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rootedinrevisions · 25 days ago

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Just...Stay

SUMMARY: When he rolls back into her life every few months, Tyler Owens brings with him all the irresistible charm and warmth that first captured her heart, leaving her breathless and hoping for more. But as the years slip by, so do his promises, and every departure leaves her with another fracture in her heart and fewer illusions about the man she loves. Caught between the comfort of the life she’s built and the pull of the only man who’s ever felt like home, she must finally decide: will she wait for him one last time, or find the courage to let go and forge a path on her own? PART 2 HERE

Inspired loosely by "All the Cowboys" by Alexandra Kay.

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

WARNINGS: Angst. Unrequited love. Mentions of/Implied Smut.

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Twisters (Mostly Tyler right now, but possibly others soon)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The screen door creaked as you settled onto the back porch steps, the sun beginning to dip beneath the horizon. You held the phone close, balancing it between your shoulder and ear as you traced absent circles on the weathered wood with your fingertip.

Your mom’s voice crackled on the other end, warm and familiar. “You’ve been keeping busy out there?”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, Mama. Got a load of wash done, fixed that fence post that was leaning. Even tried to fix the gutter on the barn.”

She chuckled. “You sound like you’re doing just fine then. So, what’s got you out on that porch, calling me like you got the weight of the world on your shoulders?”

You hesitated, glancing out at the fields stretching endlessly before you, caught between the quiet beauty of dusk and the ache you felt blooming inside. “I don’t know, Mama,” you said, almost whispering. “Just feeling a little lost, I guess.”

There was a long pause on the other end, and you could almost hear her piecing it together. “You saw him again, didn’t you?”

A sigh escaped you, a mix of regret and resignation. “Yeah, I did. He was just… there, like nothing had changed.” You shook your head, remembering the way he’d looked at you, that familiar glint in his eye. “I know what you’re gonna say, Mama.”

She didn’t hesitate. “That boy’s no good. He comes ‘round whenever he pleases, but he leaves just as quick. You can’t be holding out for someone like that, honey.”

You felt your chest tighten, the truth of her words hitting harder than you’d like to admit. “I know, Mama. Believe me, I know.” You picked at a loose thread on your sleeve, fingers fidgeting. “But when he’s here… it’s like I forget all that. I forget how many times he’s done this before, how I feel every time he leaves.” Your voice grew softer, thick with frustration. “And then he’s gone, and it feels like… like there’s this empty spot he left behind.”

There was a pause before she spoke again, her voice gentle but firm. “Why do you let him do this to you, sweetheart?”

You exhaled slowly, shoulders slumping. “I don’t know. Maybe I keep hoping it’ll be different. That maybe… he’ll stay.” The words sounded hollow even as you said them.

You could feel her weighing her response, the silence heavy between you. “Honey, some people just aren’t made to stay. They get what they need and they’re gone, leaving folks like you to pick up the pieces.” She paused, and you could almost see her shaking her head. “But that doesn’t make it right.”

A lump formed in your throat as you thought of Tyler driving off into the sunset, no promises, no goodbyes—just gone. You let out a weary breath, looking down at the chipped paint on the porch step beneath you.

“Why do they always leave, Mama? Every time things get good, he just vanishes.”

“Oh, honey…” She sighed, the sound deep and knowing. “It’s in some folks’ nature to chase what they don’t have, always looking for something else just over the next hill. Doesn’t mean you have to keep getting hurt by it, though.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the truth settle heavily in your chest. The silence stretched on, filled only by the chirping of crickets and the fading warmth of the sun. You knew your mother was right, but as you sat there, a small part of you still hoped that maybe, just maybe, he’d come back one day and stay.

The memory came back in a slow, aching wave. Just two nights ago, you and Tyler lay tangled up together under the sheets, his arm wrapped tightly around you. The world felt quiet in those moments, like the whole world had shrunk to just the two of you, his warm skin against yours, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek.

You tilted your head up to look at him, his face softened in the dim light. “So… how long are you sticking around this time?” you asked, half-joking, though you both knew the question carried a heavier weight.

Tyler’s gaze drifted, his lips twitching in that familiar, evasive way. “Maybe longer this time,” he mumbled, though he couldn’t quite meet your eyes when he said it. Instead, his thumb traced absent circles over your shoulder, a touch meant to soothe but only deepening the pit forming in your stomach.

You wanted to believe him, wanted to hold on to that maybe, but his tone, that shift in his eyes as he looked away—it was the same pattern, the same script. You’d been through this dance too many times not to recognize the truth hiding behind his words. He would be gone by morning. And as much as he’d tried to sell you that soft maybe, the two of you understood this wasn’t a visit that would last.

But in that moment, as you curled up against his side, you pretended you didn’t know. You buried yourself in the warmth of his embrace, letting yourself have just one night, pretending you wouldn’t wake up alone.

And sure enough, the next morning, when your hand reached across the bed to his side, it found nothing but cool sheets. You stared at the empty space beside you, that hollow ache settling deep in your chest. With a sigh, you threw back the covers and padded over to the closet, grabbing one of his old T-shirts he’d left on one of his previous stays, back when you still believed he might keep leaving pieces of himself behind to build something more permanent with you.

The shirt smelled faintly of him, a hint of cedar and summer nights that made your throat tighten. Tugging it over your head, you went to the kitchen, the floor cold against your bare feet as you filled the kettle, automatically going through the motions of your morning coffee.

And that’s when you saw it—the note, lying in the center of the kitchen table, his handwriting scrawled across the torn piece of paper.

It was a short message, just a handful of words that were supposed to feel like a promise, but instead felt like one more empty reassurance. You picked it up, reading the rushed lines that only served to emphasize his absence.

Didn’t want to wake you. Take care, darlin’. I’ll see you around.

The words felt flimsy, like the paper might disintegrate under the weight of your disappointment. You crumpled the note in your fist, feeling the familiar sting behind your eyes. This wasn’t new—this cycle of him drifting in, leaving pieces of himself in the form of old T-shirts and half-hearted promises, only to vanish before you could say goodbye.

You’d been through this so many times before, and yet, as you stood there, clutching that note, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this time was the one that would finally break you.

Your mom’s voice cut through the silence, gentle but firm. “Honey, you still there?”

You blinked, realizing you’d let the silence drag on too long, your mind caught in the weight of memories you could barely hold onto. “Yeah, Mama,” you murmured, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“I know you love him,” she continued softly, but her words carried a strength you weren’t sure you had anymore. “But I need you to ask yourself if he’s treating you like he loves you, too. ’Cause, baby, love isn’t something you only hold onto when it’s convenient. It’s there in the hard times, in the moments that aren’t so pretty. And if he’s not showing up for you… maybe it’s time to ask yourself why you’re still waiting.”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, staring down at the crumpled note still clutched in your hand. The truth of her words was painful, like a splinter lodged too deep to pull out.

“I know,” you whispered. “I know you’re right.”

“I just hate seeing you go through this, time and again,” she said, her voice tinged with a sorrow that made your chest ache. “You deserve someone who’s there for you, who doesn’t keep running just because things start feeling real.”

You exhaled, forcing a smile that felt as brittle as glass. “Thanks, Mama. I… I just needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, baby,” she said, her tone softening. “You take care of yourself. And remember, it’s okay to let go.”

After a quiet goodbye, you hung up, setting the phone down beside the note. Your mom’s words echoed in your mind, a steady reminder of what you deserved, a grounding tether pulling you back to reality. She was right, of course. She always was. And yet…No matter how many times he left, or how much you knew he wasn’t treating you the way you deserved, there was still a part of you—a foolish, stubborn part—that couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he stayed. Just once.

You closed your eyes, letting the bittersweet ache of a daydream settle over you, imagining what it would be like if he stayed. Just once.

You could almost feel him there beside you, his arm still wrapped around you as you stirred awake. In this vision, his side of the bed wasn’t empty; he was there, his breathing slow and steady, a soft smile tugging at his lips as you rolled over to nuzzle closer. The warmth of his body against yours made you feel safe, grounded, as though he was finally, truly yours.

Later, you pictured the two of you in the kitchen, the early light streaming in through the window as you handed him a mug of coffee. He’d take it, wrapping his hands around yours just a second longer than necessary, his fingers warm against your skin. You’d share a quiet laugh over something simple, something easy, while the steam curled between you. And as he sat across from you, his eyes would linger like he was savoring the moment, like he was savoring you.

In your mind, you watched as he’d finish his coffee, rising from the table to head out to the fields with you. He’d tug on a worn cap and grin over his shoulder, his eyes crinkling in that way that always made your heart stumble. You’d walk side by side, falling into the comfortable rhythm of working together, your boots crunching over the soil as you talked about things that never came up in his fleeting visits. What you’d plant next season, what you’d add to the place if you had the time and the money. He’d joke about the future, and for once, you’d let yourself believe in it.

Evenings would come, and you’d find yourselves on the back porch, watching the sun dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over everything. He’d reach for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You could almost feel the weight of his head resting against yours, his soft murmur of how he’d missed this, missed you. And as night fell, the stars would come out, and he’d pull you close, wrapping you in his arms as though he had nowhere else to be.

And then, in this daydream, he’d follow you back inside, his arm draped around your shoulders as you led him up to bed. There, tangled up in the sheets, he’d hold you close, his touch lingering and gentle, making you feel like you were the only person who’d ever mattered to him. His whispered promises wouldn’t be half-hearted or hesitant; they’d be real, as solid as the feel of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. You’d fall asleep in his arms, knowing he’d be there when you woke, that he’d finally found a place with you he wouldn’t leave behind.

But as you opened your eyes, the reality settled around you like a familiar chill. It was just a daydream, a vision of something you’d never have, as fleeting as his footprints fading from the dirt driveway. And yet, you couldn’t help but hold onto it for one more heartbeat, wishing with all the fragile hope you had left that someday, somehow, it could be real.

* * * * *

A MONTH LATER

It was a late afternoon, the sun dipping low and casting long shadows over the gravel drive as you stood on the porch, the distant rumble of an engine reaching your ears. You recognized that sound before you even saw the dust cloud rising in the distance, stirring up memories you’d been trying to put to rest for weeks. His truck rounded the last bend, and there he was, windows down, that easy, rugged grin spreading across his face as he slowed to a stop in front of the house.

Tyler stepped out, stretching his arms like he belonged there, like he hadn’t left you picking up the pieces last time. Dust clung to his boots as he walked toward you, his eyes fixed on yours with that familiar spark—one that made you feel seen in a way that was hard to shake, even when you wanted to.

He looked just the same, though maybe a little more sun-worn, his t-shirt clinging to his shoulders, his jeans frayed in a way that was somehow endearing, like they’d seen as much of the road as he had. He stopped a few steps away, his gaze softening as it met yours.

“Hey,” he said, voice warm and low, as if no time had passed at all.

You stayed still, hands clenched by your sides. You’d prepared yourself for this—told yourself a hundred times that if he showed up again, you’d keep your distance, guard the pieces of your heart he kept leaving behind. But as he stood there you felt the walls you’d built begin to crack.

“Hey,” you replied, the word catching in your throat.

A beat of silence hung between you, heavy with all the things left unsaid. Then his face softened, his smile widening in that way that always undid you. And, as if by instinct, he reached for you, his hand lifting to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin with a gentleness that felt almost like an apology.

For a moment, you considered stepping back, holding onto the anger and hurt that had filled the empty space he left behind. But as his touch settled, as his thumb traced a line just below your cheekbone, all your defenses crumbled.

Before you knew it, you were reaching back, your hand settling over his as you let yourself lean into him. It was like slipping back into a familiar dream—the one where he stayed, where he was yours for longer than a fleeting moment.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, and you sank into his embrace, feeling the weight of his chin against your hair, the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. And in that moment, against all reason, you let yourself believe that maybe this time would be different, that maybe he’d come back not just to leave again, but to finally stay.

He held you close, his arms wrapped around you with that familiar, unguarded tenderness. His chin rested on top of your head, and for a moment, it felt as if the world beyond his embrace had faded away. His fingers traced slow circles on your back, a quiet, grounding rhythm that felt as real as his voice when he finally spoke, low and rough against your hair.

“I missed you,” he murmured, the words so soft you almost didn’t catch them. He shifted, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “I’m glad to see you again.”

You looked away for a moment, the words stirring both warmth and ache deep in your chest. It was unfair, the way he could come and go, the way he could leave you longing for more, but when he looked at you like that—with his guard down, that rugged charm softened by something raw and honest—it was hard to hold onto your resolve.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, barely able to meet his gaze. He smiled at that, a slow, almost relieved smile, as if he’d feared he might’ve lost his place in your heart.

He let his hand drift to yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a familiar gesture. “Come on,” he said, tugging you gently, “let’s make a day of it.”

With Tyler by your side, you found yourself lost in the rhythm of farm chores that felt lighter, easier, with him there. He was quick to lend a hand, reaching for the same tools you did, working alongside you with that easy, capable grace he seemed to carry everywhere.

You walked through rows of vegetables, pulling up the last of the summer crops, the sun warm against your skin. Tyler watched as you tossed a few stray weeds into a pile, a hint of amusement in his gaze.

“So,” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence, “how’s the team? Boone, Lily, Dani, Dexter?”

He chuckled, swiping a smudge of dirt from his forearm. “They’re all good. Wild as ever. Boone’s still dragging his feet over settling down, though I keep telling him he’s a fool if he lets Lily go. And Dani’s got herself a new truck she’s way too proud of. Dexter? Well, you know him; he’s just happy to tag along for the adventure.”

You smiled at the thought of his friends, feeling a pang of longing for the life he lived—a world of movement and adventure, so different from the one you held steady here. “They sound like they’re keeping you busy.”

“Yeah, they do.” He looked at you, a softness to his expression that made your heart skip. “But they’re not the only ones.”

“What do you mean?”

“Been thinking about you too, you know. Wondering what you’re up to when I’m gone.” He paused, glancing around the fields before adding, “How’s your mom doing?”

You swallowed, touched that he remembered to ask. “She’s good. Stubborn as ever, trying to do too much on her own. But we manage.”

He nodded thoughtfully, reaching out to steady you when you stumbled on a loose patch of earth. “You’ve got your hands full, don’t you?”

“Guess so,” you said, shrugging with a small smile. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He looked at you then, his gaze lingering, as if taking in the way you belonged here, rooted to this land and this life. For a moment, you thought he might say something more, but he only squeezed your hand, wordlessly acknowledging that unspoken divide between his world and yours.

Later, after a simple dinner you’d shared at the kitchen table, you both made your way out to the porch as the sun dipped low in the sky. He settled onto the swing beside you, letting his arm drape casually over the back of it as you leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his shoulder beneath your cheek.

The evening was calm, the colors of the sunset stretching across the horizon in soft shades of pink and orange, and you found yourself sighing into the quiet.

“This…this is nice,” you murmured, glancing up at him.

Tyler gave a soft hum of agreement, his thumb tracing small, comforting circles along your shoulder. “Could get used to it,” he said, his voice soft, as if testing the thought aloud. “It’s different from the rush of things out there. Being here with you—it just feels right.”

The words settled between you, gentle and unassuming, but laced with a longing that you felt all too acutely. He looked down, catching your gaze, his eyes holding yours in the fading light.

“I know you’ve got your life on the road,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “But sometimes I wonder…what it’d be like if you stayed.”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze drifting out over the fields that stretched into the distance. Finally, he gave a small nod. “I think about it too. More than you know.”

You fell into a comfortable silence, his arm around you, your head resting on his shoulder as the last light slipped below the horizon. And in that quiet moment, you let yourself imagine a world where he was yours—not just for today, but for all the days and nights to come.

In the quiet glow of the fading sunset, Tyler’s gaze grew heavy, lingering on yours with a kind of tenderness that always seemed to pull you in too deep, too fast. And in a heartbeat, he was scooping you up, lifting you effortlessly into his arms as you laughed, breathless and already feeling the rush of surrender. He carried you down the hallway, his eyes never leaving yours, each step filling the space with anticipation you could feel in every beat of your heart.

The bed was cool beneath you as he laid you gently on the sheets, his body following close, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of any distance between you. His hands were careful yet urgent as he traced familiar paths along your skin, murmuring against your ear, his voice low and rough with want.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he whispered, his breath warm against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You closed your eyes, letting the sound of his voice wash over you, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in your chest. “I’m lucky,” he murmured, his lips brushing your collarbone. “I’m the luckiest damn man alive that you’re mine.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to cling to those words and tuck them away, to let them soothe every doubt he’d left behind. But you pushed the ache aside, banishing it to some quiet corner of your mind where it couldn’t reach you now.

Instead, you let yourself get lost in him, in the way his hands knew every inch of you, how his touch left you dizzy, breathless, like you were the only thing that mattered in his world. Every whispered word, every gentle kiss pressed to your skin, they all felt like a spell you couldn’t break. And for that one perfect night, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, he was telling the truth.

Afterward, as you lay tangled together in the sheets, your body pressed close to his, his arm wrapped around you, it was almost easy to forget. To ignore the hollow ache in your chest and pretend that this time, he wouldn’t slip away with the sunrise. And so, for those last quiet hours before dawn, you let yourself exist in that fragile, fleeting moment, letting go of everything but him.

The soft sound of Tyler stirring pulled you from the haze of sleep. You opened your eyes to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, already reaching for his clothes. The early morning light filtered through the window, casting a soft glow over his figure as he moved quietly, carefully separating your clothes from his in the pile by the bed. For a moment, you wanted to reach out, to pull him back, to press your face into his shoulder and beg him to stay. But something in you had finally had enough.

He noticed you were awake, glancing over his shoulder with a soft smile that you’d once let yourself believe was meant just for you. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand brushing over your shoulder.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmured. “You need the rest.”

But you couldn’t—not anymore. Watching him move through the room, watching him get ready to leave again as if it were just another morning, you felt something inside you finally shift, that last fragile bit of hope you’d clung to finally snapping.

Sitting up, you took a steadying breath. “Tyler,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. He looked over, a hint of surprise in his eyes at your tone. You struggled to keep your voice even, the words tangled in your throat. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for someone who always leaves when things start to feel... real.”

He stilled, the easy expression on his face fading as the weight of your words sank in. You saw the conflict in his eyes, the same struggle you’d seen a dozen times before, but this time you weren’t going to let it end with an unspoken understanding. You were done with the quiet promises, the hope that somehow, one day, he might change.

“Stay,” you whispered, feeling the tears prick at your eyes. “Just... stay. I’m not asking you to give up chasing. I just want you to come home—to make this your home. To choose me.”

He looked at you, something like regret flickering in his gaze, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words you wanted.

Instead, he let out a shaky breath and looked down, and when he looked back up, all he managed was, “I’m sorry.” And you knew, in those two words, he’d already made his choice.

As he turned and started for the door, you found yourself following him, your steps echoing in the silence of the house as you trailed him through the hallway, the kitchen, the living room—all the way out onto the porch. You watched as he opened the truck door, throwing his bag into the backseat like he had a hundred times before.

“Don’t come back,” you said, the words escaping before you could stop them. Your voice wavered but held firm, steady with a finality that startled even you.

He froze, his hand on the truck door, then turned to look at you. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—shock, maybe even hurt—as he crossed the driveway and came back up the steps, stopping just a few feet away.

“You don’t mean that, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and careful, as if he could talk you back from the edge. “You’re upset, I get that, but... you don’t mean it.”

But you shook your head. “I do, Tyler. I can’t keep doing this. If you’re not choosing me, then... then don’t come back.”

He held your gaze, searching for something, as if hoping to see the softness he’d come to rely on. But when he only saw your resolve, he let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly.

“I’ll call you later,” he murmured. “We’ll talk.”

And just like that, he’d told you everything you needed to know. You didn’t need a call. You didn’t need another apology. You’d waited long enough.

You stood on the porch, watching as he climbed back into his truck. He didn’t look back as he drove down the driveway, the morning sun casting his truck in a halo of light as he disappeared into the Kansas countryside. You watched until he was just a speck on the horizon, your heart breaking and mending all at once with the realization that this was truly goodbye.

You’d loved him with everything you had, but you knew now that you couldn’t keep waiting for him to choose you. And when the phone finally rang, you knew you wouldn’t pick it up. Not this time. Not ever again. Because the next time he came back, you’d be moved on, ready to start again without him.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens x you #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Angst

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cowboybeepboop · 3 months ago

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Sugar

"I'm not finished proving my point, sugar."

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 6k

Summary: You’ve spent months avoiding the advances from Jake, finally deciding to give in to his desire and your own.

a/n: I just remembered how much I loved Glen in TGM and now I’m obsessed with writing for him 😍😭. I always take requests so send any you have my way. Hope you enjoy <3

Maverick took a liking to you the second he met you, as one of the aircraft maintenance technicians assigned to work with the fighter jets, he shows you and your coworkers immense respect. He always makes a point of telling his team that the technicians are the reason they are able to complete their missions.

Pete brings his group of rowdy aviators into your work space. You're spinning in your chair, your jumpsuit tied around your waist as you got too warm with the summer air. He chuckles lightly when he sees you, he was pretty amused by the sight. Seeing you with your jumpsuit tied around your waist as you spun around in your chair, you looked pretty cute, in a little sister sort of way.

“Hey Kid." his eyes lock onto yours as he steps closer.

“Oh,” you stand up awkwardly, adjusting your tank top. “Hi sir, what brings you here?”

"We were just briefing with the other aviators. Thought I'd bring them by to see the people who keep us flyin'." he smiles softly at you, causing you to relax slightly.

“Well, it’s a great pleasure to meet you all.” your face brightens as you address the rest of the pilots. “My name is Y/N,” your lips curve into a dazzling smile. The other pilots nod and greet you politely, but they're all distracted, unable to keep their eyes off of you. They all look you up and down, admiring your beauty. They didn't expect to see a woman working with aircraft maintenance, but here you were, clearly skilled at your job, if Mav is wanting to introduce them to you specifically.

One of them in particular was checking you out a lot more than the rest, staring at you through his aviators as he looked you up and down. The dirty blond haired man was definitely taking a liking to you more than the others as he leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

Maverick notices the way the Hangman is looking at you, and he doesn't like it. He can sense the man's desire from a mile away, and it makes him wary.

“Well, if anyone has any questions I’d be glad to answer them.” you slip your arms back into the sleeves of your uniform, taking a seat at your desk once again, eyes flicking over the paperwork in front of you.

As you looked up, Hangman's eyes met yours, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He couldn't help but be impressed by your dedication to your work.

Hangman pushed himself off the wall and sauntered closer to your desk, stopping right in front of you. "Hey there, sugar."

You give him a gentle smile as you're used to the flirting of the aviators. “Hey, do you have a question for me?”

"Oh, I think I've got a few questions." Hangman grins, his eyes looking you up and down slowly, taking in every inch of you. He leans forward, bracing one arm on your desk to get a better view.

He cocks an eyebrow, “But I might just get distracted by you before I ask them.”

“Is that so?” you gaze up at him with amusement.

"Yeah, you're just a little too distracting." he grins, a cocky look on his face.

His gaze drifts down to your exposed arms and lingers a moment, taking in your skin, before his eyes snap back up to your face. He smirks, "You know, a girl like you working in a place like this? Gotta say, it's a nice change of pace."

You stand up, leaning toward him as you smile. “You're a sweet talker blondie, but trust me. I’m not interested.” your voice is full of venom as your grin widens.

“I’m not a fan of aviators who are quite obviously making up for what they lack,” your eyes flick to his lap, “by keeping a cocky attitude towards any woman their eyes land upon.” you pat his shoulder softly as you turn on your heel, walking toward Mav.

Hangman stands there, stunned. He's not used to being told no, especially in such a blunt manner. His face hardens at the jab at his.. anatomy, and his smirk twists into a scowl.

Maverick stands nearby, watching how you handle the situation with interest. He's trying to keep his expression neutral, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips.

He knows Hangman's reputation, and he's glad that you were able to put him in his place. "Well done, Kid." he pats your back affectionately.

__________

A couple months have gone by since you met Hangman, you purposely try to avoid him, knowing that he's your exact type (an unnaturally attractive man who *knows* it). But it seems like the more you avoided him the more he sought you out. He always seemed to be lurking at the end of the work day, trying to get your attention, doing anything he could to be by your side.

Your coworkers press you, practically begging you to come with them to the bar. You agree to go with them to The Hard Deck, slightly annoyed at your choice in clothes as you're wearing a cropped t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, it’s going to catch some unsavory attention.

Your eyes land on Maverick as you enter the bar, your eyes brightening as you walk up to him, slipping into the seat next to him. “Good evening Sir.” you smile over at him.

Mav looks up from the book he was reading when you sit down beside him. He smiles warmly when he sees you. "Hey Kid. It's good to see you." He sets down his book, his eyes scanning over your outfit. He notices that your choice of clothing is a bit too revealing for his liking, and he can't help but feel a pang of worry.

"Have you been working hard today?" He asks, trying to keep the conversation nonchalant.

“You know it, I’m always working hard.” you order a beer before turning your attention back to the older man. Maverick raises an eyebrow as you order a beer, he takes a sip from his own drink, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You work too hard, you know that?" He says with a slight chastising tone. "You should take some time for yourself, relax a little." you laugh in response.

“It’s funny to hear you say that,” you take a drink of your beer, fumbling with the bottle. He watches you as you take a drink, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was used to seeing you in your coveralls, dirty from working on the planes all day, but now, with your shorts and cropped top, you looked like a completely different person.

"What can I say, kid," he says, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. "I'm just concerned about you, that's all. You're young, you should be enjoying yourself, not working all the time."

“Yeah, you're right.” your lips purse, “but it takes hard work to prove your value as an employee.”

Mav leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he gazes at you with a mix of admiration and concern. He can see the determination in your eyes, the desire to prove yourself in a field dominated by men.

"I understand that," he says quietly. "But you also have to take care of yourself. You're no good to anyone if you burn yourself out." you grin over at him, taking notice of your coworkers calling you over to the pool table.

Mav watches as your coworkers call you over to the pool table. He can see the excitement in your eyes, the way your lips curve into a smile.

"Go on," he says, gesturing towards your friends. "Have some fun. Just don't get too drunk, alright?" He adds, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Yes Sir,” you leave your seat grabbing your beer as you walk over to them. You immediately notice the eyes of Hangman on your body.

Hangman's eyes hungrily roved over your exposed skin, his gaze lingering on your thighs and the small bit of midriff that was visible. You could almost feel the heat of his gaze as you approached the pool table.

He leaned against the wall, a lazy smirk on his face as you joined your friends. As you took your place near the table, he pushed off the wall and sauntered over to you.

"Looking good, sugar." he drawled, his eyes flickering over your exposed body.

“Ah, Hangman? Is that right?” you glance over to him, your arms crossing over your waist.

"That's right, sweetheart." Hangman smirks, his eyes flickering down to your crossed arms, clearly noticing the way you're trying to hide yourself from him.

He steps closer to you, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils as he leans in. "Now, don't cover yourself up on my account. I like what I see." he purrs, his eyes traveling down your body again, his gaze lingering on your thighs.

“You're not gonna drop the act are you?” you sigh out, eyes narrowing as his cocky grin.

"This isn't an act, doll." Hangman's tone dropped lower, a hint of a challenge in his voice. He stepped even closer, his chest almost touching yours. "I mean every word I'm saying."

He reaches out, gently gripping your hip, his thumb brushing against the exposed skin at the edge of your shorts. "You're a sight for sore eyes, sugar." his touch sends shivers down your spine, desire pooling in your stomach,

You press your hand against his chest, pushing him into a seat roughly. “Your sweet talking won’t work on me, pretty boy.” Hangman grunts as he falls into the chair, slightly surprised by the forcefulness of your shove. He leans back, his eyes flickering over your form, taking in the way your body moves in your tight shorts.

"Oh, so you do have some fire in you." He grins, clearly unfazed by your aggression. "But I don’t think I’m going to give up that easily, sweetheart." his attraction for you seemingly grows at your assertiveness.

“Well, the same can be said for me.” your tone is cold as you move away from him, taking your place with your fellow technicians once again. Hangman's eyes never leave your form as you walk away, his gaze fixated on the way your hips sway in your tight shorts.

He can't help but admire your attitude, the way you refuse to give in to him so easily. It's a challenge, one that he's surprisingly enjoying. Hangman stays seated for a moment, watching as you join your friends over at the pool table. He takes a deep breath, his mind still focused on you and the way your body moved. There was something about you that made him want to push your buttons even more.

The night drags on and you find yourself calling it quits pretty early, you've never been attracted to the long nights spent in a rowdy bar. “Hey guys, I’m gonna head out.” you walk out the door after saying goodbye to your crew.

Hangman, who had been watching you all night from the bar, quickly sets down his drink and moves to follow you. He follows at a distance, wanting to catch you alone without the watchful eyes of your friends.

Just as you're a few steps away from the bar, he calls out to you. "Hey, Y/N, wait up." you ignore him and pick up your pace, heading toward the beach.

Hangman increases his pace in response, determined to catch up to you. Despite your attempts to get away, he manages to catch up fairly easily, his long legs carrying him closer to you.

He reaches out and grabs your arm to stop you, his grip firm but not forceful. "Hey, hold up a sec."

You turn to face him with an irritated expression, “What is it now?”

Hangman grins at the irritation in your voice, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. He keeps a grip on your arm, holding you in place.

"Now, that's no way to talk to me, sugar." His eyes rake over your body, taking his time to appreciate your form in the darkness. "I was hoping we could have a little chat."

“About what?” you wriggle out of his grasp, moving further into the sand. Hangman follows you into the sand, his confident stride matching your quick steps. He keeps his eyes trained on you, a sly smile on his lips.

"Oh, there's a lot I'd like to talk about." He steps closer to you, his presence feeling oddly dominant as the beach becomes quieter. "But right now, I wanna know why you're so opposed to my attention."

“What’s wrong?” your arms cross under your chest as you drop into the sand, breathing in the refreshing breeze. “Not used to someone being so.. Put off by you?”

Hangman chuckles, your question clearly amuses him. He plops down in the sand beside you, sitting close enough that his thigh brushes against yours, your eyes focus on his clothed leg against your bare one.

"You could say that." He turns to face you, his eyes roaming over your body for a moment before meeting your gaze. "Most girls are putty in my hands. But you, you're different." your eyes roll at his response.

“That, there is exactly why I’m so opposed to you,” you lean back on your palms, “Your cocky attitude can't always get you what you want.” Hangman's smirk widens at your eye roll, clearly enjoying the banter between you two. He leans back in the sand as well, mirroring your position.

"Oh, you'd be surprised, sugar. My cocky attitude has gotten me a lot of things." He glances over at you, his eyes roaming over your figure once again. "But you..." He pauses, his voice dropping lower. "You're the first one who's actually resisted me."

You lean back into the sand, body relaxing into the ground. “You're such an ass,”

Hangman grins at your response, clearly enjoying your sharp tongue. He turns onto his side, resting his head in his hand as he gazes down at you.

"I won't deny that." He lifts his free hand, reaching out to playfully tug on a strand of your hair.

“So, if I gave into you,” you brush his hand away, “would you leave me alone?” eyes focusing on the night sky above you.

Hangman raises an eyebrow at your question, his cocky smile never faltering. He props himself up on an elbow, shifting closer to you in the sand.

"Now, why would I want to leave you alone if you gave in to me?" His eyes roam over your figure, a hunger in his gaze. "I'd want you all to myself."

You laugh sweetly, “You really don't strike me as the type to stick around, Hangman.”

Hangman grins at your comment, clearly finding your dismissal more amusing than irritating. He scoots closer again, his breath warm against your neck as he leans in.

"The name's Jake." His lips brush against the shell of your ear as he whispers his name, his tone suddenly lower, more intimate.

“Well, Jake.” you sit up, moving away from his body. “I think you should find a new girl to chase.”

Jake's smile falters slightly as you move away from him, disappointment flickering in his eyes. But he quickly recovers, his cocky demeanor returning.

He sits up as well, he gazes at you, his eyes roaming over your defensive form. "And why would I do that?” he asks, his voice almost a grumble.

“Because,” you study his expression, “I told you before, I’m not interested.” Jake's eyes narrow as you reiterate your lack of interest. Your stubbornness is both frustrating and strangely intriguing.

He leans closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Are you sure about that, sugar?" His voice has a hint of challenge in it. "You don't feel even a little bit interested?"

You move to your knees swiftly, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. As you pull away, you smile sweetly, “Now I’m 100% sure.”

Jake's eyes widen at the unexpected kiss, his cocky veneer slipping momentarily. He's completely taken aback by your boldness and the sweetness of your smile.

He just stares at you for a moment, clearly caught off guard. His confidence slowly returns, and a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh yeah?" he purrs, shifting closer to you again. "One little kiss, and you're already 100%, huh?"

“One kiss is all I needed,” you push his shoulder gently, adding distance back between your bodies. “I didn't even feel a thing.” you gulp as the lie spills from your lips, there was no way you would give him the pleasure of knowing he had sent shivers down your body.

Jake's smirk falters again, his ego clearly bruised by your words. He can't understand how you're unaffected by the kiss, especially when it had the complete opposite effect on him. He stays silent for a moment, his mind working to come up with a response.

"One kiss wasn't enough," he finally says, his tone a mix of irritation and determination. "No, I think you need another one just to be sure." his hands grasp your hips as he pulls you closer.

“Aw, come on Jake.” you don't resist his touch, “You don't want to come to terms with the fact that you might just be off your game?”

Jake's eyes darken at your words, clearly not appreciating your teasing. He pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours, his grip on your hips tight.

"My game is never off, especially with pretty girls like you." He leans in, his mouth just millimeters from yours. "In fact, I think I'll prove it by making you feel something."

“And how do you plan to do that, pretty boy?” you tease him further.

Jake's grip on your hips tightens as you call him "pretty boy," and you can see a flicker of irritation flash across his face. He's clearly not used to being undermined like this, especially by someone he finds *this* attractive.

With a swift movement, he flips you onto your back, pinning you down into the sand. He hovers over you, his body pressing against yours.

"Like this," he says, his voice low and gruff. "I'll make you feel something alright." his lips capture yours in a hungry kiss full of desire.

You let out a muffled noise, obviously caught off guard by his action. Jake takes full advantage of your surprise, his tongue slipping past your lips, and explores your mouth with ravenous desire. His body presses against you, his weight pressing you into the sand, and his hands begin to roam over your body, mapping out your curves.

You press your hands against his chest, pushing him away with a flustered expression. Jake pulls back, his breath heavy and ragged, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and triumph.

He gazes down at you, his eyes roaming over your flushed face and slightly messy hair. "See, sugar?" he grins. "I told you I'd make you feel something."

“You.. didn't.” you protest, “all you did was catch me off guard.” Jake chuckles at your reply, his eyes flickering over your form again, taking in the way your body looks beneath him.

"So, you're telling me that right now, you're not feeling anything right now?" His hand slides down your side, resting on your hip. "Not a single thing?"

“Not a single thing.” you parrot, breathlessly. Jake grins at your response, clearly not believing you.

His hand that was on your hip slowly moves up to your stomach, his thumb tracing slow, teasing circles on your bare skin. “Is that right, sugar?” he drawled. “Nothing at all?”

You suck in a deep breath as his calloused thumb, giving you goosebumps. “Mhm, nothin’.” you murmur. Jake's smirk deepens as he watches your reaction to his touch. He notices your goosebumps and the way you sucked in a breath, he clearly knows he's getting to you.

His hand moves from your stomach up to your waist, sliding under the hem of your shirt. His fingertips graze against your bare skin. You gasp at his touch, your breathing becoming ragged as his hand explores you.

Jake lets out a soft, guttural sound as he feels the effect he's having on you. His hand continues to move, his fingers lightly trailing over your skin, tracing the lines of your body. His eyes never leave your face, taking in every reaction.

"Still not feeling anything, sugar?" he teases, his voice a low, rumbling growl. Your eyes squeeze shut as your expression contorts with pleasure, you lean forward pressing your flushed face into his neck.

Jake lets out a soft laugh as you bury your face into his neck, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. His hand continues to explore your upper body, his touch sending small waves of pleasure through you.

He turns his head, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers. "You're losing, sugar."

“You've made your point,” your voice is a shaky whisper as you pull his hand away from your body, still focused on resisting him.

Jake lets out a low rumble, clearly not happy that you've pulled his hand away. He gazes down at you, his eyes darkened with a mix of desire and determination.

He moves his body even closer, his weight pressing you into the sand. His hand grasps your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His voice is low and gruff as he speaks. "I'm not finished proving my point, sugar."

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you raise your head to look up at him, “Please don't screw me over,” you want him just as much as he wants you, but you're not looking for a simple one night stand.

Jake’s gaze meets yours, his eyes searching yours for a moment before a soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "I won't," he says, his voice firm, his grip on your waist tight. "I’m done messing around, sugar. I want you for real."

You wrap your arms around his neck, lips hovering over his. Jake's arms wrap tighter around your waist, pressing you closer to his body. His gaze drops to your lips, his eyes darkening with desire.

"I won't hurt you, sugar." you connect your lips with his in a passionate kiss. Jake kisses you back with equal passion, his arms tightening around you, pulling you flush against him. His lips move hungrily against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you.

He pulls you closer, his hands roaming over your body, his touch claiming you as his. You moan against his lips as his hands squeeze your ass, pulling you closer to him. Jake smirks into the

kiss at your moan. He tightens his grip on your ass, pulling you closer, so close that you can feel his heartbeat against your chest.

He deepens the kiss, his mouth devouring yours, and his hands continue to roam over your curves, claiming every inch of you. You reluctantly pull away from his kisses, Jake grunts in protest as you pull away from him, his lips still seeking your skin. He nips playfully at your neck before leaning back to look at you.

“Jake, we should go somewhere a little more private.” you murmur softly as you stand, he follows you up.

"Yeah, somewhere more private," he agrees, his voice a low, gruff rumble. He slides his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. "I know a place."

“Lead the way,” your teeth capture your bottom lip as you look up at him. Jake grins at your words and the way your teeth graze your bottom lip. He squeezes your hand, his eyes darkened with hunger as he gazes down at you.

"Come with me," he murmurs, his voice edged with a hint of excitement. He begins walking, pulling you behind him, leading the way to a more private area.

“Where are we going?” you question while following close behind him. Jake looks back at you over his shoulder, a sly grin on his face.

"You'll see, sugar," he replies, his voice full of mystery. He continues to lead you through the base, eventually stopping in front of a door that leads to a small storage room. Jake looks around to make sure no one is watching before pulling you into the room with him.

Jake laughs softly at the surprised gasp that escapes your lips as your body collides with his. He locks the door behind him, sealing you both in the small storage room. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you closer to him, his eyes darkened with desire.

"Looks like we're all alone now," he purrs, his voice a low rumble. "Just how I like it." your hands slide up his shirt, fingers brushing over his strong abs.

“We’ll have to be quiet,” you whisper softly. Jake shudders slightly as your fingers roam over his abs, his muscles flexing beneath your touch.

Your words only further excite him, and he gazes down at you with darkened eyes. "Can you do that, Y/N? Keep quiet for me?" he teases, his grip on your waist tightening. You pull his shirt off, pressing soft kisses to his muscles.

“Can you stay quiet?” you mutter against his skin, sucking a soft mark into his collarbone.

Jake lets out a low, ragged moan as you pull off his shirt and press your lips to his skin, his eyes momentarily closing as he succumbs to your touch.

Your words send a shiver down his spine, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. "Is that a challenge, sugar?" he murmurs, his fingers grasping your hips tightly.

“Of course,” you suck another mark into his skin, your hands traveling down his stomach before landing on his erection. Jake's body tightens as your mouth moves against his skin, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. He shivers beneath your touch, his hands flexing against your hips.

When your hands move lower, he gasps softly, his eyes closing as his length stiffens against your touch. "Careful," he grits out, his voice strained. He moves, pressing your back against the wall, trapping you in his arms.

Jake's need for you is palpable as he desperately pulls away your clothes, his eyes never leaving yours. The cropped shirt is first to go, revealing your lacy bra. His fingers make quick work of the clasp, freeing your breasts to his eager gaze.

The look on his face is pure desire as he takes in your bare skin, his breath coming in short, ragged pants. His rough, calloused hands skim over your curves, sending waves of heat through your body as he pushes down your shorts and panties. The sand from the beach clings to your skin, but it's your own heat that you feel more intensely.

His eyes are dark with passion as he takes in the sight of you, fully exposed and vulnerable before him. The anticipation is almost unbearable as he trails kisses along your collarbone, down your chest, and over the sensitive peaks of your breasts. Each touch feels like a brand, claiming you as his own.

With trembling hands, you reach down to Jake's belt, pulling it open with a quiet jingle of the buckle. His eyes never leave yours as you unbutton his pants, sliding them down his hips, along with his boxers. His erection springs free, and he groans as your fingertips graze over it. You wrap your hand around him, feeling the heat and hardness of his desire.

The room seems to shrink around you as your breaths mingle, the tension between you thick with passion. Jake's hands glide over your bare skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touch. He steps closer, aligning his body with yours, his length pressing against your stomach as he nips at your earlobe. "Are you sure about this, sugar?" he whispers, his voice strained with need.

“Yes, please.” You moan out your own desire clouding any remaining doubt. He lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist, and you guide him to your entrance, the anticipation making your body tremble. With one swift, powerful thrust, he fills you, eliciting a soft cry from your lips.

The sensation is overwhelming, his thickness stretching and filling you in a way that no one else ever has.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, holding onto him as he begins to move, his hips driving into yours with a passion that matches the rhythm of his racing heart beat. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you bite down on your lip to stifle the moans that threaten to spill out.

Your eyes lock onto his, and in that moment, you realize that this isn't just about the chase anymore. There's something deeper, something raw and real connecting the two of you. And as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment, you know that no matter what happens after tonight, you've found something worth fighting for.

With the door to the storage room firmly locked behind you, Jake's passionate onslaught leaves you gasping for air. You muffle your moans by biting onto his shoulder as he thrusts into you with a newfound speed, his movements becoming more urgent and powerful with each passing second. His teeth graze the soft skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he marks you as his.

The sound of your bodies slapping together echoes softly in the confined space, mixing with the muffled sounds of the base outside. His muscles tense and release beneath your grip, his grunts of pleasure becoming more pronounced. The sand clinging to your skin is a stark reminder of where you are, but all you can focus on is the fire burning between your legs.

The scent of sex fills the air, and you can feel the heat of his desire for you, his need to claim you completely. His hands move to your hips, guiding your movements, urging you to meet his every thrust. The friction builds, a delicious pressure coiling in your stomach, and you know you won't be able to keep quiet much longer.

His eyes bore into yours, a silent question that you answer with a nod, giving him the go-ahead to unleash his full passion on you. And as the first wave of your climax hits, you let out a soft, needy cry that's quickly swallowed by his mouth, his own release not far behind.

Your bodies shudder together, clinging tightly as the intensity of the moment overwhelms you. For a brief second, you forget where you are, lost in the pleasure of his touch, the feel of him deep inside you.

Jake's body trembles as he comes down from his high, his heart still racing. He holds you close, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hands continue to roam over your skin, his touch gentler now, a possessive yet loving caress.

His eyes are still darkened with desire, but there's a new tenderness in his gaze. He looks down at you, his lips finding yours in a slow and gentle kiss. Your fingers trace his muscles as you pull away for a breath, chest rapidly rising and falling. You reach for your discarded clothes, beginning to dress again.

Jake watches you as you begin to dress again, a faint frown of disappointment on his face. He leans against the wall, his eyes never leaving your body as you pull on your clothes.

“Can’t you just stay like that?” he teases, his voice gruff. You kiss his lips sweetly while buttoning your shorts.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smirk softly as he gazes down at you with pure desire.

Jake grins at your response, his arms encircling your waist once again. He can't help himself, the sight of you dressing is somehow unbearably seductive.

"You know damn well I would," he rumbles, his thumbs caressing the exposed skin of your waist.

His fingers move to pull at your shirt as he tries to undress you again. You playfully smack his hands away, “Won’t your coworkers be looking for you soon?” Your voice is a soft warning.

Jake frowns in disappointment as you swat his hands away from your shirt, a small huff of frustration leaving his lips. He knows you're right, and he knows that he needs to get back to work. But his body still aches for you, the taste of you still on his tongue.

"You're ruining my fun, Y/N," he pouts, his hands moving down to grab your hips instead. Jake's lips find your neck again, his mouth and tongue caressing the sensitive skin as he kisses and nips at your flesh. His body presses closer to yours, his hands pulling you flush against him.

He groans softly, his frustration at being interrupted clear in the sound. "Seriously, sugar. Can't I just stay here with you?" he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Mm, pretty boy,” you groan out the nickname you gave him, “I wish we could stay here, but if anyone needs in.. and finds the door locked,”

Jake growls softly in protest, his teeth gently biting your neck at your use of the nickname "pretty boy." He knows you're right, but he still doesn't want to leave.

"I hate when you're logical," he complains, his hands running down to grip your hips, pulling you closer to him. His lips find your ear, his voice a low, possessive murmur.

But his body aches for you, and he doesn't want to let you go. His mouth is still against your neck as his hands wander your body.

“We really should leave Jake..” you murmur softly while leaning into his intoxicating touch.

Jake lets out a deep, shaky sigh as you lean into his touch. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, committing your scent to memory. He knows you're right, but he doesn't want to admit it.

"I know, sugar," he mutters, his voice raspy and filled with reluctance. "But I'm not ready to let you go yet." His arms move around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

Before you can protest again, the familiar voices of his fellow pilots ring out from outside the door. “Hey, do you know where Hangman went?” Coyote questions the man he’s with.

“Nah no idea, last I saw he was following Y/N out of the bar.” Fanboy replies, their voices getting fainter as they pass by the door.

Jake freezes as he hears the voices of his fellow pilots outside the door. His body tenses against yours as he recognizes Coyote and Fanboy's voices. He lets out a low curse, his eyes darting to the door in alarm.

For a moment, he contemplates ignoring them and staying in the storage room with you but he knows that's not an option. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with reluctance as he mutters a curse. "They're looking for me..."

“Don’t make them search for too long,” you reply with a soft smile, your arms dropping from his warm body.

Jake's body immediately misses the feel of your touch as your arms drop from his body. He watches you with thinly veiled longing, his fingers itching to pull you back against him.

He sighs deeply, his shoulders slumping in resignation. He knows he has to go, but he doesn't want to leave you. He reaches out and gently cups your face in his hand, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

"Give me your number," he mutters, his voice thick with authority. You hand him your phone for him to put his contact information in, he presses a gentle kiss to your head before begrudgingly leaving you alone in the storage room.

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