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smok3r7 · 3 months ago

Text

Pinky Promise

Ofc x OCDads best-friend

18+, mature

2•Easter Lily

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: Fathers are supposed to be the ones taking care of their child, but Josephine’s life is the other way around. Her life is booze, her dad, and her dad’s best friend - what could go wrong?

Chapter summary: Life is full of surprises - good and bad ones.

Word count: 4.6k

Warning: unprotected piv, slight entomophobia, tags left out to avoid spoilers

—

The dawn morning sun cascades through Josephine’s emerald green bedroom, causing her to slowly open her eyes and be blinded for a moment. As she tries to sit up, a sharp pain shoots through her temples, making her groan in discomfort. Memories of the previous night flash through her mind - the laughter, the music, the endless flow of cocktails and shots.

The bull.

Joey.

Gingerly, she reaches for the glass of water on her bedside table that she smartly put out for herself last night. Each sip feels like a small victory against the dehydration that plagues her. With a sigh, Josephine swings her legs over the edge of her bed, willing herself to stand up.

The world spins alarmingly for a moment, but she steadies herself against the wall. The room feels somewhat unfamiliar, even though she’s lived here her whole life - something feels off.

Dragging herself along the wall, she stumbles into her warm toned bathroom as she pulls her tank top over her head onto the floor, followed by her shorts. Starting her shower, she lets the water warm up before she enters.

After a minute or two, she sticks her hand in and determines it’s hot just like she wants, stepping in and closing the glass door behind her, she lets the scolding water cascade over her tired body. As the steam envelopes her, she closes her eyes and tries to shake off the remnants of her wild night out.

Memories of dancing on tables, riding the bull, and laughing with friends remind her that she at least had a good time last night, along with Joey and the bike ride home. Despite the headache and the nausea threatening to resurface, Josephine can’t help but smile at the fun she had, even if it was short lived.

Josephine stands in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped around her, as she reviews her reflection. The steam from the shower envelopes the bathroom, making the mirror slightly foggy. She runs her fingers through her damp hair, feeling refreshed and revived after the long, hot shower. The pounding headache that plagued her earlier was now just a distant memory.

As she gets dressed for her morning run and prepares to face the day, a sense of dread creeps over her. She can’t shake off the feeling of impending trouble, and she knows it has to do with her dad. Josephine sighs and shakes it off before she makes her way downstairs, she wants to start fresh or at least, as fresh as she can.

At the bottom of the stairs, she finds her dad in the kitchen, a weary look on his face as he sits at the bar-style counter. Josephine raises an eyebrow as she walks in, studying him intently, her running shoes squeaking on the tile floor.

"What's going on, Neil?" she asks. She refuses to call him dad, at least to his face. It’s not a fitting name for him anymore.

He lets out a heavy sigh, setting down his cup, which she knows is filled with liquor. "I'm afraid- I think, I gotten’ myself into a bit of a mess, Josie," he slurs, avoiding her gaze completely, already drunk at nine in the morning.

Josephine's heart sinks. She knows he’s hallucinating again, ever since his liver started malfunctioning a year ago, him and his body just has never been the same. However, she’s also annoyed because this has become the new normal, and she wishes it wasn't.

Why does it have to be her taking care of him? She should be out living her own life, finding good friends and maybe even finding love. But she can’t, or at least she won’t let herself. So maybe it’s more herself that she’s really mad at.

“Neil,” she interrupts his drunken rant, “There’s nobody out to get you. You're delusional... Just go play your game or whatever.” She scoffs as she grabs her keys off the counter.

“Where are you going?” he slurs after her.

“For a run," she yells back as she heads out into the cool early morning air, biting her tongue before she says things she’ll regret later. The street is quiet, with only a few cars driving by on their way to work and different varieties of birds chirping and singing to each other.

Putting her keys into her shorts pocket, Josephine begins to run, her pace quickens with each step and with more intentions than she even knows.

The rhythmic pounding of her feet hitting the pavement drowns out the chaos of this morning. Running has become her solace, a way to escape the harsh reality of her life. She has come to learn that when he’s that drunk, she needs to not argue with him. It only leads to words being said that neither of them truly mean.

However, she is tired of dealing with Neil’s struggles, tired of pretending that everything is okay when it's not.

But she knows she can't abandon him, not now. He’s starting to get really bad again and his actions only keep worsening. If something happened to him if she left the house, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself.

As much as she hates him, she’s still daddy’s girl somewhere in her soul. It’s almost Stockholm syndrome except she’s not in love with her dad - it’s all because she loves him. There are times she wishes that she had no love for him, and she could simply let go of that fatherly love, but she just can’t.

She keeps running, her breath coming in ragged gasps, the steady pounding of her feet on the pavement a comforting rhythm. The thoughts of her father recede for a moment as she loses herself in the physical exertion.

Each step she takes feels like a liberation from the constraints of being Neil’s “parent”. The fresh morning air fills her lungs, invigorating her spirit as she runs faster and faster, her worries and fears left behind with each passing stride.

When she finally stops at the park that's a couple of miles from her neighborhood, she collapses onto a bench, her face flushed and her body covered in sweat. She closes her eyes, savoring the feeling of her pounding heart slowly returning to its regular pace.

The cool breeze gently caresses her skin, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers, cooling the sweat that clings to her body. For a moment, she is enveloped in blissful serenity - life seems okay for once.

Opening her eyes, she gazes up at the sky, the sun rising above her like a resplendent golden chariot. Its warm rays bathe her in a soft, ethereal light, casting a radiant glow over the tranquil surroundings of the park. Birds chirp melodiously in the trees, their songs harmonizing with the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. It’s so peaceful she finally feels a sense of genuine relief.

She inhales deeply, filling her lungs with the sweet scent of freedom and possibility. As she sits there, basking in the peaceful embrace of nature, she thinks about Joey and how there could possibly be something there, if they both tried.

The amount of times they’ve even slightly flirted with each other is astronomical, but neither of them, especially Josephine, would ever follow through. She wishes she did a couple times, just so she could feel something. She knows it’s selfish, but she needs that sometimes.

However, she knows the reality of their situation all too well. Both of them are guarded, too afraid to leap into the unknown and risk shattering the friendly relationship they have. And she knows that Joey whores around more than most, but she's not sure if that’s what he wants to do anymore. He’s getting to the age where most of his peers and friends around his age are having families, happy ones at that. Maybe he doesn’t want that life or maybe he does and just hasn’t met the right girl yet. Josephine softly chuckles to herself at the thought of Joey being a dad - he’d be an incredible one.

Joey deserves that.

Then there’s Josephine, in particular, who is hesitant to open herself up to the vulnerability that comes with letting someone in. Yet, there’s a part of her that longs for that connection, that spark of something more.

All she does is take care of Neil, go to work, and some weekends she gets to go out, but she wants more than those things; she wants Joey.

—

Josephine rounds the last corner before her street, and sees Joey tinkering away on his old black Mustang in his dimly lit garage. She slows down and takes a deep breath to steady herself before walking over to him. She needs to talk to him or fuck him, whatever comes first.

She needs to escape the chaos of her mind that followed her from her home, things that her run didn’t help get rid of.

“Hey, knucklehead.” Joey looks up from under the hood of his car, grease smudged on his face, at the sound of Josephine’s voice.

“Hey doll,” he smirks, “I’m busy, make it quick.” He wipes his hands on a rag, then goes right back to working under the car hood.

"I need to talk," Josephine sighs softly, her voice tinged with anger and annoyance.

“Well, start talkin’,” he grunts, “You got thirty seconds.”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” She annoyingly asks him, almost in disbelief.

“Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven…”

She scoffs at his childish behavior, but knowing Joey, it’s what she honestly expected. “I’m goin’ inside, come in when you’re done actin’ like a child,” she fights back, swiftly moving past Joey towards the door that leads into his kitchen.

You’ve got some nerve, he murmurs to himself as he tosses whatever tool he’s using into his toolbox on the ground next to him. Josephine can hear him mumbling to himself as he follows her same steps, she smiles to herself, just a matter of time before she can get what she wants.

“Now, what the hell do you-“

With a mischievous glint in her eye and a grin on her face, Josephine pushes Joey down onto the floor, not hard enough to hurt but enough for him to stumble. “Josephine- what the actual fuck?” He tries to push himself up, but she straddles his hips so he can’t - even though she knows he could easily push her hundred-and-thirty-pound body off of him.

But he doesn’t.

Her hands instantly find their way to his shirt, pulling it over his head with a sense of purpose. Josephine gazes down at him leaning on his elbows, her expression a mixture of longing and determination. “Told you, I need to talk,” she begins again, her hands now moving to her shirt, pulling it over her head and throwing it somewhere on the tile.

Joey watches in awe as she undresses herself and then him, her movements deliberate and tantalizing, having him in a trance like state.

“All you gotta do is lay here and let me be in control,” she purrs to him, unable to get over his scent; sweat, oil, and body wash from his shower earlier this morning.

“Doll,” he breathes out as he gazes at her tits that sit right in front of his eyes, down to where their hips meet and back up her ocean-colored orbs, “We shouldn’t do this…we can’t do this.”

She smirks at his poor attempt to stop her, “Why? Who can tell us no?” She leans into his left ear and whispers, “Don’t you wanna fuck me?”

Joey's heart races underneath her hand that now rests on his chest. Her words send shivers down his spine, but a part of him still resists. He knows that this is weird, that they’re playing with fire. But Josephine’s like a drug to him, intoxicating and irresistible, and he’s done his best to not get trapped.

As he looks into her eyes, he sees a flicker of mischief and desire that mirrors his own. She’s a doll come to life, a seductress who knows exactly how to push his buttons.

He feels himself losing control, succumbing to the magnetic pull between them. In a moment of weakness, he gives in to his desires. Their lips met in a fiery kiss that burns with passion and pent-up longing, his beard softly scratching her cheeks and chin. Every touch, every caress, sends electric currents through his body, leaving him breathless and wanting more.

She feels his bulge grow beneath her, matching the rhythm of their grinding bodies perfectly. Her touch is electric, sending shivers down Joey's spine as he follows her lead.

"Right there, Joey," she whimpers, her voice a mix of desire and authority. "Just like that."

Joey's hands tremble slightly as he traces the curves of her body, his touch tentative yet eager to please. With each caress, Josephine's desires become clearer, spurring Joey on to new heights of passion. She reaches down between them, freeing his cock from the confines of his boxers.

The air’s charged with anticipation as she positions herself above him, the heat between them like fire. With a slow, deliberate motion, she lowers herself onto him, relishing the feeling of fullness and connection that envelopes them both.

Her moans fill the kitchen, echoing off the tile floors and mingling with the sound of their breathless gasps. Each bounce she makes causes her to feel an exquisite sense of fullness and pleasure that radiates through her entire being.

Joey's hands grip her hips firmly, guiding her movements as they move together in perfect synchronicity. The air’s thick with the heady scent of lust and anticipation, swirling around them like a tangible force, binding them together in a dance of passion and ecstasy.

As they move as one, their bodies pressed tightly against each other, their skin flushes with heat and desire. In that moment, time seems to stand still as they lose themselves in the raw, primal intensity of one another.

The kitchen becomes their own private paradise, a sanctuary where they can surrender to their deepest desires and fantasies without fear or hesitation. Josephine's breathing comes in ragged gasps, her body alive with sensation. Joey's eyes bore into hers, a mix of longing and adoration that makes her heart race.

At this moment, nothing else exists for Josephine and Joey. It’s just the two of them, locked in a passionate embrace that transcends time and space. Each touch, each whisper, each shared breath brings them closer together, forging a bond that will not easily be broken.

Joey realizes that letting go of control is liberating. Allowing her to take charge brings a sense of freedom and bliss. However, a spark of determination ignites within Joey. He understands that while Josephine's dominance is intoxicating, there’s a part of her that yearns to be swept away in the same current of desire.

With a newfound sense of purpose, Joey sets out to show Josephine the pleasure of surrender, the ecstasy of vulnerability - something she’s never felt.

In a swift yet deliberate motion, Joey subtly shifts the dynamics between them, turning the tide of dominance towards Josephine. He swiftly hooks his right arm around her back and flips her over, to where she’s now on her back and Joey hovers over her.

Josephine's eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and longing at the man taking control, a hunger for submission stirring within her. Her anticipation grows, her body humming with electricity.

He presses his lips to hers in a possessive kiss before trailing fiery kisses down her neck and collarbone. "Let me show you how you should be taken care of, doll," Joey murmurs, his voice velvety and low, sending vibrations through her core. With deliberate intent, he presses his lips to hers, a promise of passion and raw need.

Joey's touch is both possessive and tender, igniting a fire within Josephine.

With a primal growl, Joey thrusts into her, their bodies melding together. Velvet walls envelope him, creating a world where only the two of them exist, lost in a sea of sensation and longing.

Her back arches, and she lets out a whimper at the exquisite sensation of being filled by him. Each powerful thrust sends ripples of pleasure coursing through her body, building the tension to an unbearable peak. She gasps and moans low as Joey's every movement sends waves of ecstasy through her.

Joey holds her hips firmly, his touch possessive yet tender. With each thrust, he delves deeper into her, looking down where they both connect he sees his cock and pubes wet with her slick. Stirring him on even more, causing him to move his hips more and lift her legs to his shoulders.

“Fuck, Joey,” she exhausts, a surge of desire building within her, her senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of their connection.

"I know baby, I know,” He comforts, “You take me so well, doll." His voice is husky with desire, his gaze locks onto hers. His words ignite a fire within her that threatens to consume her whole. She feels herself on the edge, teetering on the brink of something magnificent.

As Joey continues to move within her, each motion more powerful than the last, she feels herself unraveling. Her body responds to his touch with a fervor she has never experienced before. Every nerve ending seems to be set ablaze, her whole being focused on the man before her.

"Fuck, you look so pretty takin' my cock like a good girl," Joey's words are like fuel to the fire, pushing her closer to the edge. Josephine feels a whimper escape her lips, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes her.

As Joey continues to claim her in the most primal of ways, all the inhibitions she’s felt and the coil that’s been threatening to snap, finally go.

—

Josephine walks down the busy street early Sunday morning, the beginning of her work week at her first job, The Eastside Cafe. A job she’s had to have since she dropped out of college, that she’s learned to love over the years. She has made really good friends here, after all, working Sunday through Tuesday, three twelves.

Stepping into the cozy cafe, the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and the sound of sizzling bacon greets her. The cafe’s full with customers who are eagerly awaiting their brunch orders, hoping they make it to church on time. Walking behind the doors that separate the kitchen from the dining hall, she waves to her coworkers who all smile and greet back to her.

She grabs her apron that’s hanging on the back wall and ties it around her waist and gets to work, taking orders, serving food, and chatting with the customers. She’s become the employee that all the other coworkers love and need.

She knows how to do everything and keeps the place running, if she’s being honest with herself she knows she is worth more than what she earns. But she can’t risk losing this job, she’s got a good report here.

“Josephine, can you help me move these tables please?” asks Andrea, a coworker and friend of hers.

Andrea’s right around Josephine’s age and they go out whenever they’re both available. It’s rare - Andrea has a newborn baby girl and her baby’s dad isn’t in the picture. He ran off with one of Andrea's friends after he found out she was pregnant. Josephine tries to help out whenever she can, sending her twenty bucks here and there, and Andrea appreciates it immensely.

“Yep, comin,” Josephine finishes wiping up a table and pockets her rag as she walks towards the back corner.

“Thank you,” Andrea sighs, “Apparently a party of eleven are coming after church. I think it’s the same group from last week.”

“With the rude ass kids?” Josephine groans with a frown as she picks up one end of a table and puts it with the other.

All Andrea does is nod her head, setting down forks and knives that are wrapped in napkins, “And their insane parents, who don’t say anything to their kids about the behavior. Just downin’ their mimosas without a care to the world.”

“Ugh, I wanna leave,” Josephine whines, not because of the guests coming, but because she wants to see Joey again.

It’s just been over twenty-four hours since they slept together and much to her surprise, he’s actually been cool about it. After she went home yesterday and cleaned up after her run and extra cardio with him, she offered for him to come hang out in her pool and he accepted, bringing his two large German Shepherds; Celeste and Solar, a pair he’s had since they were eight weeks old.

The whole time he was over, it was like nothing changed. He was still the cocky guy with a smart ass mouth, who flirts just a little bit more than he should. Which Josephine loved. They talked about her potential return to school to actually do something with her life. She’s more than just her father’s caretaker, she’s meant to do more.

Joey and her had talked for hours between laying in the sun, playing with the dogs, and swimming in the pool on a surprisingly hot fall day. Every now and then, Joey would go check on Neil who was passed out on the couch the whole time, until the early evening when Josephine had to let Joey go home so she could make dinner for her dad and her.

As much as Josephine despised her father, she could never let him go hungry. But the rest of the night after she put Neil to sleep, Joey called her and just let her yell and yell about how things need to change. He stayed silent the whole time, nothing but a few grunts here and there.

Then this morning, she woke up to a note on her car reading, “Taking you for a ride when you get home. No saying no.” In Joey’s sloppy handwriting, barely legible. But it made Josephine's morning and showed her that her actions of yesterday didn't scare him away.

“How’s your other job goin’?” Andrea asks as they finish setting up the tables.

“Real good,” Josephine smiles, “I’m gettin’ good hours in but I just wish I didn’t have to, but I gotta do what I gotta do. Ya’know?”

Wednesday through Friday, Josephine's factory job begins, packaging chemicals for saunas and pools around the country. Saturdays have become Josephine's only rest day. It’s starting to take a toll on her, mentally and physically.

It’s times like this that she wishes her mom was still alive. Someone she could lean on when things get hard, someone who could give her motherly advice and tell her when she’s doing the wrong thing when she thinks it’s the right thing. Josephines just had to live with it her whole life, almost hating the fact that she was born without a mother and her being the cause of it.

Neil and her could be living in Rome like they always wanted, but Josephine had to be born instead. Life is so unfair sometimes.

—

"I'm back," Josephine's voice echoes through the empty house as she kicks off her work shoes. The silence that greets her is unsettling—no sound of the TV, no familiar vomiting noises, no jovial yelling from Neil.

Growing worried, she calls out for him, her voice tinged with worry as she searches every nook and cranny of the ground floor. But he’s nowhere to be found. Panic creeps into her voice as she continues to look, ascending the stairs two at a time, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Neil, where the hell are you?” Finally, reaching the upstairs bathroom, the door slightly ajar. Pushing it open, she finds her father lying motionless on the cold tile floor. He’s pale, his lips tinged blue, and there’s no hint of breath escaping his unmoving chest.

With trembling hands, Josephine dials 911, her voice straining as she panics to the operator. The younger woman guides Josephine through the steps of CPR, and she drops to her knees, tears welling in her eyes as she presses hard against her father's chest, willing him to come back to life.

“Please wake up, dad,” she cries, snot and tears mixing into one liquid that drops onto her dads vomit stained shirt. He can’t die, she’s not ready for this. This can’t be happening right now, he was just fine when I went to work, how can this happen so quickly?

For four agonizing minutes, she performs CPR, each compression a desperate plea to fate.

One…two…three…four. One…two…three…four.

And then, like a beacon of hope, the blaring sirens of the ambulance cut through the suffocating silence.

“I’m upstairs!” Josephine screams towards the bathroom door, praying they hear her. The paramedics rush in, their calm professionalism a stark contrast to Josephine's frantic state. She steps back, her chest heaving with exertion and emotion, as they take over. “I- I found him like-like this. I just got, um- home from work.” she weeps as the paramedics try to assist him.

Time seems to stand still as Josephine watches, a silent prayer on her lips. Her mind goes blank at the sight of the heart defibrillator and the sight of them cutting his shirt open, then placing it on his chest, shocking him. Then, as if in a miraculous dance with destiny, Neil's eyes flutter open, a raspy breath escaping his lips as he’s brought back from the brink.

“Thank god,” Josephine lets go of that lump in her throat that's been stuck since she couldn't find him. Relief floods through Josephine, her legs giving out beneath her as she sinks to the floor, overwhelmed but relieved. Neil is alive, saved by her quick thinking.

They load him into the ambulance quickly and leave within seconds, bringing him to the hospital. Josephine’s stuck standing in her driveway, watching the ambulance go further down her street, the flashing lights cast an eerie glow on the quiet street, until they take a right and she can’t see them anymore.

She stands in her driveway, unsure of what to do next. Her mind is filled with worry and fear, wondering what had happened to him while she was at work and if he will be okay. Tears well up in her eyes again and she just lets them fall.

As minutes pass, Josephine feels a sense of unease settle over her. The silence of the night is deafening, broken only by the distant sound of sirens, which she knows belong to Neil.

She doesn’t hear Joey running over to her, but apparently he does. "Josephine, what happened?" Joey's voice breaks through the haze of shock that carries her. Tears stream down her face as she struggles to find the words to explain the sudden turn of events that has shattered her life.

Unable to speak, Josephine simply looks at Joey with a mixture of fear and despair. Sensing her pain, Joey gently embraces her, offering a silent gesture of comfort and support. "Come here, doll," he grunts softly, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame.

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smok3r7 · 1 month ago

Text

Pinky Promise

OFC x OC Dads best-friend

18+, mature

3•Purple Hyacinth

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: Fathers are supposed to be the ones taking care of their child, but Josephine’s life is the other way around. Her life is booze, her dad, and her dad’s best friend - what could go wrong?

Chapter summary: All she wanted was a break…not to quit.

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: hospitals, funeral, tags left out to avoid spoilers

—

Josephine sits in the sterile and bleak hospital room, the mechanical beeping of machines surrounding her in an eerie symphony. Her father lays motionless on the bed, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with the help of the ventilator. She’s been by his side since he was rushed to the hospital four days ago, but now, she feels like a stranger in her own skin, in the same clothes from when she arrived.

Everyone from her grandparents to cousins have slowly made their appearance, trying their best to lighten the mood. Bringing her food she doesn’t eat, a change of clothes that she won’t change into, and trying to make her leave the room even if it’s for five minutes. But ultimately nothing works. She can’t seem to simply walk away from him because if only she stayed instead of working, she would’ve been there to save him.

Her eyes are dry, devoid of tears. She’s cried all she can, leaving her emotionally drained and numb. The reality of her father slipping into a coma has hit her like a ton of bricks, leaving her grappling with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

As she sits, finally alone with him, in the uncomfortable chair, Josephine's mind wanders to all the moments they shared together - the good and the bad. She wishes she could turn back time, make things right, keep some things left unsaid. But now, all she can do is hold his hand and pray for some type of miracle.

“Dad, let’s go ride the Maverick!” Josephine squeals to Neil who’s holding her hand with his right and a big fluffy bunny in the other, her small hand tightly gripping her dad's calloused fingers.

Neil gazes down at his daughter with a mixture of pride and concern, his heart swelling at her bravery. The summer sun beats down on them, casting long shadows on the pavement as the rollercoaster roars past them, and riders' screams fill the air.

"Are you sure you're up for this, pumpkin?" Neil asks, his voice laced with both amusement and worry. Josephine nods vigorously, her curly hair bouncing with excitement.

Josephine puts her hand up like a visor to her eyes as she looks up to the massive coaster, listening to the screams of terror and joy from people on it as it flies by them. Her heart pounds in excitement and anticipation, she knows she wants to ride it.

She looks from the coaster to her dad, who’s staring down at her in complete awe that she even wants to ride something so big at such a young age.

“Let’s do it dad!”

Neil smiles, unable to resist his daughter's infectious enthusiasm.

Together, they join the line for the Maverick, the air crackling with a sense of adventure. Neil keeps a watchful eye on Josephine as they inch closer to the front, his protective instincts in overdrive. Josephine, on the other hand, is a bundle of nerves and excitement, fidgeting with her bunny as she steals glances at the towering coaster.

Finally, it's their turn. The person checking peoples heights asks Josephine to step over under the wooden measurement cut out, to make sure she’s tall enough. Luckily, for an eleven year old, she’s taller than most. “You’re all set,” the teenager tells her, causing her to jump up and down as Neil chuckles at her.

Neil then helps Josephine settle into the seat, securing the safety bar in place with practiced hands. As the coaster lurches forward, Josephine's heart races in time with the clatter of the wheels on the tracks. The world blurs around them as they hurtle through twists and turns, and Josephine's laughter mingles with the screams of the fellow riders.

As the Maverick screeches to a halt, Neil turns to Josephine, his eyes filled with pride and awe. She looks back at him, her face flushed with excitement, a wide grin lighting up her features.

"That was insane!" Josephine exclaims, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. Neil hugs her back, overcome with love for his brave, adventurous daughter.

And as they walk away from the Maverick, hand in hand, Josephine can’t stop smiling and looking up at her dad. “Thank you dad, for bringing me. Love you!”

“I love you too, pumpkin.”

The tears start to pour again, the thought of never being able to do anything with her dad again, breaks her. Completely.

Josephine sits by her father's hospital bed, her eyes fixate on his right arm, a tattoo of her nickname, Pumpkin, etched permanently in bold black ink. She reaches out and gently traces the letters with her fingertips, feeling the rough texture against her skin.

As she holds onto his arm, a wave of sadness washes over her, and she begins to hyperventilate. This is all too real, too final. She never imagined that she would have to say goodbye to Neil like this. Tears well up in her eyes as she struggles to keep her composure.

She wants so badly to hear him say he was sorry, to hear him say he loves her.

But the reality is harsh and unforgiving.

The ventilator, with its rhythmic whooshing sounds, only serve to remind her of the gravity of the situation, of the looming goodbye that waits just around the corner. Josephine closes her eyes, trying to block out the beeping of the machines and the sterile smell of the hospital room.

She focuses on the sound of her father's breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as the ventilator does its job. Each breath he takes feels like a stab to her heart, a painful reminder of what’s slipping away from her. She leans in closer, pressing her forehead against his arm, willing him to wake up, to open his eyes and smile at her one last time. But he remains still, his eyes closed, his chest moving up and down in a steady rhythm.

With a trembling hand, Josephine reaches out and grasps her father's hand, the one without the tattoo. She squeezes it tightly, hoping to feel some sign of life, some response from him. But his hand lays limp in hers, unresponsive and cold.

As the reality of the situation sinks in, Josephine feels a deep sense of loss wash over her. She knows that she will never get the apology she longs for, or the words of love she craves. All she has now are memories, fading like old photographs in the attic of her mind.

With a heavy heart, Josephine leans in and places a gentle kiss on her father's cheek. She whispers, "I love you, Dad," knowing that he might never hear her words.

—

“Jo, can you at least come step out here for a moment,” Joey pleads with her. She hasn’t left this room in a week and he can see that it’s taking a toll on her. “Please?”

Shifting her gaze from Neil to Joey, she feels a surge of relief wash over her. He’s been in and out of the hospital since she called the ambulance, but something about today feels different. Joey's eyes mirror the concern and compassion she craves, and in that moment, she finds a small sense of solace. The look on his face speaks volumes, conveying a silent promise to be there for her in this trying time.

With a subtle nod, Josephine gathers the strength she has left and slowly rises to her feet. Her legs tremble beneath her, almost jelly-like, and her mind is foggy with a mix of fear and uncertainty. She leans down to kiss her father on the forehead, whispering reassurances that she’ll be right back.

The rhythmic sound of the ventilator hauntingly punctuates the room, a stark reminder of Neil's fragile state. The sight of him battling for each breath tears at Josephine's heart, but she knows she needs to step away, if only for a moment.

As she walks towards Joey, a wave of emotions crashes over her, threatening to consume her fragile composure. Stepping into the hallway, she feels the weight of the world on her shoulders, the uncertainty of the future looming large.

Suddenly, almost instinctively, Josephine finds herself cocooned in Joey's arms. His warmth and familiar scent wrap around her, offering a sense of security she desperately needs. Without a word, she buries her face in his chest, letting her tears flow freely.

"I missed you," she whispers hoarsely, her voice cracking. In that moment, all the unspoken words and emotions pass between them, a silent understanding that transcends any spoken language.

Joey holds her close, offering silent support and a shoulder to lean on in her darkest hour. “I did too, doll.” His heart sinks as Josephine's trembling body leans against him, seeking solace in his embrace. The hospital is suffocating with its antiseptic scent and the sound of machines beeping rhythmically in the background, he can’t believe she’s been here the whole week. No wonder she looks and feels this defeated. He can feel the way her body shakes with each breath she takes.

Joey whispers comforting words, his voice strained with the weight of the situation. "Shh, doll. Just try to relax, ‘kay?" Joey's words are soft, barely audible above the hum of the busy hallway of nurses and doctors. His arms hold her tightly, as if through the sheer force of his embrace he can shield her from the pain and uncertainty that hangs in the air.

Even though his own heart is breaking, Joey focuses all his energy on being here for Josephine, while his best friend - and his lover's father - lay motionless in the hospital bed, engulfed in a deep coma. Seeing Josephine crumble under the weight of her fear and grief is like a knife twisting in Joey's chest. It’s the complete opposite of her strong, independent personality.

As Josephine's sobs grow louder, Joey feels a surge of helplessness wash over him. He wishes he could trade places with her, bear the burden of this unbearable situation and spare her from this anguish. But life has dealt them a cruel hand, and all they can do is weather the storm together.

"So what did they say?" Joey's voice is steady, a lifeline in the turbulence of emotions that threaten to consume them both. Josephine hiccups against his chest, her grip on him unyielding, as if he’s the anchor keeping her grounded in this storm. It is something neither of them could have ever expected.

"If he doesn’t...wake up, by Friday…" Josephine's voice trails off, the unspoken words heavy in the air between them. Joey's heart clenches in his chest, the magnitude of her words echoing in the hallway.

"Shhh," Joey interrupts gently, his hand coming up to stroke her hair in a soothing gesture. He doesn’t need Josephine to finish that sentence; the unspoken fear hangs between them like a dark cloud. In that moment, as Joey holds Josephine in his arms, he makes a silent vow to be her rock, her unwavering support through whatever may come. The future is uncertain, filled with shadows of possibility both hopeful and bleak.

After a couple more minutes of silence, Josephine raises her tear-stained face from Joey's chest, her heart heavy with a mix of sorrow and love. As she stands on her tiptoes to reach his lips for a kiss, she can feel the intensity of their emotions in that one moment of connection. Joey accepts the kiss, his own eyes reflecting a deep sadness that mirrors her own.

"Thank you," she whispers softly, and her words hang in the air like a fragile thread. Their bond is a bittersweet mixture of pain and affection, each moment filled with unspoken words and silent promises.

Staring into Joey's eyes, Josephine feels a rush of gratitude and wonder. How has she come to be so fortunate as to have someone like him by her side? He is the missing piece she has been searching for, the rock that anchors her in the stormy seas of life.

In this hushed moment of shared grief and tenderness, Josephine realizes the depth of her feelings for Joey. He is not just a companion, but a soulmate who understands her in ways she never thought possible. Whatever this is between them, is a beacon of hope in the darkness, a fragile flame that refuses to be extinguished.

It’s weird how such sadness and darkness can shine light on some of the best things in life.

—

As family and friends walk into the gorgeous church with a somber silence, Josephine stands with Joey at the edge of the crowd, her eyes burning with anger and sorrow. Neil lays in the casket on the other side of the church, his face peaceful in death, but his life marred by addiction and turmoil. Josephine clenches her fists, struggling to contain the fury that boils within her.

She had warned him countless times about the destructive path he was on, pleading with him to seek help, to get sober. But he always brushed off her concerns with a careless shrug, drowning his sorrows in alcohol and drugs. And now, it has come to this – a funeral for a life cut short by addiction.

One that even his daughter couldn’t stop.

Joey places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his eyes red-rimmed from tears shed in private. He knows how much Neil’s downfall has hurt Josephine, how it has shattered her faith in him. But he also knows that she needs to put on a brave front for the sake of her family and friends gathered to pay their respects.

In the dimly lit church, Josephine somehow got pushed over to the casket after about an hour of people coming and going, and all she can do is stare at her dad's casket. And as she does, her eyes fill with tears of frustration and anger, not so much sorrow anymore. Josephine's anger boils inside her, fueled by the inability to confront him one last time.

The years of living with an alcoholic parent and enduring the chaos that came with it has left deep scars on Josephine's soul. Her life ultimately ended because he needed a caretaker, so her career was over before it started. She has longed for closure, for a chance to confront Neil one last time and let out all the pent-up anger and frustration that has consumed her for so long.

But now, with Neil lying lifeless before her, that opportunity is forever lost. Tears well up in Josephine's eyes, blurring her vision as the anger inside her threatens to take over the sadness. She wants to scream, to shake her father's lifeless body and demand answers that will never come.

As she stands there while family and friends of his come to give their condolences to her, a sudden wave of clarity washes over her. She realizes that her father's alcoholism has indeed wreaked havoc on her life, leaving behind a trail of broken promises and shattered dreams.

"Come on, Jo," Joey whispers softly. "I know you're angry, but ya gotta be strong for yourself."

“But-“ She turns to him to try to rebuke him, but he puts his index finger to her mouth.

“No buts, doll. You don’t have a choice right now, being cordial is the only option.” He sincerely tells her but tries to be as polite as he can be with her, because even though he loves to play with her, right now is not the time.

Reluctantly, Josephine sighs and nods, preparing herself for the ordeal ahead. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat so people can hear her, however her heart is heavy with grief and resentment.

As she stands before the assembled mourners who are all staring at her, just waiting to see what she has to say, she suddenly feels a wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. There’s no way she can talk about how she really feels, because not everyone feels that way or even wants to hear about it at all. These kinds of things are supposed to be heartwarming but also sorrowful, not full of anger and resentment. It would be a child-like move on her part.

Taking a shaky breath, Josephine begins to speak, her voice trembling with pent-up emotion.

“He was the goofiest guy you could ever meet, his laughter lit up a room. I always remember him being embarrassed of his teeth, just cause they never laid perfectly and he never got braces for ‘em, but they were one of my favorite things about him. It made him different, he had the best smile and I always tried to make him laugh so I could see it.”

She chuckles to herself as her tears blur her vision as she reads from her crinkled piece of paper.

“It’s forever etched into my brain and I’m extremely thankful for that…I just wish he was still here so I could see him and his smile again.”

She speaks of her father's kindness, his flaws, only touching gently on his struggles with addiction.

“We all know he had his problems,” she says, “I wish he was able to get them under control, even if it was for a little bit. But I guess he just couldn’t do it. I know he loved me and wanted the best for me… I just wish he was able to see that I need him.”

She talks about the good times they had shared, the laughter and love that had once filled their home.

“I remember this one time,” Josephine laughs to herself, the memories playing in her mind like a movie. “I convinced him to take some shrooms with me, obviously I was of age you guys,” the church of people chuckles with her, “But we ended up in the backyard, layin’ on the grass ‘n we were just staring up at the leaves ‘n stars. The sky was so clear that we could see constellations on constellations…it was absolutely beautiful. Then suddenly, my dad raised his hand to the sky and went, ‘I feel like I’m floating in space, Pumpkin.’”

The sound of laughter floats towards her from different people listening to the tales of her father's antics and funny moments. It’s a strange juxtaposition to the weight of grief that hangs heavy in the air.

For weeks, Josephine has been drowning in sorrow, unable to find solace in anything. But then, amidst the sea of mourners, she hears a familiar sound that brings a glimmer of light to her dark world. It is Joey's laughter.

Turning slightly, she looks to her right and sees him with his bright eyes fixed on her, a genuine smile playing on his lips. In that moment, it is as if he’s silently conveying his pride and love for her. She longs to say the words that are stuck in her throat, to tell him how much he means to her, but the words refuse to come out.

Yet, despite the heaviness of the occasion, Josephine finds a strange comfort in the sound of laughter that surrounds her. It’s a bandage to her broken heart, a reminder that even in the depths of grief and anger, moments of joy and connection can still be found. But as she turns her attention back to her piece of paper, her emotions plateau again. When writing this the other day, she knew that she would have to bring up her mom in some sort of fashion, and she wanted to, but she knew she had to be careful about it.

Before starting her next sentence, she tries to pull the tears back into her eyes and push her feelings down so she can talk about her mom. “And now, I finally know that my mom has someone to comfort and love her correctly up there. Ya know, I’m sure they're just dancin’ away,” she chokes out, “I’ve heard so many stories about them always dancin’ with each other…they finally have their dancing partners back and, with that, I’m glad they have each other.”

Suddenly, she has to take a deep breath so she doesn’t completely break down into a million pieces in front of everyone listening. But as she collects herself and continues, tears begin to fall unchecked down her cheeks. No matter how much she tries, her facade of composure crumbles before the eyes of those before her.

Joey stands beside her, his hand reaches for his spot on her lower back and slightly rubs her body, offering silent support as she pours out her heart, raw and unfiltered. His touch is gentle yet territorial. Joey listens intently, his presence a calming anchor in the storm of emotions that consume Josephine. His touch on her back is a silent reassurance, a reminder that she is not alone in her grief.

As Josephine speaks, the room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of shared sorrow and understanding. Joey's eyes never leave her face, his eyes brimming with empathy and compassion for the pain she is going through.

Time passes unnoticed as Josephine pours out her heart, finding solace in the presence of Joey by her side. The weight of her loss feels a little lighter with each word that leaves her mouth, each shared memory relieved. While Joey comforts her with just a gentle touch, she can feel the stares that go between her and Joey from people knowing who he is in relation to her father, with confused looks on their faces.

But Josephine and Joey couldn’t care less.

“I just wish they were able to dance down here, with me…” She finishes her eulogy with a small sigh and some sniffles. A sense of relief flows through her knowing that she doesn’t have to do this ever again.

And in that moment, Josephine realizes that, despite her anger and disappointment, she still loves her father. She mourns not just the man he had been, but the man he could have been if only he had found the strength to fight his demons.

—

Josephine stands at the graveside, her eyes fixate on the beautiful oak casket slowly being lowered into the ground. The wind whips through the cemetery, sending chills down her spine, but nothing can compare to the heaviness in her heart.

Memories flood her mind once more - Neil teaching her to ride a bike, his warm smile when she succeeded, and his comforting presence during hard times. All the good things. Tears well up in her eyes as she struggles to come to terms with the fact that he’s really gone.

As the last words from the priest are spoken and the final clods of dirt fall onto the casket, Josephine feels a stab-like sensation in her chest. It’s as if a part of her has been buried along with him, never to resurface again.

But while she’s starting to spiral again, a gentle hand rests on her lower back, providing a sense of comfort amidst the overwhelming grief. It’s Joey, who has been by her side since this happened.

He doesn’t say a word, but his presence speaks volumes. Just like in the church, he stands there, offering silent support as Josephine lets out all her emotions - the anger, the sadness, the despair.

She can finally breathe.

Finally as the dirt settles and everyone finally walks away, all while resting a hand on her other shoulder or a small hug when they pass by, she lays her white rose on his grave.

I love you, daddy. Come visit me whenever you can… Please.

Turning to walk away, she stops in her tracks and just stares at Joey. His sunken eyes and confident posture are both slouched, his once sharp features softened by grief. The wind plays with his hair, tousling it into a disarray that mirrors the chaos of emotions within him and her.

In this moment of shared silence, Josephine realizes the depth of Joey's loss. Neil wasn't just her father; he was also Joey's best friend. They had shared countless memories, laughter, and secrets over the years. And now, with Neil gone, a part of Joey's world has shattered too.

Swallowing her own tears, she steps to Joey and wraps her arms around him. She feels the weight of his sadness, the ache of his broken heart. In the embrace, they find themselves in each other's embrace, drawing strength from their shared sorrow.

Josephine's arms tighten around his torso as if she never wants to let go. Her right cheek rests on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing. Their bodies move in perfect sync, as if they’re two halves of a whole. Joey's lips gently press into her hair, which is pulled back into a low bun.

Though the tightness of the bun is beginning to give her a massive migraine, she pays it no mind. Perhaps it’s from all the crying she has done today. She guesses she’ll never know.

“Thank you…” Joey chokes into her hair, but he lets some of his tears fall. For once, Josephine gets to see the vulnerable side of him, it’s sad it’s taken this for it to happen. She wishes it would’ve happened because of almost anything else, but the universe works in mysterious ways.

Standing under the starry night sky, the cool breeze gently caresses their faces, creating a serene atmosphere in contrast to the sorrow in her heart. The flickering candle lights from the memorial service cast shadows on their faces, and Josephine can barely hold back the tears that threaten to spill over.

She can’t believe that her father is really gone, that he would no longer be there to offer his wisdom and guidance, or even have the chance to sober up. Joey, sensing her despair, holds her closer, offering silent support through his presence.

As they stand there, swaying gently to an unheard melody, Josephine feels a sense of calm wash over her. Joey's familiar scent warms her, bringing a small measure of comfort in the midst of her grief. After what seems like an eternity, she musters the strength to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you ready to go home?" she asks, her words tinge with melancholy. Joey, ever the pillar of strength, leans back slightly to look into her watery eyes and places a tender kiss on her forehead, his beard lightly scratching her skin.

"Sure, doll," he replies softly, his voice full of warmth and understanding. Together, they walk through the silent cemetery, their footsteps muffled by the soft grass beneath their feet.

As they get closer to her car, Josephine feels a sense of gratitude for having Joey by her side for now. His unwavering support and love are the beacons of light that have helped her through the storm of emotions that kill to overwhelm her.

With Joey's hand in hers, Josephine finds the strength to face the challenges that she has to endure. Whatever and whenever those may be.

The drive home is quiet like the night, calm and peaceful for once, the only sound is the hum of the car's engine and the occasional sniffle from Josephine. While she sits quietly in the passenger seat, her hand holds onto Joey's on the center console, tightly. The weight of the day's events bore down on her, but also she’s calm - it’s a weird mix of feelings.

As she glances over at Joey, his eyes focused on the road ahead, she feels a surge of gratitude towards him. His quiet presence was, and still is, needed, a reminder that she is not alone in her grief. She would’ve been a pile of mush before it even started, if it weren’t for Joey.

The funeral was a blur of tears and condolences, with a mix of fake hugs all around, because if anyone truly cared they would have helped her and not just left her and him to fend for themselves. However, Josephine knows why they couldn’t. They had already tried so many times and nothing changed. Josephine was the only one who ultimately enabled him.

Finally reaching her house, she’s hesitant to walk in. It’s been three weeks since she’s been here, Joey’s been the one to grab things for her from here.

At the first step through the door, she will know that this is real and not a sick joke of some kind. Standing on the porch with Joey, her hand trembles as she reaches for the doorknob.

Her heart is heavy with grief, knowing that the moment she steps inside, she’s going to break down. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves when Joey grabs her hand and turns her to face him, “Do you want me to come with you? Do you wanna stay at my house for the night?”

Swallowing her pride, she accepts staying at his house tonight but she says she needs to grab some things and she needs to do it alone. “I understand…I’ll be right here when you’re ready,” Joey whispers to her as he lays a small kiss on her chapped lips, a small smile shows on her face. She mouths thank you, as she turns to face her front door again.

This time, she actually twists the knob and opens the door, when she enters her empty house, the silence swallows her like a heavy blanket. The familiar sight of the living room, usually littered with discarded beer cans, or liquor bottles, and cigarette butts, now looks strangely pristine in its emptiness.

No Family Guy blasting through the house, no sounds of him crying, no sounds of him breaking things while he bumps on the walls to use the bathroom, no drunken arguing or love bombing - just silence.

It’s terrifying.

Josephine makes her way through the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the hollow space. She passes her dad’s bedroom, the door slightly ajar, but she doesn’t look, she’s not ready for that.

A lump forms in her throat as she realizes the absence of the usual signs of life that she has grown accustomed to, no matter how chaotic they were. She quickens her pace to her room at the end of hall, so she can leave…she thought she could be here, but she can’t.

Finally reaching her own room, everything was exactly as she left it: her books scattered on the desk, clothes strewn on the floor, and posters peeling off the walls. But now, in the silence, it all seems like a stage set devoid of actors, waiting for the next scene to begin.

With a heavy heart, Josephine sinks onto her bed, her mind racing with questions of what if?

—

Josephine lays in Joey's bed, the soft cotton sheets swallowing her exhausted body. It’s the first time she has found herself in his room, but it’s far from what she’d imagined. The usual scenarios that would play out in her mind included; playful laughter, whispering secrets, stolen kisses.

But now they are replaced with silence and the weight of grief that hangs heavy in the air, like smoke.

She shifts slightly, Joey's thin sheet slightly rubbing against her bare legs as she shifts. Then Joey's large arms wrap around her torso, pulling her closer to his warm body, her back and ass fit right into his form behind her. It’s a comforting gesture, one that she welcomes in the midst of her turmoil. His presence is a soothing balm to her wounded soul.

As she lies there and stares at the candlelight that dances around on his nightstand, the events of the day play out in her mind like a movie reel. The funeral, the tears, the laughter, and the condolences – they all blur together in a haze of sadness and disbelief. She can’t shake the feeling of loss that consumes her, the emptiness that seems to fill every corner of her being.

And yet, here she is, in Joey's bed. It’s an unexpected turn of events, one that she had never anticipated to happen this way. But as Joey holds her close in his sleep, his steady heartbeat echoing in her ear, and his slow breathing slightly blowing small strands of her hair, she realizes that perhaps this is exactly where she needs to be. In the arms of someone who cares for her, who understands her pain without needing words.

She closes her eyes, seeking comfort in the warmth of Joey's embrace. She attempts to quiet the nagging memories of her dad's funeral replaying in her mind like a haunting film. The image of the casket being lowered into the earth and gradually concealed beneath the dirt, refuses to fade. Causing her eyes to shoot wide open and scan as much of his room as she can.

Her gaze darts around the room, taking in every detail as her mind races to make sense of her surroundings. A slight gasp escapes her lips, which causes Joey to stir slightly in his sleep, and his arms tighten protectively around her. She can feel his warmth, his steady breath against her neck, grounding her in the reality of the moment.

The room is filled with shadows dancing on the walls, the flickering candlelight casting an otherworldly glow over everything it touches. Josephine can see the familiar shapes of Joey's possessions - his books stacked neatly on the shelf, his guitar resting against the wall, the old photograph of his family on the bedside table.

She wants to hear him play at some point, but she doesn’t know how to ask him.

She wants to share her thoughts with Joey, to seek comfort in his presence. His slumbering form behind her, she hesitates to disturb him, because she knows this day was hard for him too. Her hand finds his, their fingers intertwining as if seeking reassurance in each other's touch. She traces the lines of his palm, each crease and ridge telling a story of its own. It’s in these moments of silence that she finds a semblance of peace.

The room wraps them in a cocoon of stillness, broken only by the soft hum of the night outside. Josephine wills herself to let go of the pain that grips her heart, to release the tight knot of grief that threatens to consume her. She whispers into the dim room, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Joey," she begins, unsure of what she wants to say but needing to speak nonetheless. "I miss him so much. I wish he was still here with us, laughing and telling his terrible jokes."

Her words hang in the air, a fragile thread connecting her to the past she so desperately hangs onto. “I’d even take him if he was drunk…” That’s how she knows she really misses him, because she misses every part of him.

She feels Joey stir beside her, his presence a silent reassurance that she’s not alone in her sorrow. In this quiet moment, as the night presses on outside the window and the world slumbers on, Josephine finds a measure of peace in the stillness of the night. She closes her eyes once more, her body giving up on staying awake any longer, in the comfort of Joey's embrace.

#original story #oc #my ocs #original female character #original writing #original character #ofc x oc dads bestfriend #ofc x dads bestfriend #dark funeral #alcoholic dad #alcohlism #sad #heartbreak #like father like daughter #nothing is as it appears #dark themes #angst #some fluff #tags left out to avoid spoilers!!

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