#Phoenix Windshield Replacement | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vivalas-vega · 2 years

Text

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part three

hehe two parts in one day. it’s my weekend and I was on a roll. here’s a long fluffy, kinda sad but mostly silly chapter!!! turns out cobra is a bigger softy than she lets on ;)

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part three

add yourself to my taglist

one / two

word count: 4k

warnings: language, hangman is whipped

tag list: @potato-girl99981 @olliepig @roosters-girl @angelbabyange @loveforaugust

The air was growing suffocating in your car as you pondered your options… sat along the side of a deserted road just outside of the city you cursed yourself for not springing for a new car when you had the chance. Something about saving the money for something else because your old girl had never failed you. You opened your phone as you manually rolled the window down and clicked Rooster’s contact.

“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered, sounding out of breath.

“Hey Roo, I need- are you okay? You sound like you’re being chased.”

“Well… that’s because I am.”

“Uh… okay? Why?” you asked, laughing a little.

“I’m actually- uh, oh fuck.” You frowned a little as you heard grunting on the other end, “I’m on a date. Had the idea of taking her to laser tag but I’m getting my ass beat. Did you need something?”

“No, nevermind, enjoy your date. Use protection.” you said, sighing as you hung up. You mentally ran through your list of options… Phoenix was spending time with her girlfriend, Coyote and Fanboy were seeing a movie they’ve been talking about for weeks on end, Bob had taken a quick trip to see his family, Payback had said something along the lines of ‘if any of you call me over this break I will personally see to it you’re shot out of the sky’, which only left you with one option. You could call a tow, but it really only seemed as if you needed a jumpstart, calling would be a slightly over dramatic and costly reaction to your current predicament. With a groan you clicked Hangman’s contact, bringing it to your ear as it rang.

“Well I’ll be, a phone call? In the middle of the day? Knew you’d realize I was irresistible sooner or later.” You could practically hear the smirk.

“Can it. I need your help.” Your nerves were fried as you opened your car door, stepping out into the San Diego heat which was only a few degrees cooler than the inside of your car, not giving you the respite you were hoping for.

“What’s going on, are you okay?” Any sense of teasing was gone and was instead replaced with urgent concern.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine but uh… well my car is not. I drove out to La Jolla and took a wrong turn somewhere and old Betsy thought this was the best possible place to give out on me. I think I just need a jump,” you sighed, walking around to the front of your car and leaning on the hood.

“Betsy?” he questioned, and you could already hear the sound of his keys and his car door closing in the background.

“Betsy is my car, I’m taking no further questions on the matter.”

“Alright, drop a pin I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You hung up and did what he asked, looking around you and trying to figure out what to do to pass the time while you waited. You walked around to the back of your car, propping the windshield up, dropping the tailgate and hopping on. You rooted around in the back, grabbing your emergency kit and pulling out some long expired granola bars, a change of clothes and a few bottles of water. You quickly chugged an entire bottle before grabbing the pair of gym shorts and walking around the side of your car, quickly removing your yoga pants and slipping them on after taking a few glances in either direction. You returned to your previous perch, opening Instagram and mindlessly scrolling, leaving a rather lewd albeit supportive comment on Phoenix’s most recent selfie, and a thumbs down emoji on Rooster’s gym pictures.

Checking the time you’d realized it’d been about fifteen minutes since texting Hangman and hoped he’d be here soon. The heat was really starting to get to you and you pulled your oversized tee off and threw it somewhere in your car, desperate to feel even a little bit of a breeze as you sat now just in your sports bra and shorts. Sure enough as you were struggling to turn an abandoned book into a makeshift fan you heard the crunch of gravel as a car pulled up, and you walked around your car to see Hangman with what looked like an ice cold bottle of water.

“Sorry it took a while, made a pit stop because I thought you’d want this,” he said, tossing it to you and you caught it with ease, immediately pressing it to your neck.

“You thought right, thank you,” you said, watching as he popped the hood of your car.

“Alright, let’s see if we can get this old bat running.” You watched as he connected both of your cars, scowling when he swatted your hand away as you tried to help. “What were you up to today?”

“Hike, there’s a really beautiful spot in Torrey Pines. I’d heard about a good brunch spot away from the beach but apparently my navigational skills are shit when I’m not in the air.”

“Should be good, go give her a whirl,” he said as he got into his truck and started the engine. You let out a groan as your engine made a valiant effort to come back to life, but ultimately decided against giving you a win today. You shook your head at him as he watched you through his windshield and he turned it off and hopped out, disconnecting the cables and taking a look around. He pulled out your dipstick, absolutely barren, spare the last half inch that had a glob of dark brown sludge hanging onto the end and he just looked at you in horror. “Sweetheart, when was the last time you got an oil change?”

“Uh, well…” you took a moment to peer inside your car, looking at the sticker and reading when you were supposed to get your last change, “says here I was supposed to get it at 183,457 miles.”

“And how many miles are you currently at?” You checked the odometer.

“189,433.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, replacing the stick and putting his hands on his hips as he looked at you with what you assumed was his best ‘disapproving dad’ look. “It’s honestly a miracle it just died on you and you didn’t blow a gasket or worse.”

“I forgot,” you shrugged.

“The sticker is right there! Like, literally, right in front of you every time you’re driving.”

“I’m a responsible driver, I don’t look anywhere but the road.”

“Responsible driver,” he mumbled, shaking his head and pulling out his phone, “so responsible you go almost six thousand miles past your oil change requirements,” he continued mumbling as he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” He looked at you like you had two heads.

“Who am I- a fucking tow truck.” he said exasperated and you raised your hands in surrender. You listened as he gave directions to the tow company and sighed as you looked at your car, knowing the last time you took her in for work the mechanic strongly recommended you let him keep it for scrap. “Come on, they’ll be here soon,” he opened the passenger side and you climbed in, grateful when he turned the AC on.

“Thank you for coming to witness the death of my car,” you said, giving him a small smile.

“Can I ask why you’re still driving that junker around?”

“Watch your mouth, Betsy is an old bird but she still has a heart… feelings,” you said, pointing a finger at him and he chuckled at your angry expression, “I’m serious!” You leaned across the console to hit his chest. “I’ve had her since high school, she was my mom’s car before she got passed along to me. I have a lot of memories in there, her driving me to and from practices, school dances… I had a lot of my firsts in there once I got her.” You looked ahead at Betsy, in all her glory, with her hood propped open and covered in dust from the unpaved road.

“Okay, so take a photo and keep it in a scrapbook.”

You sighed, “you don’t get it… I’ve shipped her everywhere I’ve been stationed, she literally saw me through diapers to where I am now. Every version of myself has been in that car,” you said sadly.

“Honey, she’s unsafe at this point.”

“I know, I just… I didn’t want to let her go.” Just as you said this the tow truck pulled up and you rushed out to meet him, the two of you standing off to the side while he examined the engine.

“Sorry kid, but I don’t think there’s anything I can do.” You nodded, looking at Hangman before turning back to the mechanic.

“Can you uh, I just need a minute.” you said, getting into the car and closing the door. Your hands gripped the steering wheel as you took a deep breath, “well, old girl, looks like the time has finally come.” You looked into the backseat, feeling emotion bubble up as you saw where your car seat had once rested, where you sang along to Britney Spears with your childhood friends, where Luke Something had deflowered you on your prom night, where you crammed a few boxes and a suitcase before departing for the Naval Academy. You pulled the mix of high school graduation tassels, your first set of dog tags, and a horribly tacky necklace Henry had bought you from a gumball machine from the rearview mirror before grabbing any relevant items from the glove compartment and front seat. You held the mix of items in your lap, taking one final moment and affectionately rubbing the dashboard. “Thank you, Betsy. You’ve been the best adventure buddy a girl could ask for.”

You got out with a sigh, wiping a few tears away with your freehand as you precariously held the mix of memories and your purse under your arm and Hangman quickly grabbed them for you, placing them in the cab of his truck. The mechanic had since closed your hood, and you took a moment to do what Hangman had suggested and snapped a photo, fighting back another round of tears as you approached the mechanic to give him your information to bill for the tow.

“Don’t worry about it kid, don’t think I could charge you in good faith when you’re this torn up.”

“No, I don’t want to waste your time-”

“I’ll get money from the scrap, word of advice… get a new car this go around, and change the oil.” he said waving you off and you couldn’t help but start crying.

“Honey, it’s just a car,” Hangman said, pulling you into his side as you watched the man and his helper load her up onto the back, “you still have the memories.”

“They’re taking her for scrap. She’s going to be stripped and sold for parts,” you all but blubbered and he soothingly rubbed your back as you wrapped your arms around him. “What a terribly dishonorable way to go.” He continued to hold you as they began to pull away, and you buried your face in his chest, not being able to bear the sight.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing you tight. He couldn’t help but find the whole thing adorable, your deep attachment to the car and the way you cried as if it was a dear friend ripped from you too soon, and not a car he would have guessed was on its last leg about five years ago. “Okay honey, here’s what we’re going to do,” he pulled away slightly once you’d calmed down, wiping the tears from your cheeks and noting how you kept your arms right where they’d been, tightly wrapped around him. “We’re going to head down to the nearest car dealership,” you started shaking your head, feeling another wave of tears coming on, “no, no no,” he wiped them before they could fall, “we’re going to go to the dealership, we’re going to find the car that reminds you the most of Betsy, and we’re going to get you all squared away with her, okay?” You sniffled and nodded, finally detaching yourself from him and dejectedly getting into the truck.

“I’m sure this is not how you planned on spending your day,” you finally said as you made your way back into the city.

“Certainly not, but I’m glad to be here in your time of need. It’s what friends are for,” he said, shooting you a smile before returning his attention to the road and you nodded.

“It must look rather silly, getting so worked up over a car.”

“Not at all, you had a lot of big milestones with Betsy, I know it must be hard letting her go.” He reached behind the seat at a red light, grabbing two pieces of metal and placing them in your lap, “had the mechanic take that off for you while you were saying goodbye.” Your fingers wrapped around the metallic word of the make of your car, the identifying emblem that was covered in nicks and scratches, the foil peeling around the edges and the dusty license plate.

“Jake,” you sighed, looking over at him, “that was… this is really thoughtful, thank you.” You smiled at him, fighting another wave of emotion. You pulled into a car lot, surrounded by newer, shinier cars that in your mind didn’t hold a candle to your own but figured they would have to do. He reached behind the seat again, rooting around in his gym bag and procuring a well-worn Top Gun shirt.

“Not that I don’t love this view,” his eyes glancing down at your chest, “but I’m sure you don’t want creepy car salesmen thinking the same.” You were momentarily disappointed, remembering you’d left your top and yoga pants in the back of the car but let it go before slipping the shirt over your head, trying not to dwell too much on how it smelled like Jake.

“I don’t want you thinking it either, Bagman,” you muttered, accepting his hand as he helped you jump out of the truck.

“Hey, there she is,” he nudged your shoulder as you walked in the front door, immediately greeted by an overly eager salesman and his rather pungent cheap cologne. He led you over to a table where you rattled off a list of things you were looking for… Four wheel drive, AC, noted that upgrading to a bluetooth system wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world and before you knew it you were strolling through the lot looking at potential options.

“What about this one?” Hangman asked, gesturing towards a Jeep, and the man opened the drivers side so you could hop in.

“It smells new,” you observed as Hangman got in next to you.

“Well, that’s because it is.”

“I want the faint cigarette and weed smoke smell I dedicated my entire high school career to embedding into the upholstery.” He chuckled at this, beginning to point out all the cool features.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have your GPS right here, instead of dangerously on your phone?” he asked, pointing to the screen in the dashboard.

“It’s so fancy.”

“Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you but this is actually pretty standard as far as new cars go.”

You scoffed before taking a moment to look around, “I guess it’s not terrible.”

“See? And it's not quite the same shade of green as Betsy, but it’s close, right?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, fiddling with the rearview mirror.

“What do you think? I think it’ll be great for all your new adventures and new memories.” he prodded, trying to get you excited about it.

“It’ll do,” you nodded and he pumped his fist, deciding to take what he could get as you climbed out of the car.

“She’ll take it.”

-----

You later found yourself at the Hard Deck, nursing a spicy margarita as Hangman desperately tried to raise your spirits. Rooster and Phoenix walked in, talking about the sexy Jeep in the parking lot and you groaned, head colliding with the wooden bar top and they both looked at you confused.

“What did you do to her?” Rooster asked, placing a hand on your back.

“Me? What did I do? Oh, I don’t know, just rescued her off the side of the road and spent the better part of my day trying to get her stoked about her new ride.”

“The Jeep is yours?” Phoenix asked, accepting a beer from Penny.

“Yes,” you mumbled against your arm.

“And we’re upset about this?” Rooster asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We had to put Betsy to rest, it’s been a rough day.” Hangman explained and you just made an unintelligible noise.

“Betsy?” Rooster and Phoenix asked at the same time and Hangman just shook his head as you stood from the bar suddenly, ignoring the headrush and making your way to the jukebox.

“It’s like you people don’t even know me,” you muttered.

“I think this is a good time to mention this is her fourth margarita,” Hangman said, watching as you fumbled with the buttons.

“Fifth,” Penny corrected, causing the aviators to all look at her, “she pounded another one when you went to the bathroom.” They returned their attention to you, blinking incredulously as the sounds of Angel rang throughout the bar, causing every other patron to look your way confused and slightly annoyed.

“Oh my god,” Rooster said, mouth agape as he took in the scene before him.

“I didn’t even know this was on the jukebox,” Penny said. Phoenix stifled a laugh, watching as you leaned against the piano, clutching your drink with your eyes closed.

“I don’t think she was this upset when I almost died,” Rooster said, eyes growing concerned as you swayed before catching yourself and sinking onto the piano bench.

“Dude, you didn’t even see her on the side of the road. I’ve never seen her show so much emotion that wasn’t anger,” Hangman said.

“I can hear you.” you half-yelled, taking another sip of your drink and humming along to the song. “In the arms of the angel, fly awaaaay from here,” you sang drunkenly, and horribly out of tune and Rooster couldn’t contain it any longer, turning towards Penny as he laughed.

“Oh, this is bad,” Phoenix said, also succumbing to her giggles.

“Guys. Guys, guys,” you whisper shouted, gesturing them over and they slowly approached you, “a toast, to Betsy.” you said, sticking your now nearly-empty glass in the air.

“To Betsy,” they all said almost in the form of a question as they clinked their glasses to yours.

“It is customary,” you paused to hiccup, “at a wake to say nice things.” You looked at the rest of them expectantly, who looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Uh, Betsy was… well, she was a great car, very… vibrant?” Rooster said, hoping it would satisfy you and you nodded along.

“Yes she was,” you mumbled.

“Truly a dependable car, there when you needed her,” Phoenix said.

“You have no idea,” you sniffled.

“I was only there for her final moments, and she went with grace.” Hangman finished and you held your glass up, Rooster biting his lip to contain himself as you cheers’d again.

“What the fuck is going on?” Fanboy asked, as him and Coyote walked in the bar and Penny just shook her head.

“Apparently a wake, don’t ask.” She said, setting two beers in front of them. The rest of the evening went by smoothly, the gang slipping into their usual routine with the added running of interference to keep you from playing sad songs on the jukebox. You watched as Rooster and Phoenix played pool, drinking the water Penny had insisted you switch to as your eyes grew rather heavy.

“You ready to head home, sweetheart?” Hangman asked, stepping in front of you and taking your glass to set on the table and you just nodded. “Did you come with Rooster?” he asked Phoenix who nodded and he fished your keys from your purse and pulled the car fob off to toss to her, “drive her car home whenever you’re done, I’ll cover your Uber.” He scooped you up as you half-heartedly waved to everyone, smiling as they told you to feel better.

“He’s so whipped,” Fanboy said, chuckling as the group watched you leave.

“Jake?” you asked as he buckled you into his truck and he looked down at you expectantly, “you’re a pretty good friend.”

“That I am, and you’re hammered, princess, so we’re going to get you home, okay?” He closed the door gently and jogged around to the drivers side, sighing as he saw you already falling asleep against the window. On the short drive to your house he thought to himself that he should have been annoyed, spending a day fetching you from the side of the road in the blazing heat, placating you as you cried, taking care of you while you drank yourself numb to toast the memory of a car but he wasn’t, not in the slightest. He honestly wouldn’t have rather been anywhere else than by your side during your time of need, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about the way his heart clenched when he saw your sleeping form in his truck, looking so peaceful in stark contradiction to the slight rings of mascara around your eyes. Even as he carried you to your porch, precariously balancing you as he fumbled to get your front door open he couldn’t find it in himself to muster a Hangman-esque comment, all he wanted to do was get you into bed safe and sound.

You whined as he set you upright on your bed, forcing you to stay sitting as he crouched before you to pull off your sneakers, “are you a socks-on or socks-off person for bed?” he asked.

“Off, do you think I’m some sort of psycho?”

He chuckled, “after today I’m not really sure what you are, darlin’.” He slipped them off and helped you crawl under the covers, disappearing momentarily to get you a glass of water and root around your kitchen cabinets until he found the ibuprofen, which he set on your nightstand when he returned. “Okay, honey, take those first thing when you wake up. I’ll call you in the morning,” he patted your shoulder as he went to take his leave and you forced your eyes open to look at him.

“You’re going?” you asked, your voice so small he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It appears my duties have been fulfilled.”

“I don’t think so,” you responded and he looked down inquisitively, “will you stay?” you asked, patting the bed beside you.

“Luring me into your quarters at this time of night? What do you take me for, a floozy?” he joked, placing a hand on his chest.

“That’s exactly what I take you for.”

“That’s insulting, sweetheart. As tempting as you’re making this sound, I think you should get some rest.” You just pawed at his hand gripping it and looking up at him with the saddest puppy dog eyes you could muster. He sighed, leaning up to turn your lamp off and walking around your bed, where he internally debated whether or not he should keep his shorts on. He decided to slip them off, already knowing you’d pitch a fit if you felt the rough chino fabric rub against you in the night and slid in beside you, careful to keep a safe distance, but that went out the window as you curled up against him, his arm instinctively raising so you could rest your head on his chest.

“Jake?” you asked and he hummed in acknowledgement, “thank you for today. It was really very cool of you.” You felt his chest rumble below you as he chuckled.

“Anytime, sweetheart, get some sleep,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and rubbing along your back as he waited for the sound of your breathing to even out. Looking down at your arm wrapped around him, head nuzzled into his chest he wiped his free hand along his face as he sighed.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

previous part / next part

#Jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman #hangman x reader #Hangman x Y/N #hangman x you #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

255 notes · View notes