Sunny Day Jack One-Shots; 🔞

Trash (Joseph Haberdae x Reader)

Tags: Roommates, Takes place in the 80s, Joseph is kind of sucky.

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"Come on, baby, please?"

You hear Joseph's voice in the living room as you throw on some clothes. You decide to listen in, curious. Who's on the chopping block this time?

"Just... please send me some cash, I'll take you out and we can have a sweet time tonight." he said, speaking honey sweet words into the receiver. "I'll make it worth your while. What do you say?"

You push your door open carefully so as not to make a sound, stepping out into the hallway.

"No- no, baby! Baby..." he pleaded profusely before his expression soured. "Fucking bitch!" he yelled, slamming the phone onto the hook. At the same time you shut the door and hurried out from the hallway.

"You called?"

Joseph pinched the bridge of his nose, "I said fucking bitch..."

"Oh, thought you said (Name)."

Joseph chuckles and his initial bad mood seems to be forgotten once he sees you're carrying a wallet. "I was wondering where that was. Couldn't find it in your jacket." He nods to the aforementioned, hanging on the coat rack. When you moved in it had just been there. 'Came with the room,' your landlord said, but you thought better of that. You just assumed someone left it and brushed it off with a shrug; after all, who doesn't like free stuff?

You raised a brow, "You went through my jacket?"

He smiles, "Of course I did." Of course he did.

"Besides, you told me to help myself to whatever I wanted. Your food is mine, mine is yours, etcetera..."

"I was referring to the kitchen and television, Joseph."

You don't even know why you were explaining that. He obviously knew, otherwise he wouldn't be giving you that "yes I'm a bastard but don't you wanna pinch my cheeks?" face.

"I only found sixty-two cents anyway." he muttered.

"Did you keep it?"

"No, It wasn't even enough for a pack of cigarettes anyway."

"The economy..." you said.

Joseph shrugged and flopped down on the couch, his massive weight pushing it back a bit. You wince when it hits the wall.

"Easy on the couch, you know shit here is cheap.." you said.

"So you should have no problem buying another one." Joseph replied. He barely helped pay the rent enough as is, so why would he pitch in for the furniture? You supposed you couldn't hold it against him though, his ex-girl over the phone was probably going to be half of this month's rent.

He sees you throwing on your jacket and raises up slightly, "Where ya going?"

"To get a drink," you said. The man's eyes light up at that and he instantly hops off the couch.

"Oh, hang on! Lemme get my jacket too!"

"I'm only getting a pack of wine coolers." you said, but Joseph was already coming back in his ratty corduroy.

"I'll take a smidgen of anything with alcohol in it right now, let's just go!" he then began to pull you along with him out the door.

You didn't get wine coolers like you planned. After a lot of hassling from Joseph he convinced you to come to a small bar on the side of the wall of a building. One of the places he frequented most likely, as everyone knew him by name. The bartender regarded him with annoyance and mild amusement as he spouted some schmoozy words about his day and why he'd be late on his payment that day.

"Put it on my tab? Thanks." Joseph said with a smile.

"Can I just have a coke?" you asked.

You heard Joseph scoff beside you, "Really? What happened to wine coolers?"

"The stuff from here is too pricey..."

"I literally come here because the shit here is cheap!" Joseph said.

"If it's so cheap, why don't you pay your tab on time?" The bartender said, pouring you a glass of coke.

"I just never have it when I need it!"

"When you need it, you're spending it on booze." You muttered into your cup.

Abruptly Joseph stood up, waving the two of you off. "Fuck the both of you..."

Sighing, you continue to nurse your drink. Then, deciding to look over the menu's cheaper options, you decide it wouldn't be a big loss to spike your drink a bit. You hold out your cup to the bartender asking him for a shot of low quality liquor in your coke.

Joseph is taking a while to come back from...wherever the hell he is. At first, you assumed he was going to the bathroom. You hoped he didn't ditch you with the tab.

The bartender leaned down on the bar counter, getting eye level with you. "So, you with him?" he asked.

"Yeah but I'm not paying for his tab." you replied simply.

"No, I mean like, is he your man?"

You scrunch your nose and you can't tell if it's because of the question or your drink's sharp taste. You simply shook your head, looking elsewhere.

The bartender hums, "Do you like him?"

"Yeah... he's nice." A quick glance at the bartender told you he wasn't impressed with your answer. He was clearly digging for more. Perhaps some gossip. And while that wasn't your thing exactly, you found yourself confessing to something you didn't think would come out of your mouth.

"I don't date guys like Joseph."

"What are guys like Joseph?"

"..."

Trash. Scheming, whorish, trash. Like many other bumpkins, Joseph came to the city with a dime and a dream. They often leave with nothing, get lucky, or scrape for the scraps the big dogs leave behind. He was a lost puppy that couldn't be kept and wanted something different than what you could give him. When he didn't want anymore he left without warning, and took to the streets.

He was cut from an imbalanced cloth; born with good looks, a big dick, and bad judgment.

But you liked him. It was hard not to, he was attractive. He was funny. And he was confident, even when he was wrong. You were pretty sure that your fascination went beyond just wanting to sleep with him. But you knew who he was and his type. He'd confessed to trying to steal from you for chrissakes.

You couldn't say you knew the exact outcome for Joseph, seeing as he was fairly new to the city. And there were times you wanted to help him get to where he's going. But you didn't want to be that person who fell for a grifter, sweet talked into giving when you had enough until you had nothing. Even if there were a chance he'd love you, convince you to elope with him on a motorbike, heading to wherever the wind took you - what would you have to show for it when the man you'd rely on had no sense and not a penny to his name?

Love?

"Well-"

"Guess who just got forty dollars easy, you bitches?" Joseph triumphantly boasted, slamming a couple of twenties with some change on the counter and sliding it towards the bartender.

"How'd you come up with that so fast?" you asked.

Joseph smirked, "I have my ways."

In the next second, an older flushed man hastily pulled his pants up as he scrambled out of the bathroom; you gave an impressed nod.

"Lemme just...get that," you swiped one of the twenties and pocketed it.

"Wh- hey! That could've covered half my tab!" Joseph protested.

"And now it's covering half your rent," you said, grinning at him.

Joseph sucked his teeth. "And here I was thinking you liked me for my smoldering personality."

"Add on a bank account to that personality, and I might like you more than I do now."