#court gentry imagine

[hederasgarden]

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.

Join my tag list here.

[navybrat817]

Six makes me think so many dirty and wild thoughts🥵

type fucking after a fight because of jealousy

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

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

Because you do belong to him.

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

"Or what?!"

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

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

*****

Maybe something like that, nonnie?

Oops. What did I do? 😇

Love and thanks! ❤️

[renren-006]

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)

[myboipracticallyimagines]

Rescue Pt. 2 - Six x Reader

Part 1

Prompt: After Six saves you from Lloyd, he's charged with an even greater task - keeping you safe. (A/N: Reader is definitely an adult in this story, just fyi)

Once the lights of the city faded behind you, you allowed yourself to cry. Silent tears ran down your cheeks as you mourned the man that was in every way that mattered - your father. If Six had noticed your tears he was kind enough to give you privacy. His eyes remained locked on the horizon, one hand gripped tightly on the wheel and the other sitting comfortably above his gun.

"Where are we going?" Claire asked, her voice barely carrying over the crashing of the water. "Somewhere safe," Six responded. "This is my stop," the woman in the back spoke. Six obliged her command, pulling the boat as close to the surface as he dared before the woman jumped over, quickly emerging and swimming to shore. "Who was that?" you finally asked. "A friend of mine. Her name is Dani. She was the one who shot Lloyd." Your heart fluttered at the mention of his name, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "I should have thanked her." "We'll see her again. For now the only person I trust both of you with is myself."

You were only on the boat a little longer after dropping of Dani. You quickly transferred into a car, where Six drove into the morning. The sun sat high in the sky by the time you made it to your final destination - a manor in the hills. "What is this?" you asked, looking over the pristine exterior of the house. "It's yours. Donald left it for both you - completely off the books." "So no one knows we'll be here?" Claire asks. Six smiled down at her. "Not a soul."

Taking no chances, Six cleared the house before you entered. Upon his word, he showed you around the house. It was huge, with more than enough room for each of you. "Your uncle wanted you to be comfortable here. He hoped to move you here once everything calmed down," Six's voice caught, which he tried to cover with a clear of his throat. "Your bedrooms are down the hall."

It was clear that Fitz had been working on this safehouse for a while. Our rooms were almost exact copies of our original bedrooms, down to the bedding. He even took the liberty to stock the drawers with a few sets of clothes. It broke your heart that he even considered a possibility of you moving here with nothing but the clothes on your back. Still, you were grateful for the soft pajamas in the top drawer.

A soft knock on your drawer drew you back to reality. "Go ahead and clean up. I'm going to make sure all the security systems are fully functioning. I'll be right in the kitchen if you need me." "Thank you," you breathed.

The warm water of the shower shocked your cuts and burns, eliciting a small yelp. Typically, long showers were your favorite way to unwind. Today, however, you washed off quickly, taking extra care to clean your wounds. Each sting of the water brought memories of Lloyd - his dark eyes burnt into your memory.

You dressed quickly before going to the kitchen. Six sat at the table, reviewing the video from dozens of cameras surrounding the property. He sensed your presence immediately, giving you his full attention. Six quickly closed the distance between you, examining your face. "Does it still hurt?" he asked gently. "Just the burn," you admitted. "I figured," he spoke quietly, his fingers still lingering. "Let's get you fixed up." His hand settled on your back as he led you towards a bedroom you hadn't been in before.

"This is my room," he said, sensing your curiosity. "I don't know what I did to deserve Donald, but it definitely wasn't enough." "He trusted you more than anyone on this planet," you said as you sat on the plush bed. "He really cared about you, Six. We all do." Your voice wavered with the last three words, avoiding his eyes.

Six didn't respond, instead turning his full attention to your burn. He rubbed a cooling salve onto it, taking care not to press too hard. Still, his touch alone brought tears to your eyes. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "It's not your fault," you assured him. "It is. I never should have left." "Six, I-" you started, but he cut you off. "Court. My name is Court."

You finally met the man's eyes, red and puffy. "I don't want to hide anymore. I don't want to be a number they assigned me. I'm not just a pawn anymore." You stood, still not as tall as the man standing before you. Instinct took over, and you wrapped your arms tightly around his strong frame. "You were never just a number, Court." It took him a moment, but he finally embraced back, his body fully encapsulating yours. When he pulled away, he cupped the uninjured side of your face, thumb gently caressing your cheek. "On my life, I will never let anyone hurt you again." "I know you won't. Our lives are in your hands, Court. And there is no place they'd be safer." He smiled gently. "Get some sleep."

Nightmares drew you from your rest, each one a new torture Lloyd was able to inflict on you. The last was particularly gruesome, with Lloyd making you watch as he slowly killed Court. You screamed for him to stop, to hurt you instead, but Lloyd only laughed before returning to his sick torture.

Suddenly, you shot up, awake. You drew in a sharp gasp, realizing that you were safe at home. Court sat before you, scanning you for injuries. "Are you okay?" he asked quickly. "I heard you scream." You clutched onto him tightly, nodding your head. "Nightmare," you choked out.

Court's body relaxed, releasing a long breath. "Sorry. I thought something happened to you." You laughed slightly. "Only in my dreams." "Well, I'll let you get back to sleep," he said, standing. You quickly grabbed his arm. "Stay with me," you begged. He hesitated. "You need rest, too. Claire is just next door and we will all be much safer if you're well-rested." Court sighed deeply. "Okay."

He kicked off his shoes and removed his suit jacket before climbing into your bed. You must have gotten a few hours of rest as the sun had darkened and he had had time to clean up. His blue eyes stared deeply into yours as he lay across from you. Even as he rested, he looked tense. "Court?" you asked. He hummed in response. "I want you to know that Claire isn't the only family I have left. Not as long as I have you." "I'm not going anywhere," he assured you. "In the time I've stayed with you, I've grown fond of your family." He paused. "Especially you." Your heart fluttered, though this time not from fear. "I'm fond of you, too. Court, I," you paused, your cheeks flushing. "Go on," he urges, gently raising your chin to meet him in the eyes again. "I love you." Court takes a shaky breath in. "It's been a while since someone said those words to me." "I mean them, with every bit of myself." "I love you," he whispered back. Then a bit stronger, "I love you."

This time, you closed the space, pressing your lips gently onto his. He held you flush to him, his grip tighter than you had ever felt it before. Electricity pulsed through your veins, every part of you wanting to be connected to him. Court's touch was rougher than before, each passing second bliss within his hands.

Your hands reached for the hem of his shirt, but his hand caught yours first. "Not tonight," he said breathlessly. You blushed fiercely, but he drew your eyes to his again. "Not because I don't want to, but because you need rest." You nodded, relaxing into his strong frame. As he held you close, you finally drifted off into sleep. This time, no nightmares interrupted.

[oreosmilkshakes]

Just a Mask

Pairing: Court ‘Six’ Gentry x reader

Fandom: The Gray Man

Word Count: 2,586

Warnings: Bad writing, horribly translated Japanese and Tagalog ( I deeply apologise), minor violence,

A/N: Here is my contribution to this fandom :D Terrible writing, really went off track but oh well. Enjoy and comments are appreciated! :D

Taglist: NIL

--------------------------------------------

Obedience was never [Name]’s strongest suit. In fact, obedience was never a part of her. Not even when her life was in the greatest danger. Her parents didn’t exactly care, so why should she? For the past few years of her life, she had been moving around the world, staying at so many houses. None lasted long and the reason Chichi gave was that Haha wanted to see the world.

Bulllllshit

[Name] knew there was more than what the eye could see but never bothered to listen. Her most recent residence was the Philippines and she was alone. The best part was that she was finally alone with her parents in another country. There was also a ‘bodyguard’. Notice the air quotes? He was more of a pest than a bodyguard. ‘[Name], you can’t do this,” ‘ or ‘[Name], you can’t do that,” ‘. All because she could be in potential danger at every turn or whatever bullshit that was, [Name] didn’t bother to listen to her father’s warnings.

Six stood obediently in the corner, surveying eyes scanning the large windows for any signs of danger. [Name] squinted her own eyes, trying to read him. But just like the past hundred tries, it was useless. Six almost never talked. The way he talked was through his actions and even if [Name] tried to initiate a conversation, it was nothing more than one or two words. Eventually, she gave up. At first, Six knew just how much of a trouble she was. The sneaking out, the over-partying and over-drinking, the disobedience. Oh, that got Six worked up. He despised disobedience and several times, he wanted to put [Name] in her place, to force her to abandon that bratty nature and for once, listen to him.

It did come with perks though, inclusive of the money. He would find gifts in his room, supposedly from [Name]. It came in many forms. A new jacket, some shirts or a cheeky little good luck charm. He also would take note of the times he and [Name] had a proper conversation and her body language told him so, so many things. Six knew the signs but chose to ignore it for the sake of his job.

However, that was almost a year ago. The pay grew and so did [Name] on Six. Although her bratty nature stayed, he did notice a slight change over the past year.

[Name] threw a piece of unopened gum to Six, who caught it on reflex. “Got you the watermelon one and don’t worry, nothing happened while I was at the konbini,” She sent a wink his way. The corner of his mouth curled into a smile.

“Good to know you always remembered,” And he took note of the redden ears and dusty pink cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m heading off to bed. Oyasumi, shik-su,” (Goodnight, Six)

[Name] gave him a lazy wave, shutting the door behind her. Court scoffed lightly, fingers fiddled with the aluminium wrapper. He was careful to unwrap the gum, the burst flavour of watermelon coated his tongue at the first chew as he folded the wrapper and stuck it in his trouser pocket. Six got to his nightly routine with a flashlight in hand and a hidden knife strapped to his waist.  

Meanwhile, [Name] was on her chair, attention fixated to her phone with thumbs moving across the lower half of the screen.

[Name]: Party tonight at The Sin?

[Kai]: Hell yeah!

[Jasmine]: I’m totally for it

[Name] didn’t waste any time, getting dressed in her best clothes. The planning and the dressing was the easy part. But sneaking out? She knew every little noise she made would grab Six’s attention. So, she had one chance to get this right.

Looking up, there was an upper window that led to freedom. It would be a squeeze but she could do it. Grabbing her vanity chair, it was placed against her book rack. With focused eyes and a habitual tongue out, [Name] climbed her chair, using the shelving of the book rack to push herself up. She stuck her head out first, shimmying out the window as quietly as she could. However, she failed to plan how she was going to land so the next best thing, forcibly, was the bushes.

Swallowing, [Name] squeezed her eyes shut and fell to the bush. The leaves rustled harshly and she had minimal time to escape. Scrambling to her feet, [Name] ran towards the outer wall, climbing over and dropping to the ground, narrowly missing the ray of light pointing in her direction. She smiled, running away from the danger of her own home and towards her motorbike.

The Sin was one of the few best clubs in the Philippines. The loud bass rang in her ears, the smell of sweat, and cologne almost made her gag but after a shot, the urge died down. A slap came down on [Name]’s shoulder. She turns to find Jasmine and Kai with the biggest grin on their faces.

“So? Is this another one of your ‘sneaking out’ days? I’m surprised your bodyguard didn’t catch you or whatever” Jasmine asked, pushing herself up on a stool. She gestured to the bartender for shots as Kai took a seat beside [Name].

“Mmhm, thankfully. It would suck if he did,”  [Name] grumbled, shots lined up in front of the trio.

Kai leaned in. “You’re here and that’s all that matters, yeah?!” He yelled, fighting against the harsh EDM music in the back. Both women cheered in approval.

Shots after shots, drinks after drinks and soon, [Name] had almost succumbed to the alcohol. Kai was nowhere to be found, probably dancing with some bloke on the dancefloor. Jasmine was flirting with someone at the bar, [Name] couldn’t really see who it was and  were heading to the restroom to try and sober up. She pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room. Even with the door closed, the music was pounding on the walls. She stood in front of a sink, turning the faucet to let the water run with hands cupped to catch the water. The sensation of the cooling water was enough to put [Name] at ease, slowly snapping back enough to reality to realise that, oddly enough, she was probably alone in the restroom except with an occupied cubicle (she thinks).

[Name] let out a heavy sigh and a silent curse under her breath, splashing more water onto her face. The faucet creaked close as she gripped the edge of the sink. Sometimes, she hated the aftermath of each party. A hand slid into her pocket to retrieve her vape.

Bringing the tip to her mouth, [Name]  took a deep puff, humming lowly under her breath with her eyes closed. She exhaled slowly, the scent of watermelon in the air. The cubicle door squeaked open, heavy footsteps approached the sinks. took another puff of the vape, slowly exhaling with eyes fluttering open.

The occupant of the cubicle held a gun up to her head and [Name] tensed.

“What-,”

“Shut up,”

A hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing just enough to almost cut off air from her lungs. The vape dropped from her hands to grip the man’s hand in an attempt to ease up the force. But her actions were futile as the barrel of a gun was pressed to the small of her back.

“Move. We’ll make this quick. Try anything and I will kill you,” He hissed, forcing [Name] forward. [Name] gasped, swallowing hard as she made her way out of the restroom. The hand around her throat loosen a little but the gun was still very much pressed against her back.

“Move!” The mercenary growled and [Name] nodded shakily. Eyes shifted around the club, hoping anyone would notice them in peril but all were either too distracted or too intoxicated to notice. She couldn’t find Jasmine or Kai anywhere and [Name] could only hope that they were not in danger.

The cool outdoor air was like a smack to the face. The mercenary was good at acting normally, leading [Name] away from the prying eyes of the scattered people loitering outside the club. A black van, ironically, [Name] noted, was parked a short distance from the club.

“Go,” He grunted, nudging them with the gun.

“Okay..okay..,” [Name] approached the van and the back door swung open. The mercenary shoved the back of his gun to her head harshly, a loud yelp escaping her lips as a black bag covered her spinning view. [Name] blacked out, diving deep into the unknown.

When [Name] came to be, the first thing she realised were hushed voices and the musky smell of the room.

"We have the girl. When the hell are we getting the money?," One whispered, hushed.

"Soon. What we can do now is try to..not kill the asset. But, I don’t think he minds a little scratches and bruises here and there, don’t you think?” Another replied with a light tone in his voice, as if he found all this amusing.

[Name] groaned lowly, lifting her head as the spinning came to a stop.

“Welcome back to us, princess,”

She lunged forward with a growl, the chair pulling her back.

“Don’t call me that, gesu yaro!” (Asshole)

Mercenary A (A for Asshole), let’s call him that, just laughed.

“Very feisty, this one. I like feisty,” He raised a hand, the back of it coming down harshly on [Name]’s poor, delicate cheek. She yelped, head turned from the impact. The skin burned, the bottom lip caught between her teeth as she forced her tears back.

Instead, a low laugh left her lips, looking up slowly.

“Is that the best you got?” She knew this was a bad idea, provoking the enemy but her time with Six had been very helpful indeed.

She spat at mercenary A’s shoes, grinning.

“Whatever it is you want, you won’t get it. He’s coming..He’s coming for you,”

Smack!

“Manahimik!,” (Shut up!)

A grunted with B pulling him back. [Name] let a few tears slip, feeling warmth trickling down her nostril. Had he smacked her so hard that it popped her nasal membrane? The red stained her lips a little, leaning back. She barely had enough time to recover before the back of A’s gun landed against the side of her head again. This time, she was knocked out cold properly.

—-----

[Name] came to be again, this time, waking to an empty room. The smell was still the same, except with a tinge of iron from the damp blood.

“Fuck,” She hissed, lifting her head a little to look at the door.

Bang! Bang!

The loud shots frightened her, jumping a little in her seat. Was that him? Was that Six? [Name] felt her heart sore knowing her crush–erm..bodyguard was here. Screams and groans and the sound of death was growing closer. She could hear heavy thudding, probably indicating bodies dropping like flies. The back of her mind wondered just how many goons were here but forced the thought away.

The door slammed open and hit the wall with a loud clunk. [Name] gasped softly, big, watery eyes studying Six’s dim silhouette under the low light.

“Six..,”

“[Name]..fuck..,” He had a hand on his side, seemingly wounded in the process of getting to his asset. Six grunted lowly as his knife cut through the tight bonds. Without hesitation, [Name] had her arms around Six’s neck, hugging him tightly. Six gritted his teeth, the sharp pain of the wound in his side irritated by the contact.

“I’m so..so glad to see you,” She pulled away, a hand resting on the side of his neck while she scanned his form for injuries.

Aside from the bloodied clothes, she noticed a..about 15cm tear across the white-turned-red fabric. She gasped, the cut looked long but not deep.

“You’re hurt!” She moved his jacket aside.

“It’s not deep. I’m fine,”

“Six, we have to treat it. Come on,” [Name] grabbed Six’s hand, leading him out of the room. His arm wrapped around her head, pushing her face into his shirt.

“Six-,”

“Don’t look,” He murmured, guiding the woman past the dead bodies and to the humid world. She pulled away, spotting her bike.

“You-,”

“Yes,” Six replied immediately. Shaking her head, it was her turn to guide them to safety. She didn’t exactly know how hardy Six was in terms of enduring pain but she was going to assume that of a normal, average man.

[Name] grabbed the helmet.

“Wear this,”

“[Name]--,”

“No! I said wear it. Don’t even try to fight back,” She snapped, not taking any bullshit from Six. A loud sigh left his lips and he could only obey. She started the bike, with Six seated behind her, a strong, tight arm around her abdomen as the bike raced back home.

Six didn’t know what to expect next. He knew he had to patch up his wound, which was by now, alright. It was just stinging but that’s it. He could patch a light knife wound like this. He sustained worse injuries but here he was, seated on a dining chair with his jacket hung behind and a part of his shirt lifted up. Before him was [Name], eyes narrow but attentive as hands professionally moved to patch the wounds up.

“Where did you learn to do this?” Six mumbled the question. Her eyes flicked up to his handsome face and then down to the large gauze.

“I attended medical school before Chichi pulled me out. Didn’t tell me why but I just went with it. I had a feeling it was something to do with his ‘business’, “ She crumpled the trash, setting it aside. Her hand reached into the pail of water, taking out a wet cloth to squeeze out the excess bit of water.

“I always suspected that Chichi and Haha had some funny business with some funny people. Why else would they hire you?” [Name] continued, taking one of Six’s hand in hers. Her movements were gentle as she cleaned the blood off his fingers and knuckles, a soft smile on her lips.

“I know how people perceive me. As either brave or stupid, am I right? I guess it’s just a facade..a mask for who I really am..,” She trailed off, dipping the cloth back into the pail. As she squeezed the water out again, blood now replaced the clarity of the water.

“I’m sorry about today, Six. I really am,” Her fingers gently stroked the unwounded part of his clean hand. Her eyes met with Six’s and for the first time in her year with him, she could read his emotions. Her smile went big, turning back down with a soft laugh as the cloth moved around his bloodied hands. The cloth was rinsed again and this time, she paid attention to the mess on his face, faces so cloth she could smell the lingering watermelon scent on his lips

Six visibly tensed, not used to such fragility. [Name]’s thumb gently caressed a rough spot on his jaw, setting the cloth back in the pail. She leaned in with fingers under his chin, planting a soft kiss to his cheekbone.

“All done. I hope you can forgive me, shikshu-chan,” She winked, leaving with the pail in hand.

Six looked down at his wound, the dressing was tight and good. He slumped back, sighing heavily.

What has he gotten himself into?

[shecantbother]

Me not getting enough of these Six/Court Gentry posts. Thanks universe for giving me another character to fall in love with.

[hederasgarden]

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.

[the-purest-wolf]

Those long blonde hairs and the suit are driving me crazy

[renren-006]

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​

[mlmxreader]

Nightmare Wrapped in His Shirt | Sierra Six x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: So we're both bored and the second heatwave is getting to us so how about some Six comfort fics. I've picked a few prompts that I like the look off, so have fun.

"That's my shirt, can you not steal it?"

summary: by pure luck and without much thought to it, you end up wearing Six’s shirt, and the way he reacts to it is something that you didn’t quite expect, as pleasant as it is. 

tws: swearing, mentions of smoking

word count: 1670

Despite the heat, so horrid and so humid and so fucking sweltering that it was hard enough to move from the sofa, you did need to go shopping; mostly to pick up some things that Claire needed, but also because you and Six were running out of certain things. Mundane things, mostly, like tobacco and energy drinks and coffee. It was sweltering, though, and you weren’t really thinking when you grabbed the nearest shirt and tugged it on, running a hand down your face and groaning when sweat stuck to your palm, wincing as you wiped it on your jeans and shook your head; you took a look at the empty bed, smiling a little at how Six’s side was left pristine, and your side had half the sheet pulled up from the mattress, pillows in a wreckage, and the blanket crumpled and scruffy. You sighed, grabbing your shoes and heading to the door; Six was out in the garden with Claire, hitting the ball on the string back and forth as they talked. You figured it best not to interrupt the moment of sibling bonding, and grabbed the shopping bags before heading out of the door; you smiled a little to yourself as you got in the car, chucking the bags onto the passenger seat and plugging your phone into the aux cord. 

You went through your music library, humming a little to yourself as you found what you were looking for, your playlist made up of entirely Sabaton songs, you clicked the shuffle button and turned the volume up as ‘Race to the Sea’ came on; you started the little drive to the shop, singing along loudly to the song as you did so, even when you got caught in traffic, a hardly ideal situation in the middle of a heatwave, you still sang along. 

“For king and for country, we are flooding the river, our stand at Yser will be the end of the race to the sea, the last piece of Belgium’s free, we’re keeping a sliver, a cog in the war machine, October of nineteen-fourteen! See a king and a soldier, fighting shoulder to shoulder, see a king and a soldier, fighting shoulder to shoulder, he overruled his commanders, he made a last stand in Flanders, we see our king and a soldier, they’re fighting shoulder to shoulder to keep the last piece of Belgium free, all the way, onto triumph or to judgement day, we will follow and we will not be led astray!” 

You were quick to find somewhere to park when you got to the shop, even quicker to grab a trolley and to go down each aisle to get what was on your list, grateful that they at least had air conditioning and that you could walk a little slower down the freezer aisles where it was cooler; you figured there would be no harm in grabbing some ice poles and some other little frozen treats, after all, it was hot and such things would be a fucking heaven send. You didn’t hang around, though, grabbing what you needed and finding a till that was a little less busy, quickly unloading everything onto the conveyor belt and packing it into the bags once it had been scanned; you paid as soon as you could and made quick work of getting back to the car, loading up the bags, and taking the trolley back before getting into the car. 

This time, ‘Dreadnought’ played, and you couldn’t help but to grin as you made your way back to the safehouse, you were certain that some people gave you less than kind looks when they saw you singing along at such a loud volume, but you didn’t really care. 

“Ahead the sea lies calm awaiting the storm, displace the water in its path, reveal the cannons, align the guns, unleash their wrath! Unopposed under crimson skies, immortalised, over time their legend will rise and their foes can’t believe their eyes, believe their size as they fall, and the dreadnoughts dread nothing at all!” 

You weren’t entirely sure how, but you had a feeling that it was probably because they had heard the music and your singing, but when you pulled up to the driveway, Six and Claire were waiting for you; they helped you to get the shopping bags in, but as he was about to grab the last one, Six stopped you. 

“That’s my shirt.” 

“Uh, yeah,” you shrugged. “I grabbed the first one I got to before I left.” 

Six clenched his jaw, grumbling to himself as he grabbed the bag and huffed; he wasn’t sure how to explain it, but the thought of you going out wearing his shirt… it made him feel just a little bit possessive. The fact that you were wearing his shirt, and that he knew it smelled like him, it was like somehow he still had claimed you as his even though he wasn’t there; he shook his head, dumping the bag on the counter as he helped Claire to put it all away while you parked the car across the road. 

It took longer than usual to find your normal parking spot, mostly due to the fact that it seemed as if some of the neighbours had been hosting guests, but you eventually managed to park near the end of the road; you made it back in one piece at least, helping the siblings to put the rest of the shopping away before Claire grabbed an ice cream lolly from the fridge and bolted outside so that she could have it, leaving you and Six all alone. He smiled at you, tilting his head to the side. 

“That’s my shirt, can you not steal it?”

“You want it back?” You chuckled, gripping the hem and starting to tug it up when Six pinned you against the counter, clenching his jaw and grumbling to himself. “What? You don’t want me to steal it, but you don’t want me to give it back, either.” 

Sighing, he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I bet everyone in the shop knew it was my shirt.” 

You shrugged. “Why would that matter?”

“Don’t make me say it,” he breathed out, getting in your face so that his lips were just close enough so that you could feel the words against your mouth, hot and a little bit harsh. 

You smiled, humming softly as you squinted a little bit, almost like you were smug about getting him so fucking riled up, almost as if you wanted him to know; sure, it had originally been mere luck that you had wound up wearing his shirt, but as you looked at Six now, as you saw how fucking riled up he was and how you had definitely pushed a button you didn’t know had existed before, you couldn’t help but to want to play a little game with him. To see how far you could push the trained killer until he eventually snapped. To press any other unknown buttons that laid beneath the surface. 

Reaching out, you put your hand on his chest, watching him swallow thickly as he sucked in a harsh breath, lowering your hand and trying not to laugh at how he grumbled quietly, feeling him shiver a little when you snuck your hand under his shirt, slowly moving your hand up until it was resting right next to his heart; you leaned in, so close that your breath mixed with his, and you grinned. 

“You gonna say it now?”

“Fuck,” he grumbled, sighing heavily and grabbing at your belt, trying his best to remain at least a little calm despite the overwhelming urge to drag you upstairs and lock the door and show you how he was really feeling. “You’re gonna play this game?”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you bit at the inside of your lip. “Originally, I wasn’t going to, it was just… luck that I happened to put your shirt on but… fuck, seeing you like this… yeah, I’m gonna play this game.”

“I hate you,” Six breathed out, daring to move his hand up to your jaw as he growled softly, his thumb on your cheek as he let two fingers rest just behind your ear, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. “I bet everyone in that shop could fucking smell me on you.” 

“Probably,” you mused. “But I was sweating quite a bit so… maybe not.” 

“They all knew you were mine,” he snarled, his breathing getting a little heavier as he thought about it more. 

Everyone knowing you were his, and he didn’t even have to be at your side to prove it or to show it; he shook his head, biting at the inside of his lip as he groaned softly and let his hand fall to the base of your throat. Fuck, more than anything, he wanted to claim you with a kiss right there and then, but he pulled away, running a hand through his hair as he cleared his throat. 

“I better go make sure the grounds are safe,” he muttered, staring down at his shoes. 

You licked your lips, getting in his face and gently tracing his jaw, even daring to laugh softly as how his beard tickled your fingertips when you got to it. “At least kiss me before you do… for good luck, or whatever.” 

“Later,” he grumbled. “And don’t take that fucking shirt off.” 

“Oh, I won’t,” you beamed, daring to kiss his cheek. “Not until you tell me to.” 

Six grumbled, sighing heavily as he swallowed thickly and turned away from you. “You’re a nightmare, (Y/n).” 

“And yet, you’re here with me,” you pointed out. “And you’ll be cuddled into me later, if it’s cooled down enough.” 

“That’s a big if.” 

“Well, so is me taking off your shirt without your say so,” you mused. “But we’ll just have to see which happens first, right?”

“Nightmare.”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

[bishopgirl98]

HCs: A Series of Gentle Touches with Six Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but not today

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hmmm, good night, Claire”

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

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

“Six, you want some help with that?”

he nods, but doesn’t look your way

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

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

a knife drops, slicing the palm of your hand

“mmm, shit,” you exclaim

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

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

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

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

 he goes to touch you again, and stops himself

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

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

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

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

he takes his thumb and applies a bit of pressure

jokingly you exclaim, “ouch”

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

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

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

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

“well doc, how am i looking?”

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

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

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

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

he chuckles, “no, i’m sure i wasn’t”

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

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

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

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

he nods, and motions for you to go first

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

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

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

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

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

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

almost relieved you don’t find him uninteresting

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

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

[babywll]

Taking Care of Him — Sierra Six/Court Gentry × Fem!reader

plot: helping your boyfriend take care of himself after a hard night.

warning: blood, mention of, deep cut mention and some fluff

let's assume fitzroy wasn't out here!!

this is actually my first story here, so sorry for any mistakes, english its not my first language :D

You woke up in the middle of the night, at least that's what the clock with the time marked in neon red said. Your bare legs were tangled in the white comforter, and the shirt you stole from your boyfriend's stuff was all you covered. He had left for his Sierra agent mission shortly after dark. And you only slept after a long time trying to force yourself to stay awake.

You were still worried, the clock said 03:12 in the morning, and so far there's no sign of your boyfriend coming back. You've always been aware of his work, and after all, you've been together for two years, he's been at it for eighteen. He's been through so much, it's silly to worry. But still, you couldn't sleep without making sure he was by your side, good and safe. His jobs have decreased a lot, now he rarely goes out on these missions. These are just extreme cases. And that's what gives you the chills.

You sat up in bed, and you put your hands on your face for a few seconds, just until you fully woke up. You avoided looking at her watch, because knew it had only been five minutes since the last looked. The curtain was open, and the light from the buildings and the moon that lit the room a little. The apartment you were staying this time is on a penthouse, it has an incredible view. And it's a pity it's only for two days.

Usually the first one you use to explore the city and get to know the culture, your boyfriend knows so much about it that sometimes he even looks like a tourist guide. But you love it. Love the first days because you enjoy it, and forget what will happen in the next. Loves it when they stop to eat at a cute little cafe, or when they have dinner at a fancy restaurant.

Any minute moment with your boyfriend already brings you enormous comfort. Especially when you're holding his hand, when he kisses your head when you're hugging, or when he shows you little things you never noticed before, but he already does. Because he always notices everything.

The second day is the day of the mission, and you can't do anything but stay in the apartment. And it's thanks to Fitzroy that you can follow six — and some of it is from your short-term nursing course, the excuse was used that you're going to tend to the wounds. Even if six knows very well how to do it, since he took care of himself for sixteen years. You feel silly with your half-course beside him. But of course you take care, you always will. And the main reason is to be close.

Even though he likes to protect you and keep you close, at first it was a little different. Maybe because he didn't want you to see him as he looks after his work is done. He went through so many things, closed himself off from so many people. It was something about you that made him open up. But only with you.

You get tired of sitting around waiting, and you get out of bed barefoot — since you've lost your sock between the sheets, and your slippers are already put away, ready for when you leave. The curtain in the living room and kitchen was also open, so you didn't bother to turn on the light, just turned on a small lamp on the table so you could make coffee.

While it wasn't ready, you drummed your fingers on the countertop, and tried not to look at the clock hand moving, the noise was already torture enough. Your eyes drop from tiredness, you have no idea how you slept, I think it just went out after a while. After he left you tried to distract yourself with the TV, so you packed your suitcase, and the apartment, and then you took a shower. But nothing seemed to make time go by any faster.

When you couldn't sleep, he would tell you the stories of what happened in those years, just because you asked too much, even if it scared you. Deep down it brought a little comfort, that no matter what, he'd always come home.

When the coffee was ready you quickly emptied your mug, the coffee ran out, and there was no sign of it coming back. Tired of waiting on your feet you just went back to your room and lay down, closed your eyes and tried to sleep. But seconds later the sound of the door opening made you wake up again.

It was him, he had finally arrived. You knew because you heard him cursing under his breath after hitting some furniture in the dark. You got up and turned on the light, finding him.

"Hey babe I'm sorry did I wake you up?" he said, but you were so relieved that you ran to hug him.

"I couldn't even sleep," you said, hugging him even tighter. When he pulled away he gave her a kiss, but she noticed blood on him.

It was a bruise, maybe not that deep, but a cut near the mouth. You looked looking for another. He had one near his eyebrow, and one on his arm.

"You should go back to bed and rest, don't worry about it" he took your hand.

"You must be hurting too much to think I'm going to leave you," he chuckled, a weak laugh, but one that made you a little less worried "Come on, let's go to the bathroom and clean this up"

He followed you, you made him take a shower while you took the kit you had set aside. When you came back he had already taken it off and was shirtless. No other cuts, other than the one now visible, on the chest. You stood in front of him and started to clean the bruises on his face, only the one on his eyebrow needed a little bandage.

"My shirt?" he asked, his hands gripping your waist.

"You know I do" you bit your lip and smiled slightly "Want it back?"

"No, I like you to use it"

"It smells like you" you finished the bandage and held his face, looking for another spoiled "Clean" you kissed him and knelt down to tend to the cut on his chest.

"It just looks deep" he said, you leaned in but he didn't seem to feel pain.

"Want to tell me about it?" you muttered, he rarely counted, you didn't want to force him either.

"Maybe another day"

It was silent while you took care of the cut, but soon it was over and just another dressing. He put on a shirt with some difficulty, and thanked you with a kiss.

"Now yes, we can sleep"

"I probably wouldn't feel so good if I had to take care of myself" he suddenly picked you up and carried you to the bed.

When they finally lay down, it looked like a lie. You didn't realize you were this tired until you stopped worrying. And with him by her side, it felt good.

His strong arms embraced you, and you buried your face in his chest, careful not to touch the bruise. Even though he'd insisted it wasn't hurting. Slowly you let sleep take you as he stroked your hair.

"I love you" he whispered, so low you almost wouldn't have heard it.

"No more than me" you muttered before falling asleep. Remembering all the other times you guys said that, because it always meant more than a joke.

And suddenly, there didn't seem to be anything else but both.

__

words: 1245

thanks for reading!! give me some support i would be grateful

[listenbuckaroo]

Flowers - Courtland Gentry (Sierra Six) x Reader

Warnings: guns, blood, canonical violence, not too graphic or nothin 

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: your high school sweetheart appears unannounced in your apartment

a/n: im back friends :) hope you like this one!

Juggling the keys and grocery bags you had just picked up you trudge through the halls of your small apartment building. Carefully you tried to soften your footsteps so as to not wake your neighbor, who had a habit of yelling at you when you came home from late shifts for making too much noise. 

Unfortunately this evening she was already waiting for you outside of her door, maybe it was the obnoxiously loud music you had to blast on your way home from work so as to not fall asleep but you were about to find out. 

“Hi Mrs. Cross, how are you tonight?” you attempted to start on a good note before she laid into you.

“Your boyfriend has been in there for the past hour beating and banging on things and it keeps waking me up!” She said in her shrill voice. 

But tonight her shrill voice wasn’t the one that was bothering you, the fact that someone was in your apartment and had been for the past hour was. You didn’t have a boyfriend, not since high school and that was a long time ago. Fearing the assumed robbers were still in there right now and not wanting Mrs. Cross to report it you just sighed and said, “Don’t worry I'll handle him. Have a good night!” 

Waiting until she was inside and door locked you placed all your bags right outside your door and pulled your small handgun from your purse and pushed on your door. Whoever was in there had left it unlocked, probably assuming no one was going to come back tonight given the hour it was. 

The smell of blood hit you before you saw anyone, looking down at the floor bloody boot prints marred your wood floors in a jagged pattern meaning someone was probably bleeding out in your apartment. For a moment you considered that this may be too much, even for you, but shook the thought out of your mind. 

And not a moment too soon, a body came barrelling at you from your bathroom in an attempt to tackle you. Sliding forward and tripping him you quickly clamored on top and pinned his arms to his sides so he couldn’t attack again. 

“Jesus I’m gonna get so much shit for being topped by a girl.” You heard him wheeze out, as you flipped the nearest light switch in the hall. 

Looking down and seeing who you had now pinned to your floor was one of the last people you thought you might ever see again, Courtland Gentry. The pure shock that went through your body caused you to freeze and nearly drop the gun you were holding a few inches away from his face. He looked like he had been in a bar fight with 20 different people in the past few hours, bruises littered his face and neck and the weeping cut on his eyebrow was threatening to gush blood into his eye.

His face contorted into one of confusion, and then blanched like he had seen a ghost, “Y/N?” He questioned in a whisper.

“Courland what the fuck are you doing in my apartment?” You said not moving the gun from his face. 

“What am I doing here? You live here?” He wheezed, glancing around your sparsely decorated apartment, which only made you squeeze his arms into his body further.

“Okay, that's a fair move.” he whined. 

“Talk, then I’ll move.” you said getting comfortable on your new seat. 

“Hmmm, that's classified” he groaned as you jabbed a knee into his side.

“Nice fucking try, you’re supposed to be in prison.” You spat at him.

The pure anger and resentment on your face must have shocked him. He stopped squirming underneath you and looked you in your eyes. You liked to believe that you had kept a front up pretty well. Ever since Courtland had left for prison in highschool, you felt like he took a part of your heart with him. 

You two were nearly inseparable, both being from lower middle class families you lived near each other and always hung out every summer which eventually led to you dating in highschool. He was the most gentle person, especially with you before everything happened, and you thought you would never see him again. The last time you saw him he was being dragged away in handcuffs and threw a wink over his shoulder at you. 

Your father wouldn’t take you to see him at the trial so you tried on multiple occasions to go yourself, always being caught by school security. It felt like true love, but you eventually came to terms later that you had been swooped up in a summer love affair with a murder and had no busisness missing him. 

So you stopped. You stopped fighting, you never tried to go visit him in prison once you got old enough because you knew it'd be too hard. He was probably a deeply changed person and one that you wouldn't recognize or have the heart to actually break up with since you hadn't when he had first left. 

"Get to it Gentry I don't have all night." You said moving around on top of him shifting the slightest bit of weight towards his ribs.

He winced and wriggled out of your grasp, done with you annoying his clearly fractured ribs anymore tonight. He grabbed your thighs and shoved you off of him, even though he was bulky you didn’t expect the speed that came out of him. He had your hands pinned and your gun tossed away from you before you could really register what had happened.

"Oh, eat shit." You huffed out finishing it difficult to complete a full sentence with his new found body weight on top of you. 

He didn't say anything but slowly put a hand over your mouth as you listened to whatever he thought he heard. You tried to move around and get out from his weight but he gave you a glare that made you immediately stop. Focusing on quieting your breathing you looked back up at Courland.

He had aged, but to be fair it had been 10 years since the last time you had seen him. His dirty blonde hair was longer than you remember, but it suited him. The goatee however, you were on the fence about, you could maybe get used to it. His shoulders were about twice as broad as the last time you had seen him, and he stunk. That was what stood out the most. 

After a few seconds you heard footsteps outside that sounded heavy and they were moving with a purpose. Hoping Mrs. Cross didn't step outside to yell at them when they ran by you and waited until Courtland told you it was clear. It was obvious he had extensive training with some organization, but you still didn't know how he was out of prison.

He dropped his hand from your mouth and sat up to his knees in front of you. Still in a haze of panic you back up to grab your gun and aim it back at him. The confusion coursing through your mind made it difficult to process everything that was happening. 

He looked down at you sadly almost, he gently lifted his hand and pointed the gun down towards the ground. You let him take it out of your hands and turn the safety on. You stared at him and the blood pulsing down his face from a cut that he had recently acquired.

“Courtland Gentry, what the fuck are you doing in my apartment?” you said once again hoping you wouldn’t have to kick his ass for answers, although you’re not sure if you would win considering how much he had beefed up.

“I swear I'd tell you if I could.” He looked at you, almost as if he was trying to memorize the new freckles and lines on your face.

“Okay, well how did you get in?” you questioned hoping to get some kind of information out of him.

“Window.” he gestured to your living room fire escape and misplaced furniture that was now there, “it looked vacant that's why I came in.”

You glanced back over at him and couldn’t help but smile, he had always given you shit for your subpar homemaker skills when you were younger. You couldn’t cook, cleaned the bare minimum and when you did you somehow did it wrong. Surprisingly, he knew more than you and taught you a lot those years you had the privilege of knowing him.

Your smile quickly faded as you took in the man in front of you. Very far off from the boy you knew and watched go to prison for life. In all honesty you weren’t mad at him for what he did, you would have done the same for your sibling, you were just mad that your best friend was stripped away from you without warning. And without a doubt now you definitely did not know this person. He looked battle hardened and exhausted, far off from the vibrant sweet boy you remember.

“I hate to ask but can I shower here?” he said, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

“Oh yeah, do you need help?”

“No, I think I know how to shower.”

“I meant with the cut you perv.” you said, pushing his shoulder as you stood to grab a towel for him.

He giggled and nodded at you as he loudly ripped the elastic of what appeared to be a bullet proof vest that he was wearing. 

“Mrs. Cross is going to file a noise complaint if you don’t shut the hell up.” you said throwing a towel at him.

“I’ll get her some fucking flowers if it gets you out of this dump.” he said kicking his shoes off in the hallway, and you missed the following eyes of your former best friend as you made your way to the bedroom. 

10 minutes later he was standing in your doorway in the sweatpants you had set outside the door and fresh blood was leaking from the cut on his eyebrow. You grabbed the first aid kit from under your bed and made your way to the bathroom.

“Sit.” you said and pointed at the edge of the bathtub.

He happily obliged and waited on you. Removing the antiseptic ointment and sticky gauze you had planned to use on the cut you turned your attention back to the man in front of you. Being as gentle as possible you pulled his chin up so you could see the cut in a better light. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches so what you had here would be fine. 

Reaching back to grab your supplies you tenderly helped Courtland, something you hadn’t been able to do in years. He surprisingly accepted it, you’re not sure if it was the exhaustion that he was suddenly wracked with or the fact that 10 years had really changed the people you both were. Nevertheless as soon as you finished he offered you a soft, “Thanks honey.” in his tired state.

Making your way to your bedroom you offered him the bed, and you were headed to take the small futon that sat in your living room. 

“You can stay here too, I won’t go anywhere near you.” He said as you got up to  leave.

“Courtland it's been too long I don’t..”

“Just shut up and lay down.” He said seeing the exhaustion on your face as well. 

You snuggled tightly on your side, almost feeling like you were in the same bed as a stranger, but then again you weren’t. You shifted towards the middle of the bed giving the all clear that if your bodies made contact on your small bed that night you would be okay. Then before you knew it, a strong arm was slung over your midsection dragging you into a deep sleep.

—

Cortland knew leaving this bed with the love of his life would be one of the hardest things he’d ever do. When the sun began to peak through the window in Y/N’s bedroom a deep sense of dread came to life. He didn’t mean to break into her apartment, it did look vacant to him, and now he was worried he may be putting her in danger.

But if he said he was happier than this beforehand he would be a liar. He had never felt more at peace and rested after a single night than this in a long time. Slowly unwrapping his arms from around Y/N’s sleeping body he tried his best not to wake her. 

Hoping he could slip out of her small apartment without waking her, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, hell, he never knew when he would see anyone from his past life that would solely call him Courtland instead of Six ever again. Grabbing his boots and vest he made his way to the kitchen and looked around. 

He had no money to buy her a halfway decent couch but he could leave a note and steal some wildflowers flowers from the field outside. Scribbling a few words on a notepad she had lying on the counter:

Morning honey,

Please don’t be mad at me for leaving without saying goodbye, I’ll fall into your tiny apartment again soon.

-CG

Placing a stick of gum next to his note and tiny flowers, Six slipped out the fire escape and back into his normal life once more.