#court gentry x you
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Safe With Me
Summary: Six is a hard man to read up until the moment he isn’t.
Paring: Sierra Six (Court Gentry) x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.7K
Rating: Mature, 18+ only. AU, violence, blood, angst, whumpage, death and some sexual content.
A/N: If this gets a good response I will write a sequel that takes place during the movie. Please note the reader has been Claire’s caretaker since her first surgery and is in her early 30s. The story is based on this ask. Thank you N and a @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta'ing and @skvatnavle for the title.
When Six comes into your lives, you’re not sure what to make of him. He’s clearly CIA-adjacent like Fitz – or some other alphabet agency– though he has none of the easy warmth of Claire's uncle. Just his quick sense of humor, but even that comes out sparingly, often startling a laugh from you. Claire takes to him quickly, poking and prodding at his cool exterior until you begin to see little cracks in it. Small glimpses of the man beneath the protector.
Once you notice the little tells, it becomes easier to catch them. Like the soft way he looks at Claire when she’s singing along to a record or the way his lips twitch up into a brief smile every time you remember his favorite pastry from the bakery. It’s apparent in the way his hand always rests at the small of your back when you’re out in public together, guiding you along as Claire tugs excitedly at your arm. You see it in the way he keeps himself as a buffer between the two of you and other people.
It’s how you know his nightly check-in at bedtime isn't just about following security protocol. Seeing you both safely tucked into bed for the night seems to ease some of the tension he carries. Most times the two of you don’t speak, he just pokes his head in and nods, giving you that awkward little grimace he probably thinks is a smile. Claire is another story, you can normally hear her excited little voice asking Six a hundred different questions that he patiently answers.
Tonight you’re in bed early, a warm cup of tea and a book in your hand. You thumb through the pages while you wait for him to come say good night, unable to rest until this part of your routine is complete. The clock on your bedside ticks steadily forward until it’s 9:05. Six is always prompt and when he doesn't show you grow concerned, venturing out to find him. You don’t make it far before a gloved hand covers your mouth and an arm snakes around your stomach. You’re pulled back against a solid wall of muscle.
“Tell us where the girl is,” comes the gravelly demand.
In your panicked state you thrash around, jerking your head back. Pain explodes along your skull and the man groans, releasing you. When you look back, you see blood pouring from his broken nose. You scramble away from him and scream for Six but the man catches you quickly. He forces you on your back and your head snaps to the side with the force of the first blow. You lay there stunned, with the taste of pennies in your mouth. You've never been hit before or purposely hurt like this and the ugly surprise of it is almost worse than the pain.
Tears well up and you breathe in wetly, blood escaping from your split lip down your chin. The man stares at you and even though the mask hides most of his face the anger in his gaze is unmistakable. Before you can recover he hauls you to your feet and throws you roughly against the wall, demanding you take him to Claire.
"No," you croak. He strikes you a second time and you flinch. God you hope Claire made it to the panic room. The thought of this man touching her makes your stomach roll. You close your eyes when he asks you again, waiting for another blow to come but nothing happens. When you hear the audible click of a gun’s safety your eyes shoot open. The man in front of you freezes.
He’s quick to recover, turning around and bringing you in front of him as a shield. You blink rapidly to clear your tears, relief surging through your body at the sight of Six. He looks a little worse for wear, a wound on his arm bleeding sluggishly and a gash on his side. To your surprise, he doesn’t address the man but looks right at you.
“You alright?” He asks.
You're not, but you nod anyway.
“Where’s the girl? Take me to her or I’ll kill this one,” the man demands, pressing a knife to your throat.
You whimper and Six’s lips thin, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Still, he doesn’t look at the man, speaking to you again. “Did he do that to you?” Six asks, motioning to your face.
“Yes.”
“Take me to the girl,” the man growls.
You jerk in his arms when you feel the blade split the skin of your throat. Six takes a step forward but stills, watching you for a long moment before he shifts his attention to the man behind you.
“I want you to know. I was going to leave one of you alive. The CIA loves to interrogate you assholes… but you touched her. That was a mistake,” he says, his voice cold and even. When he speaks again he’s still watching the man though you know he’s addressing you. “Close your eyes.”
You squeeze them shut, holding your breath. There’s no hiding what Six means to do and even though you know it’s coming you still flinch at the sound of the gun and the hollow thump of the man’s body hitting the floor behind you. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you feel Six’s touch on the side of your neck.
At his coaxing, your eyes flutter open, and you stare at his bloodied face. You can’t stop your hands from shaking and when your lips part no sound comes out. Some part of you knows you’re in shock, but you can’t make your body cooperate. It’s a struggle to breathe.
“It’s alright, take a breath,” Six instructs, cradling the uninjured side of your face in his hand. You inhale through your nose as he continues to watch you, nodding encouragingly until you're breathing normally.
"Six," you whisper, grasping his shirt.
“How are you doing, hen?” He questions, the use of his terrible nickname for you startling a laugh from you. Mother hen. For the way you tended to follow Claire around the house, fussing over her even when she tried to wave you off. “Should we go check on our little chick?” He asks.
“Where is she? Did they-” you start.
Six is quick to reassure you. “She went straight to the safe room just like I taught her. She’s okay,” he promises.
He offers you his hand and you take it, letting him fold you into his side. The smell of blood and cordite burns your nose but underneath is the familiar scent of Six’s cologne. It helps calm you, grounding you to him until you turn the corner.
“Don’t look,” he instructs, a hand on the back of your head urging you to press your face into his chest.
You only catch the briefest look at the carnage in the living room, thankful for the way Six shields you from it. He guides you along the hallway and you don’t open your eyes until he tells you to. The thick door to the safe room slides open and you smile in relief at the sight of Claire, lamp raised and a fierce expression on her face.
As soon as she sees you, she drops it and rushes into your arms. She touches your face so gently and cries, turning even more upset when she sees the state of Six. It takes both of you nearly an hour to get her calm enough to sleep. Even then you can tell it’s a fitful slumber, her little face scrunched up in concern. You stay with her, stroking her back while Six leaves to deal with whoever he called to clean up the mess in the living room.
You’re thankful nothing happened to her but it scares you how close those men got. If they’d gotten their hands on her… You shake your head, not wanting to think about that.
“Hen.”
You turn around at the sound of Six’s soft voice, finding him leaning against the doorframe. Even though he’s cleaned the blood from his face you can still see the gray shirt clinging to his side.
“We should get you cleaned up,” you say concerned.
“That’s my line,” he tells you, brow raised. “Come on, she’ll be safe. I got three guys in the house and another four outside. No one is getting in.”
You follow him into the hall, letting him lead you to the spare bathroom. He shuts the door behind him and you turn towards the sink, flinching at the state of your face. You raise a trembling hand to your lip. Six stops you with a gentle grip on your wrist.
“Did he get you anywhere else?” He asks, looking you over critically.
“Just the face.”
“So nowhere important, huh?” He questions, making you laugh and then wince when the action tugs on your split lip. “Hop up,” he directs, tapping the counter.
When you struggle to do as he asks, a disconnect between your mind and body still, Six helps you. He grasps your hips and hefts you up with a surprising amount of gentleness. You look up, your face close to his. He squeezes your hips and steps away, bending down to take out supplies from a little bin under the sink you never realized was there.
You clear your throat and curl your fingers into the fabric of your PJs. Now that things have calmed, pain filters in through your scattered nerves.
“You a doctor now?” You ask.
“No but I play one on TV,” he replies without missing a beat, rising back to his full height.
He stands between your legs and pulls on a pair of gloves. His touch is gentle as he slowly cleans your face and treats the wound on your neck. Your eyes fall closed at the feel of his fingers tracing the cut on your throat, spreading a cool, numbing cream over the angry line. He does the same to your lip and it helps take the sting out of it. After he removes the gloves, he runs his fingers over the rest of your face, applying gentle pressure at different points. You know he’s looking for fractures or breaks. Outside of the underside of your jaw being tender to the touch, you’re mostly okay.
“It’s not a lollipop,” he warns, dropping two little pills into your hand, “but they’ll help with the pain.”
“What about you?” You question.
He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. You’re still bleeding.”
“It’s not my blood,” he tells you.
“Oh.” You fall quiet and look up at him.
He turns away from you, listening to something outside the door and you look at his face in profile. You can see the faint beginnings of bruises on his cheek and jaw and there’s a patch of dried blood at his temple. Your eyes wander down his chest, cataloging what looks like a knife wound on his right pec and another down his left side. Hesitantly, you reach out and touch him.
Six grunts, eyes closing briefly. “Well, maybe a little bit is mine,” he admits.
“Let me help you.”
“Not to sound dramatic but it’s not the first time I’ve stitched myself up,” he tells you.
“Please, I…” You trail off, close to tears again.
“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly.
You don’t know how to explain that even though he may trust the men outside, you only trust him. You don’t want to be alone. He makes you feel safe, his presence the only thing keeping you from unraveling. It was easy to hold it together for Claire but now that it’s just the two of you there’s nothing to distract from how close those men got to her or what they did to you.
Six says nothing but he doesn’t have to, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your shoulders carefully. You sob when he hugs you close, twisting the fabric of his shirt in your finger as your body shakes. He rests his chin on your head and drags his hand up and down your back soothingly. The tears don’t last long, not with him holding and comforting you.
A small part of you thinks Six needs it too. You hear him breathe out and some of the tension leaves his body. He cares a lot for you and Claire. It’s why the two of you make an effort in your own ways to make him feel a part of your little family and cared for. To know he’s worthy of that affection. Eventually, Six pulls away, smoothing a large hand over the back of your head and down to your shoulder, squeezing it.
“Alright, your turn to play doctor,” he says, reaching back to tug his shirt off.
You can’t help the small sound that escapes your mouth at the sight of his scarred body. He doesn’t react to your response, staring steadily at a point beyond your head. His right arm is the worst, deep scars mangling his tan skin but it seems like everywhere you look there’s more damage to find. Underneath your concern is another feeling, one you try to ignore because now is not the time for your body to recognize just how good he looks without a shirt.
“None of these look too deep,” you say, taking the pair of gloves he hands you and getting to work cleaning and bandaging his wounds.
You carefully avoid the gun on his hip, looking up every so often to see his face. His expression is blank, and he doesn’t react to your touch even though you know it must be painful. You want to ask him what really happened tonight, but you know he’d only give you a glib answer. After you’re finished Six inspects your work. He gives you a thumbs up and smiles.
“Not half bad, doc.”
You grin back and stare up at him, breath catching when his eyes dip to your lips momentarily. The expression on his face is uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable. You feel an answer tug in your own heart and slowly reach to touch the side of his face. Even though he’s still a mystery to you in a lot of ways you know him well enough to understand he would never make the first move. Too driven by some internal moral compass.
“Six,” you whisper, tilting your head up to invite him in.
There’s only a flicker of hesitation before he’s kissing you, a hand on your hip drawing you close to his body. He groans and you respond with a little gasp of your own when he pushes you back, your head bumping against the cold mirror. Your lips part for his tongue, a brief flare of pain from the cut there but it fades quickly when his hands cup your face. His scent and taste surround you and your body responds.
You grab his shoulder, wanting him closer and he grunts, pulling away. Pain clouds his eyes and your brows raise in concern.
“Six…”
He shakes his head and steps back, rolling his shoulder with a grimace. The air between you shifts, whatever softness he allowed to the surface dissolving as he steps away.
“You should go check on Claire,” he says.
“Alright,” you agree, letting him help you down from the counter. His hand lingers only for a moment.
He follows you down the hall to Claire’s room, hovering in the doorway as you climb carefully into bed with her. She stirs, blinking sleepily and reaching for you. When she says your name softly you assure her everything is ok, curling your body around her smaller one. She grasps your hand tightly against her chest and sighs, falling still. Six turns to leave and you call out to him quietly.
"Stay. Claire will feel better if you're close by," you lie. "She'll want to see you when she wakes up."
He nods and takes up a vigil in the brightly colored chair in the corner of her room. You lay your head on the pillow, the back of Claire’s head obscuring his figure from you. You don’t need to see him to feel safe. You know Six will always protect you and Claire.
Taglist: @wildbornsiren, @a-reader-and-a-writer and @blue-aconite.
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#sierra six x you#sierra six x reader#court gentry imagine#the gray man#court gentry x you#court gentry x reader#the gray man fanfiction#the gray man fic
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save me - court gentry/sierra six x reader
Plot: When reader is kidnapped by Lloyd and his gang, Six comes to save her.
Pairing: Sierra Six/Court Gentry (I use both names in this) x Female!Reader
Warnings: 18+ Please! Mentions of death, kidnapping, violence, torture, graphic descriptions of blood and injury, weapons/guns, and shooting. Also Lloyd Hansen being a creepy POS.
Notes: Look. I’ve always loved Ryan Gosling, even before I discovered Sebastian, and when I watched the Gray Man, I knew I had to write something for Six. If you have any requests for him please let me know!
Once again, not beta’d so any mistakes are my own.
Struggling against the zip ties binding her to the chair armrests, Y/N watches the men surrounding her, each with a large gun strapped to their belts. What felt like only less than an hour ago, she was walking home, her mind filled with boring things, like what she’s going to have for dinner or how her boyfriend is doing. And then, her life turned upside down, and she was snatched off the street. She fought back as hard as she could, but they still shoved her into the trunk of a car and drove away. And now she’s here, tied to a chair in what looks like some kind of fancy ass castle, with no sign of her boyfriend anywhere. Of course, despite how much he tries to hide it, she knows that danger comes with dating Court. After all, as a CIA assassin, he has a lot of enemies who want to do a lot of damage to them.
Deep down, she always knew a day like this would come. When his other life would bleed into their domestic life together, and put them both at risk. Yet, despite the no doubt countless risks to her life, Y/N started ignoring them after a while. Of course it was stupid to ignore them, and she knows that now, but Court always promised that he’d keep her safe, and after all the years they had with nothing actually happening…Y/N believed him, and stopped thinking she was in danger.
Y/N’s eyes move around the room, looking for a potential escape route if she somehow gets out of here. They didn’t tie her legs to the chair, so she might be able to make it out. But she doesn’t have much hope. No doubt the men with guns will stop her before she gets to the door. As she sits there, awaiting her death, Y/N’s thoughts drift to Court, and where he is. Of course, she hopes that he knows where she is, and that he’s on his way to save her. Most of all though, she hopes he’s safe. She knows that Court’s more than capable of handling villains by himself, but these guys seem to be the very definition of armed and dangerous. Even if she doesn’t make it out here alive, she hopes that Court does.
Suddenly, the door opens, interrupting her thoughts. Y/N watches as a man enters. Whoever he is, he’s swearing about something, and he looks furious. And he definitely has questionable tastes in facial hair. But then, he lays eyes on her and grins, instantly switching off his rage. “Ah, you must be Y/N.” He pulls up a chair, sitting across from her. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Lloyd.”
“What do you want with me?” Lloyd doesn’t answer her question, and instead continues to watch her, his blue eyes studying her intently. Her blood chills.
“You know, you are so beautiful. I can see what Six saw in you. Depending how things go, maybe we could grab some dinner after this.” He grins, causing her stomach to churn. When he gets no response, Lloyd huffs. “You do realise I’m giving you a compliment, right? You’re supposed to say thank you.”
“…Thanks.” She mumbles.
“Sorry, what was that? You’re going to have to be a lot louder than that, sweetheart.” When she repeats herself, he grins. “Good girl. Now that we’re acquainted with each other, the fun can really start. Where’s your boyfriend?”
“I don’t know.” Lloyd sighs, tutting slightly.
“Not good enough. Where is he?” Y/N repeats her answer again, swearing that she has no idea where her boyfriend is to Lloyd’s continued questions. With every repeated insistence, Y/N can see him getting angrier, but she doesn’t know what else he’s expecting from her. After all, she’s telling him the truth.
“What do you want with him, anyway?” She asks, watching Lloyd warily as he continues to stare at her, peering over at her like a shark watching its prey.
“He has something that belongs to me.” He leans in close, tracing a finger along her jawline. When she shudders, he smirks. “So I’ve taken something that belongs to him for a fair trade. Hopefully, for your sake, he gets here soon.”
“Get the fuck away from me.” Y/N hisses. She tries to kick him with her free leg, but Lloyd dodges it. Immediately, someone grabs her shoulder, harshly pulling her back into the chair.
“Oh, you’ve got some fire in you. I like that.” Lloyd smirks. “Just a shame it won’t do you any good.” Without another word, he raises his hand, striking her across the face hard. The sound reverberates across the room, as does Y/N’s cry of pain. Before she even has a chance to say something, another hit lands. Pain floods through her body, and Y/N bites her tongue hard to stop a cry from slipping out.
“Is that…the best you’ve got?” She asks, ignoring the blood running down her face. Lloyd laughs, an awful, cruel laugh that sends shivers down her spine. This man is a fucking maniac.
“Oh…no, sweetheart. We’re just getting started.”
After some time, Lloyd finally relents on his attack on Y/N. Y/N winces, trying to move her body into a more comfortable position. The zip ties on her wrists are digging in, so much so she has to bite her cheeks to stop the pain as tears stream down her cheeks. Lloyd broke all her fingers in his attempt to extract the truth from her. She still held strong and continued to maintain the truth about Court’s location, but fuck, she’s in so much pain. The flow of blood has exacerbated, and even breathing and crying hurts now.
Suddenly, the sound of a ringtone cuts through the air. “What did I say about phones when I’m working?” Lloyd huffs.
“I think it’s yours.” One of the armed men says. Lloyd’s eyebrow rises, and he finally stops his assault on Y/N. As he goes to answer it, the deep red of Y/N’s blood still staining his hand, Y/N lets out a breath of relief. It’s over. At least, for now.
“What the fuck?!” Lloyd’s anger fills her ears, and she jumps. “You’re supposed to be the best in the world at what you do, yet you can’t even handle one fucking man?” Y/N frowns for a moment, until the penny drops.
Court. He’s here. Y/N’s thoughts are confirmed when Lloyd turns back to her, another creepy smile on his face. “Well. Looks like your Prince Charming is here, after all.” Hope fills her every being as she imagines Court coming to save her. Yet, despite how hopeful she is, it’s overshadowed by her fear. She can see the cracks in Lloyd’s facade, and how his smile doesn’t meet his eyes. And despite everything Lloyd has done to her so far…seeing that look on his face makes her the most afraid she’s ever been. Lloyd’s a total sociopath, and he could do anything to Court. And it’ll probably be much, much worse than what he did to her. “I better give him a warm welcome.”
“No. Stay away from him!” Y/N begs. Lloyd chuckles.
“Sorry sweetheart. No can do.” Once more, he bends in close, lifting his hand to touch her once more. Fuelled by rage and fear, Y/N spits in his face, her blood spraying against his cheek. Even though she knows that it was a pretty badass thing to do, Y/N regrets it as soon as she does it. Lloyd isn’t the type of person you should piss off.
Lloyd doesn’t say anything, only seethes with anger. The silence is agonising the longer it goes on, and Y/N’s body chills as she wonders what he��s going to do next, and which body parts she’s about to lose. Suddenly, Lloyd starts laughing again. “Oh, you really shouldn’t have done that. And not just because I liked this shirt. If you’re sure you want my friends and I to kill you and your boyfriend, then so be it.” He shrugs, getting up and walking towards the door, gesturing for the armed men to follow him.
“No Lloyd, wait! Please!” Y/N screams, shouting after him. “Please don’t hurt him!”
“Too late, sweetheart. You’ve made your choice.” He announces. And then, he’s gone, and Y/N is alone.
Y/N sits in silence as she waits for someone, anyone, to return. Her entire body aches, but her fears for Court and his safety are even more painful. Of course, with a life like Court’s, Y/N always knew that a day might come when she loses him forever. But this is the first time she actually thought it would happen. And it scares the shit out of her. If he dies, what’s going to happen to her? Then again, she’s probably going to die too. Tears flow down her face once more. She isn’t ready for it to end. Not like this.
Suddenly, muffled gunshots sound from outside the room, and the hairs on the back of Y/N’s neck stand up. Whoever it is, they’re heading straight for her. As the doorknob turns, Y/N braces herself for what’s about to happen. However, to her surprise, and immense relief, the person who opens the door is who she least expects to see.
“Court?” she gasps. In what feels like a second, he’s by her side, trying to cut through the ties binding her wrists.
“Y/N, oh god. I’m sorry.” Suddenly, Y/N notices the amount of blood covering her boyfriend and staining his shirt.
“W-What happened to you? Are you bleeding?” He doesn’t respond, which makes her even more worried. “Court!” She demands.
“I’m fine, I promise.” He finally replies. “Lloyd got me a few times, but it’s nothing I haven’t handled before. Just a little scratch.” She doesn’t believe him at first, yet before she can say anything else, her wrists are free, and Court takes her into his arms, squeezing her for dear life protectively. “It’s okay. Lloyd’s gone. I took care of him. You’re safe now. It’s over.” He whispers. As soon as she registers that she’s in his arms once more, the whole situation hits Y/N then, and she breaks down in tears once more.
“I thought I’d never see you again.” She whimpers.
“Me too. But it’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m here.” He whispers, kissing every inch of her face and squeezing her tightly, as if he’ll never let go. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”
“I love you.” She sobs. “So much.”
“I love you too. Can you walk?” He asks. Nodding, Y/N takes a few steps, but stumbles a little. Without another word, Court wraps his arm around her, keeping her steady. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Come on. Let’s go home.”
#his arms are...so big. i want them to hold me#court gentry x reader#court gentry x you#court gentry x y/n#sierra six x reader#sierra six x you#sierra six x y/n#court gentry#sierra six#the gray man spoilers#the gray man#the gray man fanfic#the gray man fanfiction
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⎡ 𝙖 𝙧 𝙚 𝙮 𝙤 𝙪 𝙢 𝙞 𝙣 𝙚︖ ⎦
court gentry x afab!reader
minors go away go awayyyy!
my first fic or drabble. it’s short but i don’t know how many words. and unedited.
smut, fingering, reader is said to have a vagina, jealousy, delayed orgasm, some angst, using a guy to make six jealous, anything else please lmk
Other Writings
like he is in a fight, in your bed court grunts and growls. hands take advantage and grabbing wherever you leave open. nipples, neck, clit. it’s all with the precision of a skilled fighter, knowing how to go for the kill, to have you screaming within seconds. or, his hands take their time, torturing you until all you are are moans and breathlessness.
right now he’s going with the first option. or is it a mix of both? each time you get inches from your orgasm taking over, he takes it away. moving his attentions elsewhere on your body or sometimes completely stopping. he waits for you muscles to untense before he starts going in on you again, getting you back the that place you had been only a minute ago.
his fingers curl, pressing extra harsh into the spot that makes lighting shooting up your spine. it’s painfully delicious.
“six” you moan. “please”
you pissed him off. flirting with another man at the bar, no protest when he asked to buy you a drink. laughing, dancing, leaning.
but he pissed you off first! he fucked you and cuddled you then insisted there was nothing between you. he was your body guard and sometimes you fucked. that was it.
so you were only showing him that you understood by flirting with the other guy, right?
“hm” six teases. “what do you want?” he pretends to be clueless. but he curls his fingers again and presses his thumb to your clit.
it’s a touble not to squeal “to cum!”
“yeah?” he makes sure.
you nod.
“why don’t you ask that loser to make you cum then? you think he’ll be able to?”
“no, no!” you hold onto his jacket tightly. “need you. want you.”
his other hand curls you jaw. “and why is that?”
you whine “because i’m yours. all yours court”
six leans down to kiss you “good girl” he says before his lips touch yours. with the praise you cum, feeling your walls squeeze his fingers tight. you almost cry with relief.
when you relax again, six pulls his fingers out but you push him down before he pulls away. he lays in the bed now and you climb over him. “now” you put your hand around his erection.
“are you mine?”
#sierra six x reader#court gentry x reader#ryan gosling#sierra six#court gentry#the gray man#sierra six x you#court gentry x you#my writing
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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
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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
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Rematch | Sierra Six x F!Reader
Summary: a rematch between Lone Wolf and Sierra Six commences, but he's only thinking about protecting you
Word Count: 1457
Warnings: violence, fluff, blood, angst
A/N: this idea for a re-write of Lone and Six fightings was asked of me by an anonymous reader and I absolutely love the idea!! I hope I did it justice! there is a minor Six x reader included and I did that to add more to his need to save the reader...hope you enjoy it!
Six knew from the very beginning that falling in love with you was totally a bad idea, but it happened anyways. You were Claire's caretaker, watching her most days and making sure she didn't have any trouble with her pacemaker. You were skilled in a lot of medical needs, like stitching up wounds for instance. When the few brake ins that did happen, you didn't think twice before shoving Six into a chair and stitching him up. Claire would watch from the doorway. She watched the way his eyes trailed your body, or how his hand would always come up to move your hair out of your face, even the small touches to your waist when you would dap his cuts. You felt the same feelings Six did, all the touches and glances led you to believe that this wasn't something simple between the two of you. You and knowing his line of work it scared you a little. Soon the two of you bit the bullet and got together, keeping it on the down low from anyone except for Fitz and Claire. So when Loyd's men came to take you and Claire, you figured he had no idea you meant so much to Six and just that you happened to be family to Fitz.
He was also outraged when Fitz mentioned the two of you, Claire and yourself, being taken. Six was caught off guard sure, but the rage was the only thing he focused on. When he and Dani stormed the castle he was hell-bent on finding the three people in his life he cared for. While Dani went to distract the rest of the individuals in the house, Six tried his best to sneak inside. Six was angry, and he knew if anyone were to stand in his way, he would get aggressive. The house was quiet, almost too quiet. The doors opened to a small four and then the rounded stories. Six could see that the two sides, left and right, led to different hallways, he knew they wouldn't be downstairs and if anything would be kept in the further part of the upstairs. As Six crept up the stairs, trying to make as little nice a swoosh of air and a knowing tell of a man's boot sounded through the foyer. A knife came flying through the air, almost hitting Six smack in the face. He glanced towards the wall that the knife was sticking out of then down at Lone Wolf who was waiting below the stairs.
“Again?” Six quipped. Six knew that he could have passed through the halls unnoticed, but the man from the hospital had been so stealthy as to wait for Six to arrive that he had caught him. Six walked down the stairs meeting the Lone wold in the more fore. Six was still mad and knew that if this fight didn't stop at some point someone was going to end up not breathing. The two of them circled one another, Six dropping the gun he had in preparation for a hand-to-hand fight with the Lone Wolf. Lone signaled to Six to initiate the fight, something both wanted but neither wanted to start. Six wanted to end him, after the fight at the hospital and the multiple holes he had now because of him, he wanted to see him on the floor. Lone pulled out another knife, Six remembered his knife fighting from the hospital. Lone did his best to snag Six while they were fighting, Six did his best to dodge. Lone and Six kept up the fighting, Lone sliding while Six tried his best to evade and get the knife out of his hand. The martial arts techniques that both used made the fight seem more like a dance, the two hitting and jumping away, and one after another more blood pooled on the marble floor. While Lone fighting style included a bunch of kicks, sweeps, and throws Six was the opposite focusing on using his strength and evading techniques to win the fight. It didn't go over so well seeing as one would get hit in one area and followed by the other getting hit just opposite. Lone would switch out the knife style for basic martial arts and then throw the knife back into the fight
Once Six got the knife out it was all hand to hand. Six had blood dripping down his cheek and Lone had a busted mouth from the battering Six had done. Both men were in immense pain and were tired of all the constant fighting that would happen. Six knew he was winning, could feel it and so could Lone Wolf. Lone passed around Six, wondering just what he could do to make this agent give up. When Lone threw his first punch Six dogged, another was thone landing right in Six stomach, making him hunch over. This continued Lane getting the upper hand and landing hit after hit. It didn't take long for Six to get back to eh swing of things and start his barrage of attacks again. This battle lasted a while Six glanced over at Lone with heavy breathing. These men were both tired and knew that they couldn’t keep going at this.
“Wait!” Six said, huffing, Lone stopped, “He plans to kill you, not give you the money, I'm just here to save the people that were taken” he explained. Lone faltered, looking over at the agent with questioning eyes.
“The child?” Lone asked, hoping that these were the people he was talking about.
“And her nurse” Six added without missing a beat. He missed her and knowing she was just upstairs was killing him.
“Yours?” Lone inquired.
“Mine” Six responded confidently and assertively letting the other man know that if anything were to happen to you, he would mind going for another round. Lone nodded and started walking behind Six towards the stairs.
“They are this way” Lone said allowing Six to trail after him towards the room.
You heard three bodies drop in the hallway. Your sore cheek hurt as you clutched Claire to your chest while also watching Fitz doing his best to stand guard with his broken hand. When Six faces appeared in the doorway, and the stupid wink he did send your heart pounding, you jumped from behind the couch and ran into his arms. He draped the gun to the floor to be able to catch you and hold you close. You could see the blood and bruising that was on his face made you filter in his arms.
“I leave you for a month and you come back sporting cuts the size of rivers,” You said to him once he placed you back on the ground, “Makes me think your just with me for my nursing abilities”
“Maybe, but it's your smile that keeps me”, he said back, his eyes smiled down at your face which spread into the biggest smile he had seen in a while. His hand came up, covered in a short glove, and stroked your cheek.
“Who did this” Six asked worriedly. The bruise that was forming along your cheek and up the side of your face was bad. It was the only strike you had taken, seeing as the man that had taken you from your home.
“It's not important” You insisted, not wanting to think about the things Six may do to them.
“It is!” He insisted, wanting to know wherever had hurt you.
“Well I don't know his name, you probably killed him already,” You said back, raising your voice. Six’s facial experiential dropped at your tone, not used to you being so aggressive. You were often soft-spoken and kind, and having to care for Claire meant you had a motherly attitude most of the time. “Can we just go home?” you asked him after watching his face change. You ran a hand over his face, watching him melt under your touch. He was glad you were safe and with him because if he had found you in any worse shape more bodies would be piled up. Six nodded, he wanting nothing more than to see you out of harm's way. Once Six had dealt with Loyd and the CIA agent Suzanna you were sent to live with Claire at a secure location. You were trapped in a room for weeks, only being let out to eat and go outside for fresh air. When Six came to get you, he looked put together. You smiled up at him.
“Let's get out of here, hm?” He asked taking the two of you away from the CIA facility and onto another adventure.
A/N: I really hope you liked it and anyone that wants to send me a request is more than welcome to!! Towards the end of August, however, I won't be posting as often as college starts but I will try.
TagList: @blackberries45
(let me know if you would like to be added)
#sierra six x you#sierra six x reader#sierra six#court gentry#court gentry imagine#court gentry x you#court gentry x reader#the grey man fan fiction#the grey man#ryan gosling#i love ryan gosling#obsetion
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Sierra Six x Analyst!Reader
In response to an Anon ask, I give you this little one-shot. 🥰
Summary: As a CIA analyst, you've been assigned to help Sierra Six twice. This second time proves a little smutty for you.
Random Notes: Long-haired female reader, usage of words I feel weird writing, Six slighty OOC (hard to write that man as a lover sometimes) but I based him on how he is in Ballistic (Book 3).
TAGS: Smut, explicit sexual content, porn no plot, fluff(y), Six's uncontrollable angst, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, fluff, happy ending, ambiguous ending.
WORD COUNT: 5.3k
ANON ASK
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Six sits on a stone bench inside a cacophonous mall. His target is a mid-level trafficker: forties, American, good-looking. The kind of man who could successfully sell anything. The criminal sits at a table across the cavernous room, waiting for a buyer who will never show.
In D.C. for an op, Six is pleasantly surprised to hear a long-awaited voice over his comms.
"Good afternoon, oh-Six. It's very nice to see you again." He can hear your big smile.
"Considering I can't see you, I'll settle for saying that it's nice to hear you," though he wants to, Six doesn't smile for operational security.
He gets back to business, "I have eyes."
"I’m sure you've done your homework, Six, but I still have to tell you that there's an alley twenty meters behind the service doors, and Tally One will be using it to exit."
Six doesn't respond. He did do his homework. This was a run-of-the-mill mission. This man would be dead in that alley within ten minutes, and the world would be better off because of it. Six needed to exert no brain power over it. His thoughts instead drifted to taking advantage of being on the same continent as you.
Six months ago, he'd been in Peru for a week on an assignment. You'd been his analyst. However, your involvement had been remote - providing Six with data via phone calls. The sweetness in your voice couldn't be mistaken for anything other than a good soul. He'd enjoyed the warmhearted, personal way you'd spoken to him. He'd seen your file in the mission documents and noted your staff photo. Six was surprised to find himself looking forward to your phone calls. He'd thought about you often since Peru, hoping you’d be assigned together again.
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Ten minutes later, Six stands above the body of the trafficker. It was as cut and dry as he had planned, and the man never even saw it coming. Six wipes the knife and tosses it next to the body. Typically, other members of the CIA would come clean house, but they were content to leave this guy for the locals.
You pop your head from around the corner of the alley, your hair swinging out like a pendulum. Six notices the movement and his head snaps up to address the threat, but a jolt shoots through him at the sight of you. Bizarrely, he wants to shield you from the sight of the body, so he steps in front of it.
You round the corner and smile gratefully at his chivalrous gesture.
"It is so strange. I’ve been involved in the deaths of targets, but seeing their bodies in person is something else.” You're contemplative, staring at the man’s motionless form.
He doesn't reply, too distracted by you being physically present. You had been in a CIA polo and your hair had been pulled back in your employee photo, but now that you were blending in in civilian clothes, he could finally, properly see you. His heart beats faster.
You hold out your hand, wanting to introduce yourself officially.
"This is my first time out in the field. I’m glad they set me up with a legend like you, Six." You beam at him, then your tone softens, “I enjoyed talking to you last time.”
"Being a legend isn’t very fun, let me assure you."
He takes your hand. You can't help another grin. His hand is much larger than yours, and he holds onto it a second longer than he should.
He continues inelegantly, “I’m also glad it’s you here today.”
"Our ride is in five blocks. Are you okay to go?" You ask in case he had been injured.
The genuine concern on your face makes him want to smile. No one ever cared unless he was visibly bleeding.
He motions for you to lead the way, and it's one of the least altruistic acts he's ever committed. Six shamelessly let his eyes rove. The knee-length sundress you have on hugs your waist perfectly, your hair swings as you stroll, and when you turn to look back at him, Six feels his heartbeat speed up again. His characteristic near-smile appears on his face, which causes butterflies to take flight in you.
He’s so intimidating, you think. What is he smiling at?
Two blocks after leaving the alleyway, you spot a group of cops standing around eating lunch. Six eyes them as they lean down to listen to their radios, and he knows the body’s been found. They collectively trash their food and begin to jog in your direction.
Thinking quickly, you grab Six’s hand and turn into him, placing your other hand on his chest. He instinctively puts his arm around your waist, and you tilt your head up, pretending to be deep in loving conversation.
The cops run by you both without a second glance. You take a steadying breath, peeking around Six to make sure they’re gone. Once certain, you look back up at him. His arms haven’t released you, and his face looks like you’ve struck him.
Six knows what you’ve done was purely tactical, but he feels like he’s just short-circuited. All thoughts of avoiding detection have left his mind, replaced by the feeling of you. He could smell the buttercream scent of your nude lipstick. He could feel your chest rising and falling against his own.
“We’re clear,” you whisper.
He nods and lets go of you unwillingly.
You notice his hesitation and your body tightens at the thrill. Sierra Six does not think of me that way. Be professional, you tell yourself.
Wandering through downtown D.C., you navigate the busy streets until the two of you reach a black SUV. Six gallantly opens the front passenger door for you, which he’s satisfied to see makes you blush. Six gets in the driver’s seat and pulls away from the curb. He’s navigating as deftly as he can, but this city is one of the busiest in the world, and Six is well-known for his poor driving skills. The CIA’s best asset is no match for metropolitan traffic. You decide to pass the time.
“Have you been enjoying being back in the States?” You ask timidly.
You’re fiddling with the hem of your dress, which does not escape Six’s notice.
“I am now,” he says.
What does that mean? “I hope you’re able to see family, or friends, or whoever while you’re back. I’m sure it’s difficult being away all the time.”
He doesn’t answer, which makes you nervous that you’ve touched a raw subject. You can’t know that he’s trying to work up the courage to let you in. To connect with you.
“I’m sorry,” you almost whisper, “I don’t mean to be too forward.”
Your hands twist in your lap. Six’s close proximity is making your heart thump wildly, and you feel self-conscious.
Six is fascinated by your incongruous personality. You are sweet and kind. How did you wind up in such a cutthroat, gritty workplace? So, he asks. In Six’s straightforward way.
“How do you work for the CIA?”
“Oh, I have a few degrees in communications, languages, and finance.”
He raises his eyebrows at you, so you add, “I couldn’t decide what I wanted to study, so I tried them all. And then my aunt - she works in Operations - said I should try for a position as an analyst.”
Six laughs, “I never finished high school.”
Because you hear the bitterness masked in his words, you kindly lay a hand on his arm. You feel the hard muscles tense beneath your touch, which was the opposite of your intention, but you aren’t aware of how touch-starved he is. His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel.
“I know enough about the Sierra program to know why you didn’t. I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure the justice system failed you given your age.”
The vehicle lurches to a stop at another red light. Six looks over at you, amazed at your desire to soothe him. No one had ever tried to cheer him up over his own crime - except maybe Fitzroy. His jaw is clenched as he sorts out his thoughts. Six does not want to drop you off at the Langley headquarters right now, so he finally emboldens himself.
“Have you eaten?” His face is unreadable. He grimaces internally, wishing he could’ve worded that more clearly.
Not getting the hint, and hoping your admission about his past didn’t offend him, your words stumble over each other, “Oh, uh, no. I haven’t. But, if you don’t mind - I hate to even tell you this - but analysts don’t get paid all that much, so I never eat out,” you explain. “My sandwich is back at the office.”
The light changes, and he’s forced to turn away, but he tries to clarify, “I’m- asking you out for dinner.”
Oh.
“You- what?”
Your heart feels like it’s going to pound through your chest. The blood rushes in your ears. No one had asked you on a date since you’d started at the agency, and the first person to do so was Sierra Six?
He tosses you a minuscule smile before returning his eyes to the road. Six should’ve known your diffident nature wouldn’t allow you to flirt, but he wasn’t any good at it, either. He chuckles under his breath at the comedy routine this was becoming.
A small, disbelieving giggle leaves your lips. “Okay, yeah! I’d love to, Six.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You’re seated at a nice restaurant. Nice enough that they had a coat check, and the bathrooms had antechambers with chaise lounges. Six wasn’t trying to impress you; he just liked the steak here. It never crossed his mind that you might think he was trying to show off his means. Despite his humble beginnings, Six hadn’t thought about money in nearly thirty years - thanks to prison and the CIA.
“This place is so fancy,” you laugh. “Am I going to get kicked out for my dress?” It has spaghetti straps, and you’re worried.
“Do they do that?” Six had no idea if this restaurant had a dress code. He was always in a suit, anyway. Six frowns at his own lack of knowledge and chides himself for getting lazy in the U.S. His words don't assuage your worry, but you figure they probably wouldn’t have let you in to begin with.
“I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with it.” He reasons, “I like it. It's very s-” He cuts himself off at the way you're squirming.
“Thank you,” you feel hot again. You shyly duck your head.
You are nervous. Six didn’t need his extensive training in body language to tell him that. Six wonders if a non-physical compliment might make you feel more at ease.
“You were kind to me in Peru. That’s uncommon in this business.”
You meet his attentive gaze, shake your head at his words, and sigh, “That makes me sad. I guess when you see the worst of humanity day after day, it does one of two things to people. It hardens or softens them.”
“What do you think it does to me?” He asks.
You hesitate, wondering if you should be honest. “I think you’re one of the rare exceptions where it does both.”
Six sits back in his chair. “Soft is a dirty word in my line of work.”
You smile, your confidence growing. You shift forward onto your elbows, “That’s the beauty of you. You’re the only operative I’ve ever heard of who is so -” You remember you’re in public, “So good at your job but selective about your targets. You’re like Batman.” You raise an eyebrow in mock conspiracy.
Six laughs, loudly, which surprises both of you. “Batman? Jesus, that’s a first.”
“You’re better, actually,” you continue. “The things you do can be terrible - certainly the ones you go after think so,” you laugh awkwardly. “But the reality is that those terrible things do more harm to you. And you do them anyway because it’s what’s necessary. You’re a good man. You put everyone else above you.”
It’s the most passionately he’s heard you speak, and he forces down the lump in his throat. Six did not agree with you. He was inside his own head, and he knew exactly how little the acts he committed affected him. He didn’t understand that that was exactly what you meant. That the coldness in which he insulated himself also froze him out from the warmth.
“There are things the CIA does not know about me,” he says carefully. He clasps his hands on the table. “And you would not think they were good.”
“You’re human, Six.” You soothe, placing one hand over his. “You aren’t perfect, and you shouldn’t hold yourself to a standard that no one else does.”
Six falls into your eyes for a moment, stunned by the grace and sincerity. His eyes start to tour around your face, appreciating your features, before stumbling over your parted lips. His own part involuntarily, and you feel a twist of tension in your gut.
His eyes don’t leave their target as he asks, “You really think I’m a good man?”
“I mean - I don’t know you personally, I guess, but… yes. Given what I do know and how I feel about you having met you.” You blush at your choice of words, but it was honest.
“Would a good man want to do the things I want to do to you?” It’s said in a thick voice.
He feels guilty for his lustful thoughts, but they just won’t stop. He's drawn to your goodness like a moth to a flame.
Your mouth goes dry, and you answer in a whisper, “I - I don’t know.”
He smirks in a self-deprecating manner. His eyes flick back up to yours. “I think the answer’s ‘no.’”
“Six -” you start, but the waiter comes by to bring your food.
You’re no longer hungry given the look in the eyes of the man across from you. All you want to do now is take him back to your apartment and show him what you really think of him.
You thank the waiter - twice while he refills your water - and he leaves the two of you alone again. You’re speechless now, feeling awkward, wondering how to suggest it.
Six feels more awkward. He was trying not to scare you away, but instead, all he seems to do was put his foot in his mouth. He decides to change the subject abruptly.
“Do you have family?”
“Oh, uh, yes.” You’ve got whiplash from the differences in subject matter, but you tell him about your family. You mention that you’re alone in D.C. “It gets lonely on the holidays. I try to bring in some cheerfulness to the office since there are others like me, but I feel like I don’t really make a dent.” You admit.
“I’m sure you do. I already told you that you made a dent for me six months ago.” Six tries to argue. He finds it hard to believe that you couldn’t lift anyone’s mood, but he also knows the kind of assholes that work at the CIA.
You don’t make eye contact, still feeling unsteady and surprised at the turn your day has taken. Six can read your body language, but his translation is off. He believes he’s offended you, and he’s already trying to manage his anger at himself. Six had waited half of a year to be assigned together again, and now he was blowing it because he had the social graces of a monkey.
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back,” he pushes back from his chair and buttons his jacket.
You notice the look on his face as he gets up and turns away. While your training isn’t as thorough as his, your translation is spot on. You watch as he opens the men’s room door and vanishes.
You make a split-second decision.
Standing, you walk the fifty paces toward the bathroom doors. They’re rather far from the tables, you note happily. You swivel your head from side to side trying to see if anyone is watching as you pull open the men’s room instead of the women’s.
Inside, the antechamber is a deep red with artwork adorning every inch of space on the walls. You turn and see that the door locks with a deadbolt, so you throw it in place. Classical music is piped in, and a violin cries as you turn the corner to see Six standing at the sink, adjusting his jacket sleeves.
Six is visibly shocked to see you. He whirls around, pulls his gun, and races over to you.
“What’s wrong?” He’s immediately on alert.
You smile but it falters, your bravado beginning to disappear now that you’re face-to-face with him and he misunderstood your entrance.
No turning back now, you decide.
You grab his jacket’s lapel and pull him down into a kiss. His face remains impassive for several seconds as he tries to wrap his mind around what’s taking place. You part your lips, kissing him a second time, then a third time, before he finally starts to relax his own lips.
Once he reciprocates, you grab his biceps, pushing him backward in the direction you hope the furniture is. He lets you push him, which oddly makes the tension in your stomach coil faster. Six’s knees fold partially when they connect with the edge of the chaise; he sits down, grabbing your thighs in the process. His gun is discarded beside him.
Your hands frantically unbutton his jacket. He shrugs out of it. His white t-shirt leaves his scarred, tattooed arms bare to you. You rake your nails tenderly down his skin and he shudders. His lips move with yours. His tongue enters your mouth just enough to drive you wild. You lecherously note when his dick twitches underneath you.
Six’s hands come up to cradle your face, wanting to be delicate at first, but he’s ashamed to have initially thought this was a ruse. It makes him overcompensate. His hands drop to skate up your dress, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, your ass. He pulls your body down against him roughly. Six smirks at the desperate noise you make. He wants to hear everything he can make you say.
You’re wearing the worst possible underwear, of course, as there was no thought in your mind that this would be happening. They’re old, thin cotton with holes in them. They were comfortable, but they were ugly.
Feeling frumpy, you pull out of the kiss to breathlessly tell him, “Wish I’d worn something nicer,”
You feel a jerk and hear a ripping sound as Six hooks his fingers in the elastic waistband and pulls them apart easily, his arms flexing underneath your hands.
He leans forward to taste your lips again, and mumbles, “Now I don’t have to replace them.”
Your fingers move to unzip his pants, and he groans when they graze his swelling bulge. You slide his pants down to his knees - you don’t need them all the way off, you just need him - before settling onto your knees. Your hips buck of their own volition, all-but riding his naked thigh. He clamps a hand over your mouth to muffle the cry you let out at the relief.
“Fuck,” he laughs softly, entranced by the blissful satisfaction on your face.
His laugh makes his cock jump, which reminds you of something you’d thought of often when regarding Six.
You stand, then drop to the tile floor on your knees. You quickly twist your hair into a bun, using your scrunchie to keep it out of your way. You trail your fingers down his muscular thighs, pulling his boxers down now as well. You pull his pants further (now you really do need them gone). You look up at him, wondering if this is okay.
Six is not breathing. His blonde hair is mussed from your hands. His white t-shirt is his only article of clothing. He’s looking down at the sight before him like it’s a cosmic event. His heart pounding, Six watches as your lips, the very same lips he felt depraved over earlier, wrap around his aching cock. He groans as your cheeks hollow and you start an agonizingly slow drag. His eyes close in bliss but he forces them back open. He does not want to miss a moment of this.
You cup one hand underneath his testicles as your other hand strokes along his velvety shaft, working in tandem with your mouth. Your tongue teases along a vein and Six’s hips jerk slightly. You hum, gratified. You wiggle around, your heels pressing into your clit to relieve yourself somewhat.
You relax your muscles, taking him until his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag quietly. Tears spring to your eyes as you make eye contact with him, and he almost cums right there.
“Fuck,” he says again, a strained whisper this time. He grasps your chin and eases himself from your mouth, explaining, “You come first.”
The back of your hand comes up to wipe your mouth, before you’re straddling his lap once more. His lips and teeth and tongue work at your neck, your chest, while his hands push down the straps of your dress to give him more access.
You can feel him, heavy and straining beneath you, and you can’t stop yourself from sliding your hands along his shaft. You tease the head of his cock against your folds, causing both of you to groan.
Suddenly, you’re on your back. The chaise scrapes the floor in protest. You almost lose your breath with the speed he’d tucked you underneath him. But you’re not complaining. He sheds his shirt, and now Six is completely nude.
He’s so beautiful. You feel so pleasantly small underneath him and his intensely warm gaze. Six is making you feel protected and admired. It’s an overwhelming feeling. Your fingers press against the pinup tattoo on his left pectoral as if to feel the ink impression.
I’m still dressed, it flashes in your mind. As you complete that thought, however, he rucks up your skirt and pulls the bodice down, leaving you exposed to him.
Six wastes no time palming your breasts, unabashedly enjoying them. He shifts closer to kiss you, while the movement edges his cock along your entrance.
Six barely leaves your lips, you can still feel his breath, but he locks eyes with you as he tilts his hips and pushes the tip of his heated cock inside you.
Your gasp breaks into a moan, your eyes wide. You grasp at his neck with one hand while the other flutters to his hip.
Six throbs at your reaction. He leans back more, settling his hands on your breasts again, and uses the motion to push himself deeper. You keen at the fullness and watch as his eyes close with a groan. They fly open, black in lust, when he bottoms out. You shiver in your own desire, and he bends down over you, thinking you’re cold. He pushes a lock of hair behind your ear, and you wonder how in the world he could think he’s a bad man.
His hand grabs your left hip, holding you still, while the other hand covers your mouth. His thumb caresses your chin. Six drags his cock along your walls, reveling in the hot grip around him. He pulls out completely before easing back in, just as slow. Six is absorbing every little expression, every ridge inside you, every little sound you make.
Your chest lifts, wanting to be as close to him as possible. He’s almost fully seated inside you again when he suddenly thrusts hard, letting out a grunt as he does so. A small scream is muffled by his hand. He does it again, and it sends a shockwave up your body. He continues, rocking his hips into you faster, hitting some spot inside you that’s beginning to make you feel lightheaded. You’re making sounds without a care, knowing he’s got you there, too.
He withdraws from you with a strangled sound and rolls you onto your stomach. He pulls your hips toward him, raising you onto your hands and knees. You giggle, arching your back for him. A deep groan rolls in Six's chest at the sight of you so willing and pliant for him.
You feel his hands grip your hips, his fingers curling into your thighs, as he slowly re-enters your body. The invasion feels even better this time. He pushes himself inside again, his body rigid at first, savoring the way your walls let him in. His balls swing against your clit sinfully. You feel like you're being split in two, and you bite your forearm to soften your cry. Six does no such thing. His broken moan is not loud, but it reverberates in the room, setting fire to your body.
Six rolls his hips dramatically, wanting you to feel every inch of him. He sluggishly builds his speed, mesmerized by the way your body moves with his. You throw an arm out in front of you, bracing against the arm of the lounge. Six reaches forward to masturbate you, and you press your face into the cushion to whine, your face rubbing on the fabric with his rhythm.
Six leans over you, his thrusts never stopping, and carefully rips the scrunchie from its place. He grasps your hair again, wrapping it around his fist, and gently pulls you back until your head is on his shoulder. You can feel him grunting and panting on your damp skin.
Your hands reach behind you for some purchase and you find it in his hair. His fingers continue to work your nerves perfectly. You feel the cliff approaching, and you open your mouth to tell him, but he hits a particularly sensitive spot and you splinter. Sheer, white-hot pleasure rips through you. Your toes curl viciously. Your knees buckle and Six falls with you. You clamp one hand over your own mouth to dampen the torrent of cries. Your walls clench around Six as he continues to plunge himself into you, though faltering slightly. He’s breathing heavily in your ear, and you finally recognize that he’s murmuring.
“So good. Fuck, you’re so good.”
It’s as if he’s not even talking to you; Six is just telling the universe. You’re pretty sure he’s not aware he’s voicing his thoughts. You tilt your head back in search of his praising mouth, and he understands, surging forward to kiss you from behind. He drops your hair, letting it fan out along your back.
His movements begin to stutter and his hands massage your breasts. Into your shoulder, he grunts with each laborious thrust. You feel lightheaded with bliss. You look back at him again and he notices the mascara running from your lust filled eyes. Six could not be more aroused than this and it finally breaks him. He groans as he buries himself inside your tight heat, coming hard in a burst of final thrusts.
You both sit in this position for several moments, trying to catch your breath and hoping you've not been heard. He kisses your temple as he carefully leaves your body. You miss him already.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Six was gone. It had been nearly two months since your tryst in the fancy bathroom. Immediately after dressing that day, he had been called and sent off to some far reach of the world, and you'd heard nothing from him.
It was terrible. You had no closure, no explanation on what that was or if it meant anything. You went about your job as usual. Despite working for the self-proclaimed intelligence agency, you learned nothing of Six. You knew he was okay - he was too strong, too lucky for anything serious to have happened. No, what you worried about was whether or not you'd ever see him again. And why the thought of never seeing him again made your heart break. You eventually pushed every thought of Six away, trying to block out the memory of him.
One quiet evening, you sit munching on crackers at your desk. Only one track of fluorescent lighting illuminates your office, and the other desks are empty. Everyone else has gone home, but you sit hoping for some news of Six. Normally, you don’t sit here after hours, but it's Friday - the only day you allow yourself to think about him - and you'll have to spend the whole weekend in the metaphorical dark.
He's the Gray Man, you dumbass. You need to get over him. You feel like crying over your inability to let go of Sierra Six, but crying makes you feel worse, so only a few tears make it down your cheeks.
You gather your things and sling your bag over your shoulder. Stepping out into the brightly-lit hallway, you see a figure walking toward you from the far end.
You swipe at your tears, but you're sure the person saw your motion which was just as obvious. Your eyes are blurred, but you realize it's a tall, blonde man in a gray suit. His steps are quick, determined.
Your stomach seizes up in nervousness. Is it him? Surely not, there's no reason for him to be here now.
But as you blink away the blurriness, you recognize the strikingly blue eyes, the reserved smile. You lift a hand up in a timid wave, unsure how this is going to go.
You're not left waiting long as he closes the distance within seconds. He doesn't exactly feel comfortable making the first move, but he knows from your body language that you're taking his lead. So, as he reaches you, his hand comes up to cup your damp cheek.
"Hi." Your voice breaks on the short word. Was the gentle touch him trying to get back in your pants? Or did it mean something more?
"You were crying?" His eyebrows furrow.
"I- It was a rough day." You answer lamely. Then you ask curiously, "What are you doing here?"
"Is it not obvious?" Six drops his hand, confused. He thought he had a flashing neon light above him: Six is In Love.
"Everyone's gone home." You tell him, meaning the upper echelon who ran the Sierra program.
"I don't care about them. I'm- I'm here to see you." Six says it cautiously, now concerned about what you'll say.
Your voice is little more than a squeak, "For some company?"
Six's eyebrows furrow again, deeper this time. He frowns. "Not that kind. You think higher of me than that, don't you?"
"I did. I do. But I haven't heard from you in two months, Six. I'm not sure what happened that day. I don't know what you want and I can't stop wondering what you want." Tears well in your eyes again.
Relieved now, Six's laugh is more of a sigh. He cradles your face in his rough hands.
His blue eyes burn into yours as he spells it out, "I want you. You and your soft kindness. I spent two months away because I had to. But I also had to come back." It's clear he means for you. "As for what happened, well… you came on to me in that bathroom." He smirks.
You smile up at him, joy sparking in your heart, your hands holding onto his arms. You had tried to forget Six, but he's the kind of man you can't forget - despite his Gray Man reputation.
"You're glowing," Six says reverently.
#sierra six#sierra six x reader#court gentry#courtland gentry#fanfic#my fics#personal#smut#anon asks#the gray man#the gray man 2022#ryan gosling#six#court gentry x you#court gentry x reader#fanfiction
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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
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Oooofff that gif set of Six in that black shirt 🤤 him fucking you up against the wall while he wears that and those gloves
BESTIE.
Yes.
NSFW thoughts under the cut. 18+ only.
Can you imagine him fingering you while wearing those gloves, his lips on your neck as he works you to orgasm? How he would shush you and tell you to be quiet so you're not discovered while he uses his big body to press you into the wall. You’d have nowhere to go, nothing to do except take the pleasure he gives you. When you come, he’d silence your cries with a gloved hand over your mouth and press kisses to your forehead as you fluttered around his fingers. Then he’d urge you to turn around.
"Hands on the wall," he’d direct, tapping your feet with his boots to get you to widen your stance. Then he’d reach down to pull your dress up and tug your underwear aside.
"Ready?" He would ask, waiting for you to nod before filling you with one powerful thrust because at the end of the day, Six is the king of consent.
You’d both groan at the feel of him and you’d push, trying to take more of him but his hands on your hips would stop you. He’d want to control the pace, starting slow, dragging his cock in and out of your wet heat to work you up again. He’d love to get you trembling and desperate, begging him. He’d want you to need him so bad you're not even aware of what you're saying anymore. Nonsensical pleas for more and yes and oh god.
Only then would he fuck you like you both want, hard and fast but still somehow gentle because it’s Six and even when he’s violent there’s something sweet there for you.
#sierra six thoughts#sierra six x reader#court gentry x reader#sierra six x you#sierra six imagine#court gentry imagine#court gentry x you#court gentry#sierra six#the gray man#the gray man fic
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family - sierra six/court gentry x reader
Plot: When Claire is missing her old life and hobbies after everything that happened, Six knows what to do. // Requested by anon.
Pairing: Sierra Six/Court Gentry (I use both names in this) x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death, kidnapping, trauma, scarring and nightmares. Also some mentions of reader seeing/hearing things that aren’t there. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know.
Notes: My Six streak continues! Thanks anon for the request! I hope you like it.
Once again, not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.
“Morning Claire.” Y/N smiles, dishing up their breakfast as she sits down at the table.
“Morning Y/N. Where’s Six?” Y/N frowns as her brain swims with thoughts. Thoughts on how to tell Claire that Six is outside cleaning up after another assassin tried to break in last night. Then again, Claire probably knows already. She’s a smart kid, and even though she’s tough as nails (especially with her heart condition), Y/N can still tell that this whole thing is upsetting her. Being kidnapped, losing her uncle and then almost losing both her and Court has been tough. On all of them.
Tenderly, Y/N runs her finger along the scar on her abdomen. The scar left on her by Lloyd Hansen, who still haunts her nightmares to this day. Even though he’s been dead for at least a month now, she’s still terrified of him somehow coming back and finding them again. And especially finishing the job he started. Sometimes, Y/N swears she hears his laugh or his voice when nobody is there. Even though Six always checks each lock before they go to bed, Y/N’s still terrified. Lloyd Hansen infiltrated and corrupted every aspect of their safe, happy lives. And he’s still doing it now, even in death. Like some sort of boogeyman.
“Morning.” Court’s voice sounds as he walks into the room, cutting through her thoughts. Y/N breathes a small sigh of relief. It’s over. It’s just the three of us. Just focus on the good times. He takes her into his arms, gently pecking her on the lips. “You alright?” He whispers, noticing the fear in her expression. Y/N nods. “Y/N….” He trails off, but she shakes her head.
“Not here. I’m okay. Promise.” She murmurs. Reluctantly, Court nods, and the pair sits down with Claire to eat.
“I know what you’re both gonna say….” Claire says suddenly, and Y/N and Court raise a brow. “But I was wondering if we could go see a movie? Instead of being stuck in the house?” Seeing the look on their faces, she sighs. “Or not.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just not safe yet.” Court sighs as Y/N reaches over to take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. Despite her obvious disappointment, Claire fixes a smile on her face, and she nods. Y/N feels her heart breaking. She’d love more than anything to say yes, and for the three of them to spend a day together doing normal family things. But it’s just not possible. Especially since the CIA and everyone else Court pissed off are still hunting them. Being on the run and hiding are the only things that can keep them safe.
Still, it’s not fair to Claire to be stuck inside, wasting her days in case someone spots them. If Y/N could, she’d take it all away from her and just give her a normal life. Her trauma, her condition, everything. All gone.
If only life worked like that.
“Thanks for breakfast. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Claire murmurs, pushing her chair out and leaving the room.
“Poor kid.” Y/N sighs as she watches her go. “I wish we could do something.”
“Actually.” Court muses. “I think we can.” Quickly, he gets up, pressing another kiss to her temple. “I have some things to do.” Before she can even ask what he means, or if he wants her to help, he’s gone, and Y/N is left alone at the table, frowning.
What the hell is he planning?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Claire, sweetheart, are you okay?” Y/N asks a few hours later, knocking on her door. It’s been a while since she went inside and shut her door, and even though she can still hear her records playing, Y/N is getting worried. It’s not like her to be so quiet. “Do you want something to eat? A drink?” No further noise sounds, and Y/N’s heart rate increases as she panics that something bad has happened. Yet, just before she’s about to call Court to break the door down, it opens, and Claire’s head pops out. The red rim around her eyes shows she’s been crying, and Y/N’s heart sinks. “Oh, love.” She soothes, opening her arms out for Claire to come in for a hug, which she does.
“I’m sorry.” She murmurs into Y/N’s sweater, making Y/N’s heart break all over again. It’s not her fault. None of this is. “I’ve just been missing my uncle a lot recently, and with everything that’s happened-” Another sob sounds, and Claire squeezes Y/N a little tighter.
“Sweetheart, it's not your fault. Six and I understand. It’s awful being stuck in here all the time.” Y/N tells her, gently stroking her hair. “But I promise you, we love you very much, and we will always protect you.”
“I love you too.” She replies, and Y/N almost starts crying at that. The girls stay cuddled together for a while, until Court’s voice sounds.
“Hey, what’s-” Without another word, Claire detaches herself from Y/N, and immediately tackles him in a hug, knocking him off guard slightly. Court looks up at Y/N, and when he sees the tears in her eyes, he understands. “Oh.” He murmurs. Wrapping one arm around Claire, he opens his other one, which Y/N cuddles into. The trio stay there for a while, safe in each other’s embrace. “I have a surprise for you.” Court says after a while. “Follow me.” He gestures down the hallway, and the girls do as he asks. He leads them towards the living room, and they gasp when they see what he’s done.
Fairy lights stretch across the room, illuminating it with their soft glow. Blankets and cushions lay across the couch, and bowls of snacks and ice cream sit on the coffee table. A movie, no doubt Claire’s favourite, is set up on the TV. “I know it’s not exactly the same as the movie theatre, but I hope it’s just as good.” A warm feeling, one of love, fills Y/N’s entire body. They’re so lucky to have him.
“Thank you!” Claire squeals, giving Court another squeeze before running over to the couch and burying herself under the blankets. Y/N squeezes Court’s hand.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” She whispers, and he smiles.
“Just for you two.” He kisses her softly, and she moans happily, melting into his embrace once more.
“Guys, come on! The movie is about to start!” Claire’s voice sounds, and Y/N and Court break apart, laughing. They join her under the blanket, and all three snuggle in together as the movie plays. In their brief time together, the three have been through a lot, and there’s undoubtedly more to come. Yet, moments like this, spent together and as a family show that maybe things will be alright after all.
As long as they’re together.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
This is just a reminder that I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on my notifications to be notified when I next post.
#sierra six x reader#sierra six x you#sierra six x y/n#sierra six#court gentry x reader#court gentry x you#court gentry x y/n#court gentry#the gray man#the gray man fanfic#the gray man spoilers#the gray man fanfiction
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. 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒚 𝒐 𝒖 𝒇 𝒐 𝒖 𝒏 𝒅 𝒎 𝒆 ☾ ⊹ ࣪ ˖
Court Gentry x reader
787 words. Unedited. If I do I’ll stress out
Creepy men following you, but court saves you, violence
Other Writings
“Hey baby” the man across the street with his friends says. You know he’s talking to you because there’s no one left for him to greet.
You don’t react besides grabbing your pepper spray in your purse. When you pass the group and reach the next light on the sidewalk you think you’re now safe, until you hear the multiple footsteps behind you.
“Come on sweetheart, no smile for me?” The man grabs your arm that’s holding the pepper spray. You can’t use it on him, even if you tried he’s already overpowering you. He won’t let you take another step, risk of falling otherwise.
“Let go—” Your voice is soft and weak. You clear your throat and try again. “Let go of me.”
“Aw” the man coos, his friends laugh. “M’sorry baby, I just couldn’t help myself.” He lets go but now five men are all around you.
Your hand tightens on the can. You know you will only be able to spray one man before you get restrained, and then it’ll only be up to how good you fight.
In the middle of you trying to figure out which man you should pick to pepper spray, there’s another set of footsteps farther away.
There’s a blonde man turning the corner and limping, he seems to be surprised there are other people outside at the time when he sees you and the men around.
His hand is on his side and he grunts. You don’t know if he’s in pain or if he’s annoyed, but he slows down as he gets closer and looks at the way you’ve been backed into the side of a car.
“Everything okay here?” He looks from one man to the next, and then you at last. He raises his eyebrows and you know the question was meant for you.
The men that had followed you are all looking at the new comer so you take you chance and shake your head delicately. Thankfully none of them noticed your action.
“Yeah, we’re good” one man verbalizes and steps in front of you.
“Okay” your possible savior sighs and stands straighter “we’re doing this.”
In a flash, the blonde man the has the one closest to him on the ground before he moves onto the next one. He punches once to the man’s face and then another one to ribs.
The other men begin to kick into action. One attacks the blonde man from behind. He attempts to use a choke hold, but the blonde man while his second victim is bent over and fighting for breath, grabs the wrist of his new attacker in both hands. He pushes the body part in different directions and then twists. There’s a snap and a scream and then the injured man retreats to the sidelines.
The second man regains his breath and steps back up to the blonde man with his fists back up.
The blonde huffs and grabs the opponent’s left elbow and spins him so he faces his back. He swings his arm around and hits the man’s temple. He crumbles but he is quickly replaced by a fourth man.
He gives a better fight than the men before him, but it’s still no match. Some punches are exchanged before the blonde wrestles him into a choke hold like the other man had tried to do.
That’s when the fifth man, the one who had been propositioning you, attacks.
He’s had a knife the whole time and now points it into your savior’s arm that is wrapped around the other man’s neck.
He opens his mouth for a threat, but you decide it’s time you help. You rush behind the man with the knife and with you pull your hand from you purse. It is still wrapped around the can of pepper spray. You copy the way the man had incapacitated the second victim and bring the can down onto the man’s temple with force.
He falls the same time his friend does from the loss of air, unconscious.
You swallow and take in all the men passed out, except for the man who is holding his wrist. He’s already running away from the scene.
“That’s not for me, is it?”
You look back to the blonde man when he interrupts your thoughts. He gestures to the pepper spray in your hand and you realize this is his attempt to relax you from the situation.
You shake your head and drop it back into your purse. “Thank you”
He shakes his head as if he did not take on five men to help you.
He takes one step but keeps his eyes on you. He’s still limping. “Can I walk you home?”
:::::::
In my head Six was just walking back from a more higher stakes fight when he sees you. The second fight is easy for him but he’s just annoyed lol
Maybe I’ll write a smutty part two?
#six x reader#sierra six#court gentry x reader#court gentry#the gray man#sierra six x you#court gentry x you#ryan gosling#my writing
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bestie I’m feeling like Lloyd and Six fighting over reader but in a smutty way you know??? please??😩😍
All writings will be #writing-wh0re-requests
Pairing: Sierra Six - Court Gentry x reader / Lloyd Hansen x Reader (kind of)
Word Count: 2310k
Warnings: Smut 18+, Explicit Language, Slight Praise Kink, Vaginal Intercourse, Unprotected Sex, Angst(?), Jealousy, Semi Public Car Sex.
A/N: I'm kinda back, kinda not. Sorry my posting has 0 schedule and is super random, but I hope you love this!
As a kid I never thought about a life where I would have to live mission to mission and in dodgy hotel rooms.
But it’s just how my life ended up.
“Miss, your drink.”
I snap out of my thoughts, looking up at the bartender as I smile, grabbing the drink from his grasp.
I look around the room discreetly locking eyes with Lloyd Hansen, his eyes racking up my body taking in how the red silk hugs my figure.
I raise the glass to my lips, flicking my eyes away from Lloyd.
“I’ve got his attention.” I whisper against my glass, flicking my eyes around the room looking for Sierra six.
‘Good girl.’ Butterflies erupt inside of me at the praise.
“I couldn’t help but notice you’re all alone.” His voice is raspier than I expected, a tingle running up my spine, oh no.
I smile at Lloyd, quickly downing my drink causing him to raise an eyebrow.
“Bartender! Another for the lady.” Lloyd says holding up my empty glass.
“You dont have to do that.”
“I insist.” Lloyd whispers looking me up and down.
Blush heats up my face, my mind fighting against itself.
‘Is that blush I see?’ Court’s voice whispers in my ear as I feel my mouth go dry.
“What’s a man like you doing in a place like this?”
Lloyd chuckles, his head falling back slightly.
The bartender places my drink down in front of me, tipping his head toward me before rushing to other paterons.
“I find it hard to believe you don’t know who I am.”
I raise an eyebrow as I sip my drink.
‘Be careful.’ Court whispers as Lloyd looks over in Court’s direction, Court’s seat now empty. I release a breath, thankful for his disappearance.
Lloyd leans in closer to me, his lips against my ear.
“It’s easy to spot a Sierra, especially when there’s two.”
‘Bathroom.’ Court whispers.
“I’m sorry?” I was shocked.
Lloyd licks his lips, a wicked smirk on his face.
“Dumb doesn’t look good on you.”
“Excuse me.”
I slip off the bar stool quickly rushing away from Lloyd, feeling his presence behind me.
“Six, where are you?” I whisper, rushing down the hallway to the bathrooms.
I look behind me, my stomach dropping at the sight of Lloyd pushing through the crowd.
My body runs into something, rather someone. His cologne hits me before I look up, my body relaxing against him.
Court’s eyes quickly looked over me, studying me as if Lloyd had hurt me.
Lloyd chuckles, his hands resting behind his back, eyes dark.
“Sierra Six, or should I call you by your real name?”
Court’s grip on my hip tightens as he pushes me behind him slightly. Does he seriously forget that I’m an assassin?
Court scoffs rolling his eyes, his hold never loosening on my body.
“Why don’t we keep this civil?” Court suggests, his eyes looking past Lloyd at the general public.
“Please, I know you both love to put on a show.”
My eyebrows knit together, Court’s jaw tightening.
“Oh no no.” Lloyd chuckles, leaning against the nearby wall. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”
I open and close my mouth to object, but Lloyd cuts me off.
“Two nights ago, you both decided you were fed up with pretending to ignore your feelings and fuck on the balcony.” Lloyd winks at me as I hide behind Court a little more.
“You sound delicious by the way babygirl.”
“Enough.”
Lloyd raises an eyebrow chuckling.
“You were the ones putting on a show.” Lloyd states putting his hands up in defence.
“Plus, what kind of name is Court?”
I watch Court’s whole body tense at the mention of his name on Lloyds tongue.
‘If we leave he will follow.’ I whisper, knowing Court can hear me through the earpiece.
“Go.” Court whispers, pushing me away.
I stumble slightly, looking between the two men before turning and running away.
“C’mon now! Don’t tease me!” Lloyd shouts before the sound of fists hitting skin and grunting fills the hallway.
The hallway bends to the right, the green exit sign flicking above.
“Six!”
‘Go…. without….. Me’ The earpiece crackles, hearing hit after hit.
I jiggle the handle, it is not budging. I scoff before falling to my knees and picking the lock.
Click the sound is music to my ears and racing heart as I pull the door open.
“No.. no no no.” I chant, the door opening to a brick wall. “How is this regulation?” I mumble.
“Oh Y/n!” Lloyd yells in a singsong voice. My heart pounds in my chest, butterflies filling my stomach.
If he wasn’t such a physco, he would be a total catch.
I look around the hallway hoping for another door or window, anything.
“Hi baby.”
“Fuck.”
I look over at Lloyd, his eyes looking me up and down.
“I can’t believe you went for him.”
“C’mon six.” I whisper.
“Six won’t be joining us.” My heart sinks, Lloyd has to be bluffing.
I quickly trace my eyes over Lloyd’s body, his arms almost bulging out of his shirt, blood stains across his strong abdomen and his pants tight against his thighs.
I mentally slap myself, stop checking out the enemy, he is literally a psychopath.
Lloyd strides towards me, causing me to back away from him. I brush my hand against my leg attempting to feel for my knife. My stomach drops, the emptiness of my thigh holster causing a panic to set over me. My eyes fall on the black and silver blade in the middle of the hallway.
“Y/n!” Court calls, my heart leaping in my chest. Lloyd turns his back slightly, looking towards Court. Before I can think I’m running down the hallway towards him, stupidly.
Lloyd grabs a hold of my waist, pulling me off the ground and against his hard chest. I thrash around, elbowing him in the shoulder as his grip loosens. I wiggle out of his grip, slapping him across the face and pushing him backwards. I turn to run towards Court with zero luck as Lloyd trips me, my body hitting the hard floor, my lungs struggling for air.
“Not so fast Princess.”
“You’ve got a hard hit, I’ll give you that.”
Heavy footsteps thud against the ground as Court rounds the corner.
Lloyd pulls me against his body. His hand resting just below my boobs, his thigh against my ass.
“God, you smell incredible.” Lloyd whispers, his lips against my ear.
I keep my eyes trained on Court, studying his every move, trying to figure out his plan.
“You’re a selfish son of a bitch, you know that?” Lloyd chuckles, his chest rumbling against my back.
Court cracks his neck, walking towards us as Lloyd pulls me further against him.
“C’mon now, you can’t send her in here and expect me to just let her go.”
“Lloyd.” I whimper, his grip on my body deathly tight.
His hand wanders up my chest, brushing against my boobs as my nipples prick up at the sudden touch, it doesn’t go unnoticed. Lloyd’s hand settles around my throat, pulling me more against him.
“Court.” I whimper, Lloyd’s grip tightening.
“That’s a little insulting baby, my hands on you and another man's name on your lips.”
“Lloyd.” Court warns.
Lloyd chuckles, his lips brushing against my neck, small kisses being placed on my warm skin.
Oh fuck, this shouldn’t feel good.
My lips part, eyes fluttering shut.
“Fuck.” I whisper, my body tingling at his touch. The whole scenario caused a buzz to fill me.
“Good girl.” Lloyd whispers, his hand moving from my neck to grope my boob.
“Y/n.” Court whispers, the earpiece causing his voice to ring through my brain.
My eyes snap open, focusing on the man in front of me rather than on me.
God this is wrong, so so so wrong. But so fucking good.
Lloyd pulls away from me, his eyes locking onto Court.
Lloyd drops his weapon at Court’s feet, guiding my body over to the nearby wall and caging me against him.
“I’m sure you can share Six.” Lloyd winks, his hands on my skin.
“Stop, Y/n doesn’t want this.”
Lloyd chuckles, looking into my eyes as my lips part, looking between him and Court.
“Y/n know’s how to stop me.” Lloyd states, his eyes looking over towards my knife on the floor, knowing full well I could swing this and stab him.
“This is so wrong.” I mumble, Lloyd’s lips brushing against mine.
“Then stop me.” He whispers, his lips crashing against mine. His moustache scratched against my skin softly. I melt into the kiss, my hands falling to his shoulders.
Lloyd moans against my lips, I open my eyes and look towards Court, winking at him as he shakes his head.
Court pulls Lloyd off my body, replacing him with his own.
His lips on my neck.
“This better be a part of your plan.” Court whispers against my skin.
“Grab my knife.” I whisper, kissing Court as he chuckles.
“You really aren’t someone who share’s are you?” Lloyd mocks.
Court pulls away from me, gesturing for Lloyd to take his place.
Lloyd smirks, stalking towards me as his lips latch onto mine. I run my hands up and down Lloyd’s chest, before feeling his body go limp against me, a groan filling the air.
Court used the butt on my knife against Lloyd’s head. Before digging the knife into Lloyd’s shoulder.
“You….cunt..” Lloyd groans, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“Go before he wakes up.” Court instructs as I usher out of the hallway. I quickly fix my appearance before walking into the crowd of people, the music thumping louder than before. I push my way through, walking outside as Court stands beside me, a black SUV pulling up in front of us.
“Get in.”
I smile weakly, climbing into the car and pulling out my ear piece.
“You took it too far.”
“Did it make you jealous?” I tease, causing Court to tense, looking out of the window.
“What did you expect me to do? He had us cornered, you were down and my knife was missing.”
“You didn’t need to throw yourself at him.”
“It let his guard down!”
Court scoffs, shaking his head.
“And yours.”
“So you’re mad at me for improvising and getting us out of there?”
Court shakes his head, his jaw clenching. His hand wraps around my throat, pinning me against the seat.
“I'm mad that you liked it.”
“Then help me forget him.”
Court’s eyes flick from mine to my lips. He locks the two way window between us and the driver, his lips locking with mine.
His tongue parts my lips, his tongue tracing mine as his hands run up my body.
“God.” He mumbles, his fingers pinching my nipples, his mouth muffling my moans.
“Court please.” I wiggle my hips up, his hand caressing down my body, cupping my pussy.
“You’re dripping.”
I bite my lips, tossing up whether or not to tease him.
“Lloyd’s doing.”
Court grunts, his hand slapping my drenched pussy.
“Don’t be a slut.”
His fingers slip past my panties, circling my clit extremely slow causing my eyes to flutter shut.
“Please.”
Court sucks his mark into my skin, his teeth grazing against me.
“Use your words.”
“Court, fuck me.” I whimper, grinding up against his fingers.
“Do you deserve it?”
“Court.” I moan, my head falling back against the seat.
The sound of his belt buckle fills the air, his hands fumbling with his pants as I pull my underwear down my legs. I push him back against the seat, straddling his lap.
The car slows down, turning a corner as Court holds me against him, his cock brushing against my swollen clit.
He runs his cock up and down my slit, collecting my wetness before stretching me out.
“Fuck.” We both moan in unison.
Our eyes lock together as I move my hips slowly, his fingers slipping my dress down my body, my boobs falling out of the silk.
His lips wrap around my nipple, biting at the hardened bud.
I run my fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands as his hips meet mine. The rhythm of the car moving and our hips rocking together creates the perfect motion.
My toes curl at the pleasure flowing through me, the sounds falling from Court’s lips causing butterflies to fill my stomach.
Court’s hand’s move to my ass, guiding my hips to chase his high.
"So good Court."
"Better than him." Court groans as I nod.
“Say it.”
“Better than Lloyd.”
The confirmation causes Court to pick up his pace, fucking up into me faster causing my rythem to falter.
“Right there!”
Court’s fingers pinch my clit, rubbing it in fast circles.
“Fuck yes, don’t stop.”
“You’re so tight.”
My pussy clenches around Court’s cock, our lips locking together as I fall apart, cumming around his dick.
Court lifts my dress, watching his cock slip in and out of me, the passing street lights showing my cum glistening against his skin.
“Fuck baby.” Court moans, his cock twitching inside of me, hot ropes of cum filling me.
I pull Court closer to me, our lips locking together, savouring the moment.
“I won’t kiss Lloyd again.”
Court smirks, chuckling.
“If I can stab him again, then I encourage it.”
The car comes to a stop causing both of us to rush to put ourselves back together.
Once dressed, Court rolls down the two way window, tipping the driver who shakes his head.
“Fitzroy is calling.”
“Good luck explaining it.” I wink, getting out of the car and walking in front of Court, turning back and blowing him a kiss as he smiles.
Maybe mission to mission and dodgy hotels isn’t such a bad thing.
\\//
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I thought I was the only one who wanted Six, Navy! Choke me and fuck me hard.
You're not the only one, nonnie!
But his hand around your throat would feel good, wouldn't it? Squeezing just enough to remind you of his strength as you stretch tightly around his cock. He could crush you beneath his fingers, but all you experience is bliss as your slick folds welcome him in.
You're loud when he isn't. He's never loud. You prefer his harsh whispers anyway when it feels like too much.
"Shh. This is what you wanted, so take it. Don't fight it. Good girl."
For good measure, his fingers grip a little tighter.
He'll draw more than one orgasm out of you.
All he has to do is squeeze.
Love and thanks! ❤️
#navybrat answers#fuel for thots#sierra six#sierra six x reader#sierra six x you#i don't know how this happened#but here we are#anon ask#sending love ❤️#asks are always appreciated#court gentry#court gentry x reader#court gentry x you
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Far away | Sierra Six x F!Reader
Summary: After being away for so long, Six wants to appreciate you
Paring: Sierra Six (Court Gentry) x F! Reader
Word count: 1544
Rating: Mature, 18 + Only, AU, smut, angst
A/N: Ummm omg thank you to everyone who liked the first one I did. I decided to write another to heal my heart. I hope you like it!!!
Dedicated to all my Sierra Six, Ryan Gosling lovers
The apartment was colder than usual. Missing the heat from your fireplace but also missing the source of comfort you had come to be used to, your lover. The couch you sat on felt more like your friends, not truly yours. He had bought the couch of course so sitting there felt like the closest you were going to get to him for now. He had left in the middle of the night. His phone, keys, wallet, and even one of the spare gun you know he keeps in the closet was missing. You didn’t try to call, unsure of how safe it would be to do that. Even now you wished you could call, just to hear his voice again after a month of him being gone. You knew he would come back, how could he not he did marry you?
The two of you had met while he was on a mission. You however were in Paris on a holiday just soaking up the weather of Europe, as well as the pastry smells. You couldn’t remember what cover story he had told you at the time, only that he was strikingly handsome. The two of you sat at that cafe in Paris for what felt like hours. You were the one that talked most of the time, letting him use the few words he seemed to have when you asked for his opinion or thoughts. While he was a man of few words he did strike you as the time to do other things instead of using talking.
When the two of you had met back up in the States he took you on a date, a picnic. At first, you thought it funny, a man like him taking you out to eat on a picnic, but now that you knew what he did for a living you understood the hesitancy to take you on a real date in public. These dates happened a lot, him surprising you at your door only to take you out for a picnic with a home-cooked meal he made.
Thinking back on the small meetings and the glances between the two of you helped the coldness of your heart settle. As the coffee in your hand warmed your stomach the rest of the house stayed cold. You didn't feel the need to turn on the fireplace, that was his thing to do. Weeks of him being away felt like too long. He often left for jobs but would return within a week or two, pampering you with kisses telling you how much he missed you or missed seeing you under him. Now, those words felt like ice, chilling your heart even more.
The locks clicked. You glanced over at the door. The lights were off, only the lamp beside you shed any light into the glim apartment. There in the doorway stood your husband, ring glistening from the chain around his neck. You didn’t move, not at first. The light from the apartment hallway cast his shadow into the dimly lit home, you wanted it to be real, see his face and not just a shadow. For a moment you thought it was just your mind until the door shut, bags were dropped and he slowly walked over to you. The light finally caught on his face and seeing the different healing scratches and bruises made you burst into tears. Six stumbled over to you catching you in his arms.
“Hunny?” He asked the softness of his voice rang through the apartment. Warmth suddenly filled the home you had been housed inside for a month. His hands combed through your hair. The tattoo on his hand caught your attention, drawing you out from inside your mind.
“You left,” You said matter-factly. He nodded his head.
“I didn’t want to, but they called in the middle of the night,” He told you, his other hand moving over his face, a nervous habit he had picked up.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” The hurt in your voice was ever apparent to your crouching husband who only wanted to see you smile again. He was gone a month, having finished the job only a few days prior but wanted to make sure he didn’t have a tail when he did head home.
“Didn’t want to scare you”
“Scare me? Baby, it was scarier waking up knowing you went out there to kill someone or hijack some other mission, without a word or note saying sorry or I love you or be back soon..” Your rambled face was clearly distressed by the action your husband had caused, “Court you promised when we got married you would stop lying to me about what you do. I'm happy I know, makes me sleep better, but leaving without a word…that…I haven't been able to move”
“I’m sorry Hunny, I’m so sorry,” He said putting his hands around your waist and his head lending in your lap, he hugged your middle. Court Gentry did not cry, but here he was melting into your touch wishing he could. “Hunny I wanted to call but if they traced it and someone found you…I would never forgive myself”
“No one has found us, me, yet,” You told your husband, trying to calm the nerves you knew he must feel. He always had been protective, even before you got married.
“What if they do?” He asks, looking up at you with tired eyes. You brushed your hand through his dirty blond hair, wanting to pull him in.
“Then we figure it out together” Yous supplied. “Come on baby let's get you cleaned up” pulling the tired man up from the living room floor. You pulled him twords your shared bedroom and to the adjacent bathroom. After pulling off his clothes, and your’s well, you stepped under the stream letting the heat from the water warm you. When Court was finally inside the shower you grabbed his hand towel and coated it in soap and washed his body for him. Every flex of his mussel you could feel from under the rag, made your core heat up. Court noticed your look, the one of pure lust. You both had missed each other for too long and prolonging the inevitable was never his thing. His hands found your waist, rubbing circles into them. You shutter under his touch, the towel now forgotten on the shower floor. His hands roamed your body making you shutter even more under his touch. Court Gentry would do anything to make you feel good, and that was his mission tonight. He wanted you to feel how much he loved you, missed you.
All thoughts went out the window the minute Court’s hands were on you. The roughness of his palms sliding over your smooth skin, the heat of the water falling off your back. His hands pushed you back against the tile of the shower wall, coxing your body to mold under his touch. You could feel your back arching into his hands, wanting more of him. His hands did their job, coxing your body to let out a moan. He knew all he had to do, was get you all wet and ready for him. He left you up, straddling his waist still up against the shower wall. His hands fingered your core, sending shock waves through your system. Straggled moans and his name left your lips, still wanting more. When you were ready, he finally filled you up letting your headrest agents the wall before his slow movements started. He went slow at first letting you take him in, then his pace quickened letting your orgasm come crashing over you. When the first one hit, Six didn't stop, no he wanted you to feel everything, and that meant to ride you out till you couldn’t orgasm again. Every missed moan, touch, and orgasm had Six reeling at that moment, wanting to wash away the sweat of the job with just you. You became his relief, finally knowing he was home. As your second orgasm came crashing over, so did his, filling you up inside and letting the sounds of your mouth fill his heart. The kisses he left on your body would stay there for a while, hoping they would never leave our skin. You wanted a constant reminder of him, whether that was on your skin, or inside. The two of you road yourselves out till the moans turned into struggled cries. He knew you were done, exhausted from the ride he gave you. He let you down, letting the hot water wash away the rest of his liquid. Once out of the shower he dried you off, taking special care of his girl. You loved it, watching him take care of you as you struggled to stand. He whisked you off after, throwing one of his shirts on you and tucking you into bed, sleep caught up to you as his now clothed self snuggled into your side.
“I love you forever, however far away I am” Court muttered into your ear. It was distant when you heard it, but that one thing allowed you to feel safe again and curled up into him to sleep for an eternity.
A/N:
(Please let me know if you want to be added to a tag list when I post)
Thank you for sending such a kind message!! I don't know if I would have written more if not for you so Thank you!!! 💚 @blackberries45
#sierra six x reader#sierra six#i am so in love with six its not even funny#sierra six x you#the grey man#the grey man fan fiction#court gentry x you#court gentry x reader#court gentry imagine#court gentry
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