#court gentry x female reader

[elusivewildflower]

Wide Open Spaces | Cowboy!Court x F!Reader

Pairing: Cowboy!Court Gentry x F!Reader

Summary: After ending your five-year relationship, you find out your beloved Aunt left you her small Ranch out in the country. Desperate to get away from the city, you happily up and move several states away for a fresh start. What happens when you find out your new neighbor is a hot single dad? (Court and Claire have taken on their new life of father & daughter after the events of the movie and settled down on a ranch.)

Warnings: Court being a sexy Cowboy, Claire meddling in Court's love life, and mentions of a deceased family member.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I haven't posted anything in FOREVER, and honestly....I have missed it. The new photos of Ryan have inspired me to write a fic (that will probably turn into a series) about Cowboy Court. I hope you all love this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

As you stepped out of your car, you sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. It was so much different than the city air you had been breathing for the last five years. There was none of the usual exhaust fumes, cigarette smoke, and the lingering smell of fast food from two blocks away here. You cast your gaze over the home your aunt had left you when she passed. It had been years since you’d been here, and it looked like it had been quite a while since anyone had. The house wasn’t in total disrepair, but it was clear that no one had lived here in the three years your aunt was in assisted living. The wooden steps beneath your feet creaked as you climbed them, the railing wobbly when you placed your hand on it. Your nose scrunched in disgust as you had to bat away a few cobwebs, thankful that there weren’t any spiders on them at the time. You dug your new set of keys out from your purse and pushed it into the lock. A smile crept across your face as the lock twisted easily, but when you simply pushed on the door to open, it wouldn’t budge. 

After putting all of your weight against the door, you nearly barreled through it into your aunt’s foyer. Well, you supposed it was yours now. As you maneuvered into the living room, a sneeze overcame you. Wow, you were going to have to put dusting at the top of your list. All of your aunt’s furniture sat right where she left it, just coated in a heavy layer of dust. The style wasn’t exactly to your taste, but it was better than having nothing. Sure, you had some furniture back in the city, but it was easier just to leave it there. Those pieces held too many memories that you wanted to forget, and it made it easier to move several states away without any help. After all, with your aunt gone now, all you had was, well, you. 

As you explored the house, grimacing at the state of a few rooms, you found yourself back in the kitchen. It was going to be difficult, but this fresh start was exactly what you needed.  Leaning yourself against the sink, you gazed out the window in front of you. Your aunt’s land wasn’t ginormous by any means, but there was a stable for horses, a small barn, and plenty of fenced in yard. In the distance, you could see a man on a horse. You assumed that must be your new neighbor. He was too far away to notice much, but the cowboy hat on his head and tan leather jacket that covered his broad shoulders was enough to intrigue you. The sudden sound of a knock on your door pulled you from your staring. 

“I’m coming,” you called out as you made your way back to the foyer. You certainly weren’t expecting any visitors, but you figured it was probably the wife of the man you had just been ogling from a distance. However, when you opened the door, you were greeted by a girl who looked no older than sixteen. 

“Uh, hello,” you greeted. 

A wide smile was spread across the girl’s face. “Hi! I’m Claire, your new neighbor.” She gestured towards the land besides yours, and for the first time you noticed the plate of cookies in her hand. “Can I come in? I made these for you.” 

You let a smile grace your features as you nodded and took a step back. “Of course, come on in.” As Claire stepped into your home, you felt the need to apologize for the state of it. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess.” You began as you led her towards the kitchen. 

Claire shook her head, cutting you off. “No, it’s okay. No one’s been here in years.” She glanced around as she followed you. “I actually met your aunt right before she went into assisted living about three years ago.” She admitted. “She was a really nice lady.” 

You nodded your head solemnly as you thought of your recently deceased family member. “Yeah, she was.” A wave of guilt washed over you as you wished you had visited her more often, or you know, at all. But, you were busy living your life and always put it off.....You called her monthly, sometimes weekly, but you never stepped foot onto a plane to come and visit. You always thought you’d have more time. Sadly, you’ve found out that isn’t how life works. 

It was like Claire felt the shift in you and decided to talk about something else. “It’s nice to have a new neighbor. It gets lonely out here sometimes.” 

That caught your attention. Surely, a girl her age must have friends. You furrowed your brows as you looked her over. “Lonely? How so?” 

Claire set the plate of cookies down on the dusty counter. You made a mental note that you really needed to get started on cleaning. The younger girl then shrugged her shoulders. “Well, it’s just me and my dad, and he’s fairly protective. I’m homeschooled, so I don’t get out much.” She admitted. 

A frown pulled at the corner of your lips. “Mm, I suppose father’s are always good at that, aren’t they?” You questioned rhetorically as you thought of your own father. Vaguely recalling when you were her age and how your father wouldn’t let you stay out past nine o’clock. 

Claire nodded in agreement as she absentmindedly brushed a finger across the countertop. “Is it just you moving in?” She asked curiously, her head tilting to the side as she eyed you over. 

Something about the look in her eyes made you a bit uneasy, like she was sizing you up. Whatever for, you had no clue. You shifted your weight onto your other leg as you nod. “Yeah, just me. My aunt was the only family I had left, and, uh, I’m newly single.” You explained very briefly. 

“Newly?” Claire prodded on that last piece of information you gave. 

You blew out a puff of air. Did you really need to be telling your sob story to a sixteen year old? You were silent for a moment as you contemplated. The look in her eyes made her seem older, and she had been nice thus far. What did it hurt? Other than perhaps your ego for your first new friend being a teenager. 

“Uh, yeah. I found out my boyfriend of five years had been cheating on me, shortly after I learned about the death of my aunt.” Shrugging your shoulders, you continued. “So, I packed up everything that truly mattered, and I came here.” 

Claire scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Ugh, men.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that response. “My thoughts exactly.” You agreed with a heavy sigh. 

Claire looked around the room for a moment before something in the window caught her eye. “Well, I’ll leave you to unpack. If you need any help, just give me a call, yeah? And if you need help with repairs, my dad had to fix a lot of stuff when we first moved into our house. I’m sure he can help.” She extended the offer as she pulled out her phone and asked for your number. Once your contact was safely in her phone and she had sent you a text, she let herself out of your back door. 

You moved to the sink and watched as she wandered off towards what must have caught her eye. The man you had seen earlier, her father, was at the edge of your property on his horse, staring at your house. That is, until he spotted Claire and his head turned to acknowledge her. You couldn’t tell what they were saying, but the tanned man in the cowboy hat gave your house one last look as Claire hopped up onto the horse to join him before riding off towards their home. 

Once they were out of your sight, you turned to face the disaster of a house you now owned and heaved a sigh. It was time to start hauling all of your things in and pick a room upstairs to call your own. Then, you would get started on dusting. 

Morning came all too soon for you after staying up late last night dusting every inch of the house. But, at least you wouldn’t have a sneezing fit every time you entered a room anymore. It really wasn’t all that early, but with the long days of travel, emotional and physical baggage you’d been carrying, you felt as if you could sleep all day. However, you had too much work to do for that. So, you pulled yourself from bed and got dressed into some casual clothing. A white tank top and denim shorts, something to keep you cool while you clean. 

After taking care of getting yourself ready, you made your way down to the kitchen. Sadly, your aunt didn’t even have an old-fashioned coffee pot and you begrudgingly accepted that you would have to make due without any caffeine. This wasn’t the city, and there was no easy way to doordash your morning fix. You heaved a sigh and made your way to the kitchen sink, intending to twist the knob and turn on warm water. But, it was stuck. You sighed again in frustration, wondering how many things in this house were going to require more strength than you possessed in order to work. You beared down harder on the knob, and felt a streak of pride as it finally turned. That is, until the knob came off right in your hand. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” You stared at the handle in disbelief for a moment before the sound of rushing water reached your ears. Dumbfounded, you stared at the faucet. There wasn’t any water coming from it. Where was it…? Oh no. 

Realization hit as you hurriedly bent down to rip open the cabinet beneath the sink. There was water gushing from….somewhere. You weren’t a plumber and without caffeine your brain still felt like mush. You cursed, several times actually, and then began to panic. You tried twisting the other knob to the sink, but it did absolutely nothing. At least it didn’t break off like the other, though. You had no idea where the water shut-off valve was in the house and you stood helplessly as you watched your kitchen floor begin to flood. 

Come on, do something! You thought to yourself, trying to come up with a plan. Towels. Finally, there was an idea. Surely your aunt had to have a spare linen closet around here, right? You frantically searched for one until you found it near the mud room, grabbing as many linens as you could carry and rushing back to the kitchen. Unfortunately, the water had spread since you had left, and you slipped, landing on the hard linoleum floor. The towels you were carrying also fell, at least beginning to soak up the water. As you slowly rose to your feet, your white tank top and shorts now soaked, you realized the towels were hardly helping the problem. Grabbing your phone, you called the only person you could think of. 

Claire. 

It was answered on the second ring. “Hello?” Came the familiar voice of the girl you had met just yesterday. 

“Claire!” You exclaimed in relief. “Do you know any plumbers? I think a pipe burst in my kitchen sink and it’s gushing water and I have no idea where the shut-off is.” You rambled out frantically. 

“I’ll go get my dad, he’ll be right there!” 

You shook your head, that wasn’t what you had asked. “No, wait–” you began to protest, but the girl had already hung up. 

Claire must work fast, because you swore it was only a matter of minutes before you heard a knock at your front door. Your feet carried you as fast as you could without slipping on the hardwood floors of the house. You were going to have to throw your shoes outside to dry after this. As you slung open the front door, you stopped in your tracks. 

Wow. You knew Claire’s father was handsome even from a distance, but you didn’t expect him to be this handsome. He was a bit older than you, but he had to be, to have a daughter that was Claire’s age. The only thing that gave away his age, though, were the fine lines he had begun to develop on his brow and around his eyes. His short, blonde, hair was messy without a single strand of gray insight. He must’ve come from working in the yard because his white t-shirt that fit him perfectly was slightly dirty, his arms and face were covered in a bit of dirt and dust, along with a thin sheen of sweat. As your eyes trailed down his form, you noticed the toolbelt he wore around his waist, and the new pipe that he held in his tattooed hand. You only caught a glimpse of his brown cowboy boots before he cleared his throat to gain your attention. Shit, had you really been staring for that long? 

You rose your eyes to meet his keen blue ones as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. He was staring directly at your face. Maybe, if you hadn’t been so distracted, you might’ve noticed it was because your top was completely see-through from being soaked. 

“I, uh, heard you’ve got a leak?” His smooth voice graced your ears, and successfully pulled you back to the issue at hand. 

You moved away from the door so that he could enter, gesturing for him to come inside. “Yes, a big one,” you answered hurriedly. As he stepped inside, you saw his horse waiting for him in your front lawn. Ah, that was how he got here so quickly. 

You didn’t need to show him where the kitchen was. He either was smart enough to have an idea, as you assumed all of the old houses out here were set up similarly, or he followed the sound of water. He let out a curse under his breath as he saw what he was faced with. “Yeah, that’s a big one alright,” he agreed with your earlier sentiment before dropping down to his knees and immediately getting to work. 

Within seconds, his tee was completely soaked like yours. But, it didn’t seem to bother him. His hands were moving faster than you could comprehend, using his pure strength to unscrew the pipe that was broken so that he could get the new one installed. He let out a few grunts as he worked, and all you could do was lean yourself against the island and watch. The muscles in his arms bulged as he exerted his strength against the pipe. His slightly tanned skin was on full display now that his shirt was transparent, and you could even make out a bit of the tattoo he had on his chest. Your eyes happily drank in the sight of his chiseled torso. At this moment, you were almost thanking your ex for cheating on you and your aunt for leaving you this house because without all of those things coming together, you would’ve never been able to experience this. An attractive, hard working man at work. Your eyes drifted from his torso to take in the gruesome scar he had on his left arm, curious to know how that came to be. 

What felt like an hour to your daydreaming self, was really only a matter of minutes before Claire’s father had your leak fixed. Or, at least, one of them. You couldn’t help but realize the sight before you, and the grunting sounds he let out whilst working, had awakened something within. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time. And you didn’t even know his name. 

Movement pulled you from your thoughts, and you realized that he was coming out from underneath the sink. You had to act as if you hadn’t been gawking at him this entire time, and instead stared at the floor that was covered in soaked towels. The sound of running water pulled your attention back to the sink, and you found that he was also staring at the faucet that was still running. Right, the knob broke too. 

He gave a nod as he realized the next issue. “Right, well at least it’s not flooding your kitchen anymore.” He turned his head to look at you briefly before looking back to the faucet. “I probably have a spare around, if not, I’ll run out and grab one.” He explained with a simple shrug of his shoulders. 

You were quick to shake your head. “You don’t need to do that,” you began. “I can run out to the store and grab one.” You glanced down at yourself, finally realizing that you had put on a hot pink bra this morning and your still-soaked tank was completely transparent. “....Right after I change.” You felt heat creep up your neck once more as embarrassment overcame you. 

When you glanced back over at him, he was quick to avert his eyes. “Really, I don’t mind. Your aunt was very nice to Claire and I when we first moved in. She personally made us about a week’s worth of food, I think.” He explained, letting out a chuckle. 

You bit down on your bottom lip. That certainly sounded like something your aunt would do, and if this attractive man wanted to help you as a repayment, then you supposed you could oblige. “Fine, I’ll accept your help. On one condition.” You paused, watching as he rose a brow at you, urging for you to go on. “You tell me your name so I don’t have to call you Claire’s father.” You finished with a grin. 

A smile of his own crossed his features and those wrinkles in the corner of his eyes deepened. “You can call me Court.” 

“Thank you, Court, for saving my entire house from being flooded.” You spoke with a laugh as you looked down at your kitchen floor. 

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t stop it before the kitchen flooded,” he responded. “Speaking of, do you wanna go get changed and I’ll help you clean up before I fix the faucet?” 

You glanced down at yourself once more, and with a moment of confidence, you shook your head. “No, I’m sure you’ve already seen it, so what does it matter?” You asked rhetorically. “Besides, it wouldn’t really be fair for only one of us to be wet, now would it?” 

Court paused to look at you, seemingly analyzing your choice of words. You watched as his eyes flashed down to your chest before he shook his head. “I suppose not.” He spoke, moving to pick up the water-logged towels on the floor. 

A few minutes into picking up the strewn about linens and you heard Court curse.

 “Shit.” 

You turned to look at him, worry in your brow. “What?” You questioned. 

“A piece of your linoleum was lifted up, water got all underneath.” There was a pause. “I’m gonna have to replace your floor.” 

“Shit,” you echoed. 

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow.” He stated nonchalantly. 

You stopped in your tracks. Here this man was, a stranger, really, volunteering to spend a day replacing your flooring? “Court, really, you don’t have to. I can hire someone to fix it.” 

Court shook his head. “It’s not a problem. Like I said, your aunt was a nice lady.” 

“She was so nice that you’d spend an entire day of labor replacing her niece’s kitchen floor?” You asked in disbelief. If this were the city, you’d never find a man offering to replace your flooring for free. 

Turning his head to finally look at you, Court smirked. “For her niece that’s as pretty as you? Yeah, I’d do a lot of things.” 

Any retort you could think of making died on your tongue and Court went back to picking up linens with that smug smirk on his face. You felt as if your brain had short-circuited. Did he just flirt with you? After a moment, you shook yourself out of your stupor and resumed picking up the towels. 

The two of you carried your heaping piles of soaked towels to the mud room, where you began loading up the washer. As Court stood there watching you, you turned towards him. 

“Can I at least make you and Claire dinner tonight to show thanks?” You canted your head as you awaited his response.

Court’s tongue darted across his lower lip. “I’ll allow it.” He agreed with a nod, then motioned towards the hallway with his head. “I’ll be back soon to fix your faucet, alright?” 

You nodded, watching as he turned and left. After you heard your front door close shut, you placed your head in your hands. Your life felt like an absolute train wreck at the moment, but somehow you knew it was only going to get better. Your aunt always swore moving out here would be better for you than your life in the city. You didn’t used to believe her, but after today? You were starting to realize she might’ve been right.

Now, you need to plan for dinner. Fuck. Why didn’t you ask him what his favorite food was? You have no idea what to make. Slapping yourself on the forehead, you let out a groan before making your way up to your bedroom to get changed. 

“Easy, girl.” Court called to his horse as he pulled on the reins. She slowed her trot to a halt by his house, allowing him to slip off from the saddle. As he made his way inside of the home, his thoughts solely on the new girl next door, Claire was waiting for him. 

“So, did you fix her sink?” She asked, startling him from his thoughts. 

Jesus, he thought. He was really losing some of his skills if he let Claire startle him over a woman. He clicked his teeth and nodded, trying not to seem interested. The last thing he needed was Claire meddling in his love life. He’d been lucky thus far by keeping her home so often that she never met anyone she could set him up with. But that never stopped her from constantly suggesting it.

“Yeah, mostly. I stopped the leak, but a knob is broken and I need to replace it. Some water got under her flooring.” He explained as he moved towards his bedroom to find dry clothing. “I’ll have to replace that tomorrow.” 

Claire followed right behind him, the idea of personal space diminishing over the years they had lived together. She wouldn’t enter his room if he was changing, but she’d be right outside of the door, continuing the conversation she started. 

“So, you’ll be seeing her again tomorrow?” Claire wondered aloud. There was something in her tone of voice that set off alarms in Court’s head. But he tried to ignore it. If he called her out on it too soon….

“Yeah, and she’s making us dinner tonight.” He added on with a huff as he stripped himself of his shirt and pants. Then began rummaging around for new ones in his closet. 

“That’s great! I knew you’d like her.” She called smugly from the other side of the door. 

Court’s brows furrowed as he tossed his new shirt over his torso and closed the distance between him and the door. He opened it wide enough to peek his head out and level his gaze with Claire. 

“Who said anything about liking her? She’s doing it as a thank you.” 

Claire stared blankly up at him. “But she’s pretty, isn’t she?” She questioned, as if that were the only important matter.

Court didn’t respond. He simply shook his head at her antics and shut the door in her face. He wasn’t giving her the satisfaction of the truth. 

“Deny it all you want, but you just wait! You’ll be telling me I’m right before long.” She called out teasingly as Court retreated further into his room to put on pants. 

God help him with that girl. She wasn’t going to rest until she was right. For once though, he might not have much of a problem with that.

#the gray man #court gentry #ryan gosling #sierra six #cowboy! court gentry #court gentry x reader #f!reader #court gentry x female reader #ryan gosling fic #court gentry fic #sierra six fic #the gray man au

[navybrat817]

Six makes me think so many dirty and wild thoughts🥵

type fucking after a fight because of jealousy

Six isn't a man who likes to experience jealousy, but it happens from time to time. He doesn't have anything in his life to call his own. You're the only exception, but love is dangerous in his world. Which is why he occasionally keeps himself at a distance. For your own protection.

It doesn't mean he likes others touching what belongs to him.

Because you do belong to him.

You seem to forget that one day when he catches some prick hitting on you and you don't stop him. Once he grabs your ass, he doesn't hesitate to pull you away. After he makes the guy piss himself a little. He doesn't say a word after, but you say plenty. How he didn't need to break his fingers, to let go of you, that he didn't own you. He warns you not to say another word.

"Or what?!"

Pressing you against the closest wall, grinding hard into you, he almost hopes the guy catches him spearing you open with his cock.

"Nothing to say now, baby? Gonna let your pussy do all the talking? Fine by me. I hear her loud and fucking clear."

*****

Maybe something like that, nonnie?

Oops. What did I do? 😇

Love and thanks! ❤️

#navybrat answers #sierra six #court gentry #sierra six x reader #sierra six x female reader #sierra six x you #court gentry x reader #court gentry x female reader #court gentry x you #sierra six imagine #court gentry imagine #fuel for thots #anon ask #sending love ❤️ #asks are always appreciated

[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

[holylulusworld]

Ready for destruction (Prologue)

Summary: Six and Lloyd are at each other’s throat most of the time.

Pairing: Sierra Six x fem!Reader x Lloyd Hansen

Characters: Denny Carmichael

Warnings: concurrence, language, Lloyd being Lloyd, implied sexual harassment (not really/I’m not sure/just to be safe - not Lloyd/Six), mentions of character’s death

A/N: This is a short prologue to get into the story.

Ready for destruction masterlist

“That was my kill, sunshine,” Lloyd growls in Sierra’s direction. Sierra Six to be correct. They are at each other’s throats again, and you try to ignore their banter. “Why do you always steal my kills?"

“He’s dead. What’s your problem? Mission accomplished,” Sierra bites back. He’s unimpressed by Lloyd’s antics. He prefers to stuff another chewing gum into his mouth.

While Lloyd paces back and forth and throws a tantrum like the man-baby he is, Sierra cranes his neck to watch you talk to Carmichael. He huffs, as said man places his hand on your back.

“The bastard touches her again.”

Lloyd stops in his tracks. He whips his head toward Six before turning around only to watch Carmichael whisper something in your ear.

You chuckle as Carmichael tells you about Lloyd’s predilection for awful nicknames. 

You're new to the team. It has only been five months into the job, but you know one thing, you dislike Carmichael. He always makes sure everyone knows he’s the alpha of the team.

Six squares his jaw as you pat Carmichael's shoulder. “I’m going to kill him,” he mutters under his breath. “Who does he think he is?”

Six doesn’t know you use neuro-linguistic programming to manipulate Carmichael. You are more than an analyst and the girl Lloyd and Six like to fight over. They just never took their time to find out more about you.

Lloyd is ready to explode as he says, "You cannot steal this kill. My sweet cupcake is mine."

“She’s not yours,” Six retorts. “And I thought you are best buddies with Carmichael.”

“He knows I like Y/N,” Lloyd says, clenching his fists. He grunts as you glance over your shoulder to look at him. “I told him to keep his hands to himself. It's bad enough that he’s banging Suzanne. I can’t even yell at her because of his dick.”

“Can you keep your shit together for once?" Six grunts. “I don’t want to have another meeting with HR again. I'm done with your attitude.”

“Well, then,” Lloyd grabs Six by the throat. He breathes in his face smirking as Six doesn’t even fight back this time. "Stay away from Y/N. She’s mine.”

“Ahem…” Six smirks as you tap Lloyd’s shoulder. He could’ve easily broken out of Lloyd’s grip and beat the shit out of his opponent. However, he sensed your presence and didn’t want to mess up his chance to win you over. “I’m not yours, Mr. Hansen. I think you should talk to HR again."

“The only one needing to talk to them is Carmichael. He had his hand on your ass,” Lloyd drops his hand from Six’s throat.

“It was my lower back, Sir,” you grunt. “And this is none of your business. I got it handled.” You point your index finger at Lloyd. “Stop acting like I’m your girlfriend.”

Six smiles at your words. "The same goes for you,” and his smile fades as you point at him. “This is not some game. You can’t always fight over the next kill or who can ask me out. I’m not interested in any of you. I dislike violent men.”

You turn on your heels and storm off.

"That's your fault," Six murmurs. "You ruined my chance with her.”

“You are mistaken, sunshine,” Lloyd smirks darkly. “I told you before and I’m telling you again, my sweet cupcake belongs with me…”

>> Part 1

Tags in reblog.

#Ready for destruction (Prologue) #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #court gentry x reader #court gentry x female reader #sierra six #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you

[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

[onelemonoat]

So request for some sierra six x f!reader are open!

What I write

Angst, fluff, smut (I wont write smut with the word daddy in it, Idk Im just not comfortable with it, sorry)

Also beware english isn’t my native language so expect some grammar mistakes

(Gif’s not mine!)

#sierra six x reader #sierra six #court gentry #ryan gosling #court gentry x reader #the gray man #sierra six x you #court gentry x female reader

[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

[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

[bishopgirl98]

HCs: A Series of Gentle Touches with Six Part 1

Summary: an hc with Sierra Six involving various situations where you guys touch. takes place after the events of the film. Posting in two parts because it's too long for one post: Part Two Rating: General Warnings: some blood, some swearing. besides that pure fluff Note :I sat down for my free writing time and this came to be. Feel free to submit any hc request for Sierra Six I hope you enjoy! Music (Listened to/Inspired By): 1. Until I Found You (Piano Version) by Stephen Sanchez 2. Fallin' All In You by Shawn Mendes 3. Fall Again by Glenn Lewis (This one is an underrated GEM from Maid in Manhattan)

after knowing Six for about four months he touches you for the first time. 

it happens when you are out with him and Claire, you guys decided to go to an old thrift store in town

you wanted some new books and movies, and Claire was in it for the records obviously 

you guys are on the sidewalk and Claire is chatting away with you about what she was hoping to find with Six walking along listening to the conversation

 only jumping in to answer questions Claire asked or offer a sarcastic, light hearted joke at something you had said

this caused your mouth to twitch up into a small smile from time to time

and while you hoped it went unnoticed, Six noted every time it happened

when you guys are almost to the store, you pass by a group of people

seemingly on cue, Claire brings herself closer to Six, who instinctively rests a hand on her shoulder

you’re left as the closest one to the group, so, Six gently wraps a hand around your waist and reels you in closer to him

his hand flexes as he prepares to let you go, but then it relaxes and he firmly plants it there

the warmth of his calloused hand is all that can be felt in that moment

before this, he had been at arms length, never so much as touching her

always standing with a table, a counter, something keeping a distance

but not today

your cheeks heat up, as you look up at Six, who gives you the faintest wink from those ocean blue eyes right when you guys make it to the thrift store

the second time was when you were helping him clean up after dinner

Claire wanted to do dinner and a movie at home, but about halfway through the movie she’s tired and tires to hide a long yawn as she leans into you (secretly hoping Six won’t notice)

Six does. “You should go to bed, Claire”

she leans away from you, “We’re only halfway-” before a yawn cuts her off

your gaze is on her as you smile, knowing how much this meant to her and how much she loved your movie nights

you turn your attention to speak to Six, when you look at him, he quickly averts his gaze before looking back at you

“I’m sure we can finish the movie another night, Claire”

she looks at you, and says, “Fine, but help me clean up?” you nod in agreement, and wordlessly you all peel yourselves off the couch and start cleaning up

you and Claire fold the blankets and stack the pillows on top of them, and she leads you to the storage closet in their apartment

while walking she turns to make sure Six is out of earshot, “you’re going to stay to help clean, right?”

they did welcome your company, and you weren’t one to leave hosts with a mess. “of course, I’ll help, but to bed with you first”

you don’t see, but Claire smirks at your response

unlike you, she had a good idea of Six’s growing affection towards you. so, she hurries along, stacking the pillows and blankets in the storage closet. then carrying a few to her room

“there are plenty of dishes, so you might want to help Six,” she says sweetly. you raise an eyebrow at her, she’s acting weird (while you’re not picking up the hints)

“hmmm, good night, Claire”

she wraps her arms around you, “night y/n”

once she has gone to bed, you go back to the kitchen, where Six is starting to wash the dishes

“Six, you want some help with that?”

he nods, but doesn’t look your way

you silently join him and help dry the dishes and put them away

the silence is warm and comforting, until your putting away the utensils

a knife drops, slicing the palm of your hand

“mmm, shit,” you exclaim

  Six rushes over and presses a clean rag against your hand, “keep pressure on that, let’s get you to the bathroom”

he wraps an arm around you and guides you to the bathroom 

once you’re inside, he opens the cabinet looking for the first aid kit

once he finds it, he sets it on the counter, along with hydrogen peroxide

 he goes to touch you again, and stops himself

he looks you in the eyes and asks, “can i help you up on the counter?”

nervously, you nod and he grabs your hips and gently sets you on the counter

you watch him methodically as he takes your hand and removes the rag 

brushing his fingers over the cut, and flicking his eyes up at you to get a sense of how you feel 

he takes his thumb and applies a bit of pressure

jokingly you exclaim, “ouch”

he looks up concerned, but you smirk and you notice the corner of his mouth turn up

“something funny, y/n?” he asks, as he soak a cotton pad with peroxide 

“yeah, the level of seriousness in the room” you giggle 

“i can be a bit intense at times,” he admits. you know it’s true, but after a while, it’s easy to know what to expect 

“well doc, how am i looking?”

he applys a bandage to it and asks, “can you give me your hand and squeeze?”

you lay your hand in his and your fingertips run across his calloused palm

you can feel his eyes watching over you as you finally grasp his hand and squeeze

you grin and look up at him, “no pain at all, you sure you weren’t a doctor in a past life?”

he chuckles, “no, i’m sure i wasn’t”

you go to hop off the counter, and Six holds a hand to your hip to help you down

once you are, you look up at Six and he looks down at you, his hand still on your hip

he sighs and says, “it’s getting late, how about i walk you back to your apartment?”

“yeah, sure. my purse and jacket are on the couch,” you say

he nods, and motions for you to go first

you walk to the living room and grab your things, while Six puts on a pair of shoes so he can walk you out

when you’re ready he’s waiting by the door and follows you out

your apartment is only at the end of the hall, but it’s clear that Six wasn’t going to chance it

as your walking he looks over at you and says, “thank you for tonight, it was fun having someone over and i know claire loves spending time with you”

you smile and look at him, “it’s no problem. i enjoy spending time with both of you, makes things more lively”

you don’t see it, but he’s smiling and glancing at you lovingly as you open the door

almost relieved you don’t find him uninteresting

you step inside and shuck off your shoes, then look back at him, “goodnight, Six”

he doesn’t smile, but his eyes say what he feels as he says, “night, y/n”

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

[holylulusworld]

Ready for destruction masterlist

Summary: Six and Lloyd are at each other’s throat most of the time.

Pairing: Sierra Six x fem!Reader x Lloyd Hansen

Warnings: concurrence, fighting, language, Lloyd being Lloyd, angst, possible polyamory, more to be added

A/N: I decided to turn this one into a little series. Please consider I mostly don’t write canon for Lloyd.

16.666 followers ‘16 days of requests’ celebration

Ready for destruction (Prologue)

Ready for destruction (1) - Game

Ready for destruction (2) - Set

Ready for destruction (3) - Match

#lloyd hansen #sierra six #court gentry #lloyd hansen x reader #court gentry x reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #court gentry x female reader #Ready for destruction masterlist

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

Meant to Be Yours Masterlist

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

This is a dark fic!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

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

[nayspyspamsstuff]

can anybody gimme the link to that one stucky fic in which bucky and steve and the reader are playinga boardgame and its about sex i do not remember pls anyone

#stucky #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stucky smut #stucky fanfiction #stucky fanart #stucky fandom #stucky x female reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #andy barber x female reader #court gentry x reader #andy barber x reader #sierra six x reader #steve rogers x y/n

[feral-fae-writes]

Dilute Me || One-Shot

A/N: A small one-shot, something soft with a tinge of angst. Music within the title, as always. Consider it a buffer while I get my shit together. I’ve been writing a lot of meat and not enough candy for my tastes, and I wanted to write something sweet — so it’s time to give y’all diabetes.

Fandom: The Gray Man

Pairing: Sierra Six x Female!Reader, Courtland Gentry x Female!Reader 

Wordcount: 200

Type: One-Shot

Summary: Our reader stays up (and passes out) to make sure Six is safe, and, yaknow, not dead. When she does wake up and find him, she finds him worn. Of course, he objects to her involvement, and her one-off pet name, but she doesn’t care. She would happily water down his pain.

Dilute Me

Six stumbles in at three A.M, beat up and bloody. He sees you asleep on the couch, waiting. The assignment got loud. Real loud. He could’ve died. He wasn’t going to tell you that. He makes his way to the bathroom, and the sound of his heavy body falling into the shower wakes you. He's home.

You find him slumped over in one corner of the shower, already half-conscious. You turn the shower and start bathing him right there, the pain from his wounds making growly sounds of reaction spill out from his chest. The water from the shower sucks the rot right out of his bloodstream.

"I know it hurts, baby," you whisper. Both of you were never one for pet names, but it seemed right at this moment. He couldn't hear you, anyway. Or so you thought. It didn’t matter; you needed to focus on him. "Shhhh," you whisper, and he groans in dissent.

"Don't call me baby. I murder for a living."

"Well, you've definitely slain me," you snort.

"That was bad. Lot of blood," he replies, and manages to laugh, strained.

"I know. Love you."

He doesn't reply, but brushes bloody fingers over yours.

#sierra six #sierra six x female reader #sierra six x reader #courtland gentry #courtland gentry x female reader #courtland gentry x reader #court x reader #court x female reader #one shot #soft thoughts #angst #the gray man #the gray man 2022

[onceuponastory]

a taste of danger - nick fowler and sierra six x reader

Plot: It was just supposed to be an ordinary mission - Y/N was sent out by her boyfriend, mob boss Nick Fowler to find Sierra Six, charm him and throw him off their scent. Little did she know though, that her meeting with Six would change everything. Pairing: MobBoss!Nick Fowler x Female!Reader and Agent!Sierra Six x Female!Reader Warnings: 18+ Please! This is a dark fic. Mentions of abuse and violence against the reader, manipulation, smut (fingering and masturbation), some dub/non-con and SA, possessive behaviour, degradation, threats of violence and death, blood, alcohol and Nick Fowler, because that man is a warning all on his own. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: I love both Ryan and Sebastian, AND Six and Nick, so ever since I saw The Gray Man, I thought of Nick and Six interacting and their dynamic, so here we are! Even though they don’t meet in this...yet?  This fic took me forever to write, and I hope you like it!  Not beta-d, so all mistakes are my own. Also credit to my best friend @staticscreenwriting for my dividers.

Adjusting the hem of her dress and rechecking her lipstick in the mirror, Y/N’s gaze flickers to the door once again. Hopefully Sierra Six comes in soon, and then she can get this over with and go home. Her boyfriend Nick asked her…well, more like ordered her to go find Six and charm him, because his investigation was getting a little too close to home. Y/N doesn’t know exactly what Nick is so worried about Six finding out, but she learned a long time ago to stop asking too many questions about Nick’s job. All she knows is that Nick is a mob boss, the head of a powerful group of people. If Six found them, Nick and his business would be in a lot of danger. So Nick sent her out to charm six and throw him off the scent, turning his head just enough for all the evidence to disappear. And the whole time, Nick is the puppet master, controlling everything. Nick told her to use her…feminine charms on Six, because in his words, any hot-blooded male would be foolish to not go for her. It’s why her lipstick choice is bright red, and why her dress is cut in just the right way to show enough cleavage and leg. 

Sighing, Y/N fiddles awkwardly with her fingers. She loves Nick, of course she does, and she’d do anything to make him happy. But she’s just so tired of all of this. Of the scheming, the threats, the fear of someone trying to find her or Nick for some kind of retribution. Not to mention being treated like an object by everyone, including Nick. Deep down, Y/N’s wanted out of this lifestyle for a long time. Sometimes, she likes to imagine having a normal life. One not stained by blood, and one that’s full of love, rather than fear. In all honesty, she wants the ideal life: the perfect house with the picket fence, marriage, and maybe even kids. But she knows it’s foolish to dream of that, because it’ll never come true. The mob is her life, and it will be forever.

Besides, there's no way she could ever leave. She’s been with Nick and the mob ever since the beginning, when Nick saved her from a life on the streets. The mob life is all she knows. And by this point, she’s too closely intertwined with the mob, and she’s seen too much. Despite how much Nick tells her he loves her and warns the others that she’s off limits, she knows he’d be the first one ordering her to be killed before she got too far. Although she’s given most of her life to Nick (and by extension, the mob), she means nothing to them. It hurts, but it’s just the way they work. Suddenly, the door opens once more, and Y/N notices Six walking in. Showtime. As he sits down at the bar and orders a drink, Y/N braces herself and walks over to him, trying to ignore her stomach twisting with anxiety. Hopefully, this works. For everyone’s sake.

“Is that seat taken?” She asks, hoping her voice sounds alluring enough. Six grunts something in agreement, and she takes a seat, adding a “Thanks, handsome.” Nick used to love it when she spoke to him like that, but now, he barely looks at her. Well, unless he wants something from her, like this mission. Ordering a glass of wine, she can feel Six’s eyes on her immediately. Even though she knows it’s part of the job, being stared at like she’s a piece of meat never stops making her uncomfortable. “So, why is a handsome guy like you all alone on a Saturday night?” She turns to face Six as she asks the question. And as soon as she meets his blue eyes, her breath catches in her throat. God, this man is fucking gorgeous. Her eyes move even lower, to the muscles bulging through his suit jacket. This mission might be harder than she thought.

“Well, I just needed a break. And besides, I’m not alone, am I? You’re here now.” His comment makes them both chuckle, and Six clinks his beer bottle with her wine glass. Immediately, Y/N feels more at ease, just by being around Six, despite Nick’s warnings about him. Of course, she knows Nick is definitely not a saint. Yet with the way Nick spoke about Six, she thought he was worse, some kind of monster, a villain who came to destroy their happiness, and has to be stopped at all costs. In fact, he seems to be the exact opposite. As time goes on, they keep chatting to one another, and for a moment, Y/N forgets why she’s actually there. In fact, she could stay and talk to Six for hours, not to throw him off the scent, but to get to know him better. In a way, it stops being a job for her. But even though she wants to get closer to Six, Y/N knows she has to do what she came here for.

“So….” She trails off, leaning in closer and batting her eyelashes. “How about you and I get out of here and get to know each other better?” Six looks her up and down, and Y/N thinks he’s about to take her up on her offer. To her disappointment, though, Six shakes his head and gets up, muttering something about how busy he is, and how he has to go. Y/N watches him as he goes, wondering if she should follow him and try to charm him more before everything falls apart, and before her life as she knows it is destroyed. Yet, Y/N doesn’t move, and continues to watch him leave. Because deep down, she knows there’s nothing else she can do. Besides, if she kept trying to convince Six to spend time with her, he would probably find it suspicious, and that would do more harm than good for both of them.

With another sigh, Y/N turns back to the bartender and orders another glass of wine.

After another few drinks, Y/N leaves the bar. Her mind is full of anxiety the entire walk back as she wonders how the hell she can explain to Nick what happened, and why she failed at her mission. Hopefully, he somehow takes it well, even though she knows he’s going to be pissed. And there’s nothing scarier than a pissed off Nick Fowler. When Nick’s mad, it’s almost as if he snaps, and becomes a completely different person, even more dangerous than he is usually. So, she’s fucked.

Suddenly, she hears footsteps behind her, and her heart rate picks up. At first, she thinks (or rather, hopes) it’s Nick, sending someone to pick her up and see how she did. But she knows that’s not his style. Nick likes things a little more subtle. He’s not the type to do things so publicly. Her pace quickens, as does the person behind her. So the only explanation is that someone is following her. Warily, she clenches her fist together, trying to remember the self-defence training Nick taught her. Before she can do anything, however, someone grabs her, dragging her into a nearby alleyway. She tries to scream, but her assailant covers her mouth with their hand. As she is slammed against a wall, Y/N’s leg flies out, striking her assailant in the leg. It’s only until she hears an:

“Ah, fuck!” That she realises who it is. 

“Six?” she frowns, her voice muffled by his hand from her mouth. Groaning, Six removes his hand, and his blue eyes are soon back on her. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why were you following me?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He huffs. “Like why you, the girlfriend of the mob boss Nick Fowler, were flirting with me and trying to get me to leave with you?” When her brows furrow, and she asks:

“How did you-?” Six laughs. He looks over her once more, his concentrated gaze making her shiver. He is really hot.

“Please, I’m a CIA agent. What do you expect? I’ve been tracking you and your boyfriend for a long time. So again, tell me why you were following me. Are you that unhappy in your relationship? Am I your little piece on the side? Or is it because you and your boyfriend know that I’ve been tracking him, and he sent you out here to stop me rather than facing me himself?” Shit. Y/N feels the heat on her cheeks building. She opens her mouth to reply, but can’t find the words. “Well? Answer me.” Six demands, his forceful voice making the heat on her cheeks deepen as she feels the familiar feelings of arousal building. Oh god. This can’t be happening. Not here, not ever.

“My romantic life is none of your concern.” She snaps, hoping it’s enough to get him to back off. Unsurprisingly, though, Six continues his onslaught.

“That’s what you’re most worried about? Come on. Just tell me the truth, and I won’t hurt you.”

“What, you think I’m scared of you? Because I’m not.” She hisses. “Do what you want.” Six shrugs.

“Fine. In that case, when your boyfriend and his associates come to get you, I’ll be waiting for them.”

“No!” she gasps suddenly, immediately regretting it. Six raises a brow, and she sighs. “Fine. I’m here to tell you to stay away from Nick Fowler and his associates before you get hurt. Trust me, he’s a dangerous man, and you don’t want to cross him.”

“I can’t do that. He’s done a lot of bad things, and hurt a lot of innocent people.”

“And you haven’t either? I’ve heard about the shit you pulled.” Six rolls his eyes.

“That was part of the job. Besides, why are you defending him so much?”

“Because I love him! I’m sorry that you don’t understand that feeling.” She hisses. When she sees Six’s face fall slightly in reaction to her comment, a part of her feels bad. Yet, the change in his expression is gone almost as soon as she notices it. She studies his face closely in the dim light. Even with the lack of light, he is gorgeous. Nick told her that Six is her enemy, but something about him is alluring to her. “Sorry.” She murmurs. “You just need to trust me and stay away from us both.”

“For your own safety or for mine?” Six asks. Honestly, Y/N doesn’t know the answer to that question. However, Six must notice something register in her expression, so his facial expression softens slightly. “Are you okay? Is he hurting you? Is that why I have to stay away?”

“Oh my god, please fucking stop with the twenty questions! Just leave us alone!” She orders. But Six still continues to stare at her, increasing Y/N’s anger. Why won’t he just listen and leave her alone?

“You know, if he’s doing something to you, I can’t sit by and let him do it. I can see it in your face. You’re terrified.” Even though, deep down, Y/N is grateful for his concern, and she knows he could probably keep her safe for a while, it won’t help him against Nick Fowler. Six can’t get involved with her. It’s too dangerous. The last thing she wants is his blood on her hands. So, when Six asks if she’s sure that she’s okay, Y/N nods. She can tell that he doesn’t believe her, but it’s better than the alternative. “Look, at least let me tell you where to find me if you need help.”

“Are you insane?! How the hell is that going to help? What if Nick finds it?” She demands. “Look, I know you want to help, and I appreciate you looking out for me, but I don’t need it. Besides, I need to go. He’ll get suspicious if I’m gone too long.” She turns to go, but Six grabs her arm, pulling her back to him. Before she can say anything, he pulls her close, tenderly kissing her lips. When he stops kissing her, she angrily slaps him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! You can’t do that!” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Six mumbles. “You’re just so beautiful, and something about you is alluring to me, despite how much danger it could put us in. I know I shouldn’t, but I want to be with you, and make sure you’re safe.”

“Yeah, you should be sorry.” Still though, her mind fills with conflicted thoughts. Despite how angry she is at Six, she can’t deny how good the kiss was, and how much it makes her entire body tingle. Nick never makes her feel like this. So cared for, so protected...so loved. She feels her desire grow. This time, it's a desire for Six. “And I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.” She murmurs, before kissing him back, this time even harder and deeper. She knows it’s wrong, but Six kisses her with such love and tenderness, so much more than Nick, and in that moment, she wants to stay with him. Six’s hands tangle in her hair, and she wraps hers around his waist. 

“Come with me.” Six whispers. Even though she’s starting to want to, Y/N shakes her head.

“I can’t. We’re both from two different worlds.”

“I’ll find you.”  

“Please don’t look for me. Trust me Six, you don’t want to save me.” And then, with one last peck on his lips, Y/N goes.

When she gets home, Y/N tries her best to sneak back to her bedroom with no one noticing her. On the way, she thinks of Six, and her heart and body continue to ache for him. As she thinks about him, the pleasure between her thighs returns, and her pussy tingles. But it’s okay. She’s almost back to safety, and then she can deal with this and pretend it never happened. Even though Six has probably already tracked her location, and will no doubt have agents sat outside within the hour.

“There you are! I was wondering where you got to.” Nick’s voice sounds. Immediately, Y/N stops, her blood running cold. 

“Nick! I thought you were in a meeting!” She gasps. Oh shit, shit, shit. Nick raises an eyebrow at her confusion.

“Don’t be silly. I had to come see my best girl after her first mission.” He steps forward, planting a kiss on her forehead. His kisses definitely aren’t the same as Six’s. “How did it go?” He asks with a grin.

“It seems like he’s going to back off.” She lies, hoping that Nick doesn’t pick up on the lie. Or at least…that she only hopes Six is backing off, even though she knows he definitely isn’t going to.

“Good girl.” Yet, despite her telling him what he wanted to hear, Nick frowns. “Something’s different about you.” He murmurs. 

“Oh. Really? How so?” Y/N asks, trying to play it cool, trying to play it cool, despite the fear running through her veins. Nick’s eyes scan her body curiously, causing Y/N to let out a small gasp despite her attempts to seem calm, and her heart rate rises.

“I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Nick, I swear to you there’s nothing I’m hiding from you.” She insists. 

“You really expect me to believe that?” Nick scoffs. “I can smell him all over you. What happened?”

“Nothing! We just talked and kissed. That’s all, I swear.” 

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” Nick hisses. Without another word, His hand disappears up her skirt, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her underwear. Y/N quivers, and Nick tuts. “I thought so. Your pussy is dripping wet, you filthy whore.” 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N whimpers.

“Not good enough.” Nick tuts, grabbing her chin and turning her face to face him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He orders. “What is it? Am I not good enough for you anymore? Do you not want me? Is it Six you want?” As he interrogates her, he keeps rubbing his finger along her underwear. Feeling herself getting wetter by the moment, Y/N gasps. “Answer me.”

“No.” She whispers. A slap hits her cheek, and she winces. 

“Louder.”

“No.” She repeats. 

“No, what?” He hisses. When she doesn’t reply right away, he pulls down her underwear and slips his finger inside, causing her to yelp slightly. “Answer me.” 

“No, Nick. It’s you I want.” She insists. “It’s always been you.” Yet, despite her insistence, Nick continues to question her.

“You think you can just leave after all this? After everything I’ve done? I saved you from a life in the gutter, because I love you, and this is how you repay me?” His grip on her tightens, and Y/N yelps in pain, but Nick continues. “Who do you think pays for your good lifestyle and your little shopping sprees, you little whore? Because it’s not him.” He increases his speed, and Y/N writhes and moans under his grasp. As the sensation of Nick’s hot breath against her skin continues, she bites down hard, trying to quiet the beast threatening to erupt from within her. “You want to leave me, but who’s the one exciting you and pleasuring you? It’s me. You need me, don’t you?”

“Yes Nick. I do.” Her voice comes out as a strained squeak, and Nick chuckles. She clutches his arm, signifying to him that she’s close. Nick smirks. “Nick, I’m going to….” Y/N gasps but is cut off as she finally comes. She lets out a scream of pleasure, one so loud it almost shakes the walls of the building. And the whole time, Nick watches her. Once she’s done, he lets go, and she falls to the floor with an ‘oof’. Nick stays standing, staring down at her as if she’s nothing more than a piece of garbage he’d scrape off his shoe.

“Remember, I own you Y/N. You’re mine. The only way you’re getting out of here is in a fucking body bag. Do you understand me?” Suddenly finding herself unable to speak, Y/N nods. Nick chuckles. “But if you want it, then that can certainly be arranged. And I’ll see to it that agent friend of yours joins you.” Y/N knows he’s not joking. “Go tidy yourself up.” Nick orders. “We have guests coming.” He walks past her, disappearing down the hallway. As soon as he’s gone, Y/N starts sobbing.

Just a reminder I’m not doing taglists anymore, so please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn notifications on. But, I do know how much Zee loves both Nick and Six, so: @buckysboobs​.

#nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #the 355 #nick fowler the 355 #sierra six x reader #sierra six x you #sierra six x y/n #sierra six #court gentry x reader #court gentry x y/n #court gentry x you #court gentry #the gray man #the gray man fanfic #the gray man fanfiction