can’t handle him being shirtless. He sits up, quickly, and holds his head. But, it doesn’t. 

Still shirtless, Six gets up and walks past you to his dresser.  Where he can feel your eyes scanning over his back. No doubt noticing the scars there. “They don’t hurt. They're old and healed.”

Your voice is soft as you finally speak up, “You feeling better?.”

He hums in response, “Much better.” Now that you’re here. “Thank you for taking Claire earlier.” He grabs a gray shirt and shrugs it on. He’s about to turn back to you when he sputters out, “Stay for dinner?”

Your mouth hangs open for a moment and you turn to face him. Relief floods your body at him wearing a shirt, you clamp your mouth shut and push a strand of hair back. “Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks.” He nods, and for a moment, you think you notice the corner of his mouth twitch up. No, stop that. 

“Claire says you two got a lot done, will you show me while we wait?” he asks. You knew he was heavily involved in Claire’s progress, but not enough to ask. 

“Of course, we put everything at the table when we came in.”

He gestures towards the door with his sun painted hand, “Lead the way.”

All you can muster up is a meek okay, before walking past Six, his hand ghosting the lower half of your back, but never fully touching you. The feeling of his eyes raking over you making your cheeks tingle. 

When you enter the kitchen you hear a quick shuffling sound and notice Claire on the couch. Body leaned over the arm on the opposite side of the couch, her face hidden from you and Six. The sound of a chair moving across the floor brings you back to him. His broad frame is settled behind a chair waiting for you to sit down. Your footsteps are quiet as you pad over to the wooden table. “Thank you.” Wordlessly, he pushes your chair in, and takes the seat beside you. 

You flip open Claire’s notebook and your copy of The Westing Game. “So, we talked about the mystery genre, worked on the first three chapters, and started clue gathering.”

He smiles at that last bit, so much that it reaches his eyes. And for once, he’s the one asking questions. For the next forty minutes you fill Six in on the wonders of The Westing Game and, well, fuck. He is completely entranced by everything you’re saying. He leans in every few minutes, closer, and closer to you. Being less glib, holding his side of the conversation, engaging with the text. And that sun painted hand, just maneuvers across the table each time you get ready to turn the page, always just grazing your fingers, never touching. 

You’re both resting on your forearms, turned towards each other, as you talk about some of the character’s. He sighs, “Grace, ugh where do I start?” You let out a chuckle, and wave a hand for him to continue. “I have worked for some miserable people, Y/n.”

You lean in, a twinkle in your eye, “Please, count the ways.” He cocks an eyebrow up at that, but the knock on the door pulls him away. He grunts slightly, and pats your hand as he gets up to answer the door.     

Claire is on the couch reading her copy of the book. Glancing over at you and Six. Smiling every so often at the closeness and the happiness on Six’s face. It was the first time she saw anything like it on him. Normally, he would keep someone like Y/n at a distance, but he was different. Maybe -- She smiles, he’s got the love bug. 

“Claire, Y/n, pizza’s here.” Six calls. Claire sticks her bookmark in and hurries to make her plate. “What’s the rush, Claire?” 

“I want to finish this book, and I don’t see myself doing so out here,” she explains in a taunting tone. You gasp and turn to the girl.

“Are you saying we’re disruptive?”

There’s a glimmer in her eye as she says, “In fact, I am.” 

Six scoffs at that. “Says the girl with the record player.”

“Calm down, gum chewer, and don’t pretend you don’t hum along every now and then.”

You hum, “Please tell me more.”

Claire laughs, “He won’t say it, but I’m certain he loves Imagine Dragons. Alright, I’m in my room.” She tucks her book under her arm and takes the plate and glass of water to her room. 

You turn to Six and laugh, “The nerve of that one.”

He playfully rolls his eyes, “Unbelievable that kid. I was going to cut on a film and eat. Do you want to join me?”

Maybe- “I’d like that, what movie?” His mouth twitches again. Did I see that right?

He hums for a moment, thinking while making you a plate. “I don’t really have any ideas. I uh- I didn’t grow up watching many films. Any ideas?”

“How do you feel about classic films?” You turn your body towards him as he fills up your favorite mug with water. The water lily mug. Claire insisted on keeping for when you watched over her at their place. He remembered?  It was a beautiful blue, with a light green curved handle. Inside was a water lily in the center of the mug. 

“Are there any with Bogart?” he questions as he walks to the living room balancing the two mugs and singular plate. 

You join him on the small couch, sparing him some space. You think you know what’s going on, but it’d be easier to let him fill in the gaps. Picking up the remote, you flip through the guide for TCM and find one. “You’re in luck. “The Big Sleep” is about to come on.” Grinning, you turn to him, “So, why Bogart?”  

He picks up his mug, shrugging his shoulders slightly, “I relate to him, his characters anyway.” 

You pick up your mug and adjust so you’re facing him, “How so?”

He chuckles a bit, “I’m a bit of a fixer. All his characters seem to help others before they help themselves.”

You try to give him a small smile, “Even in life, love?”

He nods his head, “Even then.”

“It’s a good thing you have Claie then, even Bogart wasn’t lucky enough to have a plucky sidekick.”

He chuckles and nods, “You got me there. What about you?”

“I can’t relate to Lauren’s character at all. I mean, I have my kids at school and they make me want to come in for work everyday. I live away from my family. My mom is a single parent, and my sister is in college. I have no kids of my own.”  And no one to come home to. “But I’m not half as feisty as this character is.” You chuckle out. 

The tv rings out with the opening theme of the movie, causing you and Six to adjust your attention. Once the film gets going, you dig into the lukewarm pizza until it’s gone, slowly burrowing yourself further into the couch. 

As the movie goes on, you cast small glances over at Six. He’s moved a bit closer since the movie started. He seems better than when you first came over. You nudge him, and he hums, shifting his eyes between you and the screen. You whisper, “Are you feeling better?’

“Much, thanks for asking.” He looks at you and winks. You simply nod your head and let out a little cough as you turn back to the movie. He didn’t hear the squeak you almost let out at that and rub your arms. Get it together, Y/n. It’s just him. “Are you cold?” Not wanting to make him notice your reaction, you nod. Wordlessly, he walks over to the kitchen with your dishes from earlier. 

A moment later, he’s back to you with a soft knit sweater, holding it out to you. It’s army green, with multicolored boxes, and smells of , well, you can’t put your finger on it at first. 

“Thanks,” you mumble. He sits back down, closer this time making the previous gap nonexistent as he knee sways back and forth towards your own. You’re watching the movie - fuk it. Spontaneously, you snuggle your head in his shoulder, just like you did months ago. He slightly flinches and stops swaying his knee at the sudden action. Slowly, he resumes swaying his knee, and rests his hand on yours as you lean into him. He tilts his head up, the scruff of his bread lightly brushing your hair as he allows you to bury yourself deeper into his touch.

The swirling in your stomach from all that time ago returns in full force. Almost affirming that night. Almost. The man is so glib that having him verbally confirm something would be more than helpful. But, right now, you guys are in the final scenes of the movie. And watching Bacall and Bogart sends a lightness through your chest that can only be described as a sense of longing for something like love. 

While the credits roll, you stay tucked in the crook of Six’s neck. And for a few moments, you can feel his eyes flick between you and the screen. And he lets out a low hum, as if to communicate how content he is in this moment and maybe he’ll find the words, but first -- “Thanks for this, Y/n.”

You move your head to look at him, “Of course, you’re not feeling sick though?”

He shakes his head, knocking a few strands of dirty blonde hair loose, “No.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was wrong?”

He grunts, “I uh, hadn’t been eating or sleeping. Caused some nausea and headaches on my part, but really, I’m better.”

You chuckle. “Of course, I mean it could be worse. You could have been love sick,” you joke. He nods his head, and the wheels seem to be turning. “We didn’t make much of a mess this time, but I have to do the dishes.” You lean forward to let him move. 

“You wash, I’ll dry?” You offer. He nods his head and leads the way back to the kitchen. You push up the long sleeves of the sweater, putting away the previous dishes from earlier in the day. You both work in silence. The sound of the water filling the sink and the light clatter of dishes filling the room as you think. Does he feel what I feel? And -- more importantly -- was he love sick? Was that even possible for someone like him? 

You didn’t know, but it was and it was so much more than you thought or knew for that fact. The sound of light piano sounds and dull voice slowly stream out from the back of the apartment. Claire’s playing her records again. You grin, thankful for a little music to your evening. You join Six at the sink, and start rinsing the dishes. Taking them from his painted, calloused hands into your own. 

As you're drying the dishes, your elbows slightly brushing Six’s, you hear Claire’s record player as it begins growing in volume, the lead voice and backing vocals becoming clearer. And in a moment, he’s humming along with the song. He doesn’t break his stride, it’s clearly a favorite. A smile rises upon your face as you watch him, suddenly he looks at you as he hums. And he smiles for the first time, while holding eye contact. You smile back, biting your lip as you break eye contact. The words become clearer. 

So take my word, I promise you, I’ll come through

The humming has stopped, Six puts his hand on your shoulder. Turning you towards him, his hands out, hand open for yours. You push the sleeves of the sweater back down and take his hands. He wraps his arms around you and starts humming again as the song picks up and sways you with him in a tiny circle. 

Do, pray, tell. Of beauty that inspires you. It’s something of a miracle, when you do what you do. Give me faith again. I’ll follow you blindly. Pray you don;t deceive me. 

You take a deep breath and close the gap between you as the song intensifies with meaning. Bringing you and Six closer in this moment, burrowing your way into his arms as his hands grip you tighter.

I promise you, I’ll come through. I’m your continual truth. 

Six reaches down, and gently pulls you from the comfort of his chest. His eyes searching your own as you look at him. He brings one his hands up to cup your face, running a thumb across your cheek as his bright blue orbs flick between your eyes and your lips. "May I?"

You push up on your toes to meet him halfway as his hand cradles your face. His lips leading yours in a slow rhythm, that could knock you off your feet. You move your hands to wrap around his neck, when he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. "Dove, I've been sick about you.”

As usual, let me know what you think. And any feedback is helpful, especially with dividers and how some stuff comes off.

Another reminder, my master list, will be deleted in the next week or so. There will be a new one. If you saved it, I may tag you in a new post letting you know that the new one is up. But only those who have it saved as of today (9/19/22). Also, my tag list is still open, the link is in my bio :)

Tag List: @bval-1 @danielle143 @uwiuwi

#sierra six imagine #sierra six x reader #court gentry x reader #court gentry imagine #the gray man fanfiction #court gentry #bishopgirl98 #sierra six #sierra six x you #the gray man #claire fitzroy #sierra six x y/n #courtland gentry #court gentry x female reader #court gentry x y/n #court gentry x you #sierra six x female reader

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

Meant to Be Yours

Llyod Hansen x Doctor! Reader and Six x reader

Hi, I finally was inspired to write. And yes I may or may not have seen Gray Man and may or may not have gotten some inspiration from that and all of the science classes I'm taking. Sorry for the lack of updates, I just wasn’t motivated to write and didn't want to make myself hate writing these stories and driving myself to not enjoy writing them. I really do intend to write more but life seems to have other plans (one of the reasons for my new name lol). But this story idea slapped me in the face and hopefully gets me back in the swing of things.

(Will have two separate endings) Also, sorry in advance, this is a love triangle, but hopefully I keep it interesting.

Trigger Warnings: I mean it has Lloyd Hansen in it, torture, gore, noncon/ dubcon, cursing, stalking, power imbalance

‘I’m not getting paid enough for this shit.’ You thought to yourself. The dank hallway smelled of blood and there was an ominous dripping sound behind you somewhere. ‘When I get back I swear to god I’m chewing off Greenway’s ass.’ When you came into work today you hadn’t expected the CIA of all goddamn agencies to be short staffed. You were beyond pissed when your manager approached you that morning with a chintzy first aid kit.

“We need you on patch up duty today.” You recalled rolling your eyes. It wasn’t that you were too prideful to help others, it was just that you never actually did anything around the lab. And for someone hired straight out of graduate school it was disappointing to say the least. You had been ecstatic when the CIA itself approached you about your thesis on biochemical warfare, and stunned at the opportunity to join their research team. You didn’t come from money and worked your ass off to get through all of the necessary schooling and now you were playing Dr. MD.

“I’m not even that type of doctor.” You grumbled to yourself as you approached two armed guards in front of an old rusted door.

Clearing your throat, you felt nervous as the two of them looked at you. “Um- Someone requested a Dr. I’m Dr. Y/l/n. I think I’m in the right place.” Although you’d much rather be anywhere else, this place gave you horror movie vibes.

The guard on the right nodded curtly and opened the door without a word.

“Thanks.” You said slowly, walking into god knows what.

“About time you showed up.” A cocky voice echoed through the room. You raised your eyebrow at a man leaning against the wall in a crappy porn star stache, tight polo shirt, and white pants. He seemed out of place looking all put together next to the man tied to a chair and gagged. You eyed a few wicked looking medical instruments warily.

“Didn’t know they had docs that pretty.” The man continued. Not even trying to hide the way he looked you up and down.

“What is this?” You asked hesitantly as he rolled up his sleeves and walked over to you.

“Standard protocol.” He rolled his eyes at that. “Apparently Carmichael needs this guy alive and you…” He slapped a hand on your shoulder causing you to flinch. “… are gonna make sure he stays that way cupcake.”

“This is not what I’m trained for.” You let out an uneasy laugh and turned towards the door. “I’m sure there’s someone else who can-“

You froze as two strong hands gripped your arms and spun you around roughly. “You’re not going anywhere sweetheart. I’ve been waiting to start and you would want to leave poor Mr. Jackson here waiting any longer huh?” He shoved you forward and you stumbled towards a small wooden chair. “I think he’s a bit nervous.” The man whispered in your ear as he shoved you down. You tried not to let your hands shake as he strode over to the tied up man and dropped a car battery on the metal table next to him.

The man started sobbing as the table rattled next to him and the man started tapping two jumper cables together. You hated how he smiled at the sparks they produced.

“Now.” He paused with a smile. “Let’s get this party started huh?” He waved the clamps around with a wicked smile and ripping off the gag.

“Please I swear I don’t know what you want! I-I’ve got money! Ummm and- and cars, whatever you want, just please don’t do this!” The man tied to the chair begged.

“You see, I would, but I’m already getting shit load of cash and I have plenty of nice cars. Speaking of, you and I can go for a ride after I finish up here.” The man shot you a quick wink as he said that.

“So.” He continued slowly. ‘He seems to have a flair for the dramatic.’ You feel your hands grow clammy as he yanks the man’s chin closer and places the clamp on his cheek. “Let’s not draw this out longer than it needs to be. There’s a lady present.” He clamped the other cable to his other cheek and the man shook his head nervously.

“Where is it?” His joking expression dropped as he crouched down to be eye level with the man.

“I-I don’t know what you’re-“

You jumped in your seat as the man flipped a switch and sent an electric current through the victim. You felt your lungs start to heave as you watched him seize around uncontrollably. “Boring.” He heaved out a sigh. “You know what I’m talking about.” The man in the chair slumped down as he released the switch. “Where is it.”

“I swear it don’t-“ The man in the chair was cut off by a loud scream as the other man upped the voltage and flipped the switch.

“Maybe that’ll help jog your memory.” He smirked and then turned to you. “Italian or French?” He asked, toying with the switch, flipping it on and off.

“W-what?” You stuttered out as the man in the chair kept writhing in pain.

“Where do you wanna get dinner after we finish up here? I know this great new Italian place but it’s up to you.”

You blinked at him in shock. Was he actually flirting with you?

“I really think I should be heading back after all of… this.” You stared at the floor, trying not to listen to the man’s screams.

“No need.” The man scoffed. “I’ll let the boss man know and you’re off the hook. You know I’m thinking we should do Italian. I’ve got a craving for some lasagna.”

You scoffed at that and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “You can’t be serious.”

He shot you a smile and flipped off the switch to pull out a phone. “Sure am. I can call now. Carmichael and I are close.”

“Wait, you don’t mean…”

“Hey Denny.” He paused as the voice on the line responded back. “No, he hasn’t cracked yet, but we’ll get there. Anyways I’ve got a favor to ask. Once I’m done here I need you to let Dr…” He strode over and yanked up your official badge, smiling as he read the name. “Y/n y/l/n off for the rest of the day.” You yanked the badge away from him and shoved it in your pocket. ‘The nerve of this asshole.’

He chuckled at something the other person in the line said before responding. “She sure is. Anyways, think you can swing it? Thanks man you’re the best.” He gave you a thumbs up as he paced in front of you still listening.

“Uh huh. Sure. He wants to talk to you.” He handed you the phone, which you took gingerly. He couldn’t actually be talking with THE Denny Carmichael, the man who had discovered you in your program and gave you your job offer.

“Hello?” You asked softly.

“Dr. Y/l/n.” A familiar voice answered. “Perfect, now I need you to listen very carefully.” Holy shit it actually was him. This psychopath had the Chief of the goddamn CIA in his contacts list as Denny.

“I- I can do that.” You looked up at the man still watching you with a predatory smile.

“Whatever my friend Lloyd wants you to do, do it.” He said bluntly.

“I’m sorry? I don’t understand.” Your forehead scrunched at that.

Carmichael sighed across the line. “Fine, let me put it this way, whenever he inevitably finishes up whatever shitty play he’s doing to get you in his bed, get in it.”

You paled at that. “You can’t expect me to-“

“I can and I do. Hansen is too important of an asset to lose because you’re a prude. You can choose not to, but you’ll have to have your desk cleared by Monday.”

“I-“

“Yeah you heard me right. Fuck him, or your fired.”

#fanfic #reader insert #llyod hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #the grey man #court gentry #court gentry x y/n #court gentry x reader #court gentry x you #court gentry x female reader #sierra six #six x reader #sierra six x reader #sierra six x y/n #sierra six x you

[onceuponastory]

family - sierra six/court gentry x reader

Plot: When Claire is missing her old life and hobbies after everything that happened, Six knows what to do. // Requested by anon. Pairing: Sierra Six/Court Gentry (I use both names in this) x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death, kidnapping, trauma, scarring and nightmares. Also some mentions of reader seeing/hearing things that aren’t there. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: My Six streak continues! Thanks anon for the request! I hope you like it.

Once again, not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Morning Claire.” Y/N smiles, dishing up their breakfast as she sits down at the table.

“Morning Y/N. Where’s Six?” Y/N frowns as her brain swims with thoughts. Thoughts on how to tell Claire that Six is outside cleaning up after another assassin tried to break in last night. Then again, Claire probably knows already. She’s a smart kid, and even though she’s tough as nails (especially with her heart condition), Y/N can still tell that this whole thing is upsetting her. Being kidnapped, losing her uncle and then almost losing both her and Court has been tough. On all of them. 

Tenderly, Y/N runs her finger along the scar on her abdomen. The scar left on her by Lloyd Hansen, who still haunts her nightmares to this day. Even though he’s been dead for at least a month now, she’s still terrified of him somehow coming back and finding them again. And especially finishing the job he started. Sometimes, Y/N swears she hears his laugh or his voice when nobody is there. Even though Six always checks each lock before they go to bed, Y/N’s still terrified. Lloyd Hansen infiltrated and corrupted every aspect of their safe, happy lives. And he’s still doing it now, even in death. Like some sort of boogeyman.

“Morning.” Court’s voice sounds as he walks into the room, cutting through her thoughts. Y/N breathes a small sigh of relief. It’s over. It’s just the three of us. Just focus on the good times. He takes her into his arms, gently pecking her on the lips. “You alright?” He whispers, noticing the fear in her expression. Y/N nods. “Y/N….” He trails off, but she shakes her head.

“Not here. I’m okay. Promise.” She murmurs. Reluctantly, Court nods, and the pair sits down with Claire to eat.

“I know what you’re both gonna say….” Claire says suddenly, and Y/N and Court raise a brow. “But I was wondering if we could go see a movie? Instead of being stuck in the house?” Seeing the look on their faces, she sighs. “Or not.” 

“I’m sorry. It’s just not safe yet.” Court sighs as Y/N reaches over to take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. Despite her obvious disappointment, Claire fixes a smile on her face, and she nods. Y/N feels her heart breaking. She’d love more than anything to say yes, and for the three of them to spend a day together doing normal family things. But it’s just not possible. Especially since the CIA and everyone else Court pissed off are still hunting them. Being on the run and hiding are the only things that can keep them safe. 

Still, it’s not fair to Claire to be stuck inside, wasting her days in case someone spots them. If Y/N could, she’d take it all away from her and just give her a normal life. Her trauma, her condition, everything. All gone.

If only life worked like that.

“Thanks for breakfast. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Claire murmurs, pushing her chair out and leaving the room.

“Poor kid.” Y/N sighs as she watches her go. “I wish we could do something.”

“Actually.” Court muses. “I think we can.” Quickly, he gets up, pressing another kiss to her temple. “I have some things to do.” Before she can even ask what he means, or if he wants her to help, he’s gone, and Y/N is left alone at the table, frowning.

What the hell is he planning?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Claire, sweetheart, are you okay?” Y/N asks a few hours later, knocking on her door. It’s been a while since she went inside and shut her door, and even though she can still hear her records playing, Y/N is getting worried. It’s not like her to be so quiet. “Do you want something to eat? A drink?” No further noise sounds, and Y/N’s heart rate increases as she panics that something bad has happened. Yet, just before she’s about to call Court to break the door down, it opens, and Claire’s head pops out. The red rim around her eyes shows she’s been crying, and Y/N’s heart sinks. “Oh, love.” She soothes, opening her arms out for Claire to come in for a hug, which she does.

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs into Y/N’s sweater, making Y/N’s heart break all over again. It’s not her fault. None of this is. “I’ve just been missing my uncle a lot recently, and with everything that’s happened-” Another sob sounds, and Claire squeezes Y/N a little tighter.

“Sweetheart, it's not your fault. Six and I understand. It’s awful being stuck in here all the time.” Y/N tells her, gently stroking her hair. “But I promise you, we love you very much, and we will always protect you.”

“I love you too.” She replies, and Y/N almost starts crying at that. The girls stay cuddled together for a while, until Court’s voice sounds.

“Hey, what’s-” Without another word, Claire detaches herself from Y/N, and immediately tackles him in a hug, knocking him off guard slightly. Court looks up at Y/N, and when he sees the tears in her eyes, he understands. “Oh.” He murmurs. Wrapping one arm around Claire, he opens his other one, which Y/N cuddles into. The trio stay there for a while, safe in each other’s embrace. “I have a surprise for you.” Court says after a while. “Follow me.” He gestures down the hallway, and the girls do as he asks. He leads them towards the living room, and they gasp when they see what he’s done.

Fairy lights stretch across the room, illuminating it with their soft glow. Blankets and cushions lay across the couch, and bowls of snacks and ice cream sit on the coffee table. A movie, no doubt Claire’s favourite, is set up on the TV. “I know it’s not exactly the same as the movie theatre, but I hope it’s just as good.” A warm feeling, one of love, fills Y/N’s entire body. They’re so lucky to have him. 

“Thank you!” Claire squeals, giving Court another squeeze before running over to the couch and burying herself under the blankets. Y/N squeezes Court’s hand. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” She whispers, and he smiles.

“Just for you two.” He kisses her softly, and she moans happily, melting into his embrace once more.

“Guys, come on! The movie is about to start!” Claire’s voice sounds, and Y/N and Court break apart, laughing. They join her under the blanket, and all three snuggle in together as the movie plays. In their brief time together, the three have been through a lot, and there’s undoubtedly more to come. Yet, moments like this, spent together and as a family show that maybe things will be alright after all. 

As long as they’re together.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This is just a reminder that I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @onceuponastory-library​ and turn on my notifications to be notified when I next post.

#sierra six x reader #sierra six x you #sierra six x y/n #sierra six #court gentry x reader #court gentry x you #court gentry x y/n #court gentry #the gray man #the gray man fanfic #the gray man spoilers #the gray man fanfiction

[arrieebooks]

Can you write something with Sierra Six and reader? Maybe she helps patch him up, so angsty soft and smutty? Pls and ty!!!👍

Healed

Precious Weapon Drabble after chapter five.

Pairing : Sierra Six x F!OC (Elle) x hints of Lloyd Hansen

Summary : Six gets hurt during a mission and she heals him.

Warnings : Unrealistic healing. Injury. Stab wound. Blood. Hurt. Comfort. Angst. a little arguing. Shower smut. Fingering. Hand job. Fluff. Soft.

Word count : 2.9k words. (I'm sorry it was supposed to be short but I just couldn't lol)

Author's note : You ask and you shall receive <3 By the way, this takes place just a few days after chapter five. And I just wanted to say thank you for requesting this because it really adds to the plot by showing how much she really cares about him. Feel free to request more in the future!

***

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Just in and out. But things went a little sideways.

They were assigned to extract some evidence to shut down an illegal food factory in the city and then call the local police on them.

Elle and Six were the ones who went in but while she was getting the data in the storage room, a few guys were about to attack her with some cooking knives.

She could’ve handled it by herself, knock them down with one punch or if she was even stabbed, she would’ve healed right away. But, of course, he had to jump in. He didn’t want to see her hurt. He couldn’t let that happen. It’s his mission to protect her, technically.

He had fought them all off and knocked them down but when it was done, he looked down to see that he was already stabbed in his abdomen. It was a deep cut and he was loosing a lot of blood.

She was frantic. Panicking. She immediately rushed him out of there with the evidence in her bag and went back inside their getaway car.

She was trying so hard to contain herself as the car drove extremely fast after she kept urging them to. He looked fine for someone who’s loosing a lot of blood and was stabbed with an extremely sharp knife. He’s used to this. Pain. Blood. He experienced this in every single mission he took. It was almost normal for him. But it’s not normal for her. Seeing the man she really cares about hurt like this because he was trying to protect her, makes her look even more in pain than he is. The last time he saw him hurt was also because of her. He took two bullets for her.

She has her hand pressed down on his wound to try to stop the bleeding while he leans back against his seat and his eyes have been glued onto her this whole time. He doesn’t feel that much pain with her. He felt like he was already better just by focusing on her instead of the pain. He’s been quiet. Not a single groan or wince from his mouth. Because this is an everyday thing for him. Getting shot, stabbed or even burned. He’s always had to patch himself up if it wasn’t a grave wound. This is the first time he’s ever had someone with him. To take care of him. Clean him up. Heal him. He hasn’t gotten used to that yet.

“You’ll be okay—We’re almost there a-and then I’ll heal you, okay?” Elle anxiously tells him but really she’s trying to convince herself and not him. Her voice is shaky and her breathing is unsteady.

Six sighs softly, his hand rests on top of hers that is pressed onto his wound. Their hands sticky and full of blood, staining the car seats. “Hey, look at me. Elle,” he whispers calmly and her worried eyes quickly meets his.

“I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” he flatly says with a sincere meaning. He can’t see her like this. Like he’s dying and she’s about mourn his death. He knows he’s not. He has been through so much worse than this and still pulled through and survived. He always survives. Somehow.

She gulps, nodding to convince him but her face is still showing that she’s clearly terrified and agitated. She’s never been so scared in her life. She doesn’t even get scared anymore when she gets hurt. She’ll always heal and live. She wished that she could heal him right now but he refused because he knows she can’t properly heal him like this, cramped up in this small space and panicking.

***

It was an utter mess when they got back to the penthouse. Blood was spilling everywhere on the floor and all over the places as she brought him to his room and laid him down on his bed.

She sat next to him before ripping his white shirt apart, not caring about a single thing anymore. Not even about Lloyd who has been telling her to stop panicking and being scared, that she’ll just be too compromised to heal him.

“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd. I can heal him. I’ve done it before.” she snaps, throwing his ruined shirt onto the floor somewhere as her eyes examine the open wound on his lower abdomen, blood still continuing to spill out of it.

“Jesus, relax. That’s what I've been trying to tell you. Calm the fuck down so we can get this over with.” Lloyd argues back, standing behind her.

She exhales, her fingers hovering the wound. “Look, maybe you should wait outside so I could focus better, please?” she requests from him, without looking back at him.

Lloyd just hums in response before stepping out of the room to give them more space. He understands. Only in situations like this. And only for her and him.

Her eyes glanced at Six and his eyes are trying to calm her down too by staring at her like everything’s fine. She inhales a sharp breath and pulling herself together before placing both of her hands on the open wound as gently as possible, closing her eyes while she focuses on her energy. After a few seconds, he could feel heat radiating from her hands and starting to feel his wound healing slowly along with skin beginning to close up.

Six sighs out of relief. “Thank you, Elle.” he breathes out.

Removing her hands from him, she quickly looks down at his now healed skin. It’s completely restored but there’s still blood from the outside. She sighs too, gazing back up at him and her lips break into a small smile, her face slowly relaxing at the sight of him not being hurt anymore.

“See? You did it. I never doubted you.” he encourages her, his crimson hands reaching out to her face and incidentally tainting her cheeks with his blood as he cups her face.

She suddenly frowns at him. “Don’t ever do that again.” she warns.

He stares at her confusedly. “Do what? Protect you? It’s my mission, Elle. I can’t avoid that.” he states.

She shakes her head. “You’re not my bodyguard or some shit. You’re my…partner. My teammate. I can’t just let you get hurt for me like that. It wouldn’t be such a fucking mess if I was the one who got hurt instead.” Elle sharply says.

Six furrows his brows, still confused on why she’s arguing about this. He can’t not protect her. That would mean he failed a mission and he’s never done that before. But she’s not just a mission for him. He couldn’t just stand by and watch her get hurt. He’s not a coward.

“You’re too valuable to get stabbed like that. You don’t deserve that.” he affirms.

She scoffs gently. “And you do? Do you have some kind of death wish or something? Do you not give a fuck that you almost died?” she retorts.

“I didn’t almost die. It was just a flesh wound. I’m used to that.” Six flatly tells her.

“But I was really fucking scared! I’m not used to that, Six. I can’t bare to see you hurt because I care too much. And you don’t even seem to be scared for yourself.” she frantically snaps, her voice slightly cracks.

He sighs, now understanding why she was fighting him on this. She was scared for him. She thought that they wouldn’t have gotten here in time to heal him and he’d just eventually lose too much blood and it would’ve been too late. But she was too clouded by her fear of losing him to realize that it didn’t cut any of his internal organs — she could've known that if she took the time to actually think clearly. He would’ve lived anyway if he lost too much blood. She’s just never been so afraid like that. She hated feeling it.

“Elle, you can’t spend your time worrying about me during a mission. I signed up for this. I have done this for almost two decades now.” Six gently tells her. He needs her to understand that it’s okay for him to get hurt.

Her face is anxious again. Her eyes are red and tears slowly start to show up. “You have no fucking idea how scared I was.” she confesses, shaking her head before leaning down onto him and hugging him.

She softly sobbed into his chest. She didn’t care anymore that they’re both stained of a lot of blood now. He let his hands caress her hair, trying to comfort her but she just kept on crying. It’s not like this is the first time that she’s cried in front of him. She’s not scared to show how vulnerable she is to him. She trusts him that much.

***

They got into the shower after her little meltdown earlier. He didn’t say anything to her, he just let her cried to get it all out. She feels better now.

Way better now that they’re both bare naked under the shower of his bathroom, the water washing off all the blood. They haven’t said anything to each other at all. But it’s peaceful this way for both of them.

“I’m sorry. For snapping at you like that. You were right. You were just doing your part in the mission. Protecting the weapon.” She says, without any emotions because she’s exhausted and tired already.

Six takes a careful step towards her and brushes his hand on her cheek. She leans into his touch and lets herself relax, closing her eyes for a split second.

“You’re not a weapon to me. You’re just you, Elle. I hope it stays that way. I like you this way.” he murmurs softly at her face, staring intently at her.

She breaks into a soft laugh, opening her eyes to stare up at his. “I’ll always be me, you know. Never going to change.” she says, her lips tugged into a faint smile.

He chuckles though his nose. “Good.” Six whispers before pulling her in by her waist as he kisses her gently and slowly. It’s how they are. They’ve never been rough before. There’s still passionate and spark but it’s just softer and soothing. Not like with her and Lloyd. She doesn’t get comfort from him. She always gets it from Six. He barely does anything but he’s always there for her and does anything she asks of him.

He doesn't ever want to be rough with her even though she can take it and likes it but he prefers to treat her as delicate as possible. In truth, he's always treated every woman he's slept with roughly. He never cared about them — he didn't let himself to care. Except for her. He cares too much about her. Because she's precious and too fucking valuable. That's why he's always so gentle and tender with her.

She breathes heavier as she deepens the kiss, leaning onto his naked body. “Are you still hurt?” she asks him against his mouth, resting her hands on his bare chest.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m all healed. Because of you.” he answers, pulling his lips away from her for an inch to stare down at her desperate eyes. He already knows what she needs now. He always does. Sometimes, he fucks her to sleep so she could fall asleep better. That’s her comfort with him. He provides anything she needs, whenever.

She smiles and presses her lips onto his again, pulling him closer by his hips as her hands move toward his dick. But he grabs her hands to stop her.

He breaks the kiss again to talk more. “I can’t fuck you here, Elle. Too slippery and it’ll get uncomfortable for you.” Six tells her in a sincere but serious tone. He cares more about her well-being being than his hard dick. He could handle a little pain for her. He already did, earlier.

She makes a low whining sound and he cups her face gently. He sure loves doing that a lot. Her innocent eyes look up at him. “But I could still do something for you. For healing me. That was probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, you know that?” Six whispers as softly as possible.

“I’d do anything for you, you know. Anything that I’m capable of.” she softly promises him. He has never had someone willing to do anything for him, he’s always had to take care of himself.

“That’s so fucking sweet of you, Elle.” Six curses, in the heat of the moment. He rarely curses because he doesn’t usually express himself out loud. Not even when he’s angry or fucking someone. Sometimes he does, but it’s not often and he’s always selective of the time and place. But this time, she really made him forget about everything.

She breaks into a soft chuckle, looking down at his dick growing harder by the second and she bits her bottom lips before staring back at him. “I think we can help each other out, don’t you think?” she teasingly purposes.

He hums in response. “I agree.” he murmurs as his fingers move down onto her clit and slowly rubs it, feeling her wetness against his skin. She’s already wet from the shower but also from being with him naked like this. He knows her body well already. What she’s comfortable with, what gets her wet and what she prefers for him to do. They haven’t even known each other for long.

She lets out that soft moan that he’s familiar with already and has memorized it in his head — it’s like music to his ears by now. Her fingers slide through his hair as he leans down onto her to leave soft kisses on her neck. “You can put it inside me right now, right here. Please,” she begs him and he knows what she’s asking of him.

He lifts his head to look at her and frowns. “No. Not here. Later.” Six flatly says with a soft but stern tone. He doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable by fucking her under this shower even though she’s practically begging for it. He knows what’s best for her more than she does.

A whimper comes off of her lips and she whines. “We won’t have time later. After this is dinner and after dinner…Lloyd would probably want his turn tonight.” she complains, softly. It’s not that she prefers him over Lloyd but right now, she really needs him more than anything.

He chuckles quietly. “Then we don’t need to. But making you feel good is my main priority right now. Lloyd can fucking wait.” And there it is again, he cursed. It is so out of place for him to do this. Yet, he’s allowing himself to let himself loose for this moment only and for her.

She lets out a surprised but relief gasp, staring hungrily at his lonely lips. “Yeah, he can wait.” she whispers before smashing her lips against his and he quickly deepens the kiss, but even with his quick pace, he still makes sure to be tender with her anyhow.

Six places his other free hand on the back of her head while he pushes her onto the wall and her head rest against his palm. Even in this heated moment, he still ensures her safety so her head doesn’t hit the hard wall. Always taking care of her no matter what. It’s become his habit now.

Moving his hand lower from her clit onto her cunt, he inserts two of his fingers inside of her and she lets out another soft muffled moan against his mouth. He wished he could swallow her pretty little sounds so he could listen to them everyday, but he already does. Every night, actually.

Blinded by her pleasure, she shuts her eyes closed but still manages to use both of her hands to reach out for his hard, pulsing cock. She slowly strokes his length and he allows himself to release a soft grunt as her little magic hands grip him as perfectly as possible, he could already feel that he’s close. She’s so fucking good at this and she doesn’t even do it often. Her strength is really useful in bed but she’s only ever use it on them.

She lets out a breathy moan as her lips slowly curve into a satisfied smile. “You know… you make me feel so good already, Six. You don’t even have to try.” she praises him faintly against his lips and there’s almost a wide smile stretching on his lips that she could feel. He doesn’t need to be praised. But, somehow, it felt so damn good to hear it from her lips.

Six slowly pulls his lips away from hers as she whines before he leans down onto her ear, his fingers curled inside her and sunk deeper. She moans loudly as he gets his mouth close to her ear while his teeth nibbles on her skin gently.

“I know that, baby. I know.” he whispers and it’s the first ever time that he’s ever uttered sweet words like that to anyone. He’s enjoying the moment too much and her.

She changed him. He knows that, too. He willingly allowed her.

#sierra six smut #sierra six #sierra six x reader #the gray man #court gentry x reader #court gentry #court gentry x y/n #sierra six x y/n #sierra six x you #sierra six x female reader #court gentry x female reader #the gray man fanfiction #ryan gosling

[slutforsilverfoxes]

can you do part 2 of the sierra six smut where they meet again?? I absolutely loved it !!!

A/N: Wild Child by the Black Keys is such a perfect outro for The Gray Man- I also think it’s perfect for describing Six & reader’s relationship. This fic admittedly wrote itself over the past couple of weeks, and it just kept getting longer and longer 🥲 I don’t know if I like how it progressed because I’ve finished bits and pieces of it at odd hours whilst in the hospital, but I hope y’all like it! It’s got a lil dash of every genre thrown in there (ya girl loves her flavor 👩🏾‍🍳) Also I apologize in advance if anything seems OOC for Court, I did my best but I’m still nervous about writing for him 🙈

Tags: @ejhpmarvelsimp

———

“Contact?”

“Negative,” you readjust the comm device in your ear and pull your lipstick out of your handbag, pursing your lips in the car’s rearview mirror to apply a shock of red. “Oasis is too smart for that. Just tailing for now.”

“Timeline?” your handler follows up bluntly, pulling an eye roll from you in retaliation.

“Can you speak in more than two syllables? You know, sometimes you’re the only person I speak to for weeks at a time.”

“Do you have an estimated timeline?”

You sigh, muttering out a, “Thank you,” for the technical adherence to your request before laying out the details of your proposed op. “…and that should give me the in to confirm that she’s distributing Rainbow,” you conclude. “So at least three weeks to make contact, get comfy, and catch her in the act.”

“Can we accelerate that to two weeks?”

“No,” you make a face in the mirror, grateful that the conversation is audio only. “I’m going to need a little more time to catch a soccer mom by day, cartel head by night.”

“Affirmative, Agent. Carmichael wants a status report in 72 hours.”

The line goes dead with a soft click as you mock your handler under your breath, “Carmichael wants a status report in 72 hours. Yeah? Well, Denny can suck my left tit, fucking-”

You continue grumbling as you climb out of the car and sling your purse over your shoulder before dropping your features into a bored expression and tucking a pair of stupidly expensive sunglasses into your hair- more of a statement piece than protective eyewear, really.

Snagging a shopping cart from just outside the entrance, you step into the grocery store and begin cruising down the aisles on the hunt for your target. You eventually find her by the fresh produce, judiciously sniffing limes in an apparent search for freshness. Your facial muscles twitch with the urge to frown at the odd display, but instead you suppress your natural inclination and force a smile as her gaze lifts to meet yours. She flashes her pearly whites in return, none the wiser, and you direct your eyes toward the aromatics. You don’t want her growing suspicious, and you’re fairly confident not even Oasis would have the balls to be openly dealing Rainbow in the produce section of the only grocery store in town.

She turns her way down an aisle and you toss some parsley and thyme into your cart with a shrug before easing into the parallel aisle, a soft gasp leaving your parted lips at the sight before you.

Who but Sierra fucking Six is standing in the middle of the bakery and breakfast section, arguing about the merits of chocolate versus fruit-flavored cereal with a teenage girl, a box of each dwarfed in his large hands. Having apparently relented to the young girl’s whims, he tosses both boxes in their cart before leaning against the handle as he plans out his next tactical move, easing a scrap of paper out of the back pocket of his jeans. You can’t help but follow the movement of his nimble fingers as they search his pocket, marveling over the way the denim hugs his muscular legs and the curve of his ass. Letting your gaze travel back up, heat floods your cheeks at the way his t-shirt stretches over his taut muscles, the fabric looking almost comical, the seams practically begging to be let out as they suffocate on his biceps. He smooths a hand over his goatee as he laughs at something the teen said, the movement drawing your eyes further upward. His honey-blonde hair has grown out a bit since you last saw him, still neatly trimmed but now with a few loose strands falling across his forehead. Despite physically looking the same, there’s a different air to Six. He seems almost… comfortable.

Domesticity suits him well (and somehow manages to make him even more attractive), and you find your thoughts wandering to his role in this girl’s life. Is he a single dad? Uncle? Is she his latest protective assignment?

The duo disappears in the blink of an eye and you half-wonder if your target slipped some of her product into the veggie sprinklers causing you to hallucinate. There’s no way you’re seeing Six stateside in a grocery store in the middle of Nowhere, USA after spending eight months traipsing across Europe.

Clearing your thoughts with a slight shake of your head, you catch up to your target and continue following her around the store, absentmindedly tossing grocery items into your cart and stopping to peruse the wine rack as she does the same.

An alluring mix of cologne and distinct masculine musk wafts over you sending your sympathetic nervous system into overdrive, your heart thudding against your ribcage.

Evidently you hadn’t been drugged.

“That white pairs great with a good branzino,” an all too familiar silky voice drapes languidly across your body causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

Without looking up, you retort, “Thanks for the advice, but I won’t be enjoying it. It’s for my boss.”

“Does your boss have a Prada purse,” he murmurs by your ear, his sheer proximity making you shiver, “because she’s looking this way.”

“I’m sure everything in this town with a pulse is looking this way,” you shoot back, still unwilling to meet his eyes.

“Then let’s give them something to look at.” You register the teasing lilt to his voice moments before his fingers are tucking under your chin, tilting your head up to press his supple lips against your own.

The bottle of wine remains in your hand as you throw your arms around his neck in an attempt to get as close as physically possible, your eyelids fluttering closed as memories of your night together pervade your senses.

“Y/N,” he growled softly, deep voice bringing you out of your reverie. You picked your head up to find his gaze locked on yours, the sight of his lust blown pupils and reddened lips causing your breath to come out in sharp pants. “Eyes on me.”

And then his mouth was on you, consuming you from the inside out and trapping you in a world of him until the only discernible word falling from your lips was his name.

“Nice to see you again, old timer,” you whisper against his lips, pulling back with a smile, finally opening your eyes and instantly drowning in a sea of blue.

“Told you I’d find you, kid,” a triumphant smirk has the audacity to grace his beautiful mouth.

“Uh no,” you hold up a finger in contradiction, glancing over his shoulder to ensure Oasis is still in sight, “technically I found you.”

“But were you looking for me?”

“Shut up,” you place your hand against his chest and shove, only succeeding in moving him a few inches but enough to ease the wine bottle into your cart. The man is more tree than human and the unbidden image of you climbing his body flashes through your mind.

“So,” he breaks you out of your lustful thoughts, leaning against your cart handle and offering you the perfect window to track your target as you talk- she’s suddenly very interested in the white wine, her eyes darting over to the two of you every so often- “what’s your boss got you up to these days?”

“Mergers and acquisitions, the usual,” you shrug easily. Murders and asset retrieval.

“New business in town?” He cocks an eyebrow out of curiosity, fingers slipping into the front pocket of his jeans before returning triumphantly with a piece of gum.

Your mouth goes dry as he wets his lips before snagging the rectangle between his teeth, torturously pulling the pink gum into his mouth bit by bit. “A colorful one,” you rasp out, subtly keying him in to your operation surrounding the quiet expansion of Rainbow.

He nods in acknowledgment, chewing thoughtfully. “So I’ll be seeing you around.” He presses a kiss to your lips, turns on his heel, and disappears in a wave of woodsy cologne, the faint taste of watermelon gum, and a parting wink thrown over his shoulder.

———

Days later you’re parked in the school carpool lane gathering intel on Oasis and her teenagers, your sedan four vehicles behind her massive SUV. You let your head rest against the cracked driver-side window as your eyes scan the parents and guardians milling about. Your eyes continue cataloguing faces as your brain checks out, thoughts drifting to your friendly neighborhood blonde-haired, blue-eyed, sinfully-tongued former partner in crime. You haven’t seen him since that day in the grocery store, and even though you’re grateful that he hasn’t been around to distract you, you can’t help but expect him to be walking along every corner you round. Although, truth be told, you’d be very surprised to see Six at the establishments that Oasis frequents.

Your mind drifts back for the umpteenth time this week to a moment you shared at HQ with Agent Miranda after you picked up your dossier for this op. “Quaint little town, nice change of pace,” she smiled as you crossed paths in the hall. Leaning forward conspiratorially, she tacked on, “Watch out for Six!”

You’ve spent one too many brain cells analyzing and overanalyzing her words- surely she meant Watch your six, and happened to mix up the idiom. But Dani was nothing if not intentional with her diction, and you swore you’d heard her correctly. If that was the case, had she and Six stayed in touch since his curious departure from the agency? Had the Sierra Six, the Gray Man, the expert silent assassin, Mister No Worldly Possessions or Connections been…asking about you?

Your passenger door suddenly flies open, the hulking form taking up space in your mind rent-free folding its way into your car, the familiar whiff of cologne forcing your coiled muscles to relax- marginally.

“Put the safety back on, cowgirl.”

“Why?” you demand, no patience for pleasantries.

“Because I like my face intact. Nails look pretty,” he juts his chin to indicate your fresh manicure, courtesy of your target’s weekly visits for fill-ins.

“No,” you refine your question coolly, retracting your trigger finger and replacing the safety on your weapon, “why are you here? In my car? Potentially blowing my cover?”

“Came to pick up my Claire, saw you,” he shrugs as if this is an everyday occurrence for two highly trained operatives, glancing at passerby and students on the sidewalk to ensure no one’s taken an interest in you two.

“Your Claire, hm?” You raise your coffee cup to your lips and take a long drag, the combination of the caffeine and heat sending your neurons buzzing.

“Kind of my niece, kind of my little sister,” he elaborates, keeping an eye out the window for her. “She’s Fitz’s niece, but y’know how our life goes,” he shrugs again, the only semblance of emotion he’ll allow himself to show. “So she’s my Claire now.”

“Court,” your lips pull into a frown and you reach for his hand on instinct, catching the subtle lift of the corner of his mouth in response. The simple gesture is enough for him to understand what you’re trying to say.

“Kid and I have a pretty good thing going here, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a lady friend in her life,” he muses softly, studiously watching the middle schoolers fly out the front doors and avoiding your gaze as if you’ll be able to see all of his vulnerabilities and insecurities in his stormy eyes.

Sensing an opportunity to break down another one of his walls, you cry out, “Why, yes, Court, I will marry you!”

He barks out a laugh and shakes his head, playfully knuckling against the soft skin of your cheek as your mouth twists into a wry smile. “Let’s start with dinner first.” He eases the passenger door open and steps out onto the sidewalk, offering you a slip of paper between his index and middle fingers through the crack of the window.

You unfold the paper to find a local address in his scrawl, calling to his retreating back, “What time?”

“Guess.”

———

You rock back and forth on your heels on the doorstep at six in the evening, a fresh bottle of the fateful white wine in your hands. The paneling detail on the front door is suddenly fascinating, allowing you to hyper-focus on anything but the nerves fluttering in your stomach. You’ve taken out corrupt diplomats, toppled drug cartels, faced some of the most dangerous men and women that the devil himself would shy away from, all by your mid-twenties, yet you’ve got butterflies in your tummy at the prospect of failing to earn a teenage girl’s approval.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

If you’re honest with yourself, you’re not sure why you’re nervous. Operatives don’t have the luxury of falling in love and playing house. Sure, you enjoyed your time with the Sierra and the sex was incredible, but you both know that nothing more could ever come of this. Y’know how our life goes, Six himself had said, and he was damn right.

“You must be Y/N.” You lift your eyes to meet the brunette’s sharp gaze, her eyes quietly scrutinizing you as she does a subtle once over.

“You must be Claire,” you offer your hand in greeting and she shakes it firmly, all business.

She spots the floral tattoo on your shoulder and the corner of her mouth lifts in a manner matching that of her guardian, “I like your ink.” Claire cranes her neck to gaze further into the house and you hear a huff in response to her unspoken question.

“Absolutely not.”

“But-”

“Nope,” Six comes into view and pulls the door open further, beckoning you inside.

“Regretting adding that lady friend to her life?” you tease as you step through the doorway, toeing off your shoes in the corner of the foyer as Claire grumbles on about almost an adult and annoyingly overprotective.

“Not quite yet, but I’m sure we’ll get there,” he smirks at you, enjoying the way your nose scrunches indignantly in response. You follow the two of them into the dining room, your mouth immediately beginning to water at the delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. “When’s the last time you had a proper home-cooked meal?” Court asks with a smile as he places your proffered wine bottle on the table.

“Properly? Ten years, give or take,” you shrug, your voice dropping to nearly a whisper as you busy yourself playing with the hem of your shirt. You honestly can’t remember the last time you had a nice dinner with enjoyable company, not at a group home or hostel, not on a honey-pot mission, not memorizing a dossier on a shitty hotel couch while forcing down a frozen meal before heading out under the cover of night.

In a surprising display of affection that makes your chest warm for reasons you don’t have time to unpack, Court presses his lips against your temple, bringing you back to the present. “Then I sincerely hope you enjoy this one.”

“And I sincerely hope you didn’t go through all this trouble just for me.”

You follow him into the kitchen to help, taking the plates Claire passes to you from the cabinet as she quietly confides, “We definitely ordered in but someone was very particular about the menu.”

You and Six fall into a comfortable silence as Claire chats about her day, setting forks on the placemats as you gently lay the plates down behind her. You watch, mesmerized, as the blonde nimbly uncorks the sweet wine and divvies it up between your glasses. Something about setting the table together, doing such a normal nuclear family activity, humanizes the two of you, and you’re surprised that the motions have come back to you so naturally.

Six eases your chair out and you smile up at him as you take your seat. Dinner progresses with easy conversation, but then the agent in you senses the shift in the air and you know the teen is gearing up for trouble.

“So…” Claire drags out the word, flaking off a piece of the immaculately cooked fish, “how did you meet Six?”

“Work,” the two of you rush out in unison, meeting each other’s gaze across the table. Claire smirks knowingly at her guardian and Six makes a face at her in response, mouthing something you can’t quite catch.

Raising an eyebrow and looking between the two of them you ask, “Am I missing something here?”

“Don’t answer that,” he threatens playfully with a pointed finger at the youngster.

She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows, and you can’t help the grin that appears on your face from their shared mannerisms. “Are you gonna let me try the wine?”

“For the second time this evening, absolutely not.”

“Fine,” Claire smiles angelically, turning her full attention towards you. “Courtland’s been talking about you nonstop for the past couple weeks.”

He growls something unintelligible and your hand flies to your mouth, hiding your chuckle in a cough.

“Don’t choke,” Court admonishes, his tone implying that he wouldn’t be too upset if you happened to suffer for just a moment.

“Thanks for your concern, Courtland,” you simper.

“As I was saying,” Claire clears her throat to redirect your attention, a smug smile gracing her features, “some days I still can’t get more than three words out of him, but suddenly he’s thinking about you and turns into quite the conversationalist.”

“That’s interesting,” you pause to sip your wine, an eyebrow arching in Six’s direction, “because he was very vocal when we first met.”

His jaw ticks and his eyes narrow at your innuendo, and you both know you’re thinking about his low grunts and growls as he fucked you all those months ago. Nothing if not consistent, he merely grunts now in acknowledgement.

“What’s the matter, Court?” you smile easily. “Cat got your tongue?”

He clears his throat and stands from the table abruptly- a bold move considering his dick is already stiffening at the thought of your soft skin beneath his fingertips once again. “Dessert, anyone?”

“You know I’ll never turn down ice cream,” Claire grins.

You scoot your chair back from the table, gathering the plates as you stand. “I’ll come help.”

“Oh, I bet you will,” the blonde grumbles under his breath, subtly adjusting his pants as he walks to the kitchen.

You purposefully brush up against him on your way to the sink and he bites back a groan. “Do you not have work to do tonight, Agent?”

“Drug pushing mommy’s gotta sleep,” you shrug, rinsing the plates off, “and so do I.”

“Just sleep?” he murmurs in your ear, gliding his nose down the curve of your neck and pressing his body against you so you can feel the full weight of his question.

You let your head fall back with a sigh offering him better access to the sensitive skin of your neck. “Court,” it’s a whine, a plea, a gentle nudge in the right direction.

“Suspiciously quiet in there!” the teenager calls from the dining room, earning herself a low, chastising, “Claire…”

“You’re quite the daddy,” you test the waters with your compliment, relishing the way his eyes flash at the title and filing that tidbit away for later.

His gaze drops to your parted lips and he licks his own before pulling away and opening the freezer. “Vanilla or chocolate?” he asks calmly, appreciating the cold snapping him back to his senses.

“Chocolate,” you hum, unable to resist the urge to slap his ass as he’s bent over perusing the shelves. He jumps at the sudden contact and you laugh delightedly at your ability to keep arguably the world’s greatest assassin on edge. “I’m not a big fan of vanilla.”

———

Your earpiece crackles to life later that night, your handler’s tinny voice coming through with, “Where the fuck are you, Y/L/N?”

“Little,” you breathe out, “busy right now.” Court grins wickedly, languidly kissing down your nearly naked body and dragging his stubble against your sensitive skin before nipping along the meat of your thigh.

“That’s not an answer. Why is your heart rate skyrocketing?”

“Oh, y’know,” you suck in air through your teeth as the handsome devil nuzzles your folds over your panties, forcing you to bite down on your hand to avoid becoming a little too familiar with your handler. “Went for a run.”

You tug sharply on Six’s locks to get him to stop, but the feeling of your nails against his scalp serves the opposite purpose. He yanks the frilly fabric covering your core down with a vengeance and presses the flat of his tongue against your folds, your hips rising of their own accord to meet his mouth halfway.

“Do you have an update for Carmichael?”

Your eyelids flutter shut when he nuzzles your clit with his nose, darting the tip of his tongue just past your wet folds. You force your eyes open and turn your head to the nightstand, focusing on the glaring 10:17 looking back at you.

“Can I get you a report in the morning?”

“Do you want to piss Denny off?”

“God, you’re annoyingly persistent,” you huff at both your handler and the blonde between your legs looking up at you with a sinful smile. “This operation goes a lot-” your voice catches in your throat and your head drops back against the pillow as Court plunges his tongue inside you, “deeper than I initially thought.”

“Elaborate.”

“I’m getting an intimate view of her soldiers,” you rasp out, subconsciously clamping your thighs around Six’s head as he eats you out like a man possessed, fingers digging into your skin to keep you down against the bed. “Need some more time to figure out their pecking order.”

“And then you’ll infiltrate?”

“Mhm, yeah, I’m close!” You hurriedly end the connection and release the wanton moan that’s been growing in your throat throughout the infuriating conversation, enjoying the way Court growls against your pussy in response. “I was serious,” you half laugh, half cry out, “about being close, Court.”

“I can feel it,” he rumbles, “so give it to me.” And then his tongue is spearing in and out of you, mapping out your most sensitive spots, curling in the most delicious of ways, devouring you, consuming you. He splays his fingers across your stomach to hold you in place as he feasts on you, his thumb moving to trace tight circular patterns around your clit and pushing you over the edge into sheer ecstasy. You cover your mouth with your hand as his name repeatedly falls past your lips like a prayer, keenly aware of the sleeping teen just down the hall.

“You look so beautiful like this,” Court sighs almost reverently, leaning on his elbows to brush his lips against yours as he smiles down at your blissfully fucked-out face.

You let your tongue slip into his mouth and tangle lazily with his, the fact that you can taste yourself on him making you delirious with desire. Trailing your fingers down his bare back, you tuck your hands under the waistband of his pants and squeeze his ass before shoving his remaining clothing down his muscular legs. He chuckles against your mouth at the sensation as he kicks off his pants and boxers, moving to kiss along your jaw as he eases his deliciously hard cock between your folds, teasing but not yet pushing into you. “Please,” you whine out, wrapping your legs around his lower back and pressing your heels against the taut muscle there, urging him to give in, to fill you up.

You confess around a gasp, “I’ve been thinking about this for the past eight months,” as Court mercifully slots himself between your thighs. He cups your jaw and presses his nose against the hollow of your throat as he rocks against you, drawing out a whine from the very depths of your being. Your heart flutters in your ribcage as he returns his lips to your own, your tongues tangling unhurriedly in a sensuous dance as he curves his hands around your shoulders and bottoms out with each gentle thrust. You realize, somewhat terrifyingly, that this doesn’t feel like your previous encounter when you were desperate to connect with another human and feel alive again. He’s taking his time with you, kissing you like his life depends on it, gently guiding you both towards orgasm. This man is leaving a brand on your soul, and you’re suddenly glad that your life is one of solitude because, you know now with an earth-shattering sense of clarity, no other lover will ever compare to him. Your chest swells with an uncharacteristic warmth at the thought as the coil in your belly snaps and you tighten around him, encouraging him to please fill me up, Court, please.

Last time, he made you feel human; now, he makes you feel whole.

You tuck yourself against his solid form, sharing lazy kisses as you card your fingers through his hair and bask in your afterglow when you suddenly sit up with a start, something Claire said over dinner having poked through your subconscious. “How long have you been keeping tabs on me?”

He rises slowly, brushing your hair onto your shoulder and pressing kisses to your neck. “Hm?”

“Court,” you admonish softly, “how long?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbles, now nibbling along your jaw in a blatant attempt to distract you.

“Claire said you’ve been talking about me for weeks. I’ve been here for eight days. Fess up.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Oh my god,” you smack his chest with the back of your hand as another realization dawns on you and he winces playfully. “You knew I was getting this op before I did!”

He falls back onto the pillow, folding his arms behind his head to watch you put the pieces together and making you want to forego your interrogation in lieu of wrapping your legs around him once more. “Did I?”

“And,” you force yourself to focus, “you have been tracking where I am through Dani, which means I’m not crazy and she really did say ‘Watch out for Six’!”

“Did she now?”

“I’ve been trying to convince myself she said ‘Watch your six’ for longer than I’d like to admit.”

“Loud guns have been known to cause hearing loss.”

“Courtland,” you growl out, “that is such a gross breach of confidentiality.” You huff, crossing your arms before begrudgingly admitting, “But it’s also weirdly sweet.”

“In that case,” he smiles angelically, “I’ve been checking on you since you walked down that hallway in Prague.”

“You could’ve called. Emailed. Relayed a message through Dani. Sent a fucking pigeon or something.”

“Y’know, the kids call it ‘tweeting’ these days.”

“You are-”

“Hilarious? Charming?”

“Infuriating,” you grumble, tugging the bedsheet up over your body and purposefully lying down facing away from him. He wraps one arm around you and effortlessly pulls you closer, your smaller form perfectly slotting into the curve of his large body. “I don’t like you.”

“Yeah? Glad we cleared that up,” he counters easily, slipping his arm under your head and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Courtland.”

“I will forever regret telling Claire my name.”

———

You wake the next day with a smile on your face, enveloped by the slightly spicy, woodsy scent that you’ve subconsciously come to associate with a sense of security. Rolling onto your side with a groan, you find a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt neatly folded into a pile in place of Court’s body. You wash up in the bathroom before donning the change of clothes, cuffing the pant legs to fit your petite frame. Following the scent of brewing coffee, you head into the kitchen and are greeted with the sight of Court in a strikingly similar casual outfit, hovering over the stove.

“Morning,” you hum, slipping onto one of the barstools and leaning your chin in your hands.

“Good morning,” he answers over his shoulder in return, stealing the very breath from your lungs with a dazzling smile. “Clothes fit okay?”

“Okay enough,” you laugh, sticking your leg out from behind the island counter so he can admire your handiwork.

“Good,” he nods once in approval, then turns his attention back to the stove. “Got some scrambled eggs and bacon going, coffee should be finishing up.”

You hop off the stool and snag two mugs from the cabinet, filling them nearly to the brim with room for a dash of creamer and enough sugar to satisfy your sweet tooth. The two of you move as easily through preparing breakfast as you had on your mission eight months ago, the memory bringing a smile to your face. Claire joins you in the kitchen a short time later, dropping her backpack onto the stool you’d vacated earlier and sharing a smile with her guardian as he slides a plate in front of her. “You two enjoy your sleepover?”

“Hey,” Court snaps his fingers with his eyes narrowed playfully, “eat your breakfast and get your ass in the car within the next fifteen minutes, Fitzroy.”

“You’d think you’d be in a better mood this morning, Gentry,” she shoots back, a gleam in her eye as she scoops up a forkful of eggs.

“Incredible, it’s like pay-per-view,” you mutter delightedly over the lip of your mug.

“You should hang out here all the time, we’re very entertaining,” Claire offers nonchalantly, and Court turns to you with one eyebrow quirked.

“What’s this whole thing you’ve got going on?” you question, pointing to your own brow. “Does that mean you concur?”

“I was gonna offer myself, but I wanted to talk to the kid first,” he shrugs with an easy smile. “I’ve stayed in enough of the agency’s sad apartments to know that our place is a substantial improvement.”

It turns out to be much more than a substantial improvement.

Over the next three weeks, you find yourself seamlessly blending into the household, using the two of them as your cover on family outings to track Oasis and her family. You and your once impromptu partner team up again on Friday nights, going on dates at the restaurants your target and her husband frequent- and God, does the blonde clean up nicely, a simple pair of slacks, a tight shirt, and a jacket accenting his muscles in just the right places. Most days, you return from your time ingratiating yourself with Oasis’ right hand men to Court and Claire either working at the dining room table or spread out on the couch watching a movie, a spot under the blanket calling your name. Court has taken to making your coffee just the way you like it every morning (all the while ribbing you about how it’s arguably more sugar than caffeine) while you prepare three lunches for the day ahead. He waits for you to return home every evening so you don’t dine alone, and you climb into the king-sized bed together every night, sometimes exploring each other’s bodies until dawn breaks, sometimes cuddling and talking about anything and everything until you drift off to a suspiciously restful sleep.

You find yourself lulled into a level of domesticity that you could get used to, a thought that both scares and excites you to your core. It’s the closest you’ve come to being part of a family in years, and the idea of losing it when this op ends makes your heart ache with a pain you swore you’d locked away the day you joined the agency.

———

“I’ve got the popcorn!” you sing, inelegantly flopping onto the couch and tucking your legs under you with the bowl in your lap on your fourth weekend at Casa FitzGentry, as you’ve come to privately call it. Court takes up his spot next to you, Claire settling into his other side before situating the large blanket across your little group and nodding for you to scoot the snack into Court’s lap. You reach forward to press play on the remote, starting yet another cheesy heist movie that you and the former Sierra enjoy critiquing as thunder rumbles in the distance. Halfway through the film, the power flickers momentarily and you and Court share a look, his hands almost imperceptibly tightening their grip around the two of you. Claire huffs quietly, used to the agent’s slight paranoia from a life spent looking over his shoulder, but she tucks herself further into the crook of her guardian’s arm nonetheless. The rest of the movie progresses uneventfully, and Claire lets out a yawn before bidding the two of you goodnight, smiling as you both insist that she lock her door- at least for tonight.

Assured that the teen is safe in her windowless room, you and Court decide to take up residence on the couch for the night, the living room being closer to Claire than the master bedroom down the hall.

“Court?” you whisper into the darkness, absentmindedly pulling his hand into your lap and tracing random patterns along his rough palm as you watch the hallway, the former Sierra’s eyes trained on the front door.

“Hm?”

Genuine fear- not for yourself, but for the young girl you’ve come to appreciate as a friend and the closest thing you’ve got to family- roils in your gut, rearing its ugly head and reminding you why operatives don’t form connections. “I’m sorry for bringing this home.”

A flash of lightning illuminates the ranch house, and you hone in on a figure clad in all black in the hallway, your eyes narrowing, jaw setting, heart rate kicking into gear. Court squeezes your hand in acknowledgment before you part, and you creep silently down the hall, an animalistic growl escaping your throat when you recognize the door the intruder is gearing up to kick down. The point of your elbow connects with the soft flesh of his throat, reducing his shock to nothing but a soft gurgle as his hyoid bone gives way with a sickening crunch. He falls to the floor gasping for breath and you take the advantage to climb on top of his body, straddling his hips as he weakly tries to fight you off. You grab fistfuls of his shirt and bodily slam his head against the hardwood floor once, twice, three times, your breath coming in sharp intervals through your flared nostrils.

A strong pair of arms twists around your waist and you turn sharply, ready to fight for your life until a soothing, “Easy there, easy,” floats over your ears in the pitch darkness.

Your heart rate immediately starts slowing and a vague memory about a reflex in the aorta flashes unbidden through your mind from a high school science class. “I’m good,” you nod with a sniff, shaking out of Court’s grip.

“Yeah?” He flicks the hallway light on, raising an eyebrow at the crimson scene painted before you. “You usually don’t get this messy.”

“My targets usually don’t threaten my family,” you respond coolly, dragging the body away from Claire’s door before leaving to call your cleanup crew. Mind racing with tactics to accelerate your endgame and annihilate Oasis for this blatant attack, you miss the smile that flashes across Court’s face at your mention of your little crew as family.

You turn at the sound of crunching gravel as you end your call, the sight of the still-half-asleep teen splayed across Court’s back causing warmth to rise in your chest again, a feeling that’s occurring a tad too frequently for your liking around these two in particular.

Feelings make you weak, weakness makes you vulnerable, and vulnerability ends with a trip to the morgue.

Court drapes Claire along the backseat of your sedan, tucking his jacket under her head as a pillow before slipping into the passenger seat as you fold yourself behind the wheel. You take a circuitous route to your assigned rental apartment to ensure you’re not being followed, and you carry the minimal luggage Court hastily threw together as he piggybacks the teen upstairs. After getting Claire situated in the small bed, the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder on the floor at the foot of the bed as she sleeps, both your eyes and your silenced weapons trained on the apartment door.

As the first streaks of sunlight bathe the room in warm hues, Court allows himself to nod off knowing that you’ll keep his Claire safe, his head lolling against your shoulder. You press your lips to his forehead, whispering three words that you haven’t uttered in over a decade, tears welling in your eyes at the realization that you can, in fact, still feel such depth of emotion. A renewed sense of purpose grows within you as the sun rises, and by the time your two sleeping beauties awake, you’ve made up your mind.

———

“Oasis has proven herself to be a greater threat than we originally anticipated. Permission to execute.”

“Negative, Agent, we need her alive and in custody to connect the dots on the expansion of Rainbow in other areas throughout the Midwest that you’ve uncovered.”

“Terry,” you rarely address your handler directly, hoping your use of his name forces him to understand the weight behind your words, “she’s willing to go to extreme lengths to protect this operation. She sent a hitman after my- to my apartment,” you recover quickly, cursing yourself for allowing a semblance of idyllic family life to affect your judgment. How had you managed to make such a mess of things?

“Christ, Y/L/N,” his sigh crackles through your earpiece. “Any idea how your identity got compromised?”

“None,” you answer honestly, disappointed in yourself for not only failing to complete your mission cleanly, but also for putting the people you’ve come to care about at risk. “What’s the exfil plan here?”

“Y/L/N? It’s Carmichael.” Oh joy. “Proceed with the op as planned, but accelerate the execution phase to tonight. Bring her into custody and then report to HQ tomorrow morning so we can figure out how exactly you fucked this up.”

“But she knows who I am, knows what I look like.”

“Are you saying you can’t get it done?”

“No, I-” you pinch the bridge of your nose and release your breath in a slow exhale. “I’ll figure it out and report back to you when I have her detained.”

“Good girl.”

———

You slip back into the apartment just after three in the morning, peeling off your jumper soaked through with blood, sweat, and rain, slumping against the door with a sigh. After a few breaths to compose yourself, you shuffle further into the apartment and are met with Court sprawled across the small couch, his arm draped over his forehead. He mumbles something under his breath and you move closer. “What’d you say?”

“Asked if another cunt was successfully incapacitated,” he repeats, the shock of his question and impeccable memory causing an incredulous giggle to escape your lips.

“Fuck,” you hiss through your laughter, instinctively grabbing at your smarting ribs. “That bitch is lucky my directive was to have her detained. Otherwise she’d be six feet under with her boy toys right now.”

You lift his legs up, easing your sore body onto the couch before laying his legs back down across your lap. “You don’t have to go, Y/N.”

Your eyes dart to meet his baby blues, piercing through your soul in the darkness. “I didn’t say-”

“You made up your mind this morning. I could hear it in your voice.”

“Courtland,” you sigh, pushing your hair off of your sweaty face.

“Don’t government name me,” he grumbles, moving to sit up and pull your head against his chest. You’re shaking, but you can’t pinpoint whether it’s from exhaustion, fear, or a mix of both. “You’re a damn good agent, but you don’t have to be a CIA pawn for the rest of your life. You can go into private work, too.” His fingers trace a gentle pattern along your spine, encouraging you to take as deep of a breath as you can muster in your present condition.

“I haven’t done my time, haven’t helped enough people. I mean, Christ, Court, you were in the game for how many years and they still wouldn’t-”

“Hey,” he cuts off your panicked rambling with a gentle brush of his lips against yours. “You know there’s no contingency plan for people like us. You either kill the bad guys or you die trying, and that used to be good enough for me until…” He trails off, looking toward the door Claire is fast asleep behind.

“If anything, anything had happened to you two because of me-”

“I know,” he placates softly.

You lick your lips and open your mouth to speak before thinking better of repeating your confession from the morning out loud. Instead, you let Court guide your body down on top of his, snuggling against the warmth of his skin and allowing the steady rise and fall of his chest to lull you into a much needed rest. “In the morning, you’ll go to your debrief, and then we’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “And kid?” You stay quiet, trying to control your breathing despite the fact you’re sure he can feel your heart pounding through your chest in anticipation of what he’s about to say. “For the record, I feel the same damn way about you.”

#sierra six #sierra six x reader #sierra six x female reader #sierra six x y/n #sierra six smut #court gentry #courtland gentry #court gentry x reader #courtland gentry x reader #courtland gentry x y/n #the gray man #court gentry x y/n #sierra six x you #court gentry x you #court gentry x female reader

[someplace-darker]

Kinktober Day 1: Floor Sex | Sierra Six x Reader

Pairing: Sierra Six x reader (no y/n)

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+, PWP, floor sex, no protection (wrap it!!!), blood, canon typical violence, reader is afab but no pronouns are used, maybe slight choking?

Summary: After being attacked you and Six find yourselves alone in a safehouse together that has a surprising lack of furniture

A/N: I haven't written in months and i have worked nonstop lately so this is late and a bit rushed! but i hope you like it there is a serious lack of Six fics out here

You’ve never seen shit hit the fan so fast in your entire life, which is saying a lot considering the long track record of carnage you’ve seen in your time on this planet. Quite honestly you think you blacked out during most of it, only catching bits and pieces of what was happening along with the bits and pieces of bad men being splattered across your face. 

It was going to take weeks to get the smell of blood out of your nose, and even longer for the taste. 

You glance to where Six now sits in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall to get a better view out of the window, and you want to push the stray blood crusted hair out of his face. “Does Fitz at least know where we are?” you question, pulling your legs to your chest as if to make yourself smaller to create more room for a conversation. Six wasn’t a very talkative person, you knew this from the months you had spent together. But fuck if you didn’t want to make him speak, make him say something to break the silence that had gone on since the moment he grabbed your hand and tugged you away from the crime. It’s wishful thinking.

“No.”

He seems perfectly collected, body relaxed with his legs stretched out on the carpeted floor, eyes attentively flicking back and forth between the laptop camera feed and the window. The only thing slightly out of place was the brief flicker of his jaw tensing, twice in succession. Six was raised and trained to compartmentalize any overwhelming feeling that he may feel, but the months you’ve spent with him and the time you’ve taken to analyze every movement he makes tells you that despite his demeanor, he’s livid. 

You don’t particularly feel like poking the bear, but you’re scared and covered in blood that (mostly) isn’t yours, so you think you have the right to be curious. Unstretching your legs, you push up and onto your knees so you can hobble closer to him, waddling to his corner of the room so you can sit to his left. “Okay. Does that mean he won’t know it at all?” 

“Maybe.”

He’s fucking exasperating. 

The tension in the room builds with each second that passes, your annoyance and his silence combining into a thick, unswallowable cocktail. You sit like that for the next several minutes, occasionally glancing at him as the sun outside the window sets behind the mountains and the moonlight falls over the walls that surround you. Surprisingly it’s Six who reaches out first, palm finding its place on your thigh, the blood in your cheeks burning hotter when his fingers flex.

“I know you want answers, and the truth is that I don’t know them yet,” he speaks, voice low and focused. It takes a few structured breaths before you can look at him, lifting your head to level with his stare. There’s always been something between the two of you, something unspoken and untouched left to collect dust beneath the surface of whatever facade you had put up. But now that he’s looking at you with a heaviness you haven’t seen from him before, you know it’s different. 

“It’s okay,” you manage to murmur, breath catching when his eyes flit to your mouth and his fingertips press harder into your leg. The leftover adrenaline from the night's events pushes through your veins with a renewed vigor, moving you forward until your mouth meets his, a sharp inhale coming from both of you. 

Part of you wonders if this is how Six’s targets feel. He’s all consuming, plucking every single coherent thought from your head until it’s all him. How his mouth moves against your lips, his hand grips the back of your neck, how he guides you back until your shoulders hit the carpet. There’s a push and pull that has you grinning against the chase of his lips, and you know he can feel it.

No words are spoken as clothes are shed, frantic hands tugging at blood-soaked cloth before his hand slides under your back so you arch, giving his fingers room to undo your bra. You should be put off by the amount of red stains resting on your skin but nothing else seems to matter when Six’s focus turns to the button on his pants as you shimmy your shorts off. 

The dim lighting in the room doesn’t give you the satisfaction of being able to look at him properly, the most of what you can make out is the outline of him as he leans back to toss his jeans, fingers reaching out to skim along the scars that indent his skin. Six seems to freeze at this, struggling to decide between what you assume to be fight or flight. After a moment he grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth to press a kiss to the skin of your palm, his free hand tugging your body closer to him and readjusting your legs to wrap around his hips.

You can feel his cock against the inside of your thigh, moaning softly when he grabs himself in his hand and repositions to press against your entrance. “Hey,” Six grunts, the control being held in his strained jaw “I need to know that you want this. That you want me.” Shimmying your hips closer, you hum with thinly veiled satisfaction when Six groans, hand planting itself beside your head. “I want this,” you assure, shifting once more “I need you.” 

That’s enough confirmation, and he takes no time pressing into your cunt, something akin to a whimper escaping your lips. You had known that he had to be big, just with the way he carries himself, but fuck this is much better than anything you could’ve prepared yourself for.

Your legs tighten around him as he thrusts into you a few times, gritting his teeth when you clench around him. “Fuck, honey,” Six grunts, leaning down to catch your lips once more. It’s less pretty this time, more knocking of noses and biting of lips, he inhales your gasps as he rocks into you faster, your back scratching against the carpeted floor and it’s so much.

“You make it so fucking hard to stay away from you,” he speaks breathlessly, huffing out a laugh when you cry out his name and dig your nails into his shoulder blades. “Years of training to be indifferent just for you to smile at me and not blink an eye when I have to do my job- jesus christ you’re taking me so well,” you rock your hips up to meet his thrusts, words blinking out of your vocabulary as his cock presses to the most delicious part of you.

Six rolls your nipple between his fingers before dragging them down the middle of your stomach, finally reaching where you need him most when his thumb presses down onto your clit. Pinpricks line your skin, legs trembling “Six, please, please.” 

“C’mon honey, let me see it, want you to feel good,” he groans, leaning back to look at your face when you finally come, gasping as he fucks you through it. All of it is overwhelming, the wave of chills that wrack your body seemingly the closest you’ll ever get to tasting paradise. You can tell that he’s close when his hand presses to your throat and his head drops, fucking into you faster than before but with less rhythm.

“Inside,” you manage to speak, though your voice is hoarse. Six looks at you, searching for some hint of hesitation on your face but finds none. He follows soon after, laying his weight on top of you as he comes with a strangled moan.  You lay like that for what seems like years, collecting your scrambled thoughts and running your nails up and down his back.

“Hey Six?” you say, smiling when his chest rumbles against your own.

“Yeah?”

“We should probably shower.”

He pulls back to glance between your bodies, sweat covered and bruised with some hints of blood “duly noted.”

#kinktober #sierra six x reader #court gentry x reader #courtland gentry x reader #the gray man six #the gray man #the gray man fic #Six x reader #sierra six smut #the gray man smut #lloyd hansen #Sierra six #courtland gentry #my writing #no y/n

[georgiapeach30513]

For the what if asks: (I am not sure how spoilerly they can get so feel free to skip this) what if the reader didn’t have the miscarriage in You Were the One?

Ahh!!  I love this!  It definitely would change some things, but would it really change?  Or would it just change the process?

What If...He Deserved It

Summary:  Your baby was okay

Pairings:  Court Gentry X Reader, Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating:  mature

Warnings:  language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.1K

Series Masterlist

Ask me a What If on any of my series

Lloyd’s thumb runs over your hand.  Watching over you when you finally fell asleep.  It was good news.  He figured in time that he might be okay with the way things were going, but he also knew that you and Court did not need a child.  Court couldn’t even face you when he found out.  He ran to some other woman, when he should have been comforting you, or at the very least talking to you.

Lloyd looks over at your vitals, and they were steady, but he knew your heart was breaking.  He could see the careful veneer of trying to ignore the feelings that were starting to creep up towards him.  You loved Court, but you were falling for Lloyd, as was he.  There was something in those moments right before he left for the mission that Lloyd realized just how much he was falling.  He wanted you to wake up and realize Court was not only holding you back, but he didn’t value you.

He can hear Court’s voice before he sees him.  Leaning over to kiss your forehead, lingering his lips there a moment when you whimper, before he heads towards the door, “Move aside, Hansen, I need to…”

“Dani, you mind staying with her while I have a chat with Six here?” Dani gives a nod, and goes to sit beside you.  He looks over to Natasha, and shakes his head, “It’s best if maybe you went on home.”

“Don’t tell her what to do,” Court snaps at him.

“And don’t bring the woman you’ve been living with temporarily to your fiancé’s hospital bed.  She’s resting, and while she’s resting, you and I need to talk.”

“I’ll talk after I see my fiance, you asshole.”

“And I’m not asking, I’m telling you, we’re going to talk.  And if you could keep your fucking voice down.  This is the first time she’s slept in twenty-four hours.  Funny how it took you so long to get here.”

“I should go,” Nat says, looking at Lloyd with deep sadness.  She knew she should have done something more.  Begging Court to just go home didn't help.  “Nothing happened.”

“Did she tell you how he’s accusing her of sleeping with me?  Nothing had to happen.  He made his fucking choice, and it was you,” Lloyd grips Court’s shirt, and pulls him down the hallway.  Slamming his body up against the wall, glaring at him.

“What is your fucking problem?” Court screams at him.  His fists clutch tightly, trying not to swing at him.  “What.  Is.  Your.  Fucking.  Problem?”

“You!  You’re my fucking problem.  You parade that woman around the agency, saying my fiancé, my fiance, but you don’t even fucking care!  She told you she was pregnant, and what do you do?  You run to fucking Natasha’s house.”

“Fitzroy told me she was pregnant, not her.  And I needed to talk to someone.”

“Quit your fucking whining and talk to her!  That’s all she wants.  She wants you to talk to her.  And what did you do with Natasha?”

Court chuckles, shaking his head, “It’s not like that with me and Nat.”

“Do you realize how stupid you look? Accusing her of cheating, when it’s you running to another woman?”

“She runs to you!”

“When? On missions? That’s what partners do. I’m her partner because you pushed her away! Is it always someone else’s fault with you? I’ll admit, I think your fiancé is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, but I’ve never touched her like that. She needed you, Six. She needed you before she left for this mission, and she needed you today. I had to hold her hand, and she was so scared.  She kept crying that she was going to lose the baby, and it should have been you.”

“I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want kids,” Lloyd rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

“What were you using as protection? The pull out method? Then you weren’t doing a good job of preventing kids. You need to wake up, and pay attention to your fucking fiancé, before you lose her forever.”

“To you? Is that a threat? I’m not scared of you. It’s my bed she sleeps in every night.”

“And before this mission, she was sleeping in the bed alone, while you were with Natasha. You’re pushing her. Pushing her away, and you’re about to push her off the ledge, and you’ll lose her forever. It was you she wanted, not me. She’s trying here. And she’s the only one. Tell her I’m going back home.”

“And Court,” Lloyd says, turning his body to look at the man who stands there, “You don’t deserve her. She will find someone who values her worth, if you can’t.”

Court lets those words sink in a moment. He never wanted a family. Never saw himself being a husband, and now here he was, and almost had everything he never wanted. Overwhelmed on what he should do, but one thing was certain, he didn’t want to have a life without you. 

He walks back into the room, and you give him a tearful smile, “Court,” you whisper.  Eyes bloodshot as he walks in the room.  Lloyd wasn’t with him, and it hurts to make this decision.  You had been overwhelmed on what to do, and you never once factored Lloyd into the picture.  Staring at Court makes this harder.  You don’t have the same feelings as when Lloyd was here.  “He’s okay.”

“He?” Court asks, walking closer over to you.  You give him a nod, and pull his hand over to your stomach.  He didn’t touch your belly like Lloyd did.  It was like he was hesitant to keep his hand there.  There was no warmth in the touch.

“Our son.  He’s okay.”

“A boy?” Finally, some emotion in Court’s face.  His lip trembles, before he gives you a cold kiss.  Even Lloyd’s forehead kisses felt better than that.  

“I want him, Court.  I’ve always wanted kids.  And this little boy is a piece of you.  I know what you said.  But I want him.  And I need you.  I need you to be all in.  Our son…he…h-h-he needs a mom and a dad,” Court nods his head a bit, but still there wasn’t this true excitement.  It felt like he was treating you and your son like a mission.  Get the information.  Do the mission until it’s complete.  

“Kids are a lifetime.”

“I know,” he didn’t.  He didn’t get it.  You want to give him the benefit of a doubt, because he was the baby’s father.  Father.  It’s laughable.  You didn’t want your child to have a father.  You wanted him to have a daddy.  Someone that was going to be affectionate, and always there for him.  Court couldn’t even bother to get here after he got the news.  Instead, he went in and finished the mission you and Lloyd had to abort.

“And I need honesty.  You…you left me,” he shakes his head no, but you didn’t want to hear an excuse.  “You did.  This relationship can’t work, unless you stay and talk.  You can’t run off when things get tough.  I’m your confidant.  Not Natasha, not Dani, not Fitzroy.”

“And Lloyd isn’t yours,” he was still in that mind frame of thinking.  You nod, agreeing to that.  “So we’re doing this?”

“We’re engaged aren’t we?”

You walk into Court’s office, your belly completely swollen.  There was no way that you could deny a pregnancy anymore.  “Court, are we ever going to talk about names?” He busies himself around his office, stuffing things into a bag, but he never looks towards you.  Your hand rubs over your bump, and your baby boy gives your hand a little kick.  

“Court,” you giggle.  Looking up at him, but now he was looking at something on his computer.  “Court, he’s kicking.”

“That’s nice,” he had promised things would be different.  Promised that he was going to be all in with this pregnancy.  “Hey, I gotta go on a mission,” finally, he walks towards your direction, stopping in front of you, but he caresses your arm.

“Touch him.”

“That’s your stomach.”

“He’s kicking, and moving.  You can feel him,” you stare up at him, vision blurry with tears, “Please, touch him,” with an annoyed sigh, he drops his bag, and places his hand over your stomach.  “Feel him?  He’s right there.”

“Yeah.  That’s kinda weird.”

“That’s your son,” you hated him.  This was supposed to be a happy time.  And you hated him.  Withdrawn from you, and even more so from his son.  “You don’t even want to name him.”

“You’ll name him something perfect,” Court knows he had no business getting engaged to you, even less with having a child.  It was easier for him to just ignore that you were growing a baby.  Until you had popped out.  Sex wasn’t the same.  He couldn’t enjoy it, and just look at your face, because now there was this thing in his way.  It was more of a reality of how bad that Court Gentry screwed up.

“Be careful on your mission, Six.”

“Yeah, I always am.  I’ll see you when I get back,” his kisses were distant.  It was like something he was forcing himself to do.  Leaving with barely a bye, you twist your ring around your finger.  Holding your hand out, you scoff.  Taking the stupid thing off and putting it in his top desk drawer before you walk out.  

Holding in your tears as much as possible.  You were leaving.  You couldn’t be around Court everyday, and he was so cold to someone he claimed to love.  He didn’t sleep with his arm around you anymore.  His body was turned the other way.  If your bump touched him in his sleep, he made an excuse to go use the bathroom.  It was like he waited until you were turned the other way before coming back.  He hated his son, and you hated him.  Your son was perfect.  Growing every day.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Lloyd runs to catch up to you, “Where are you going so fast?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Why?” He spins you around to look at him, and wipes away the steady cascade of tears.  “Honey, why?”

“I can’t be here anymore,” his hands coast down your arms, until meeting at your hands.  Running his thumb across your knuckles, he looks down to see your naked finger.  “Lloyd, I gotta go.”

“You remember what I offered you?” 

“What?” 

His hand presses over your stomach, and he gives you the prettiest smile when the baby kicks at him.  Looking down from your face, to your belly, “Well, hello to you, too.  What have you decided to name him?” 

“I don’t know.  I was thinking of Henry or Rhett.”

“Eh, we can think of something.  My offer still stands.  I’ll raise this baby with you.  You’re not married.  Judging by your finger, you’re not together.  I know he’s always going to be Court’s son.  But his mama doesn’t have to be miserable, Honey.  I love you, and that’s past my love and respect for you as my partner, and I think you know that.  I won't pressure you.  I won’t beg you.  But a happy mama makes for a happy baby,” with a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering, he leans over to press a soft kiss over your belly before turning to leave.

“Lloyd?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you help me move mine and the baby’s stuff out of Court’s?” 

“Let’s go.  He’ll be on a mission for a while.”

Staying with Court was the hardest decision you had ever had to make.  Leaving for yourself and your baby was easy.  Lloyd was a lot of things.  But he did love you and your unborn child.  Was willing to put himself into a war that didn’t concern him because he wanted you and your son to be safe and happy.  

Court was most definitely going to get mad at the shot to his ego.  But you doubted it was because he wouldn’t get to see his son as much as he would like to.  You just doubted anything concerning Court anymore.  He had checked out a long time ago, and you had finally accepted that.  Was now checking out for yourself, but also for your son.

“I really like the name Rhett.”

“Yeah, but Rhett Lloyd doesn’t sound good.”

“I wasn’t going to name the baby after you.”

“Lloyd is a strong and powerful name.  Ooh!  How about Floyd.  Lloyd and Floyd.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine.  Rhett Hansen Gentry.”

“You just want to piss Court off, huh?”

“Yeah, my goal is now just to piss him.  He deserves it.”

Masterlist

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#you were the one #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x honey #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen x fics #lloyd hansen x fic #court gentry #court gentry x reader #court gentry x fem!reader #court gentry x y/n #court gentry x you #sierra six #sierra six x reader #sierra six x fem!reader #sierra six x y/n #sierra six x you #sierra six fanfiction #court gentry fanfiction

[mlmxreader]

Just One Night | Sierra Six x gn!reader (🍋)

Anonymous asked: Sixussy… Can I request a Six x gn!reader fic with unhhghh a bit of smut and to add some spice, these:

“Stay with me tonight” "Call me that again"

Put your whole Jackussy into or whatever

summary: Six wishes that he could stay forever, but he’s only got just one night with you. 

tws: masturbation, cum swallowing, daddy kink, swearing 

word count: 1319

MINORS DNI

Six was always tired when he got home, he was always fucking exhausted and he was always so goddamn knackered when he walked through the door; but he was always glad to see you there. To see you half-asleep on the sofa cuddled into one of his shirts, to hear the likes of Slipknot and Sabaton playing on the speaker quietly, he was always so glad to see you, even if he could rarely stay for long. Even if he could only come in, make himself a cup of tea, get a shower before he was dragged onto the next mission, the next job. He was always glad to see you. Always. 

So when he walked in tonight, and he saw you wide awake, watching some shit horror film about a slasher killer with too many cliches, he couldn’t help but to smile; tilting his head to the side as he let his eyes rake over you for a moment. A trained killer, a man turned into a weapon, and yet when he looked at you, he was as soft as velvet. The sound of ‘Yen’ by Slipknot could still be heard from the speaker and Six laughed softly; clearly, you were still getting up every now and then to go and get a cigarette, clearly, you weren’t paying much attention to the film, and when you saw him stood there, you grinned. Nearly moving the sofa back as you charged towards him, slamming into him and wrapping your arms around him tightly, drowning in the sensation of him holding you so fucking eagerly against his body as you closed your eyes and wished for the moment to never end. 

Your Six was home. Safe. Sound. Back in your arms where you promised, like you did every time, that you would never let him go. You would never let him leave again. 

“Stay with me tonight,” you whispered. “Please? Just… just stay with me.” 

“I’ll stay for as long as I can,” Six replied gently, his voice just a grumble. “Can’t promise anything.” 

You frowned, hoping that he didn’t see it when you pulled away, hoping that he didn’t see how the thought of him leaving left you just a little bit broken; all the time in the world, yet the one person you wanted to spend it with would be gone by the morning. Would disappear into the night without so much as a goodbye; sure, he would leave a bottle of his cologne on the dresser, and he would leave his favourite jacket behind for you along with a couple of his shirts, but he would be gone without a word. 

You cleared your throat, shaking your head as you tried to rid yourself of those thoughts, to get rid of them as best you could. “That could be for the entire night, though, couldn’t it? I mean, they might not call you until the afternoon tomorrow, right?”

Six nodded, and when you smiled, he kind of wanted to cry; you were so desperate to spend even just one night with him without it being interrupted. Just one night, just a little while, just a moment or two. Just one night. He knew how much it would have meant to you if he could have stayed for just one night, but nothing ever worked out so perfectly. “Come here.” 

You furrowed your brows, but when he lead you out to the kitchen, the sound of ‘Acidic’ by Slipknot taking over, you had a feeling that he had something in mind; when he pinned you against the counter right as the song got heavier, a soft gasp left you. Only to be silenced when he crashed his lips against yours, one hand going down the back of your black jogging bottoms and grabbing your ass, leaving his fingerprints on your soft flesh as he kept you close, grumbling softly before bringing his other hand to your throat and squeezing it gently, making you moan, opening your mouth just enough so that he could force his tongue between your lips while you eagerly kissed him back and let your breath tangle with his. 

I'm runnin' in a Dead Man's shoes… sacrilege, broken cartilage, beaten and bruised and I keep forgettin' to forget, the back is always front, the way is always shut, the one is always two… I'm not a god, the back is always front, the way is always shut, the one is always two… I'm not a god like you

The heaviness of the song mixed a little too well with how he kissed you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding your hips against him, soft mewls and pants leaving your mouth as you desperately searched for friction against him, needing his touch, needing his warmth and his casual roughness; the trained violence he was so capable of inflicting. 

“Six…” you pulled away, breath heavy and harsh as you met his gaze. “Fuck… please, Daddy.” 

“Call me that again,” Six growled, attacking your neck with such delicious bites and kisses that it only made you more needy, more desperate for him. “Go on, puppy, use your words.” 

“Please, Daddy,” you started, hardly able to get the words out without harsh breaths leaving you. “Touch me, like, fucking bite me, fucking wank me off, just… touch me, please. Fucking touch me.” 

“You really want me to touch you?” He asked softly, and when you nodded, he smiled, a soft grumble coming from the back of his throat as he brought his hand around from your ass, licking his lips. “Fuck…” 

His movements started slow, just giving you a little taste of what he could do, but when you jerked your hips and tried to get him to pick up the pace, he wasn’t about to tease you; time was precious and he had you wrapped around his finger. He just wanted to show you what he could do as he gently picked up the pace; once more, he kissed you, all open mouthed and all tongue and teeth as he pressed himself a little closer to you. Six didn’t want to tease you, he really didn’t. He just wanted to make you weak for him for a moment, to see that arousal in your eyes and to hear all those little noises he had missed so much when he was away; the little noises that really didn’t hit him over the phone like they did now. The little noises and the little breaths, the way you gripped his shoulders and how you tried to fuck yourself with his hand, making him grin as he bit and kissed and sucked at the side of your neck; a certain hunger in the pits of his stomach when he thought about how he would have liked to have gotten on his knees when you finally came. How he would have liked to have licked it all up and swallowed it. To taste you on his tongue once more, to refresh his memory. 

He couldn’t help himself, slowly getting on his knees before you, pulling down your jogging bottoms just enough to expose you, eagerly waiting until he knew you were close before he took his chance, so fucking glad when he finally tasted you against his tongue, finally tasted your cum in his mouth as he grabbed your thigh with one hand and eagerly let you fuck his mouth until you were done, letting him lick it all up and swallow it until he came back up, pressing you against the counter once again as he kissed you so harshly. Giving you just a little taste of yourself. 

“I missed how you taste.” 

“There’s more where it came from,” you told him gently, patting his chest as you gently pushed him away. “I promise… if you stay, that is.” 

“I can stay,” Six grumbled with a nod. “Just one night.” 

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #sierra six x reader #sierra six x you #sierra six x y/n #sierra six one shot #sierra six imagine #the gray man x reader #the gray man netflix #the gray man on netflix #the gray man #the grey man netflix #the grey man #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling imagine #ryan gosling #court gentry x y/n #court gentry x you #court gentry x reader #court gentry imagine #courtland gentry x reader #courtland gentry imagine #courtland gentry

[bishopgirl98]

Coming November 20th: Sunday Crossword

Summary: Six comes home to F!Reader

Pairing: Sierra Six/Court Gentry x F!Reader

Word Count: TBD

Rating: 18+

Note: Time to get those ages in your bios. I will be blocking accounts under 18 on a weekly basis. This is a huge heads up, so let's get it done before release day :)

#the gray man #the gray man fanfiction #sierra six x you #sierra six imagine #sierra six x reader #court gentry x reader #court gentry imagine #sierra six x y/n #sierra six #court gentry x female reader #court gentry #courtland gentry #court gentry x y/n #court gentry x you #bishopgirl98