#sierra six/reader fic

[danime25]

You Had Me At Soup

masterlist // ao3

*Summary: While in the Sierra program, Six never got sick. Now that he was adapting to civilian life with Claire and the woman he roped in to play Claire's mom, he seemed to be down with a bug of some kind.

*Rating: T For Teen

*Content/Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fake Dating, Pining, So Much Mutual Pining, Sickfic

*Status: Oneshot/Complete

A gift for a friend, enjoy!

Six heard the plink of fat raindrops hit the window of his bedroom. In between the rhythm of the precipitation, a splitting pounding in his head. He tried to sit up, but that seemed to only make the pain worse for him. His stirring woke up the woman beside him and she saw as he curled back up under the covers.

“Six?” She asked him. She sat up and her hand ended up resting on his forehead, “Oh you’re burning up.”

“I need to take Claire…” He made an effort to sit back up before deciding getting up was overrated

“I’ll take her to school. You have to rest.” She said in a soft tone. Sure it was soft, but he knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

“Okay.” He sighed, “Tell Claire I love her.”

“I will. I’ll go wake her up.” She got up and closed the door behind her. As quickly as he woke up, he went back to sleep. It was only a 30 minute nap, he confirmed so with a quick glance at his phone. He sighed and checked his phone,

“Sent 1 Minute Ago

Got Claire to school, be home soon.”

“Okay.” He whispered to himself before getting up to go to the bathroom. He looked like shit. He’d never been this laid up over the flu before, but he supposed his immune system wasn’t operating at 100 percent just yet. Something about the healing process after almost dying. He managed to muster enough energy to hop in the shower and clean up his facial hair but even that seemed like too much. He crawled back into bed bitterly and looked up at the ceiling. By the time he was back in bed he heard the door jingle open and she called out into the house,

“I’m home!”

“Hi.” He tried to shout back, but this only brought on a fit of coughs. She opened the bedroom door and came over to him

“How long did you sleep for?” She asked him. It was like she was a nurse doing rounds.

“About 30 minutes.”

“Six.” She tisked, “Get some more rest. I’ll wake you up after I’ve made lunch.”

“Yes ma’am.” He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. She stood by his side until she saw the weight of his body sink into the mattress and went down into the kitchen.

---

He jolted up in bed and looked at his phone to check the time. 2 hours and 14 minutes. Better. He got up out of bed and wrapped the spare blanket around his shoulders to walk down to the kitchen.

“Hey.” She turned around to face him, “I just finished… I could’ve brought it up to you.”

“It’s okay.” He sat down at the island, hunched over and rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“Here.” She brought the tray over to him. A roll of saltine crackers, some soup that was warm to the touch but not scalding, and bowl of peeled oranges

“I could’ve peeled the orange myself.” He said to her, popping a wedge into his mouth

“I know you could’ve.” She returned his highly guarded sarcasm with a cold wall that worked just as hard to keep him out as it kept her inside herself. He wanted to break it. He needed to know how she felt… felt about the situation he’d pulled her into. About him.

“Thank you.” He replied after a couple seconds of silence. He took the spoon and blew on the soup before bringing it up to his lips. He let the soup linger on his tongue for a little too long just to make sure his taste buds were still intact. Practically the only sense of his not shot to hell. It tasted… wonderful. It was somewhere between made from scratch and straight from a can but the line seemed to blur. The pulled pieces of chicken were tender, but the noodles weren’t melting into nothingness. He tried to skirt around the piece of celery and carrots that were floating in the broth, until he saw her leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. He looked back down at his bowl and took a spoonful of the veggies up to his mouth. She nodded silently and turned around to start working on dishes. He had to force himself to get the celery down, but he managed to finish it and went back to savoring the fruit. He got up to grab a drink and she pointed at a glass to her side, filled with water. He nodded and took it back to his seat. When he was done with his meal he thumbed around with the cabinets on his side of the island to grab a piece of gum. He wasn’t able to find any so he grumbled quietly and went to rest on the couch. He turned the TV on to just flip through his options. It gave his fingers something to do while the rest of him was bedridden. He decided on something he’d seen a couple of times as a kid and just listened to it. It reminded him of days when he’d watch something with his brother… it was just what he needed to lull himself back to sleep. He woke again a couple of hours later when the house door opened. Clare tried to be quiet, but she couldn’t help running over to Six to tell her about her day.

“Hey, Six.” She smiled at him, “Guess what?”

“What?” He sat up

“You know that math test I was freaking out about?”

“Yes I do.”

“I passed it.” She pulled the paper from her backpack and showed it to him, “I got a couple of answers wrong, but I got the foundation down. I talked to Mr. Garcia about what I could do better next time, and he helped me figure it out.”

“I’m so proud of you.” He gave her head a little scruff, “Didn’t it pay off to work on it?”

“Yeah. You know it’s my hardest subject.” She sighed, “I just hope I can remember it for the final.”

“You will.” He reassured her before she stole the TV remote from the footrest in front of Six. She started flipping through channels before stopping on a teen drama of some kind.

“I know you’re quiet Six, but you’re not normally this quiet.”

“It’s fine Claire.” He replied

“He’s been sick all day.” His partner peaked her head into the room and explained to Claire

“Six.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve been taking care of him all day.” She walked in and put a fruity electrolyte drink in front of him. With his daughter and her looking at him, he took a swig of it and swallowed it down. It wasn’t bad tasting by any means, but his body wasn’t used to it. After he took a minute to grow accustomed to it, he drank it down quickly.

“That’s good.” Claire sighed, “You’ll be okay tomorrow though right?”

“Yeah. It’s just another Thursday.” He smiled at her, “I’m going to head up to my room. Let me know if you need me.”

“I won’t, get some rest.” Claire yelled after him as he was halfway up the stairs. Like a shadow, the woman followed him up the stairs and went to the master bathroom. He heard her rummaging for a minute before she opened the door.

“What did you do?” He raised an eyebrow

“Just made you a bath.”

“You saying I stink?”

“It’s good for the sinuses.” She replied as she got under the covers of their bed and pulled out the book she’d been working on for the past couple of nights.

“Fine.” He went into the bathroom and saw the water waiting for him. He removed his pajamas and sunk in as far as he could fit in the tub. He let his head rest along the edge and took a deep breath. Something peppermint smelling wafted through the air. It was relaxing. Despite having slept the whole day away, he could have fallen asleep there. Would tonight be the night? When he finally let go of all reason and kissed her forehead in a way only a husband and wife should. Would she give into the desperate pleas in his eyes as he wanted to be held all through the night? With a sigh he pulled himself out of the lukewarm water and grabbed a towel. He went back into the bedroom and saw her curled up to her side of the bed, resting her head against the back of her hand on her pillowcase. Slowly he inched forward and as he was about to kiss her cheek, he pulled away fearing she might still be awake. When she didn’t react to him in her space, he laid next to her on his side. He faced away from her and shut his eyes. He felt the weight in the bed shift but stayed still. He felt the tips of her fingers linger along his spine and her face pressed into his back. This being before her lips touched the spot where his shoulders met with his spine. He controlled the shiver he felt as she made contact with him and acted as though he was out cold.

“Feel better.” She whispered, the air pushing against his skin before she rolled back over. Six waited in silence until he knew she was fully asleep before getting up out of bed and walking down to the kitchen.

“I’ve gotta go.” Claire hung up on whoever she was talking to and looked over her shoulder, “Hi Six.”

“Hi.” He replied, sitting down next to her

“Aren’t you going to ask who I was on the phone with? Oh it was just a friend from school, don’t worry Six. Hey…”

“I’m fine Claire.” He insisted, when Claire picked up that he wasn’t responding to her usual dry sense of humor

“No you’re not. Is it because you’re sick?”

“No.”

“Is it because of her?”

“No.” He lied

“Six.” She sighed, “Just tell her how you feel.”

“I don’t have anything to tell her.”

“Well then you should show her.”

“There’s nothing to show her.”

“Six you’re so frustrating to deal with sometimes.” She huffed, “I need to go to bed anyway. Good night.”

“Good night.” He sighed as she left. He grabbed a pack of gum to chew on while he sat and contemplated. He couldn’t keep this up. This would breach every rule he learned in the Sierra program, to let himself be vulnerable with her and tell her how he feels. Still it killed a piece of him every day knowing that she wouldn’t crack before he did. “Why me…” He shook his head and went back upstairs to finish sleeping for the night. He woke up the next morning feeling about as well as he did the day before, if only slightly better. He was able to get up on his own, but at her insistence she drove Claire to school that day again. When she got back she did another check on him.

“Not nearly as feverish, but still high.”

“That sucks.” He sighed

“I’ll make you lunch again.” She said, matter of fact

“Fine.”

“Do you want something different?”

“Surprise me.” He curled back under the covers, knowing she’d tell him to anyway. She went downstairs and started making noise as she looked for an appliance. While she was distracted with that, he decided to hit the shower once more. He didn’t feel like he could nap again even if his life depended on it, so he decided to flip through one of her books she had finished while he waited for the smells from the kitchen to waft up the vents. He lost himself in the book though, because he saw her attempting to open the door while holding his tray of food. He rushed to the door and held it open for her and she quietly thanked him. He nodded and got back into bed. “Smells good.”

“Thank you.” She replied. It looked like she had more to say, but whatever it was she didn’t. He looked over the tray, the soup didn’t have veggies floating in it but was a pureed consistency with a bright yellow base. There were some spices sitting on the top layer, and without bothering to look at what she had put on the side, he dug in. It was warm and comforting, and it felt more nourishing. He put down the spoon and drank it straight from the bowl before muttering about how good it was.

“Thank you.” Her face cracked with a gentle smile. He moved on to the bread on the side, pulling it apart with his fingers and looked over at the bowl of fruit. Strawberries today. Not his favorite, but surely she had a reason to give him those so he ate them with the little fork she had included on the side. She sat on the edge of the bed as he finished up and he pushed it away from himself. “I’ll go take this downstairs.” She leaned in, and Six leaned in towards her. Her body not anticipating this, her lips nearly brushed up against his forehead. They both sat still and she darted her eyes away from his gaze. He took her head into his hand and forced her eyes back up to meet his. He let everything that he felt pour into his eyes before she broke contact and kissed his forehead. He took a hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. He held her hand against his chest before kissing it once more. She moved closer to him and tilted her head so as to kiss him before he stopped her. When she looked at him with confusion he explained,

“I don’t want you to get sick too.”

“Maybe it’s worth it.” She said before her lips made contact with his. He wrapped his hands back around her neck as he made an effort to deepen the kiss.

“I’ve… fallen for you.” He said, not wanting to admit how long he’s wanted this

“I have too…”

“Be honest with me.” He said, with the implication of ‘Bare your soul to me’

“Yes?”

“How long have you felt this way for me?”

“I…” She didn’t want to tell him, she had built this wall around herself and if she said anything her protection from feeling was gone. Six knew it all too well, which is why he wanted to hear from her first. “The first couple of months after you told me you needed someone to act as your wife was fine. I fell in love with Claire as though she was my own daughter the minute I met her…. And you, it felt as natural as breathing to feel as though we were in love.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve never had to act because I’ve felt from the bottom of my heart that you were my ‘one’. I was just afraid that you didn’t return my feelings.”

“I understand.” He sighed, “I’ve had feelings for you pretty much since the same time. The way you take care of Claire… when you chewed out the admin.”

“You like me yelling?” She raised an eyebrow

“It was cute honestly.” He smirked back, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man in so much fear before. I was a little scared too.”

“You have nothing to fear, my love.” She kissed his cheek with a smile as she pulled away, “Now… you should rest.”

“I should.” He sighed, “But would it be too much if I asked you to stay by my side?”

“How?”

“Just lie in bed with me.” He replied

“Okay.” She put his tray on the side table and got under the covers with him. They stared at each other before Six closed the space between them with her in his arms. She rested her head against his chest for a second before he said,

“I…”

“Yes?” She looked up at him with doe eyes

“I have to tell you, I wasn’t asleep last night… When you kissed me. It gave me the courage I needed to tell you how I felt today.”

“Oh.” She said before hiding her face back into him

“Can you… hold me like that?”

“You want me to spoon you?” She asked

“Yes please.”

“Anything for you.” She kissed his cheek before he rolled over. Her arms were like magnets to his torso and they pulled his back into the front of her body. She moved up in the bed so her head could comfortably rest on his shoulder and she kissed the back of his neck. His hand worked its way over one of hers and threaded his fingers in between the spaces left by hers. He took a deep sigh as he felt the weight in his chest lift. Sure he was still sick, but with her by his side he had a feeling that he’d recover that much quicker.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Killing Time: Prologue

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“Yes, he’s here again,” your voice creaks as your hand shakes. “Please. I called yesterday…” And every other day for months. Almost a full year.

You peer out between the small space that divides curtain from window. The shadow looms, looking up at you. Your phone vibrates as the operator hems and haws on the other end.

“Are you sure it’s him?” She asks. They always doubt you. Report after report, phone call after phone call, and it’s always question, question, question. You sigh.

“Yes,” your voice peeks as you pull back and hide against the wall. “Yes, I know it’s him. He’s texting me.”

You don’t even need to check. It’s the same thing every time. Next, he’ll try to sneak in the front and be knocking at your apartment door.

“Well, ma’am, you say you’ve called before and we’ve sent a cruiser and we’ve filed reports. And this man keeps showing up, so what exactly do you want me to do now? I can’t issue you a safety order over the phone--”

“Excuse me?” You gasp. “Excuse me? Are you serious? I have an order already and much good it does me. I call you and I get accused of being dramatic and questioned. What I want is for someone to protect me.”

“Ma’am, don’t get abusive with me,” she warns. “Have you tried telling him to go away yourself?”

“Wow, wow,” you throw your hand out. “Really? Really? No, I never thought of it,” you say sarcastically, “is there someone else who can take me call? I really don’t feel safe.”

“If it makes you feel better, I can reroute an officer to you. Alright?” She speaks as if you’re a child. You’re too weak to argue anymore.

“Whatever,” you hang up.

You can’t do this anymore. You need to get out of here. Not that you didn’t think of it before but you can’t afford anything else. Your rent control is the only thing keeping you under a roof. You’ve already switched jobs, just to get away from him. There isn’t that much else up there.

You drag yourself through the shadows and sit on the bed. You exist in darkness. You don’t turn on the lights so he can’t see in. You keep the curtains shut. You only leave for work and always take a different exit, never the same route; not always the bus, not always the train.

And friends? What are those? Most of them took his side, said you were throwing around false accusations, and the others accused you of being obsessed. The single coworker you confided in told you to leave town. Wow, well, if you could afford that, you wouldn’t stay in this building with the grinding radiator and rattling fridge.

You look at your phone.

‘I see you.’ The message was sent while you were on the call with emergency services. Several more followed. ‘I just want to talk’; ‘you look so pretty’; ‘please, I love you’.

As you read each text, you can hear the last conversation you had with Jake. He’s a relic of your former friend group, the very reason for your dejection. It’s almost funny how the rest just cut ties but he won’t let go.

It all started with a kiss. A kiss and rejection. New Years Eve and the clock counted down. You didn’t expect him to turn and plant one on you and when you shoved him away, that dreamy look in his eyes turned to fury as you fled. New Year, New you, right?

The new you is scared and paranoid and tired. So, so tired.

You get up and move the chair in front of the door. Just in case. You retreat, keeping your phone close, and grab the extendable baton from the table. You sleep with both, if you can sleep. That night, you won’t.

You settle in on the couch. You don’t use the bedroom. You need an easy escape. You sit back against the cushions and scroll on your phone. It might be hopeless, but you trawl the job board and the apartment boards. You might find a nugget of gold in all the pebbles.

You sign into the job site and see the red dot in the corner. It’s always a marketing promo. ‘Recommending’ a job you don’t qualify for or an invitation for an MLM scheme. It’s a joke. You don’t understand how anyone ever gets a job but everyone seems to have a better one than you.

You tap the inbox to make the red dot go away. You hate it floating in the corner of your vision. Your thumb twitches and hovers over the screen as you read the subject line. Hm.

‘Caretaker Position: Relocation Required’.

Well, you don’t really have the experience for caretaking but the second part sounds intriguing. You hesitate. It’s too good to be true. You’re sure there will be a list of qualifications longer than your resume.

Tap.

You open up the message.

‘Hello,

We’ve reviewed your profile and determined you might be a match for this position.

New Applicants Welcome.

We are seeking an individual to undertake caretaking duties for a property. This role would include the following:

Lawn care

General cleaning and maintenance

Manual labour requiring lifting of up to 60lbs

24/7 tenancy within property (no rent for chosen candidate)

Subsidized relocation

Training on-site

If you are seeking a fresh start and to learn new skills which can take you into future roles in a custodial or caretaking capacity, this is the job for you. To apply, please submit brief profile and resume for consideration.

Applicants are subject to a background check.’

You bite down on the inside of your lip. It sounds interesting but you’re not sure you’re a good fit. It’s so general, too. Would you need to know how to deal with electrical issues? Your apartment sure has taught you a lot about dealing with broken utilities, but your formal training is lacking.

And it’s a big thing. You want to get out of here but it’s still daunting in comparison to your current predicament.

You tense as you hear footsteps in the hall. You brace yourself and lower the phone, staring at the door. The thumping on the other side makes you flinch. Your heart races.

“Baby, I know you’re awake. Please. I just wanna talk.” He keeps tapping. “If you just talked to me, we could figure this out.”

You shudder and look at your phone again. You stare at the big blue button; ‘Apply Now’.

“I forgive you. For lying about me. Everyone knows you were just upset. I’ll tell them all it was just a misunderstanding…” he begs as the door shakes in the frame, the chair knocking against the handle. All that stands between you and him are those hinges and that flimsy piece of furniture.

You press down on the button. It can’t get worse than this.

[wokeupinmars]

“I'll go wherever you go”

Pairing: Sierra Six / Court Gentry x Reader

Summary: Tender truths come to light when noisy neighbors cause Six and Claire to seek refuge at your place.

Warning: None. This part contains crumbs of Six and Reader's previous relationship and insight into the domestic life they're beginning to lead with Claire.

Word Count: 3K

Author’s Note: This is the second part of the Playing House series.

Part One: The Pretty Nurse Who Lives Down the Hall

Part Three: The End of Beginning

Please comment and/or reblog if you enjoyed this!!

RG Masterlist

Your body moved on autopilot, working four twelve-hour shifts this week had drained you completely. All you wanted was a nice hot shower, followed by eating whatever leftovers were in the fridge and then hitting the sack. 

The last thing you were expecting the night to bring was company but when you spot Six and Claire at your door, you knew a wrench would be thrown in your plans. You remove your headphones, “Everything alright?” you ask, once you get close enough to see the dark circles under both of their eyes.

“Oh thank god,” Claire breathes out, leaning into you immediately. You instinctively wrap your arm around her and look at Six, your eyes filled with concern, “What’s wrong?” 

Whatever it was you knew it couldn’t be good. A few months had passed since they had moved in and while the three of you had fallen into some sort of routine, you knew Six was still reluctant to lean on you. Weekly dinners, movie nights, running any and all errands together, as well as spending the majority of your free time with them did little to chip away at his self-reliant nature. It wasn’t something you held against him, you knew him well enough to know that it would take some time for him to adjust to having someone willing to help him carry the weight of the world.

So for him to show up at your door like this, it must have been serious. He lets out an exasperated sigh and nods his head towards the door, “Can we sleep here tonight?”

“Of course,” you reply, stepping away from Claire to fish through your bag for your key and open the door. Claire walks through the door first, b-lining for your couch, you stand aside and wait for Six to enter but he motions for you to go in first, “Can you please clue me in on what’s going on? You both look like you could collapse on the spot.”  

Six locks the door and glances back at you, “You know those two guys that live next door to us?” 

“The college students?” you ask.

He nods, “Well one of them went away for the weekend, and the other has had his girlfriend over the entire time. They’re either arguing or having loud makeup sex.” 

You grimace at that. “It’s so much worse than that,” Claire grumbles out, “The people that live above us decided that 2 a.m. is the ideal time to rearrange furniture.” You give them both a sympathetic look and gesture for Six to sit in the armchair. He leans his head back, allowing himself to sink into the chair. 

“You should’ve texted me. You guys could’ve crashed here since I’ve been working the night shift,” you tell him as you set your bag down.

He knew you had been working the night shift for the past four days, your work schedule was something you always kept him updated on. “I didn’t want to bother you,” he murmurs, “his roommate was supposed to come back, I thought it would be over…nothing could have prepared to hear a three-way.”  

Your eyes widen at that, “Good god.”

Claire begins to lull away, you crouch down to face level and rub her back gently, “Can you stand up for me, Sweetheart?” She nods her head and sits up, pausing for a moment, and then pushes herself up onto her feet. You guide her down the hall towards your room, letting her crash there. She looks up at you, her eyes barely open as you lay her down on your bed, “Thank you,” she whispers, as you unfold and drape one of your blankets over her. 

“You’re welcome, baby.” 

— 

“She okay?” his voice was gravelly as he spoke. 

“Out like a light,” you assure him. You set down extra pillows and blankets on the coffee table and start taking the cushions off the couch, “You okay with sharing the pull-out with me?” 

He helps you pull the metal handle and unfold the bed, which makes a creaking noise that pierces the room, “And you’ll behave?” 

“Haven’t I always been a good girl for you?” you tease, prompting Six to give you a look that you can only interpret as his sleepy attempt at a glare. 

You leave him in the living room, heading to the bathroom to take a much-needed shower. The hot water beats against your skin, the exhaustion you had been feeling for the past few days seeping into your bones. You try to let your muscles relax and relieve all the tension stored in your body but you’re still a bundle of nerves. 

Six was still awake when you got out of the shower, “Strawberries,” he murmurs.

“What?” you question, walking into the kitchen, opening the fridge, and scanning the shelves for something to eat. Six trails in behind you, “Strawberries,” he repeats, “You have strawberries on your shorts.”

Your lips form an ‘o’ as you put what remains of the pasta you made a few days ago to heat. The dish was steaming when you took it out of the microwave and set it on the table. You didn’t think Six would sit at the table with you but much to your surprise, he does. You press play on your answering machine and listen your voicemails instead of waiting idly, for the food to cool. Most of them were unknown numbers, your typical scam calls, the one that did catch your attention was from your former real estate agent. The message itself began playing halfway through, it was clear she hadn’t waited for the beep to start talking, “...I know you wanted to stop looking but the asking price for the house on 73rd you liked dropped by a lot…” her voice starts to break up and the voicemail stops. 

Six raises his eyebrows at you, “I didn’t know you were looking at houses.” The confusion of his voice made it seem like more of a question than a statement.

You shrug it off, “That was before.” You feel the side of the container with the back of your hand to determine if it has cooled down enough to finally eat and sink your fork into the pasta, “You know you can go to sleep right?” 

He nods, crossing his arms over his chest, “I know…why’d you stop looking at houses?”

You were blowing on the forkful of pasta before bringing it up to your mouth, you held up a finger, telling him to give you a second as you ate. “Why do you think?” you answer. 

A quiet hum leaves his lips, “Left the job after they hired you to take me out and now this…I’m starting to think you’ve got a soft spot for me.” You scoff at that and point your fork at him, “In your dreams.” 

“If only you knew.” 

You recognize quickly that he’s probably far too tired to realize the shift in his demeanor. This felt like old times, back when the two of you would shack up in between jobs, it was nice and you wanted to revel in it but just like then, you knew it was only temporary, that you would have to let go even if you didn’t want to.

It wasn't until he started speaking again that you realized you had gone quiet, “Are Claire and I actually the reason you stopped looking at houses?” 

“Yeah,” you don’t even bother denying it, “I kept telling myself it was just until you guys settled in. We’ve walked away from each other so many times before, I figured it would be no different this time around. I guess I didn’t think I would get attached…but now…I make sure I never have a night shift on Fridays so I don’t miss a game night, keep three different kinds of hot sauce in my pantry, and have essentially half of Claire’s things scattered around the apartment.” 

He goes quiet and you’re almost certain you had gotten a little too touchy-feely for his liking, but then he starts to talk, “No one else uses the mug you always use when you come over. It's just yours...and Claire doesn’t actually like tea, we only buy it ‘cause we know it’s your favorite.” 

You smile softly at that, your heart warms at the small gesture, “You do?” 

“We do,” he confirms.

—

You finished eating and opted to leave the dish to soak, telling yourself it was a problem to be dealt with in the morning. You head back into the bathroom to brush your teeth and complete your skincare routine. 

You watch in the mirror as he appears in the doorway a few minutes later, watching as you complete the steps of your skincare routine, “You know I’ve already got a shadow right?”

Six sighs heavily, stepping into the bathroom, and leans against the counter, just observing you, “What is that?” 

“Moisturizer,” you answer, working the product into your skin. “Want some?” 

He didn’t have a chance to reply when you pumped some of the cream onto your fingers and started applying it to his face, “Is it supposed to be cold?” his hand rested on your waist. You shush him and rub the moisturizer into his skin.

He lets out a quiet “Thank you” and waits for you to leave the bathroom before following suit. 

“You want me to build a pillow wall between us?” you tease as you lay down. You expect him to lay beside you but he just stands at the foot of the pull-out, you pat the spot beside you, “Why are you just standing there? Come to lay down.” 

“Move over,” he instructs.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Why? What’s wrong with that side?”

“Nothing,” he states. You’re about to press further to understand what the issue is but he answers your question before you even have the opportunity to ask it, “This side,” he motions to the side you were lying on, “Is closer to the door.” 

You huff out a sigh and reluctantly roll over onto the other side. He was right, the side you laid on was closest to the door. You didn’t think it was that big of a deal but you knew better than to try and fight him on this one. He flicks off the lights and waits a few seconds to let both of your eyes adjust to the darkness. The springs creak under both of you as he gets in. Silence fills the room as the two of you lay beside each other. You turn on your side to face him, only to find he’s already looking at you. “I missed you, you know? Don’t think I’ve said that yet,” you say quietly.

Six doesn’t say anything at first instead he stretches his hand out and rests it on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze. You could tell he was testing the waters, you weren’t expecting any other kind of acknowledgment beyond that but you were pleasantly surprised when he snaked his arm under you and pulled you to his chest by your waist, “Miss you too,” his words coming out in a low rumble.

You lift your head, “Yeah?” you ask, unable to suppress your grin. 

His hand comes up and pushes your head back down to his chest, “Don’t let it get your head,” he mutters. You let out a breathy laugh and zeroed in on the loud thumps of his heartbeat under your ear. 

You soak in the moment, you know that it isn’t going to last forever, but you allow yourself to indulge in the comfort that being held by him brings anyway.

According to the glowing numbers of your cable box, only ten minutes had passed. The tranquil silence that washes over the two of you combined with the feeling of his hand rubbing up and down your back soothes you, “Court?” You whisper. 

He lets out a groan, letting you know he’s listening. You take a deep breath, “I know it's a bit outlandish but if I did move would you and Claire come with me?” 

Your words hang in the air for a second, ‘Would you want us to?” You could hear his heartbeat pick up ever so slightly as he spoke. 

“Yes,” you affirm, shifting and nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the faint scent of his body wash. 

“I'll go wherever you go,” his voice hushed,“We can talk about it more in the morning with Claire, she’ll be ecstatic.” A content hum escapes your lips, it was the answer you wanted to hear. You inhale deeply and let your body completely relax against him on the exhale. You stop trying to fight off your drowsiness and let your heavy eyes close. There’s a delicate pressure against your forehead before you finally doze off. A kiss.

— 

The repeated clicks of a camera are what woke you up. Your face was smushed against Six’s chest, and your eyes fluttered open and immediately squeezed shut when you were blinded by a flash. Claire’s giggle rings in your ears. You sit up and rub your eyes. You blink repeatedly before your vision becomes clear. Claire was standing on one of your dining chairs, her Polaroid camera in hand, “Good morning,” she chirped.

“Morning kiddo,” your voice was hoarse as you spoke. You stretch and let out a yawn. You turned to the side to look back at Six’s sleeping form and brushed a few strands of hair that fanned across his forehead.

“I’ve never seen him like this before…so at ease,” she whispers, stepping down from the chair. A soft smile appears on your face as you continue to look at him, “Probably been a while since he’s gotten the chance to sleep in,” you say, matching her volume.

Claire taps her chin with her pointer finger, “Sure…but don’t you think it might be for another reason?” You knew what she was getting at but you chose to dismiss it, “Nope, definitely the sleep.”

“And not who he’s sleeping with?” she questions, tilting her head. You avert your eyes away from Six and back to her, “How do you feel about pancakes for breakfast?” It was a terrible attempt at changing the topic but when her eyes lit up at the mention, you knew you were in the clear. “With chocolate chips?” You nod and instruct her to go brush her teeth, letting her know that there are extra toothbrushes in the cabinet under the sink.

You wait until you hear the door to the bathroom close before saying aloud, “I know you’re awake,” as you continue to play with his hair. He opened one eye, peeking up at you before rolling over onto his stomach, lazily draping his arm over your lap. If you had to guess it was likely that he’d been awake from the second Claire dragged the dining chair from the kitchen and into the living room. 

With a soft pat, you lift his arm just enough for you to throw your legs over the side of the pullout and stand. “You want chocolate chips in your pancakes too?” He makes a noise which you take as a yes. 

Claire was out of the bathroom and eager to help by the time you were adding the wet ingredients into the dry, she stood beside you as you focused on getting rid of any lumps, “Can I add the chocolate chips?” 

You point to the bag, silently indicating it’s time. She sprinkles the chips into the bowl of batter, watching from over your shoulder as you fold them into the mixture. “So you’re off for the rest of the—” she starts only to cut herself off when Six enters the kitchen, “Nice of you to join us in the land of the living.” 

“It’s too early to deal with you two,” he mumbles, clasping his fingers together and holding them over his head to stretch. His shirt rises and you’re able to catch a glimpse of his happy trail. He tries to reach his hand into the bag of chocolate chips Claire’s holding but she's quick to slap his hand away and hold them away from him and scolds him, “You haven’t even brushed your teeth!” 

—

Claire knew something was up just from the way the two of you sat across. “You guys look like you’re about to tell me you sent the family dog to live on a farm upstate and that he’s in a better place now,” she jokes, uncapping the bottle of syrup and dousing the stack in them. 

You and Six exchange glances before he clears his throat, “We do actually want to talk to you about something.” The firmness in his voice makes her wary, a worrisome expression spreads across her face, “Now I’m nervous.” 

“How do you feel about moving again?” The question makes her slump into her seat, “Why? We’ve been doing so good here, I like it here.” 

“You like her,” Six corrects. The corner of your mouth curves up when he says that, you knew Claire had grown attached to you but it felt good to hear. “And you don’t?” Claire counters, “I don’t understand, we both like it here…we have someone here, why would we leave?” 

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “We should have practiced this….I’m moving and—”

The frown on her face deepens as she interrupts you, “You’re moving?” 

“I am, but,” you emphasize the word, “Six and I talked about the possibility of you two moving with me. Same area, just out of these crummy apartments and into a house.” You watch as Claire perks up, “Move in with you? For real?” 

Six nudges you with his elbow, his nonverbal way of saying “I told you so.” He nods his head in confirmation. Claire is beaming. “So you’re okay with the three of us living together?” you ask her.

She shakes her head ‘yes’ profusely, “This is great, we get to live with you, I got pancakes, and Buster’s well.” Six’s eyebrows crease and confusingly repeats the name. “The family dog? God, Six, you gotta keep up,” she retorts, cutting into the pancakes, a grin graces her face when takes a deep breath and sighs.

—

Part Three: The End of Beginning

[ken-dom]

currently thinking about six (maybe reader and him live together, he still goes on missions though) and maybe they've only slept together a handful of times, and one night the reader's just really in the mood but doesn't know how to ask for it/doesn't wanna be a bother, but since six is trained to pick up on the smallest shifts in someones behavior/energy, he kinda figures it out? just pure dominance i guess 🤯

Anon, I am SO sorry it's taken me forever to get to this ask! I wanted to give it some thought because it sounded so delicious, and I'm not sure why but tonight I just felt in a Sixy mood and a little imagine spilled out. I hope you enjoy it!

Sense

∘₊✧ Sierra Six x gn!reader drabble ∘₊✧ 300+ words

∘₊✧ NSFW, kissing, teasing, very soft dom Six vibes, suggestive but not explicit

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

One moment, you're sitting on the sofa watching a movie tucked safe beneath Six's arm wondering if that’s his eyes you can feel on you, the next he's flipped you onto your back, the weight of his body on yours both comforting and exciting.

'Yeah?' he asks simply, raising an eyebrow, his eyes gazing into yours expectantly.

'Yeah!- I mean... yeah, but, how did you- you- hmmnn....'

Six simply chuckles at your eager questioning, which quickly declines into a low whine as he leans down and places a gentle kiss to your throat, feeling you squirm beneath him as your fingertips drive hard into his shoulders.

'Because,' he slurs, hot and wet against your skin, 'I could sense it.'

He rolls his hips, his heavy, hard cock dragging deliciously over your aching core through far too many layers of fabric.

You moan, loud, and he huffs out another satisfied laugh.

'You could sense it?' you manage, voice and breath shaky.

'Is there nothing that will keep you quiet for even a minute?' he shakes his head, smiling to himself as he pulls up to press his lips to yours instead.

His hair falls over down over his face and it makes him even sexier somehow. He catches you checking him out and averts his gaze, bashful at how much you desire him, focussing back on answering your burning questions.

'And yeah, I can sense it. I'm trained to pick up on the slightest shift in a room, mood included. My best guess is that you're feeling horny, and, no offence, baby, but you're hardly subtle with that at the best of times.'

You slap at his shoulder playfully, scrunching your face up in mock annoyance.

'So, I can almost always tell when you want me even when you have no idea how to ask. But what I can't do is read your mind. So...' Six's voice turns husky and he licks his lips as his eyes rake over your clothed form. 'Where do you want me to start?'

[hederasgarden]

Ryan Gosling Character Masterlist

The Grey Man

Oneshots

Safe With Me (Sierra Six x F!Reader | Mature | 2.7K)

Six is a hard man to read up until the moment he isn’t.

Daylight (Sierra Six x F!Reader | Explicit | 1K)

You spend an early morning in bed with Six after he returns from a mission.

Drabbles

The Signal (Sierra Six x F!Reader | Gen | 706) You take pity on Six after watching him suffer through a number of terrible dates.

Operation Elevator (Sierra Six x F!Reader | Gen | 780)

Claire plays matchmaker when she realizes Six need a little help wooing their new neighbor.

Tender Loving Care (Sierra Six x F!Reader | Explicit | 900)

You help Six relax after a hard mission.

Dom AU (Sierra Six x F!Reader | Mature | 500)

You reach out the famous Dom Sierra Six to explore your submissive side and work on your anxiety and confidence issues. 

Just Pretend (Sierra Six x F!Reader | Mature | 780)

For a moment, Six thinks about how his life could be different. 

Headcanons

Wall sex with the gloves HC 

Sierra Six + Kinks

Sierra Six + Kinks Part 2

Sierra Six Housewife Kink

Sierra Six + housewife!reader drabble

Sierra Six with a breeding kink

What kind of job would Six get after he retires?

Overstimulation Kink

Eating you out and body worship with Six

Six taking care of a partner with depression/anxiety

Valentine's Day with Sierra Six

Crazy Stupid Love

Oneshots

Top Shelf (Jacob Palmer x Plus Size!F!Reader | Gen | 1.3K)

When your tinder date turns out to be a dumpster fire of a person, your evening is rescued by a handsome stranger.

Headcanons

Valentine's Day with Jacob

Drive

Need (Driver x F!Reader | Explicit | 600)

He’s quiet, even when he’s fucking you.

Blade Runner 2049

Oneshots

Interlinked (Officer K x F!Reader | Mature | 5.8 K)

Stepping in to help K is instinct, but what comes after is a choice, one that’s easy to make.

A soul in woe (Officer K x F!Reader | Mature | 571)

Prompt - Forced proximity, forbidden romance, and soulmates who can’t be together.

Headcanons

Valentine's Day with Officer K

The Fall Guy

First Kiss (Colt Seavers x F!Reader | Mature | 400)

Your first kiss with Colt is different than you imagined.

Ocean Eyes (Colt Seavers x F!Reader | Mature | 536)

You and Colt share a moment on the beach. 

A picture is worth a thousand words (Colt Seavers x F!Reader | Gen | 367)

Prompt - Bodyguard AU + "YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!"

The Wedding (Colt Seavers x F!Reader | Gen | 367)

Prompt - Fake dating trope with an old childhood friend of his which turns into forced proximity of having to share a bed.

Headcanons

Colt Seavers tying you up

♡Main Masterlist♡

[aswanlake]

Six & T ; Just Another Thursday

pairing: Bucky Barnes x child reader (platonic)

word count: 3.7K

content warnings: hurt/comfort, canon violence, cursing, fighting, physical illnesses, referring to Bucky as “robot” and “six”, friendly banter, overprotective Bucky, medical inaccuracies, reader is kinda British, no use of y/n, little sprinkle of angst, Captain America Brave New World Spoilers!

synopsis: (Basically the Grey Man but it’s Bucky Barnes because I love him and mourning the loss of Sebastian not getting an oscar.) Bucky, needing a break from work, agrees to a security detail for an Uncle from Sam and Sarah’s family. He assumes it will be pretty easy and a good break from the work he doesn’t want to do but actually ends up enjoying the job. What happens when he has to actually protect you?

Bucky Barnes was used to the murmurs and uncomfortable glares he got from the congress members, the government never fully trusted him despite allowing him to run as a congress member. It wasn't until he was actually voted into office that he was aware why, they were using him. Holding his pardon from his crimes as the winter soldier over his head, despite the fact that Steve had already fought for his charges to have been dropped completely because he wasn’t aware of what he was doing at all. Sam never agreed with the way that the government was carrying it out but with the current president being in jail and he being at the root of the problem the both of them just had to fall in line for a little bit so they didn’t end up in the same cell as him. It was uncomfortable and irritating, the reminder of his nightmares being held over his head everyday and brought up at every mistake or small hint of aggression.

He needed a break, a vacation, just a minute of time to himself so that he would be able to breathe and Sam’s Sister offered him something light. He always had a soft spot for her, he was a nice younger woman, never looked at him weirdly or brought up his past and gave a small smile every time she saw him despite being so stern with her own kids. An uncle of hers and Sam’s needed a new security detail for his niece, a very simple task, she couldn’t have been a day over thirteen and the most supervision that was needed was to ensure that she didn’t eat ice cream for dinner. Besides, it was in a different country, and he would have to stay in the estate which was pretty huge, so it seemed like a win-win, however Bucky didn’t like kids. He didn’t trust himself around them, despite being sure that he wasn’t under Hydra’s control anymore, kids just weren’t his forte. However he still agreed, it was a simple protection case, a few months of protecting a child shouldn’t be so hard right? And it was a friend of his, he couldn’t have just said no, had it been anyone else he might have but this was Sam.

“Now I’m going to be gone for a little bit. A new case came up, it will be a few months. Can you handle yourself?” Your uncle wasn’t an idiot, you were young but he taught you how to handle yourself at least a little bit. His line of work was dangerous and the people he worked for and against could snap at any moment so he wanted to make sure that you could at least put up a fight and leave a trace if anything were to happen to you. “I’ll be fine. You hired me a babysitter with a metal arm. I don't know how anything could go wrong.” You responded, thick sarcasm running through the sentence as you looked up from your bowl of ice cream, spoon now digging aimlessly into the dessert. Bucky stood in the background, hovering like a creep, his hair long and stubble grown out enough to where he should be late forties, however his body barely looked late thirties. With a kiss to the crown of your head, he gave Bucky the rundown. You weren't really allowed to use technology, safety reasons and what not so that you couldn’t be tracked. However, occasionally there would be a few hours where you would be allowed to use the tablet or computer but mainly that was it.

The first night after your uncle left was awkward, he stood in the corner of the rather huge dining room while you ate. Every now and then you would glance up from the computer in front of you, absentmindedly playing a random show you had turned on, wasn’t necessarily interesting but it was good background noise and was enough to keep you entertained until you had to sleep. “Are you just gonna stand there the whole time? In silence? Like some shadow or something?” A noodle from your meal hanging from the fork that lay just before your mouth, Bucky glanced over but didn’t answer. You got through a few more bites before speaking up again. “What’s your name, shadow?” “Six.” He answered shortly, now taking a few steps towards the table but still just standing before you. He wasn’t sure why he chose that name, it’s not like he was in danger if he told you his real name and yet he just came out. (What an odd name) You looked at him weirdly before going back to your meal, what could someone even say to that? His eyes glanced down at the watch on his wrist before looking back up at you, his facial features were always hardened, he never truly looked relaxed or calm. It didn’t freak you out, it was just a little freaky. “You should start to get ready for bed. It’s almost eleven.” How irritating, was he going to be like this the entire time?

All you were going to do was lay down, not even go to bed. With a sigh you looked back up at him, finishing up your meal and swallowing before asking your question. “Can I play a record before I go to sleep?” He looked at you and for once it finally looked like he had relaxed. “Go on T don’t make it long.” Your head turned at the nickname, he knew your name so there was no reason for him to call you “T”. “T?” “Where did that come from?” He chuckled, for once in the twenty four hours you had met him, he smiled and laughed , you were sure you were never seeing that again. “It’s short for Three. It took you only three hours to annoy me.” Your face turned at the reasoning, your nickname, his tone was obviously sarcastic however you still rolled your eyes in response to it. “I think you just really like numbers as names, Six.” He made a small “mhm” noise while his eyes nodded towards your room, with another eye roll you got up, heading to your room to pull a vinyl out of its sleeve and place the record onto your player as you turned it up to medium volume. A minute into the song, Bucky knocked on your door, telling you to turn it down. This guy sucks.

A month later he finds you laying upon his jacket, while outside, lounging in a chair by the pool. “Excuse me” He states moments later before turning back around. “Looking for your jacket? Looks like I sat on it.” A mischievous grin playing on your face as you stared him down. His eyes immediately find it beneath you and he groans, hand twitching behind him to just pick you up and grab it and then he notices the phone in your hand, something you weren’t allowed to have. “Is that a secure phone?” You feign ignorance, staring at the screen a moment before turning to show him, making it aware that you weren't paying attention. “Just got the high score. I had a lot of time to practice after the operation.” You had an operation on your heart a few months ago, just something to ensure that you were ok and that the medicine you were taking was still working and wasn’t killing you. “They made me stay in bed.” You spoke with a hint of annoyance, there was never really anything to do after operations. Bucky stayed quiet which only irritated you, it was his nature but you at least wished that he would keep a conversation going. “How long did they make you stay in bed for?” You fake his tone and rather heavy American accent for the question before responding to yourself. “Quite a long time. Several weeks, actually.” “Oh, I hope you’re ok.” “Better now Six, thanks for asking.” Keeping the fake conversation going. “How’s your time been here? Enjoying the grounds?” “Oh, they’re lovely. I like to walk in circles and stare at my shoes.”

He ignored everything you said, still looking at his jacket. “Can I get my jacket?” Begrudgingly, you hand it over, not before mentioning his arm- not the metal one. The tattoo on his wrist, “Taking All The Stupid With You”. “Nice tattoo, where’d you get it? Prison?” “Yeah, actually.” A fake gasp escaped your mouth, hands covering your lips before you slumped back in your chair. “I’m shocked.” He began to walk away, this man truly was terrible at conversations, with a groan you once again realized you were going to be the only thing keeping this very small conversation going. “What’s it mean, the writing?” He shrugged. “Oh it’s, you know. A quip between guys.” “What guy?” At this point you had pulled off of the edge of the chair, this was the most you two had talked in the month he had been here. “Just a guy in my life, trying to keep our friendship together.” “Why?” “I don’t know, because he liked me?” “He liked you? Did he need friends?” You didn’t know much of anything about “Six” or “Bucky” so anything you could get out of him was good even if it was a weird conversation about him becoming friends with a guy and then getting his words tattooed. “Yes and no, we just clicked, we were good friends and worked well together. I think.” “Was he a good friend?” “Probably.” “Were you a good friend?” “Probably not.” “So why were you friends?” “You ask a lot of questions.” Your arms crossed as you smiled at him, he was still entertaining you and he was surprisingly good company. “You’re quite the conversationalist.” You threw back sarcastically, hoping he would catch it in your voice and very obvious expression. “I’m gonna get back to work.” And just like that he tried to leave again, did he hate you or something? You couldn’t figure out what was dragging him down to the point where he ignored you at any given moment except the ones where he was forced to be in your presence. “Hey.” You called out to him, hoping he would turn, and as the second surprise of the afternoon, he actually did. “Did you ever see your friend again?” He laughed, it was more like a hearty chuckle that was short lived but it was something. With his posture fixed once more he turned his back to you as he answered. “I’ll let you know.”

Four months after that, he had become more comfortable around you. Enough to actually make jokes with you and enough for you to call him by just “Six”, granted he was going to be called that regardless because you didn’t actually know his name. He was doing a routine check, flashing his light outside to see if anyone was there and checking the cameras. You were finishing getting ready for bed, pajamas on and teeth brushed, however as you reached for your vinyl your body felt heavy. Your limbs began to hurt and a pain in your chest was growing by the second, air became a luxury, as if it was flying out of your lungs every time you tried to breathe it in. Something was wrong. Using the wall as a crutch, you did your best to get out of your room, just barely making it to the hallway before you saw him. “Mr. Six-” voiced strained as you gasped for air that kept fleeting you. “Something’s wrong.” The last thing you were able to get out before your body hit the floor and your eyes started to close, Bucky ran over to you at a speed you were unaware he had, barely seconds after you had hit the floor he was holding you in his arms, cradling you into his chest. Bits and pieces were all you remember, him placing you in the car and the movement of the car being well past the speed limit of the area, you knew where you were headed– your uncle’s private hospital that he paid to be built close to the house in case something like this were to happen. The caretaker you had was great but she was only equipped for so many things and this was not one of them. Gasping for air as he carried you into the hospital, the chill of the area being combated by the pajamas you still wore, body shaking from both the chill and over exertion of trying to keep you alive. He’d given you a hoodie to help with the shaking but it was taken off a little while after by a doctor, your hand helplessly reaching out for it before passing out.

It was a terrifying two hours of silence but when you woke you were hooked up to pretty much every tube known to man while Bucky stood outside of your hospital window. He looked as stoic as whenever you had met him but the glint in his eye was different, he was truly worried about you. It was funny and also nice to see the “robot” with actual feelings, a nurse came in a moment later, stealing your attention from off of the window. You looked terrible, a heart monitor attached to what felt like every part of your body under the hospital gown, the chill from the materials not making the temperature any better. The thin blanket barely doing anything, your hands laying in your lamp after restlessly trying to pull the thin sheet over your body only to be left with more anguish than warmth. The nurse turned up your morphine dosage at the sign of your body still shaking and sick appearance, despite it being just a small tremor she wanted to be sure. “Can he come in with me? I’m. . . I’m scared.” The nurse sighed, pulling up the covers from your bed to layer them over your arms and went back to checking your vitals. “Not yet, I’m sorry sweetheart. However perhaps in the next thirty minutes he can be here. You’ll be home soon. I promise.” Afterwards, she left to discuss what was going on with Bucky. “Tell him there was a programming glitch, we were able to repair it, non-invasive. Gave everyone a bit of a scare but it’s alright.” His eyes finally left your sickly body to look at the woman talking to him. “So this won’t happen again?” She shook her head with a proud smile. “It shouldn’t.” His eye twitched of pure annoyance but it wasn’t entirely her fault. “It shouldn’t or it won’t?” “It won’t.” With that he finally glanced back at you, this time your eyes actually meeting as you gave him a peace sign, a pained but goofy expression gracing your face. He simply nodded, not saying anything to the action, not even a smile or a laugh.

You two had finally gotten into a rhythm, once again at the table during dinner; however he had gotten more comfortable to the point where he could finally sit next to you, sometimes watching what you were watching or doing a crossword puzzle. An “old person activity” as you called it but he didn’t answer anytime you called it that, just rolling his eyes and continuing. “You feeling better?” He asked, a nod towards your incident just a few hours ago. “Just another Thursday.” You spoke dryly, digging another spoonful into your ice cream. “Uncle says this is the best medicine-” You motioned towards your ice cream, it basically melted at this point. “Tend to agree.” Once more, taking a bite and finishing your bowl of ice cream. “He's a very smart man.” “Only family I got.” “Closest thing to family I got too.” You smiled, turning your head in his direction. He didn’t seem like a friend person but you didn’t expect him to also not be a family person. Sam mentioned him a few times but you thought it was along the lines of taking him in like a stray dog, not another family member but more the merrier. “Maybe that kind of makes us family.” He smiled but said nothing, he was so annoying when he did that. With a yawn you started to turn back to your ice cream before he spoke. “You should go to bed.” It was odd of him to actually remind you of your bed time at this point so you looked at him weirdly, what you didn’t know is that every single camera overlooking the estate had just gone offline, which was a problem. The estate was huge and the land that surrounded it was even larger, so he knew that he needed the cameras and if they were offline then that means that someone else turned them off because he knew for a fact that he didn’t. Your head nodded towards him staring at his computer screen, you could see him looking at something through his eyeballs but he didn’t say anything about it and you thought maybe it was the reason behind his weird outburst about your bedtime.

You didn’t get a time to respond as the caretaker hovered over you, basically forcing you to get up even without touching you. “Alright little one, you heard the number. Let’s go.” You giggled, it was still so weird hearing someone refer to themselves as a number. “Night Robot.” You called out before turning to walk away from him. “Goodnight T. You can play another record tonight. Turn it all the way up.” Excitement filled your body immediately, now walking just a bit faster to your room than before to find a record to play., he never let you do that, it was always supposed to be played super low. Sometimes he would let it get a pinch higher but never would he let you turn it all the way up. Your hand pulled out “Silver Bird”, a song from the 70’s, if you were being honest that was all your taste consisted of. Your uncle was old and never really bought new vinyls unless he really liked the artist which was rare, you knew of some popular artist because of social media ; Taylor Swift, Sabrina Carpenter, Olivia Rodgrio, Lady Gaga, Bruno Mars and even rap artists like Doechii or Kendrick Lamar but you had never truly listened to anything by any of these people because you couldn’t. Your tablet could only play movies and shows or games where all the ads were non-existent so the only music you had was whatever was in your Uncle’s collection from a little while ago but you enjoyed it.

You placed the record onto the player and immediately turned it all the way up, turning towards the bathroom in your room. Bucky came to your door, once again doing his routine knock but this time he didn’t tell you to turn the music down, he just made sure your door was closed, all the way. Sometimes you tended to leave it cracked just so that Bucky could hear it a little bit because you knew he liked the music even whenever he tried to pretend like he didn’t. Barely a moment after Bucky had closed your door, the men had broken in, glass shattering from one of the windows towards the front of the house but you were none the wiser because of how loud your music was playing. Bucky was completely silent in his actions, every take down was with such precision and accuracy that every man didn’t even get a chance to fire their gun, the thing that caught your attention was the sound of grunting and the movement of his flashlight going haywire in the window. He should have just been checking the hallways but from the view it looked like he was waving it everywhere and doing god knows what else.

Tiptoeing towards your door you pulled it open to see the sight of a man falling to the floor after being hit by Bucky. “Six?” Your voice shaky as you looked at him, he stared at your wide eyes from the hallway, giving you a light nod as if he was asking if you were ok. “Are you ok?” Your hand was still shakily holding the door knob, ensuring that everything was ok, in response he actually smiled again, you hadn’t seen him do that since the day you met. “Yeah, broke a bowl.” He held up what looked to be a piece of something but it was so far away that you couldn’t see exactly what it was. Your eyes moved down to the pair of legs sticking out from the wall, unmoving, was it a person? Were they dead? Was that what he was doing? You didn’t get a chance to question it before he stepped in front of the body, covering it with his own. You finally looked back up at him, eyes wide. “You sure you’re alright?” He nodded. “Just another Thursday.” You nod but don’t move yet, body still frozen in shock. “You should go to bed. Goodnight T.” “Goodnight Six.” Finally you turned away from him, heading down the hallway to your room, terror being the only thing that kept you from looking back before you eventually reached your door. Turning back to look at Six as he shut it, his posture still as stiff as the day you met except this time.. he smiled.

[elusivewildflower]

The Compound Incident | Sierra Six x F!Reader

Pairing: Sierra Six x Agent! F! Reader

Summary: You and Six are sent on what was supposed to be a simple mission. Things go south and you get hurt.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning(s): Canon-typical violence for the Gray Man. Mentions of blood, gunfire, dead bodies, and gunshot wounds.

A/N: Another Goose Groupies writers' club submission! I paired the prompts "I had it under control. You didn't need to do that" and "I just thought you'd be lighter without all of that blood." from here.

Also, I think I'll make this a short lil series. I have another "incident" in mind for these two, but I'd love to hear some other suggestions!

“I had it under control. You didn’t need to do that.” Six scolded harshly as he applied pressure to the gunshot wound on your left shoulder, trying to staunch the bleeding.

“Under control, my ass.” You gritted out through the pain. “I just took a bullet for you.” You reminded him.

The mission was supposed to be simple. Get in, kill the target, get out. But things don’t always go according to plan. 

The first two steps went swimmingly, but it was the last one that got you into trouble. You knew you wouldn’t have much time to get out of the compound unnoticed, Six had estimated a total of ten minutes from the moment you stepped foot into the estate before guards would notice. Unfortunately for you, it was more like eight. 

Once one guard found you, it was a matter of seconds before others followed. There was no way for you to escape except to shoot your way out, and that only alerted more guards to your position. Six had remained outside for a scenario just like this. He’d be able to come in from behind and take them out along his way. 

His bail out attempt had been going well. The two of you met up near the center of the estate completely unharmed with over a dozen bodies dropped. Six was planning the best escape route, his head turned for a split second, when another guard appeared out of nowhere and fired off the first shot. You had just enough time to throw yourself in front of him and you did it without hesitation. 

You heard Six return the gunfire immediately as a searing bolt of pain radiated from your shoulder. The momentum from jumping in front of him and the force of the bullet caused you to lose your footing. Your other shoulder slammed into the cold tiles seconds before the side of your head followed, the impact causing your gun to slip from your hand. You let out a groan as pain shot through the other half of your body. It took a few blinks to clear your blurry vision as you fumbled around for your weapon instinctively.

And that’s how you got here. With Six knelt beside you, the palm of his gloved hand pressed tightly against your wound. 

Six merely shook his head at your reminder, knowing that continuing to argue would only waste precious time. It didn’t matter that he had heard the click of the enemy’s gun as he rounded the corner to your position and that he probably would’ve shot the guy first if you hadn’t thrown yourself at him. 

“Alright, we’ve gotta move. We’ll fix you up back at the safe house.” He ordered, wrapping a muscular arm around your waist to haul you back up to your feet. 

Six dropped his hold on you the second you were standing upright and you secretly missed the feeling as he began leading the way out of the estate. You fought through the pain that coursed through you, breathing in and out deeply with every step. It was a raw, grinding agony with every miniscule shift of your arm and you knew that the bullet was still buried deep in your shoulder. But there was no time to deal with it now. You kept your left arm tucked tightly against your torso, your right arm slightly extended as you carried your gun, prepared to fire at any moment. 

With Six’s guidance, it didn’t take long for you to escape the building. Now, you just had to make it out the same way that you came– by vaulting yourselves over the fence. There was a getaway car parked about half a mile away, hidden in some brush. Your shoulder throbbed at just the thought of climbing back over the fence and you fought back a grimace. This wasn’t going to be fun. But honestly, what part of your job was? 

Taking a moment to pause behind some trees and shrubbery, Six cast a glance towards you and then to your planned exit. “You good?” 

“I’ll survive.” You responded with a huff, keeping your eyes peeled for any other guards roaming the property. Your shirt was completely soaked with blood at this point and you needed to get something tied around it soon to help stop the bleeding. However, the first priority was getting the hell out of here. 

You realized that you must’ve killed the majority of the guards on the compound when you didn’t spot anyone nearby. Well, not anyone alive at least. Six had dropped the two that were manning the closed gates and four others on his way into the estate. Their bodies were scattered around the yard. 

Satisfied that the coast was clear, you two made a run for it. 

At that exact moment, two headlights came speeding down the drive and crashed straight through the metal gates. 

“Shit,” you both cursed and dove for cover as two men hopped out of the SUV and released rapid fire.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to hide behind except for shrubbery. As you returned fire, you felt another bullet sink into your skin. This time, it was your upper thigh. The burning hot pain caused your knee to give out and you collapsed to the ground for the second time with a cry. 

Your final shot hit its mark, though, as did Six’s. Both men and the driver were now just as dead as the others. 

Six cursed once again as he realized you were down, closing the gap between you. “Seriously?” He questioned, his tone somewhere between exasperation and worry.  

“Yeah, I must’ve pissed somebody off upstairs or something.” You muttered through gritted teeth jokingly, or as well as you could muster it. 

The new wound just barely lessened the pain you felt from your shoulder, but now you were losing twice the amount of blood. 

Six took off his belt in record time and wrapped it around your upper thigh, pulling it as tight as he could. You’d been hit closer to your outer thigh, which meant it shouldn’t have nicked your major artery. That was good news, at least. 

“We’re literal assassins. I’d say that ship sailed a long time ago.” He deadpanned. 

His response caused the corner of your mouth to upturn ever so slightly as you breathed out a short laugh. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here before you get shot for a third time.”  

You didn’t have time to try and stand on your own before Six’s arms slid beneath you. It took longer than you liked to realize that he was lifting you up into his arms. You’d been partnered with Six for, coincidentally, six months so far and this was new.  

A noise of surprise slipped from you before you could stop it, but you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. 

You took advantage of being so close to Six and finally noticed that he had been hit in the face with the butt of a gun, as dried blood streaked down from his temple. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and although you knew he could feel you staring at him, his eyes never met yours. They remained alert, scanning your surroundings as he made a quick get away through the gate that had just been blown open. 

It was only about a ten minute walk to where your getaway car had been parked, but you were sure that Six hadn’t planned on having to carry you to it. 

About half way there, you could tell that his breathing was becoming labored. His adrenaline was probably beginning to subside, making the task of carrying you more difficult. He was incredibly strong, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard work to carry someone. Especially after a mission. It made you feel bad, even as your own adrenaline wore off, making your wounds ache and the blood loss made your head feel fuzzy. 

“I can walk the rest of the way.” You offered after a moment, your guilt finally eating away at you. It wasn’t his fault that you got shot twice. Sure, you might’ve saved him from the first bullet, but the second was all you. You should’ve been better than that. 

Your words brought Six’s attention towards you for the first time since he picked you up. A tingle ran down your spine as his blue eyes met yours.

“No, I can carry you.” He stated firmly, before the corner of his lips curled up into the faintest smirk. 

“I just thought you’d be lighter without all of that blood.” 

Any ounce of guilt faded the second his teasing words reached your ears, a look of annoyance crossing your features as you scoffed. “You’re such an ass.” 

Six didn’t respond, didn’t even laugh, but you saw the way his eyes lit up mirthfully as he returned his focus to getting both of you to safety. 

[anitalenia]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓻𝓪𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓷 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑡𝑦𝑝𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑦'𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 . . . 𝙥𝙡𝙨 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 ₊˚⊹♡

— 𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙ 𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒚𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔, always feeling the need to show off and showcase his winnings and scores. He was egotistic and sadistic, finding pleasure in the gory details and intricate, bloody intertwining of a persons biological makeup. He was such the opposite of six in every way possible.

Loud, dramatic, unreasonable.

He didn’t care about anything… He didn’t care about anything except you, you and him and the twisted lovesick bubble you were entrapped in together. He was selfish and cruel, mean and downright psychopathic yet with you he was… mush. Just a lovey-dovey pile of hearts pooled around your feet that worshipped your every, perfect step.

You saw his more sweet, romantic side reserved quite literally just for you and it truly made you feel special. You knew he wasn't a good man yet he was the best man for you, and that's all that mattered. He was sweet to you, cherished you, protected you, worshipped you, doted on you and hung off every sweet wish that escaped your glossy lips.

This was a fact known amongst anyone who spoke his name, that yours was just a faint whisper behind it. You were his other half, the Queen of his hellish kingdom, the better part of him symbolized in the uncharacteristic love he had for you. You were off limits, untouchable, his and only his and... you loved it that way.

Lloyd, as so in touch with his bold personality, loved to shower you in rather extravagant bouquets and gifts more lavish than necessary. He was dramatic and exemplary in his own right yet there was one simplistic tradition he couldn’t stray from… roses.

Lloyd loved roses; pink roses, white roses, blue roses. But he especially loved the deep red ones, the rich color and smell of the most perfect flower that personified love and loyalty like no other and you deserved no less. Roses were classy, beautiful, timeless such as you.

He would buy you those teddy bear shaped roses wrapped in delicate red bows, the overly large bouquets wrapped in delicate pink paper and ribbon you needed two hands to carry. He would even leave that morning with a sweet kiss on your lips and an impish smile under his mustache, knowing he had left you 100 bouquets to wake up to just downstairs, each with a note saying one reason why he loved you.

There was absolutely nothing simple about this man. Spoiling you was a love language of his, a way he portrayed his undying love for you in the expensive roses and exotic flowers he gifted you with. He was extravagant and ensured his devotion to you was just as such to anybody who dare pry.

He wanted you to have the best of the best, spoiled you with the grandness of things in every aspect of your life so why should flowers and bouquets be any different? You only got the prettiest of flowers, the finest of tissue paper and ribbon, from the best flower shop he imported them from.

Really, you knew his showboating was just a sly scheme of his to show his goons that you belonged to him and that he was yours. You didn’t mind his possessiveness though, your shared mansion littered with the finest of glass and marble vases to hold all the roses he’d give you. Anyone could walk in and see that you were well taken care of.

Every room in every hall carried a pot of flowers, the prettiest of flowers, the prettiest of roses, and yet to him you were always the most beautiful thing amongst them all. You were delicate and gossamery, so fine and enchanting just like the roses he’d give you. And, just as with every rose comes its thorns, or in other words, Lloyd Hansen will always be right behind you in case anyone dare try and pluck your pretty petals.

He’d always be there to save you, protect you, keep you and your beauty safe from anything that try and take you from him. He gifted you with all the prettiest of roses but for him you were his rose, his pretty flower, his pretty girl.

Now, Lloyd Hansen wouldn’t be Lloyd Hansen if he didn’t gift you with a backyard full of your very own rose bushes now would he? So, that’s exactly what he did. A whole garden dedicated to you, pristine and pampered with the best gardeners so he could give you roses anytime he wanted. Not a moment went by when you weren’t being smothered with red red roses in the safety of his castle; the belle to his beast in all the best ways.

Yes, Lloyd Hansen was evil incarnate, ripping at the seams a hellish, bloodthirsty beast stuck in human flesh but with you… not with you. You were his humanity, his princess in the twisted fairy tale he orchestrated for you. You loved him and all his murderous tendencies, and he was completely, irrevocably, irreversibly in love with you.

As every hundredth rose could tell anyone who dare ask.

— 𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐗 / 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅, never one to spare a smile unless it was sarcastic and mean. But with you, his stony face and rigid exterior could never deter you. You had been with him for far too long now, too adept in his several complex mannerisms to be able to differentiate the good ones from the bad ones. You took him as he was, as he is, his blank faces and longly trauma and everything he came with.

Yes, he was usually so withdrawn and cold to anybody else, quick to leave and utter an irritated grievance but never with you. With you, he was warm and bright, soft smiles and loving eyes. With you, he was right where he was meant to be, by your side and protected by the impenetrable confines of your endless adoration.

Six gets you flowers randomly and sporadically, and it was such a sweet surprise to you each and every time he did. He rarely ever got you a bouquet unless it was something you explicitly wanted, something he’d really only purposely get on days that were really special — holidays or anniversaries.

He doesn’t do roses and old fashioned bouquets he felt every guy did for their lady, he figured you deserved more than tradition, something better. So, he likes to be unique and tries to make an effort in getting flowers specifically tailored to your tastes.

He was a gentleman even if he didn’t believe so, always overcompensating for something you weren’t sure what; maybe because he believed himself to be a difficult man to love, a difficult man to be with, something lesser than you so he’d try and make up for it.

He’s the type of man to bring you a flower he had seen one afternoon that he thought you might like, always taking note of the favorable flowers you’d mention days before and the excitement in your eyes as you talked about them. He remembered little things like that, things that you didn’t think he’d pay attention to.

He was a man to notice the small things as he’d walk into a front lawn or small garden, pluck the prettiest flower he could find and then tenderly place it in his pocket until he found his way back to you.

Most times it was just a simple daisy, a simple petunia, a simple stem, a simple little flower he had thought you would like. But for you it wasn’t about the lavish bouquets and dramatic proclamations of love anyway, it never was. Each simple flower was anything but simple to you, each one’s significance went beyond its pretty appearance and found in the gesture of what that flower represented.

Six’s love was subtle but fierce, strong and all encompassing. With each flower he gifted you it was just another sweet, meaningful anecdote in your budding love story. He’d leave it on the countertop before a mission, your bedside table, his pillow on the days he’d have to disappear for weeks on end. You were thankful for them, his subtle strokes of devotion bundled into a simple, little flower that meant the world to you. It was never about the money to you, and it was only ever the thought that mattered with Six.

You always loved his flowers, the small ones and the simple ones and the pretty ones. Whenever he would leave you on those stupid missions of his, the only thing you’d be left with is his sweet smell imbedded into the sheets and the flowers tucked under your bed in that precious pink shoebox. They’d be the only things left to remember him by until he came back, and in certain ways a guarantee that he will be.

Six will be gone when he thinks of you, missing you desperately, wishing to be back with you again. But even in the midst of gunfire and smoke he’ll still find your pretty flower sticking out of the cracked, bloodstained concrete and delicately put it somewhere safe, somewhere it can wait until it finds its way to you. It was his own way of ensuring himself that he will find his way back to you, back into the warmth, back where he was meant to be.

Each flower was a token of his love to you, each stem a stronger bond, each petal an unspoken promise. Whenever he was gone too long and you were left alone and sulking you would open up that shoebox of withered and fresh flowers. Whenever Six was sitting on an alley wall tending to his own bloody wounds halfway across the country he’d take that flower out of his pocket and twirl it in between his dirty fingertips.

No matter how far apart you two were the flowers were always there, stagnant and reassuring, as you both would look at that flower and find comfort in the words it symbolized.

He will always come back to you.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙TAGGING , @ghostslillady hope you enjoy bestie, it’s just a small thing 💕💕 & @little-miss-chaoss

[bellrose]

Pretty Phone in Pink

This little piece was born from @elusivewildflower "What if you had that Barbie phone as a burner phone", and my silly edition of "What if Court gave you a burner phone but it is a Barbie phone." The phone in question. This turned out more feels-y than silly, but oh well.

Summary: It's customary for Court to dissapear for weeks on end, only to re-appear the least you expect it. Sometimes you wished he would be more transparent on his wereabouts, if not to cease your worrying but to hear his voice when you miss him most. This time Court comes home with a solution to that.

Court Gentry x gender neutral reader

Warnings: implied injured!Court

Word count: 626

Court looked a bit sheepish when he handed you the box. As if he regretted not bundling it in some obnoxious wrapping paper, glitter and a bow on top. An image of a battered Court Gentry folding the creases of some papery design around the gift while laying low in some shithole or another made you stifle a chuckle. And a little tickle in your stomach.

The box was carton, no labels, very much very nondescript. Like a giddy child on Christmas morning you tore the tape off. Another box inside, gleaming plastic. A pink box.

“What-” you started, then paused. It was a phone. A pink phone. A Barbie phone. “You got me a phone.”

“Yes,” Court answered, pushing himself off the kitchen counter. Every movement a bit halted, as if every shift of his muscles was carefully considered, which they probably were.

Court was a master in pretending and you had no idea what kind of injury he was hiding underneath that hoodie. You asked, of course, when he dragged himself into your apartment through the fire escape looking every bit like a wet cat who got the cream upon your reaction to his sudden appearance.

You knew where he had been, or well, not exactly where but you knew he had been gone for the past week doing whatever Court did when he disappeared in a puff of smoke and the dregs of burnt coffee in your favourite mug. A Barbie mug with a chip in the ear and the print of Skipper faded from the many journeys through the dishwasher.

His mug now, but that was one of the things that had been left unspoken.

As much as Court kept his activities guarded from your scrutiny - though he would atone for those sins later when you dragged him into the bathroom to examine, as there was more to WikiHow than ‘how to be a mermaid’ - now his face was like an open book.

Court could speak so much without uttering one word. Sometimes you wanted to punch him for it. His honest affection and the maelstrom of feelings that lit a blush on your cheeks. The implication of the gift was clear.

“I thought you said,” you paused, cleared your throat. Too loud in the kitchen. “That it would be safer for me not to contact you when you…” Are busy trying not to get shot at.

Court winced.

“You can use it as a burner phone,” he said, holding your gaze. “I know the last few months have been hard on you. On us. And- I didn’t want you to be in danger, not anymore.”

From the front pouch of his hoodie, he pulled out a sturdy flip phone. Unlike the screaming pink, it was a slate grey. It reminded you of the Nokia’s of your youth. Inconspicuous and seemingly indestructible. Like him.

“Next time I’m gone,” he held up the phone, “You can call me, and I’ll try to answer.” Then he smirked. “Unless you aren’t interested in a bed time story.”

You rolled your eyes. “If it involves another rant on pickles, please do spare me.” “Hm, what’s wrong with counting pickles instead of sheep?”

You set the box down on the dinner table and took a step forward, crowding his space. “Thank you. I know this must be difficult for you.”

“I imagine not as difficult as having to worry if I’d ever come back to you at all,” he said, voice low in a whisper.

“But you’re here now.”

“Yes.”

You carded your fingers through his fringe, still wet from the rain outside. Tracing your thumb down his temple, over his cheek, resting just underneath his lower lip. The stubble scratching your skin.

“Tell me another story.”

Is the Barbie movie canon in The Gray Man movie-verse? Perhaps.

Thank you for reading

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Six of Six

Summary: You probably won't forget again

A/N: The inspo for this one came when I was looking for ideas for my next latest tattoo (possibly Six related xD)

Sierra Six x afab reader <3 Word Count: 3.1k

As per usual, it's NSFW 18+ @ken-dom as always my darling, I thank you for your support and inspiration and late night chats. You are the best worst chosen sister for all things smut related <3

Enjoy my loves <3

Keep reading

“How many?” 

You dropped your gaze with a small smile, cheeks burning under his scrutiny. He stood so close his body radiated heat, only making you warmer. 

You laughed lightly to yourself, biting your lips together as his fingers teased the hem of your t-shirt. “I forgot, okay?” you shrugged. 

“You forgot?” He raised an eyebrow, tucking his finger under your chin; forcing you to meet his gaze. 

You swallowed hard but held his eye contact. 

“Count them” 

You blinked slightly taken aback. “W-what?”

He took your chin in his hand, squeezing firmly. His eyes fixed on you. 

“You heard me,” he said sternly “Count them”

His hand moved from your jaw, closing around your wrist, guiding it to the left side of his bare chest. 

Your fingers grazed over his inked flesh. 

“One”  you whispered 

Your heart pounded in your chest as he moved your hand to his forearm. 

“Two” you continued 

You braced yourself against his bare chest, leaning your forehead against his before he dipped his head to claim your lips in a bruising possessive kiss. 

You melted against him with a soft whimper, letting his tongue tangle with yours. 

He pulled back just enough to let you speak as you felt his hand guide yours to his other arm 

“Three” your voice barely audible as your lips moved against his. 

Your head swam with the linger of his kiss; he always had this way of making you weak in the knees. You pouted as he put a bit more space between you, holding up his right hand. 

“Four” you smiled, pressing your lips to the faded ink. 

Six held up his left hand and you repeated the process, pressing your lips to his warm skin before you answered “Five”

Turning his wrist around, your lips brushed against the last one as your eyes fluttered closed; his large hand cupping your cheek as you leaned into his touch. 

“Six…” you whispered and you weren’t entirely sure whether you meant the number or the man standing in front of you; but you didn’t particularly care.

“So you do remember” he teased, his other hand holding your waist as he pulled you flush against him once more. 

Thankful for the strong arm sliding around your back, your hands held his broad shoulders as the hand he had cupping your cheek disappeared under your hair, bringing your mouth to his as you laughed breathlessly “Yes, Sir” you smiled against his lips before he pulled gently on your bottom lip with his teeth. 

He took two giant steps forward, pinning you against the wall, kissing you deeper before his lips moved from your mouth to your neck. You leaned your head back against the wall, his beard scratching against your throat as he tipped his head to suck under your jaw. You unintentionally moaned, your arms draping around his neck as you heard him chuckle against your skin. 

He kissed a trail back up the length of your neck, his breath against the shell of your ear calm and even, unlike your own.

“You want it?” His lips dragged over the contours of your ear as he spoke, making you squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lips together taking in a deep breath through your nose. 

All you could do was nod; and as if he’d known it he laughed lightly against your ear. “Use your words” 

Your breath caught in your throat with a small giggle as he deliberately dragged the hand not tangled in your hair, over your hip and came to rest on your thigh; close, but not close enough as his fingers came to a stop.

Brushing them gently on the inside of your thigh, he waited. 

“This is cruel” you whined attempting to thrust your hips into his touch; only for him to pin you more tightly against the wall with seemingly zero effort. 

You scoffed with protest as your breath grew heavier, struggling against his weight. “God!” you gave up with a huff, slumping against the wall as best you could “You’re evil, this is evil” 

He had hardly moved, barely made a sound before he pulled back to look at you; you could feel the hot flush of your skin and knew he could see it just as well. With eyes fixed on yours, his fingers crept slowly up the inside of your thigh.you attempted to squeeze your legs together, to stop him from moving any further and he simply pushed them apart with ease. 

For someone who ate, slept, and breathed sarcasm, there was no hint of it anywhere in his rugged features. His eyes intense, somehow more than usual, made your core clench; you almost jumped when he spoke again. 

“Three. Little. Words.” His voice hauntingly calm, making your heart pound harder in your chest, thump louder in your ears. 

Your lips parted as you took in a shaky breath but you didn’t speak; your eyes never leaving his. 

You squeaked with surprise as he grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing hard; you hugged him tighter as he pulled you from the wall, your feet leaving the floor just enough for him to spin you around toward the bed. 

The backs of your knees bumped the edge of the mattress, but Six kept you stationary. You looked at him with a pout and he looked back expectantly, one eyebrow arched slightly. 

You scoffed dropping your shoulders “Oh come on” you threw your head back dramatically dragging your fingernails down his bare shoulders. 

He shook his head “Wrong words” 

You let out a heavy sigh glaring at him “I hate you” 

That made him snort with a laugh “No you don’t” he smirked; as if to emphasize his point he squeezed your ass harder, making you gasp. 

You growled low in the back of your throat and he cocked his head to the side “Are you mocking me?” 

You hadn’t meant to, but… “Maybe” you pursed your lips “What are you going to do about it?” you challenged

Before you could blink, all the air rushed out of your lungs as you landed heavily on the mattress; Six’s weight near suffocating on top of you. Your arms were pinned over your head against the pillow, gathered in one of his hands. His nose dragged over the bridge of yours as he leaned in close, too close; your entire body suddenly feeling like you’d been set on fire. You caught your breath as you got your bearings. 

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do about it” he whispered; his free hand sliding back between your bare thighs. “I’m going to make sure you remember”

You scoffed a nervous laugh, trying to squeeze your thighs together; again to no avail. “H-how?” 

He shifted; his weight heavy on your middle as he let go of your wrists; taking your hand in his and bringing it to his chest. He folded your fingers so you were simply pointing with your index finger, guiding the tip of your nail dragging over the faded lines of his tattoo. 

“Trace it” His eye met yours briefly before dropping again, watching your nail, guided by his hand trace over lines. 

The heat of his body still radiated against your hand; his hand was warm closed over yours; the heat was still there even after he’d pulled away and you continued as instructed. 

“What happens if I stop?” you asked, eyes focused on his smooth skin 

“Then I stop” he answered, pulling your tank top up to expose your body underneath. 

You frowned slightly before you gasped, arching off the bed, the fingers you had been tracing his tattoo with immediately clawing against his chest as his warm, wet mouth closed around your nipple; his teeth scraping gently over the nub. 

“Fuck” you breathed and he raised his head with a smirk you wanted nothing more than to slap off his face. 

“Only if you finish all six” 

You purposefully dug your fingernails into his meaty flesh making him growl low and deep as he dropped his head again; one hand still pinning your arm over your head, his fingers threading together with yours as his other hand teased along the inside of your thigh. 

You leaned your head back into the mattress, taking in a deep breath with a small laugh “Fuck” 

You dropped your head back down to focus; watching intently as he dropped is head to kiss down your cleavage. 

You shuddered, feeling his tongue glide over your skin. 

“Hnh” you grit your teeth together trying like hell to keep your focus. 

You finished the first, dropping your hand to fist the sheets underneath you as Six’s mouth continued its assault. 

He let go of your hand, not even lifting his head as he nipped and sucked across the expanse of your entire body. 

You held his hand in front of you, palm out with his fingers spread apart slightly as your slender fingers in comparison traced over the lines of his second tattoo. 

You whimpered as his teeth dragged over your hip as you turned his hand over in yours. 

You got halfway through the next small one before feeling his warm breath so close to your core against your belly button and then all at once it was gone.  

“Six…. please” you weren't begging, but you weren't above it. 

“Start over” 

Your mouth dropped open “What?! Why?!” 

“You stopped,” he said simply “Start. Over.” his voice amplified against your stomach. 

The hint of his military training seeping through his command. If you fucked it up, started from the beginning until you got it right.

You did as you were told, tracing the lines of the sunburst where you'd left off. 

Six carried on exploring you with his mouth like a treasure map, leaving a trail of bright red hickeys like breadcrumbs as you circled back to retrace his wrist before moving to his forearm. 

He crawled over you, the hand he had between your legs braced on the mattress as he bent to suck and lick your neck. 

You bit down hard on your bottom lip tracing over the horse on his other side. 

He leaned next to your ear, making you shiver as he breathed. 

“Focus…” he whispered, dragging his teeth over your earlobe. 

You let out a needy moan, but by some miracle, kept your finger tracing steadily. 

You could feel him smile against your jaw before he kissed along the length. 

“How many?” He whispered in between kisses. 

You froze for a beat, genuinely unsure of just what answer it was he wanted. “Four” you guessed, and you were immediately rewarded, his teeth sinking into the divet of your collarbone making you cry out. 

“Fuck, Six…p-please”

“Keep going…”

You took his hand, tracing over the five small dots. 

Letting it drop, he braced himself on the mattress, trapping you between his arms as you retraced the portrait on his chest. His head dropped, watching your fingers move. 

As soon as you connected your invisible line he dropped on his forearms, lifting both of your legs over his shoulders. 

Before you had a chance to process, your body lurched forward, your back arching off the mattress as his fingers disappeared into the flesh of your hips, keeping you still as he buried his nose in your core, his tongue licking a hot stripe between your folds as he sucked your clit into his mouth. 

You cried out, shuddering in his hands as your heels dug into his shoulder blades in lieu of a mattress, making him groan into your core. 

You twisted against his onslaught, one of your hands twisting tightly in his thick blond hair, pulling hard; your other hand pushing through your own hair as you rolled your hips forward. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a long drawn out moan toward the ceiling.   

That only made Six more forceful. He groaned from between your thighs, sending the most delicious electricity through your entire body. 

You could hear yourself whimper pathetically but you couldn't do anything to stop it. You shuddered under his hands, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 

Then all at once he was gone, his mouth had disappeared. You practically screamed in protest, lifting your head to complain, your forehead nearly collided with the bridge of his nose as he pulled you closer, burying himself inside you with one swift movement, his mouth closing over yours, swallowing your moans as his tongue filled your mouth. 

Your moans mingled together as your ankles locked around his back and you wrapped your arms around his massive shoulders.

His hips snapped hard, making the mattress groan with the effort. 

You tore your mouth from his, taking such a deep breath your lungs burned as you clung to him, his face buried in your neck as you turned to putty in his hands; fingers twisted in his hair as he moaned deep and guttural against your neck, his cheek pressed against yours. His breath heavy and laboured next to your ear. 

He relaxed, his weight heavier on your chest as he turned his head, his lips searching for yours. 

You kissed him gently as he settled against your chest. Your fingers playing with his hair. 

“How many?” He muttered between lazy kisses. 

You shrugged with a smirk “I forget”

Suddenly his full weight came crushing down on top of you and you groaned underneath him 

“Jesus…Six” you rasped and he made no effort to move. 

Instead he reached to brush your hair away from your face before resting his chin on his arm across your chest “Still forget?” 

You shook your head 

“How many?” 

“Six” you answered taking a shallow breath before his weight disappeared off your chest 

You took a deep breath as he climbed off the bed, offering you a hand “I can think of better ways to suffocate me to death” you muttered taking his outstretched hand.

He lead you down to the bathroom before drawing a bath; the steam billowed from the tub, you tipped your head curiously, watching as he added a couple things to the hot water, swishing it gently with his hand before he stood straight and turned to face you. 

He held your hand as you climbed into the tub, stepping in after you. He moved to put himself behind you before you grabbed his wrist gently. 

“It’s my turn” 

***

He settled between your legs after turning off the tap, the water threatening to spill over the edge. 

You kissed across his shoulder blades before he leaned back against your chest, you slid your arms over his shoulders and down the expanse of his scarred chest. 

Leaning forward slightly, you pressed gentle kisses along his neck. 

Feeling him start to relax, you took the cloth off the edge of the tub, lathering it with soap, running it slowly over his contours. 

Your hand dipped into the warm water, dragging slowly over his stomach and you felt him go rigid almost instantly. 

“Relax” you whispered softly, nuzzling into his neck. 

He let out a heavy breath through his nose and you could feel his stomach unclench under your fingertips. 

Lifting the cloth from the water, you washed his arms next, water dripping down the length of his forearms.

Six reached to take the cloth from you and you let him, moving your hands to his shoulders, your thumbs moving over the seemingly permanent knots there. 

“Let me in,” you breathed softly next to his ear; the tip of your nose dragged along his hairline at his neck, your warm breath making his body prickle with goosebumps and he let out a low moan. 

Your fingers worked slowly and careful as his head dropped forward against his chest before he leaned back against your shoulder; his eyes closed. It was a rare occurrence when he would let his guard down completely; between his military training and childhood trauma he didn’t talk about, he was always on the defensive. 

Six let out another sigh, this one was content; your slender fingers hitting spots he never could reach on his own. It had taken him a long time to trust you, sometimes he wondered if it had taken too long, if you had given up trying or caring. He knew sometimes you still wondered if he had trusted you completely. 

He had; even though sometimes his instincts screamed at him not to; don’t trust you, don’t let you in, don’t protect you…

“Six…” 

Your soft voice pulled him from his thoughts as he felt your fingernail drag over his pec. 

He hummed questioningly; his eyelids heavy from exhaustion 

“Just counting…” you whispered against his neck, kissing the hollow behind his ear before you pat him gently, the water from your fingertips beading on his chest before rolling down into the tub. “Come on, before you fall asleep; I can’t carry you to bed” 

He reluctantly pulled himself to his feet; his limbs felt heavy as he wrapped a towel around his middle before wrapping you in the bigger, softer one; lifting you off your feet, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs draped over his bulging bicep. 

“But I can carry you” he spoke softly, kissing your temple as he made his way down the hall. 

Setting you on your feet next to the bed you both shed towels before climbing under the covers and you tucked yourself into the crook of his arm.

You both laid quietly; one of your hands absently tracing over the portrait on his chest; the other twisting soft strands of his hair gently around your fingers. He kissed your forehead before settling more deeply into the covers, his arm wrapped protectively around your bare back as he laid on his side, facing you, but also facing the door. 

You chuckled softly kissing his broad chest 

“Nothing is going to get us in the dark” you whispered in between kisses “Will you relax?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it”

You leaned back enough to look up at him; his blue eyes meeting yours, intense and brooding. 

“I love you, you overprotective freak”  you craned your neck to kiss under his chin 

You grunted as he crushed you against his chest, growling next to your ear, making you giggle. 

He eased his hold but didn't let you go; just pressed a kiss into your hair. 

“How many?’ he whispered 

You smiled against his chest with a sigh. “My favourite number”

“Which is?” His chest vibrating with the question. 

“Six” you whispered, letting your eyelids heavy with sleep slip closed; safely wrapped in the cocoon of Six's broad arms. His steady breathing and thump of his heart lulling you off to sleep. 



[greenandsorrow]

Enter the Gosling universe...

Ken

Oneshots

Ken x salon!Barbie/ sfw (🦋)

Multi chap

"Boytoy" - Ken x fem!human!reader/ smut

Officer K

Oneshots

Dreaming of neon snow. - K x Joi/ nsfw (@/goosemas)

Multi chap

After Dark - K x fem!reader/ nsfw, smutty

Others

Oneshots

"You should learn to knock first..." - Colt Seavers x curvy!fem!reader/ smut

The thunderstorm. - Sierra Six x implied!fem!reader/ fluff, comfort SOON

general masterlist

how to support me: click here

[glitterpeachtree]

I love The Notebook so much but it makes me depressed because I feel like I'm never going to meet a man like Noah ever in my life. I can't even find a man who will build me a sandwich, let alone a house.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Killing Time 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Your frustration mounts as you click the permissions again to allow the camera and microphone access. It’s so annoying! It just keeps running you in circles. Great. This is off to a good start. Late for the interview. That’s always the best first impression. 

When at last your firewall stops blocking the call, you flinch at the sight of yourself in the corner. You’re further jarred by the man staring back at you. Your mouth opens and for a moment, you’re frozen. You were so focused on troubleshooting, you forgot about what was waiting on the other end. 

“Oh, hi,” you squeak. “Sorry, I--” you look around, glancing through the clear walls of the library study room. It’s the first time you’ve been to this branch but you didn’t think the clutter of your apartment would make a good backdrop. “I was having issues with my camera.” 

“Quite alright,” he responds with a grin and a lilted accent. He sounds as professional as he looks. 

He wears a grey jacket over a muted teal shirt that lights up his eyes, even over the screen. His short hair is combed back neatly and there’s not a speck of stubble on his jaw. Under the structure of his attire you can tell he’s well-built. 

You resist the urge to look down at yourself. A white blouse. Boring but professional. It gets the job done. Hopefully. 

You force a smile. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he begins through your nervous silence. “I do appreciate your time and I would hate to waste it. So, we can hop right in.” He looks unflinchingly into the camera, “oh, let us not go so far past courtesy. I am James, we’ve been corresponding, yes?” 

“Uh, yeah, I remember. James.” You gulp. 

He says your name with a keen inclination. “This is rather not the position which requires those cliche questions so I won’t trouble you with asking what animal best reflects your personality.” 

You cough out a humouring chuckle and fold your hands on the desk. 

“Forgive if I should seem to the point. You see, it’s a very practical position. I think it’s best we go over what is expected before we go into the finer details; expenses, relocation, dates--” 

“Mm,” you squeak and put a finger up, “s-sorry, um, I thought we were interviewing but it sound like you’ve made a decision?” 

“Well, yes, I’ve reviewed your CV and your submitted profile and your answers to the questionnaire were acceptable. I didn’t think there was much else to consider,” he intones. You shift and try to hide your surprise. 

“No, of course, that makes sense,” you say. “Thanks, I guess I was confused.” 

“Not to worry. I find that written communication can often lack clarity so I thought it best we have a face-to-face in this circumstance,” he looks down as if he has a book or paper before him. “So, did you have any questions before I proceed?” 

“No, no, really, I'm sure you’ll answer them all.” Your cheeks bloom in a half-smile. You were so nervous about getting the job but you’ve already got it. 

“Right then,” he sits back and once more stares down the camera. “It is a very old property but the upkeep has been consistent. There should not be any glaring necessities for maintenance, this more of a custodial position. So, you would be the one to keep the place clean, make sure it is aired out, tend to the lawns but we do employ a grounds keeping service that comes fortnightly to trim.” 

You nod. It’s intriguing. You were sent photos of the property but you’re not quite sure of its purpose. Judging by the clustered pines in the background, you would guess it’s remote. A getaway that could be a goldmine for those wanting a vacation from the urban jungle. 

“You would have a roster, you see, of those you could contact for service so you will not require any specialisations. You are the day-to-day and would be expected to bring in the appropriate support for higher-touch difficulties.” 

“Right,” you try not to show your anxiety. 

“Albeit I should warn you that the reception in that location is not the greatest so if you cannot call out, you would need to keep trying. It will eventually catch but uh, not to mind, as long it is attended is what matters, not when,” he says.  

“Mhm, that makes sense. Um, can I ask what the property is? Is it like a summer home or...” 

“Ah, family inheritance,” he answers primly. “I’ve not much use for it past the sentimental value and I thought of leasing it for traveling parties but I’ve heard horror stories. Right now, I’m merely sitting on it until I figure out exactly what to do with it.” 

“Oh, right. Wow. Quite the inheritance.” 

“Hm, yes, my uncle did rather adore me. I was the only one named in his will but he was a bit of a curmudgeon.” He laughs. “Now, I must ask the most important question--” 

Before he can, the door swings open and you jump in your seat. Your heart sinks. You signed the room out for ninety minutes. You thought it would be more than enough. Surely it hasn’t been that long. 

Shoot. It’s him. How did he find you? You deliberately went out of your way so that he couldn’t. 

“Jake,” you stand and turn to him, trying to block the computer. “What are you doing?” 

“There you are,” he touches his chest as if he should be the one so afraid. “You didn’t come home--” 

You growl and cross your arms. 

“Jake, go away,” you grit out. “Not right now. Please.” 

“I had to make sure you’re okay,” he steps into the room and you push yourself back against the table. “Who else is going to look after you?” 

“I will scream, alright,” you warn. “Now leave me alone. I’m tired of telling you.” 

He sighs and his jaw squares. “I don’t get you. You act like I’m such a bad guy and I haven’t done anything to you. I never hurt you but you hurt me. You just spit in my face--” 

“Pardon,” the voice rises from the speaker at your back. “If I may, she is occupied and you are interrupting. I have a mind to contact emergency service should you persist.” Your mouth falls open and you turn to look at your laptop. James leans forward to glare at the lens, “Not sure who you are, fellow, but the lady has been clear.” 

“Who-- who is he?” Jake sputters. 

“Please, just go,” you plead. “Or I will call the police.” 

Little good they will do, you think, but that doesn’t need to be said aloud. 

He frowns and his eyes glint dangerously. You stare back at him, tense, fingers curling and uncurling nervously. That man on the screen won’t stop him and you don’t know if anyone would hear you from the desk. 

“Fine, guess I’ll see ya around,” he relents and backs out. 

You don’t move until he snaps the door shut. You hurry over and twist the lock on the inside. You don’t know why you didn’t do that before. 

“Are you alright?” James asks, drawing you back to the desk. 

You sit and look at the keyboard, “I’m very sorry. I...” 

“He doesn’t sound like a friend,” James says. You shake your head. “Well, then, it does sound like you’re in need of a fresh start. I do hope this can be that for you.” 

You look up and bat away the glimmer on the brims of your eyes. You’re not just afraid, you’re embarrassed. His kindness is as comforting as it is unexpected. 

“Thanks, um, anyway...” you exhale, “you were going to ask something.” 

“Yes, uh, yes, I was,” he reconfigures and puts another smile on. “When can you depart? I would of course arrange travel to be sure you get here safe and sound.” 

“Oh, when... whenever is best. Not to be too desperate but as soon as possible,” you say. 

“Wonderful,” he praises, “absolutely wonderful. Is tomorrow too soon? Pardon my own desperation.” 

“Tomorrow?” You utter and shake your head. “Tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.”  

It's sudden and scary but it’s good. The sooner you go, the less time Jake has to figure out what you’re doing. The less chance he can follow. It’s an escape. Not a perfect one but it’s all you have. 

🩸

You spend all night packing. You parse down what you have to the essentials and put the rest in bags. You don’t care about the furniture. You say as much in your email to your landlord, telling him to use your deposit for the disposal. 

You whittle your life down to three bags. A large suit case, a knapsack, and a single purse. You have it ready to go by the door. 

You feel uneasy about it. You stare at your luggage, the lights off, windows closed. Your phone buzzes and you put it to silent, ignoring the messages from your personal pest. You’ll be done with him too. You wonder if you should just toss your cell. 

You don’t sleep. You can’t. You still can’t believe you’re getting out. You hope you haven’t given the game away. 

There’s a tap on the window. You nearly roll onto the floor. You look over and hear it again, a harder impact. Are you serious? He’s throwing stones. He could break the damn glass. 

You shake your head. You won’t fall for it. Not again. You remember when he came to your door and cried until you opened up. He even smeared ketchup on his face to make you think he was hurt. It’s hard to tell the difference through a peephole. 

Almost there. Almost out. You just need to make it a few more hours. 

As you ignore the incessant tapping and the light of your phone glowing ever few minutes, your thoughts turn bitter. You should message everyone who turned their back on you and tell them exactly what they’ve put you through. Somehow, you think they’d care as much as they did before. 

Sleep eludes you but a foggy daze comes over you as the windows soften with the early morning. There’s no more pebbles bouncing off the pane. Just you and the buzz of the sleeping city. 

Your alarm chimes and you get up as your head pulses. You’re used to the constant fatigue. It will ease up and you’ll just feel a bit heavy. When it’s normal, you don’t notice as much. 

You get ready and have an instant coffee by the door. James messages just before nine. Your car will be there in ten. Oh, early. You don’t mind about that. 

You won’t go out and wait. You’ll stay here, where it’s safe. 

When your phone goes off again, you expect it to be Jake. It’s James. Whew. You’re so close, you can’t believe it. 

You grab your knapsack and purse, and drag your suitcase out behind you. You lock the door and throw the key through the mail slot. You hurry down the hall and take the stairs over the elevator.  

You don’t look back or anyway but forward. You look at your cell. 'Black Jaguar’ followed by a plate number. Jaguar? Holy moly. 

The tinted window rolls down and reveals the same face from the Zoom call. You didn’t know he was coming himself. You assumed he was sending a cab or something. You slow as you come out the door. He smiles and pops open the door. 

Before you can come forward, another figure appears, blocking your way. 

“Hey, I've been calling all night,” Jake says. You stop short and nearly yelp. Of course! 

“Jake, move.” 

“Where are you going?” He looks at your bags desperately. “Wait, you can’t--” 

“Pardon me, sir, is there some issue?” James strides up behind him. 

Jake turns to face him and stiffens, “and who are you—wait, you’re that guy from the computer.” 

“I’m none of your business, as is her life,” James insists. “Now, seems you’re used to picking on those smaller than you but let’s see how you do against me?” 

James steps closer. He’s a few inches taller than Jake. You can’t move as they stare each other down. You wait, expecting chaos. 

“I was only talking,” Jake shows his palms and shrugs. “It’s whatever. She’s a bitch anyways.” 

He turns and snarls over his shoulder at you. You back up. As Jake turns, he’s knocked off kilter as James hurls his fist into his jaw. The shorter man staggers and falls to one knee, catching himself in the grass. 

“Well, that was a lovely chat,” James smirks and beckons to you, “shall we?” 

[wokeupinmars]

The Pretty Nurse Who Lives Down the Hall

Pairing: Sierra Six / Court Gentry x Reader

Summary: Six spots a familiar face while he and Claire move into their latest apartment.

Warnings: Implications of past sexual relationship?

Word Count: 1.6K

Author’s Note: This is the first part of the Playing House series.

Part Two: “I’ll go wherever you go”

Part Three: The End of Beginning

Please comment and/or reblog if you enjoyed this!!

RG Masterlist

The sound of your laugh traveled down the hall and stopped him in his tracks. 

Six’s eyes darted in the direction. He could make out the back of your head as you waited for the elevator. Was that really you?

It might have been over two years since he had last seen or spoken to you but there was no doubt in his mind that it was you. He could recognize your laugh anywhere. 

He watched from afar as you got onto the elevator. You turned and before the doors closed, he could have sworn you made eye contact. 

Claire’s voice pulled his attention from the closed steel doors, “Why are you just standing there?”

Six’s attention turns back to the young girl in the empty apartment, struggling to push the raggedy old couch from the center of the room to the wall. “Claire please don’t touch that,” he tells her, walking inside and shutting the door. 

“Are we just supposed to leave it in the middle of the apartment?” She asks, putting her hands on her hips. 

“No, but it’s dirty and heavy.” 

“What were you looking at?” She questions. 

“Nothing,” he responds, going through flyers of local restaurants the previous tenant had left behind. 

Claire crosses her arms, “So you weren’t staring at the pretty nurse who lives down the hall?” 

“I haven’t had the chance to do deep dives on our neighbors, if there’s a nurse that lives on this floor then I’m sure I’ll know within the next day or two.” Six didn’t let it show but the possibility of you living down the hall had him on edge. 

You were a highly skilled assassin and took jobs as offered. You didn’t work for anyone, you worked for you. If the price was right and the target wasn’t a child you’d take the money and execute the job at hand. 

Were you here for him? 

You wouldn’t hurt Claire, he was almost certain about that. 

His mind reeled thinking of the possible reasons why you were here. What if you were hired by the CIA to track him down take him out and bring Claire back to them? 

He was quick to rule that idea out, as far as he knew you had never done a job for them before. But that didn’t mean you weren’t working for someone else, a lot of people wanted the gray man dead. And who better to do the job than you?

—

It was late when you got home. Your apartment was pitch black but you could still sense his presence. 

And then you felt it, the muzzle of his gun digging into the small of your back. “You know, most people have the decency to knock."

“What are you doing here?” His voice was gruff. 

“I live here, what are you doing here?” 

He presses the piece deeper into your back, “Not good enough. What are you doing here?” 

“I’m a nurse now. I live here and work in the emergency room at Mercy Hospital,” you answer, “Can I sit down? I’ve been on my feet all day.” 

He pushed you towards your armchair. 

You take a seat and he sits on the coffee table in front of you, his pistol still pointed at you. You slip your shoes off and rub your feet, “Can you put the gun away? We’re all friends here.”

“We’re not friends.”

You sit up straight and cross your legs, “You’re right. We’re not, we crossed that line a long time ago…I think about our weekend in Paris often.” 

The memories of that weekend floods his mind. A majority of that weekend was spent with the two of you holed up in a hotel room with a balcony view of the Eiffel Tower, not that either of you spent any time soaking up the sight. 

He clears his throat, “That was then, this is now.” Despite this rough tone, he does set the gun down. 

“Who’s the girl?” You couldn’t hold your tongue, you wanted to know why he was here just as much as he wanted to know about you. 

Six scoffs, “Like you don’t already know.” 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did.” It was true, you took pride in being three steps ahead. “Are you here on a job or something? Posing as a single father?”

He leans forward, “It’s a long story.” 

You mimic his movements, “I have time.” 

A moment of silence passes before he moves in a little closer, “My place.” 

You raise your eyebrows, “Wasting no time, huh? I guess some things really do never change,” you knew going to his apartment was about control for him but that didn’t stop you from teasing him.

He glares at you and you grin, “Lighten up Court.”

—

You knew they had just arrived but it became even clearer as you stepped into the apartment and saw the lack of furniture. 

The two of you sat at the kitchen table. He explained the events that transpired over the course of the past few months. 

“That poor kid,” you say with a frown, “How’s she holding up?” 

Six lets out a sigh, “She’s a tough kid, I’m still worried but I think she’s handling it better than most people.” 

You nod, “Strong girl.…and you?” 

He drums his fingers on the table, “I haven’t really thought about my feelings. I’ve just been focused on making sure Claire’s okay and that we’re safe.” 

“And do you feel safe here?” 

He stares at you, his eyes softening when they meet yours, “I think so.”

His words hang in the air before he speaks up again, “So you’re a nurse now?” His eyes scan over your scrubs, “Quite the professional 180, don’t you think?” 

You hum in agreement, “From taking lives to saving them…who would have guessed?” 

The corner of his mouth twitches up into a slight smile, “Why the switch?” 

There’s a brief hesitation before you answer, “Two years ago I turned down a hit…made an enemy out of the guy that tried to hire me and things got ugly for him and his goons when they tried to come after me.”

“Was it another kid?”

You shook your head, “No…he…” you were trying to find the right words, “He made things personal,” you spoke firmly and looked directly at him. 

He knew what you were saying or rather what you weren’t saying. 

He opens his mouth to say something but then he hears the creak of a door followed by the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen, “Six—oh hi,” she greets once she sees he’s not alone. 

She stands right beside him, it's obvious from her body language that she's wary of your presence. “Why are you bothering our neighbors?” She scolds him before turning to you with an apologetic look on her face, “I’m sorry about him.”

You watch in amusement at the scene unfolding in front of you before taking the opportunity to introduce yourself to her. 

“She’s my friend.” It sounds more like a question than a statement but you nod in agreement. 

“You?” Claire points at him, “You made a friend?” 

“Old friends, actually,” you correct. 

She looks to Six for confirmation, only shifting her gaze back to you after he nods. “How’d you guys meet?” 

“Work,” you both answer. 

“So you also worked for the CIA?” She asks, taking a seat at the table. 

“No.” You were trying to keep your answers as vague as possible. 

“So then you guys met on a mission?” Neither of you had the chance to respond as she continued with her questioning, this one starting with a gasp, “Were you his target?” 

“No,” you both say.

You glance at him before answering, “We did meet on a mission, we had the same target.”

She lets out an “oh” and leans back. 

“We teamed up to take him out,” Six tells her. 

Claire tilts her head in confusion, “I thought you worked alone?” 

“Not always. I’ve been partnered with people, but those were always planned.” 

Her eyes bore into you, “So you were the exception?”

“I guess so,” you tell her.

She looks back at Six, a sly smile on her face,  “Huh, I wonder why?” 

“I wonder,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes at her implications, “You know it’s pretty late, you should be in bed.” 

“It’s only 11:30.” 

“Exactly,” he states, “Go to bed.” 

“Fine,” Claire huffs out and pushes the chair back, the screeching of its legs scraping against the floor pierces the room, “But you could’ve just said you wanted to be alone with your lady friend.” 

You stifle a laugh at her teasing. 

“Don’t encourage her!” He sounded so stern but you can see the hint of a smile on his lips. 

“Goodnight, Sweetheart,” you tell her as she walks out of the kitchen. She calls back a simple “Night.”

—

You and Six sat in silence. 

“It is getting pretty late…I should get going,” you say getting up.

“You know…” he starts, standing up too, “Claire has a heart condition…maybe…maybe you can come around to make sure everything’s okay with her pacemaker.”

It’s a half-truth but you don’t call him on it, “I can do that.” 

His hand rests on the small of your back as he walks you to the door. “It was nice seeing you again,” you tell him. 

“It was,” he affirms.

“Goodnight Court,” you say softly, before turning and walking down the hall. 

You glance back at him once you make it to your door. He was still standing there, only retreating back into his apartment once you unlocked the door to yours.

—

Part Two: “I’ll go wherever you go”

Part Three: The End of Beginning

[ken-dom]

Just Another Wednesday

Sierra Six x afab!reader

∘₊✧ 1k words

∘₊✧ Summary: Six surprises you after a long day

∘₊✧ Authors notes: I wrote this simple little smut piece as a gift for my bestie and sister @heresthestorymorningglory who had a long Wednesday and frankly deserved nothing less than Six waiting naked on her bed. Sorry about the Skittles stains xoxo

∘₊✧ Warnings/content: nsfw, fingering, piv, Six is horny but the Skittles help, you miss out in a grilled cheese, and the most important warning — Six jumpscare

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

Tumbling through your door, you dump your bags in the kitchen and head straight for the shower. The world could be burning right now and you wouldn’t notice. More than anything, you just need to wash the day away.

You don’t bother to fold your clothes, dropping them to the floor instead as you shed them, letting them pool in an unceremonious pile you can worry about tomorrow.

The room fills with soothing steam, enveloping your body in a comforting warmth you’ve craved since midday. The slowest day ever.

As soon as the stream of hot water hits your back, you can feel your muscles begin to relax. You wonder how you’ll ever get out, instead imagining a world where you could stay cocooned in this cosy, warm enclosure forever.

But you know you’ll need to get yourself some dinner soon, even if it’s just a simple grilled cheese. You should probably tidy up your apartment a little, but that can most certainly wait.

You definitely need to get some proper rest before yet another day, though. Be responsible.

Reluctantly, you shut off the water and grab a towel, emerging from the bathroom to find some comfies to throw on and get cosy with that grilled cheese.

‘Just another Wednesday?’

As you freeze in the doorway to your bedroom, your head snaps up. For the first time since you got home, you actually paid attention to your surroundings.

Right there, sprawled out all sexy, and completely naked, on your bed, casually tossing skittles into his mouth one at a time, lies Six.

‘Come here,’ he coos, equal parts soothing and commanding as he carelessly drops the remaining skittles in his palm out onto the duvet.

You forgot to breathe. You haven’t moved yet, but if the raging erection between his legs isn’t already incentive enough, the tone of his voice sure is.

‘Drop that,’ he smirks as you make your way over to him, and you do precisely as he asks, slowly unwrapping yourself and letting the towel fall from your damp body.

He shifts to prop himself up, reaching to help you climb onto the bed (and more importantly onto him).

You carefully straddle his thighs, but his hands appear at your waist and roughly pull you down, bringing your core flush to his cock.

He groans, quiet and low, and guides your hips to drag his throbbing length through your folds, biting his lip as you gasp at the sensation and begin to roll your hips within his grasp until his hands fall away and you’re left in control.

Six’s eyes slip shut as a thick pearl of precum pumps from his tip, and somewhere within the haze of bliss he’s reminded he’s supposed to be surprising you.

‘Ah-a-alright- that’s- ohh- enough-’ he manages, strong hands back at your waist, holding you still.

When you comply, albeit reluctantly, he trails one hand down onto your thigh, fingers tracing upward to stroke through your slick folds and massage your clit, watching delightedly as your head drops forward and your breath turns shaky.

‘Horny, huh?’ he teases.

‘C-coming from… oh fuck- coming from you?’ you retort, your smirk falling away. He slides a thick finger inside and pumps slowly, and your jaw drops.

You reach for his cock, stroking clumsily as your pleasure renders you weak and uncoordinated. But it’s enough, and Six jolts up, a moan tearing from his throat.

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he says, snapping your hand away and holding it still with his free one.

‘Six… Six, please…’

‘What do you need, baby?’ he asks, velvety as he regains some composure. But he can’t deny the aching any longer.

‘T-tell me how long you’ve- ohhh- been here?’

You look smug despite your pleasure-addled state, and Six isn’t sure he likes where this is going.

‘Why?’

‘Because I wanna know how long you’ve been laid here with a huge hardon for me.’

Six doesn’t answer. He flips you over onto your back, pushes your thighs apart with a growl and thrusts himself inside, whimpering at the relief of finally being buried in your heat.

You yell out at the sudden stretch, the way his cock drags over that sweet spot inside you over and over while his hips snap desperately.

‘You- still- need- to answer- me-’ you say between thrusts, breathless, and Six buries his face in the crook of your neck, hips unrelenting.

‘A while,’ he moans, biting down on that spot below your ear that he knows sends a shiver through you, smiling against your skin when he hears the moan it elicits.

You rake your nails down his back, feeling him shiver at the delicious but subtle pleasure-pain. ‘How. Long.’

‘I- I’m gonna-’

‘Six,’ you warn, knowing all too well what it’ll do to him.

‘I’ll- I’ll tell you- I swear- but I’m- just give me a minute? I’m- ohhhughhhmnn-’

He spills inside you as your fingers make their way into his hair, your own orgasm crashing over you as his thrusts become erratic and somehow more desperate.

Your nails against his scalp fade from scratching to gently stroking and he collapses on top of you, heavy and panting.

It doesn’t take him long to catch his breath, and when he does he lifts himself up only to crush his lips against yours, cock softening, still inside your clenching walls.

‘Needed that, hmm?’ you quip when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours, and he just nods, slowly.

‘I was here a couple of hours before you got home,’ he admits, ‘if you must know.’

‘You were hard for a couple of hours?!’

‘I’m known for my incredible restraint.’

He slips himself from between your legs, leaving you empty, to settle beside you, usually unreadable eyes sparkling with a mischief and adoration that’s only for you.

You turn to face him and he drapes a heavy arm over your waist. 

You yawn. ‘Well I’m glad you waited for me.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Who knew Skittles were such a good distraction technique?’ 

He shifts around and fishes a red one out from somewhere underneath himself, popping it right into his mouth.

‘Tastes almost as good as you,’ he says casually, delighting in the flavour.

‘Care to test that theory?’ you ask, dragging your fingertips over his torso and up until one is pressed to his lips.

His tongue slips out from between them, lapping at your finger while his own fingers tease at your thigh. ‘Sure do.’

[hederasgarden]

Just Pretend

Summary: For a moment, Six thinks about how his life could be different.  Paring: Sierra Six (Court Gentry) x F!Reader Word Count: 700 Rating: 18+ only. Mild violence. Six does watch the reader without her knowledge but it's all above board. A/N: This is based on my thoughts about how Sierra Six would 100% have a housewife kink. Thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for looking over this story. 

Masterlist ♡ The Grey Man Masterlist

Six doesn’t mean to watch you. 

He knows it’s wrong, a violation of privacy, but after all the awful things he’s done, it seems small by comparison. Each time he finds his eyes drawn to you he promises himself it’s the last. It’s a lie of course because being stuck in a safe house for weeks on end, there isn’t much else to do. You live in the apartment next to the mark he’s collecting intel on. The blinds to your living room and bedroom are always drawn but he can see clearly into your kitchen where you spend most of your time.

It’s oddly relaxing to see you do mundane things like cooking dinner or baking cookies. You spend your mornings before work reading from your tablet and drinking tea at the little table you’ve wedged under the large window. Sometimes you’ll do the crossword there on Sundays, nose scrunched up as you solve the riddles and pencil in your answer. There’s a row of potted plants on the shelf that you take meticulous care of, watering them and cleaning the dust off their leaves with a damp cloth weekly. 

He loves the cooler days the best when you’ll throw open the window and he can hear the soft music you play and catch the smell of whatever you’re cooking. You’ve been baking more recently, experimenting with decorating cupcakes and cookies. Six admires the concentration it takes to sit, bent over a table to painstakingly create intricate designs for long stretches of time. He imagines you giving treats to your coworkers and friends. He knows they'd taste good, infused with the love and dedication you pour into them.

As far he can tell you don’t have anyone important in your life, at least that lives close by. You’re home every day by 5:30 pm on the dot and on the weekends you only seem to leave for groceries, although he’s seen two different men walk you back to your apartment in the evening. You never kiss or invite them up but you wear pretty sundresses that cling to all the right places on your body. Six is quick to push away that kind of thought. That’s dangerous territory. It’s bad enough he’s spying on you without your knowledge. 

This afternoon it looks like you’re making pasta and homemade bread. His stomach growls at the thought of warm, buttery bread. For a moment he lets himself fantasize what it would be like if he could share a meal with you, to be the person you spent hours cooking for. He likes to think you’d be the type to watch him take the first bite, anxious to see if he liked the new recipe. You’d probably smile and shyly look away when he complimented you, secretly pleased. 

Six thinks about cleaning up after dinner with you, the quiet, comfortable way the two of you would move around the small kitchen together. He'd wash and dry the dishes while you put away the leftovers. Afterward, the two of you would curl up on the couch and watch a movie. Six is willing to bet money you have a collection of soft blankets to burrow under. You'd probably fall asleep before the movie ends, head pillowed against his shoulder, and sleepily protest when he says you should go to bed. 

Before his thought can go further, a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye has him swinging the scope sharply to the right. It's the target, emerging from his apartment for the first time in weeks. The older man yawns and stretches, unaware he's being watched.

Six sighs, and flips open the shitty old Nokia phone he was given for the mission. 

"Target confirmed."

"10-4. Execute. Exfil will be waiting in the south alley," the faceless voice on the other end of the line commands. 

"Understood," Six replies, dropping the phone and grinding it under the heel of his boot. 

Before he can help himself, he looks back at your open kitchen window. You take a sip of wine and bite into a piece of bread, eyes closing with a smile as you savor the taste. His gaze lingers, longer than it should before he forces himself back to the task at hand. 

He takes slow, even breaths and leans his shoulder into the butt of the rifle, squeezing the trigger. The man topples back into the apartment. Below, the street traffic continues, unaware of what just occurred. The urge to look back at you is strong but Six buries it and disassembles his weapon. 

That isn't his life.

 This is and there's no amount of pretending that will change that.

♡

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