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smok3r7 · 2 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 · 3 months ago

Text

Pinky Promise

OFC x OCDads best-friend

18+, mature

1• Hibiscus

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: Some people get dealt pretty rough cards in life, Josephine’s life is full of them.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Emetophobia warning (will be pretty consistent throughout the whole thing) (not descriptive in this one, just the aftermath/clean up! Will give fair warnings beforehand!)

—

“I’m gonna go ride that!” Josephine slurs to the group of girls she met at the bar, as she eyes the mechanical bull. The group of three, who are all absolutely wasted, laugh and cheer her on to do it, following behind her so they can all watch.

With their cheers echoing in the background, Josephine mounts the mechanical beast, holding on tight with her right hand wrapped around the leather loop. “Let’s go, baby!” She purrs at Frankie, who runs the machine, making sure she’s showing her tits more than she needs to. He shows a flirty smirk and starts it up.

As it starts to spin slowly, leaning her forward and then backwards, her heart races with exhilaration - she’s done this countless times and yet every time she still gets giddy. Suddenly the speed of the bull picks up and whips her around, and she can feel her jean shorts ride up more and more on her ass and her tits bounce in her low cut shirt. The wind whips through her dark brown hair, and a sense of freedom washes over her.

Still holding on strong with one hand in the air and her hips move in rhythm with the machine, Josephine feels a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. The bar full of people blurs around her, and for a moment, nothing else exists but the thrill of the moment. She lets out a contagious laugh and holler, feeling alive and carefree.

The music blares, the lights flash, and for a moment, she feels truly alive. As she finally gets thrown off, she lands on the brown inflatable with a thud. Her friends rush over, helping her up, all of them breathless with laughter and adrenaline.

But instead of feeling defeated, she bursts into uncontrollable laughter, her new found friends cheering and rushing over to help her up. They are all breathless with laughter and adrenaline, sharing a moment of pure joy and camaraderie. As they walk away from the bull, Josephine knows she’ll be sore tomorrow, but still smiles.

“Girl, you set a new record!” The small blonde, whose name Josephine can’t remember, exclaims. Josephine playfully tells her to shut up and turns back towards the bull-board, sure enough she watches the guy write, Josephine - 2:03.

Let’s hear it for the new record holder, by three seconds, Josephineeeee!

After Frankie announces, the bar fills with hoots and hollers from every corner. Josephine turns back to the girls and does a playful bow to everyone in the bar, which makes her feel exhilarated. She can't believe she just broke the bar record for the bull ride, Nicky has been the record holder for twenty-seven years and Josephine just broke it by three seconds, absolutely wasted.

With the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, Josephine basks in the glory of her accomplishment, she drunkenly tells the girls the next round is on her.

The cheers of the crowd fade away into the thumping music, creating a euphoric atmosphere. With a smile on her face and a fire in her eyes she skips over to the bar and tells Eric, the bartender, to pour a round of the highest tequila he’s got.

She turns around and leans her elbows on the bar top, scanning the room to the best of her ability. The crowded bar is filled with chatter and laughter as the glasses clink and the music plays in the background. Just then, she sees a guy who looks all too familiar and is staring directly at her, but with the mix of booze and people, she can’t make him out.

“Romano-” he softly announces her last name.

“Thank you, Eric.” She swiftly turns around and grabs the four shot glasses. “Put it on my tab!” She tells him, but before she can leave, Eric stops her.

“Hey, good work up there.”

She gives a toothy smile and tells him thank you, before she carefully weaves through the bar of people. She reaches the tall table where the other girls are and sets the glasses down with a loud thud. They all thank her and tell her she’s the best, and she raises her glass, the amber liquid glistening in the low light, toasting to them for being her support tonight and how she loves them all.

Salude, Josephine toasts with a slam of the glass from the table, then she swallows the shot. Tequila burns down her throat, but she savors the warmth it brings, feeling a sense of liberation wash over her. She needed this night out after the hellish week she’s had because of her father, but there’s time later to worry about that.

“Good ridin’ there doll,” suddenly, an all too familiar voice says behind her, sending shivers down her spine. Before turning around she sees the looks on the blonde's face, she’s starstruck, so that also solidifies who it is.

Turning her body around she sees Joey Reed, her neighbor and her dad’s best friend, who she’s had the hots for, standing a few feet away from her with a mischievous twinkle in his brown orbs. His dark hair is in the beginning stage of growing back from a buzz cut, the one she loves so much, and there’s a five-o’clock shadow on the lower half of his face.

She loves when Joey looks like this, not shaggy like he does when it’s all grown out and not too mean when he freshly cuts it all down. This is just perfect.

Despite her racing heart and butterflies in her stomach, she musters a confident smile and purrs, "Thanks, Joey. I didn't know you were watching." She takes a breath as she does a quick glance of his body; a fitting black long sleeve and baggy blue jeans, with his brown work boots that have old and new oil stains splattered on them.

His grin widens at her reaction to seeing him, and he takes a step closer, the air between them crackling with unspoken tension. Their eyes lock in a silent conversation, a dance of desire and anticipation. In that fleeting moment, she realizes that maybe, just maybe, her secret crush on him isn’t so secret after all.

“I’m always watchin’,” he admits as he leans down to her right ear, “which is why I gotta take you home, now.” His voice is different from when he walked up to her, more demanding and not as flirty. Joey's words echo in her mind, making her feel annoyed and angry. She knows he means well, but his sudden shift in demeanor caught her off guard, but she’s used to it after so many years of the same thing.

She can’t deny the protective instinct in his voice, but she resents the implication that she needs his guidance. Josephine has always been fiercely independent, especially these past handful years and Joey's attempt to control her actions only fuels her rebellious spirit.

Ignoring the knot of emotions in her chest, Josephine squares her shoulders and meets Joey's gaze head-on. "I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself," she says firmly, “Have a good night, doll.” She throws the enduring nickname back at him, clearly making a point.

Joey blinks in surprise, clearly not expecting her defiance. He knew Josephine was gonna be a bit of a challenge, but not this bad. She stands before him, hand on her hip, her seafoam green-blue eyes narrow in determination. Joey can’t help but admire her spirit, even as frustration brews within him.

She’s not going to make things easy for him, that much was clear to him. Which is exactly what she wants out of this situation, so she playfully blows a kiss to him and turns around to her girlfriends for the night.

“Who’s that?” The tall dark haired girl asks Josephine, clearly wondering if she can get with him or not.

Josephine chuckles to herself. “My neighbor and dads buddy, he’s just tryin’ to keep me outta trouble,” she confesses, “but sometimes I just can’t-“ Before she can finish her sentence, she feels a hand on her wrist that spins her around and she’s suddenly thrown over Joey's shoulder.

“Yo- what the fuck, Joey?!” She curses him out as she tries to kick and punch any part of his muscular body, but she ultimately fails. “Put me down right now- I’m not ready to go home- Joey-“

“Just stop,” he barks to her, which stops her sporadic movements, “Night ladies, I’m sure you’ll be seein’ Josephine here again.” His tone switches to be playful and nice to them while he’s still annoyed with her on his shoulder.

With her still perched on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around her thighs holding her in place, he sighs inwardly, wondering how he always ends up in these situations with her, but at the same time he knows why she acts this way.

Her damn father.

—

Joey hands Josephine a Barbie colored pink bike helmet, the one he specifically got for her, but she drunkenly refuses, fearing it will mess up her hair. She loves his Harley bike, she wishes she could have one of her own but she knows that’s not in her cards right now.

"Doll, it's already messed up and looks like shit," he admits, urging her to listen to him. "Put this on, hop on the back, and shut up. Easy as pie." He adds with a smirk as he sits on the bike with his torso turned to her, the helmet still in his hand.

“You’re an asshole, ‘ya know that?” Josephine scoffs as she snags the pink helmet from his hand and reluctantly puts it on, somehow with that last shot flowing through her, she’s able to loop the buckle underneath her chin.

“Wouldn’t wanna be any other way doll,” he admits with a smile as he watches her stand next to him, her face still plastered with annoyance, “plus, you know you love it.”

The laugh that leaves her chest is genuine when she hears that, “No I don’t, Joey.” Her arms now fold against her chest and her right hip pops out, trying to show as much attitude as she possibly can. But he doesn’t bite the bait she left out, “Sure you don’t. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be standin’ here still, now would you?”

“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes and smiles as she admits defeat in this one, but she knows she’ll get another chance to win. “You gonna let me on or what?”

She watches the way he smirks and stands up for her to sit behind him and she can’t help but feel her heart flutter as she lifts her left leg over the seat so she can sit. Hold on, doll face, he tells her as he starts the bike up, Josephine just smiles at his witty comment and wraps her arms around his toned torso.

The engine’s loud as he revs and takes off out the parking lot, the cool fall night sobering her up, her grip around him tightens. She can feel his body, the slightly abed torso and wider shoulders create this feeling of relief in her. His smell of sweat, car body shop, and cologne make her feel like she’s home, like she doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

As much as she hates to admit it, she loves being on the bike with him, it’s like an escape of all her responsibilities that she has. She just wishes he didn't try to parent her all the time. She is twenty seven, after all, and perfectly capable of making her own decisions, much like she has for the past seven-ish years.

But ultimately, in moments like this, with the wind in her hair and the thrill of the ride with Joey, she lets go of her frustrations and simply enjoys the freedom of the open road with the man she does really care for and respect. She wishes all her nights could be like this one; on the bike with Joey.

The chill of the breeze flying by her bare legs and face out on the open road make her feel alive. But deep down, she knows that this fleeting escape from reality won’t last. Her poor excuse of a father, drowning in his own demons, will inevitably drag her down with him.

His addiction to booze has turned their home into a living hell, filled with broken promises and shattered dreams. Her life used to mean something, she was going to college to become an engineer for god sake, but now all she does is babysit her father while she makes some of the same mistakes.

She’s thankful for Joey, if her dad and him never got close, she doesn’t know where she would be or how she’d be. He’s her rock, as much as he can get on her nerves.

Despite the chaos surrounding her, Josephine holds onto the moments of peace she finds on the back of Joey's bike, hoping that one day they will outweigh the darkness that threatens to consume her world.

As she holds onto Joey tightly, she wishes for a different life, a life without the constant struggle and pain. But for now, all she can do is enjoy the sacred moments of happiness that come her way, hoping that someday things will change for the better.

She lays the side of her face between his shoulder blades the best she can with her helmet and she just watches the way the lights on the buildings blur past. It all looks like a painting of a city where a girl doesn’t belong, or at least isn’t where she should be in her life.

She can tell they’re almost home, the small shops start to look familiar again which causes her stomach to tie into knots - she doesn’t want to go home. She doesn’t want to have to clean up whatever mess her father created.

If she asked, Joey would let her stay with him for the night, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to be more of a burden than she already feels like she is. He goes out of his way to keep up with her and she knows he’d rather be out fucking some girl he met at the bar, which Josephine probably cock-blocked him from tonight with her shenanigans.

So she leaves the question in her head.

As he pulls into the driveway, next to her car, her heart sinks. The house looks quiet, just like she thought. She takes a deep breath, gathers her courage, and steps off the bike.

“You want me to come in and help with Neil?” Joey sincerely asks her, as much as he plays around with her, he really does care about her well-being. He knows she’s almost at her breaking point and he doesn’t want her to get there.

She unloops her helmet and hands it to him, “No,” she sighs, now sober from the ride home, “I got it. I’m just gonna deal with it now and go right to bed. Thank you, Joey.”

“It’s really no problem-“

“I said I got it. See you tomorrow,” she blurts out her voice tinged with frustration, not trying to be rude but she can’t help it. But the thought of cleaning up her dad's vomit for the fourth time this week was wearing her patience thin.

As Joey stares sadly at her from his motorcycle, she can see the genuine concern in his eyes. Despite her stubborn independence, she wishes she could let him in, let him help bear the burden that seems to grow heavier with each passing day. But her pride and resentment stand like barriers between them, leaving Joey on the sidelines, longing to be the support she needs but can’t bring herself to accept.

She spins on her heels and she’s up on her porch when she hears Joey say, night Josephine, and back out her driveway and ride to his, right next door. She smiles softly, the fact he dropped her off at her house instead of his just takes a load off, even something as small as dropping her off at her home, can mean so much to her.

—

As she stands in the threshold of the front door, a sense of dread fills her. The stench of alcohol and vomit hang heavy in the air. The familiar sight of her dad passed out on the couch greets her, but this time, it’s different.

Instead of chaos, there’s an eerie kind of calmness in the air. The TV blares the sound of Family Guy, providing a temporary escape for her father and in all honesty, Josephine too. It’s one of those silly shows she and he would watch before his work accident seven years ago. And they still do, but not as often.

With a heavy sigh, she closes the front door, locking both the deadbolt and handle. Sliding her shoes off, she goes straight to the cleaning closet tucked away in the long hallway on the other side of the house.

The hallway leads to the main floor bathroom, branching off from the elegant dining room and cozy front rooms of her old Victorian house. About four years ago, Josephine actually bought the house from her dad because she knew he wasn’t going to be able to afford it since he wasn’t working.

So instead of being in fear of getting foreclosed on, she decided to bite the bullet and handle it. At the time it hurt her wallet tremendously, but about a year ago she was finally able to have a savings account again and some fun money.

As she reaches for the cleaning supplies, memories flood her mind - memories of laughter, tears, and love shared within these walls, specifically with her dad. It’s really sad knowing he used to be the best father, especially after her mom died after giving birth. He made it his mission to never let Josephine feel the weight of losing both parents, but somewhere along the line, he broke that promise to her.

After grabbing the handful of things she needs, she heads back to the living room and kneels down to clean the mess on the carpet, her heart heavy with a mix of frustration and sadness. As she cleans up, memories of happier times with her dad flicker through her mind, reminding her of the man he used to be and will never be again.

With a deep sigh, Josephine throws the trash into the bucket she grabbed and looks at her dad, peacefully passed out. Much like Joey, his hair is buzzed but his beard is a bit longer than his. But he also looks sick, his cheeks sunken in and his skin color is more yellowish than normal.

A wave of sadness washes over her. He looks so different today than he used to almost a decade ago, his usual vibrant spirit nowhere to be found. She remembers the days when he used to play with her in the garden, his laughter filling the air. But now, he lies there, a mere shadow of the man he once was.

She tucks her dad in with a thin blanket and turns the TV volume down a few, so it’s not blasting through the walls. She doesn’t need to, or want to, watch this right now. All she wants to do is shower and crawl into her bed for the last bit of night she has left, since it is two-thirty in the morning.

As much as she hates this lifestyle, it’s the best case scenario in her home.

It’s been seven years of the same cycle. Coming home or waking up to vomit and/or blood somewhere, knowing that means he wants her to clean it up, mainly because he can’t.

Then when she’s done, grabs him his fifth of vodka from the freezer he bought the night before. Put it in a cooler with ice and set it next to him with a bucket, just in case he has to throw up again. And leave him in the living room where he plays video games, all day. Or sleeps.

All day.

Which is exactly what she does now, after cleaning up his mess, like always.

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