already on my knees (in god's country) • jud duplenticy
pairing: father jud duplenticy x f!housekeeper!reader
synopsis: after monsignor wicks’ mess, the church gets popular real fast. you assumed this housekeeping job would be easy enough, but nobody thought to tell you about the hot priest on site.
content: wake up dead man spoilers, pre-one year later, yearning at first sight, lust in the house of god, no smut in this chapter but definitely will be in the next, college grad reader, vague mention of ill mother
notes: sorry i disappeared for 6 months (it will happen again) pls take this in offering! yes the title is an ethel cain reference u know i had to do it!! this is basically my new sleep scenario so will probably write part 2 as long as i can stay awake long enough to continue the plot (smuttttttt >:)) thank u guys for reading xoxo
word count: 1k
read part two of 《 god’s country 》 here!
masterlist
as always, this is an 18+ blog, minors dni!
when father jud put out the notice of help wanted, he’d expected someone older–skin all weathered lines and calloused with work and time.
but then you show up one sunday afternoon, a little after morning service has ended and he’s confused.
you’re not a regular. in fact, he doesn’t think he’s seen you in town before (not that he gets out much, but he thinks he’d have noticed).
it’s a balmy day in spring and the front doors to the church are often left wide open. maybe that’s how you got in with him none the wiser. jud doesn’t know how long you’ve been standing there, pale dress fluttering in the breeze.
with the sunlight leaking in from all angles, for a moment, jud thinks he’s seen an angel.
he stands by the front of the pews, hand clenched tight around the wooden edge as he watches you take in the insides of the church. your eyes linger on the stained glass windows, dust suspended in the midday light.
his mouth is dry, following the curve of your cheek down to the bow of your lips. he thinks he could spend all day like this, watching you watch this place with awe and a little something else in your gaze.
but then it’s locking onto him, and he plummets back into his own body. father jud remembers where he is, who he is—
heat rushes to the tips of his ears as your hand raises tentatively, taking a few steps down the aisle, closer to him.
“hello,” you clear your throat, “are you father jud?”
yes, please come in. it comes out gentle, inviting in a way he always tries so hard to be. but the voice in his head is desperate, begging — please, come in.
“i hope i’m not interrupting anything,” you say sheepishly, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear.
jud finds his head shaking before he can even really process. “no- not at all. you’d be surprised how quiet it can get here on a sunday.”
your soft laugh floats over the aisle and hits him in the face. he has to focus on keeping the smile off his face — from the way it sounds, from knowing he’s the one that got it out of you. he wants to hear it again.
“i’m here about the housekeeping position? we spoke on the phone last week,” you explain, hands twisting the strap of your bag as you scan his face for any sign of recognition. you hope he remembers. it’d be really awkward if he doesn’t remember employing you.
jud’s mouth falls open, not because he’s forgotten, but because he’s in trouble. this, he knows in the depths of his heart.
no matter how hard he reminds himself he’s a man of the cloth, in the house of the lord, it was over from the moment you stepped over the threshold of our lady of perpetual fortitude.
he can see it now, but he’s always been a fighter.
so he ignores the tugging in his chest and tells himself to be good.
your name rolling off his tongue feels natural. (dangerous, the voice says.)
he recalls being in the office, twirling the phone cord around his finger as he half-heartedly goes through the interview questions. he should’ve been paying more attention, but things around the church had gotten busy since blanc’s departure, and with martha gone, jud had found himself constantly at the mercy of her filing system.
“i remember!” jud blurts, pitched only a tad too loud and high. it echoes a little, and he clears his throat, willing himself to calm the hell down.
you’d told him over the crackly phone line that you’d returned to town after graduation because your mother needed help around the house and you couldn’t bear to think of her alone.
that had given him pause, but with everything going on, he’d just been happy to have an applicant at all.
“how’s– is your mother well?”
you blink at the suddenness of the question, and jud can’t help but feel like pivoting to the topic of your possibly ailing mother may not have been the best idea.
but then you’re smiling, huffing gently as you reply, “she is. she’s the one who told me about this job, actually. she spoke very highly of you.”
the corners of his eyes crinkle when he waves a bashful hand at that, turning to the side to hide his pleasantly proud grin, and you’re close enough now to spot the ink peeking over his collar.
it feels a little wrong to thank god for it, but you’re glad father jud doesn’t see you lag for just a second too long. you can’t quite make the design out from here. what does the rest of it look like? how many more does he–
“it’s really nice to meet you,” he says your name again, and it’s enough to jolt you back to attention, nervous eyes flickering to his to see if you’ve been caught.
you only find warmth, endless pools of it and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stave off the shame. you need this job, and it won’t do you any good in this town if you lose it for ogling a fucking priest.
he gathers the papers he’d left discarded on the bench. tilts his head as he notices you watching his every move with an attentiveness only found at one’s first day on the job.
“would you like a tour? this place is bigger than it looks, and i’ll admit even i still get lost sometimes.”
and the way he says it, the soft waver in his voice, how his hand comes up to rub his neck in embarrassment, all to make you more comfortable in what’s essentially his house–
it makes you beam, nodding eagerly as your feet pull you to join him at the front. both your fates, sealed.
warnings ! - p in v (unprotected), marking, whiny Luffy, hand job, and straight into the good stuff ain’t no plot here😭
“I NEED YOU.” HIS TONE WAS SO soft, so desperate, and you could tell by the boner poking at you thigh that he meant it. You never though you’re flirting would actually get you in his pants, Luffy seemed way to innocent to even comprehend the sexual innuendo that slipped your lips. But here you were, strangling his hips and staring down at his lustful gaze, you weren’t one to leave someone hanging. Especially with such a desperate request.
A smirk painted itself on your lips, a sly hand lifting to run up his arms. Luffy felt that burning sensation again, the sting that you left behind when you touched him, and he loved it. Your soft hands cupped his cheeks, lowering you’re face to catch his lips in a kiss. Inexperienced lips did their best to keep up with yours, leaning his head to one side. The cocky smile on your lips only widened, feeling a puff of pride fill your chest at thought of taking care of the beautiful boy under you.
You imagined his flushed cheeks when you called him handsome in the cave, the same cheeks tinted with a red hue while sweat trickled down his forehead after you’re done with him. You gently rolled your hips again his, teasing his hardened dick, he rewarded you with a low moan, opening his light just enough for your tongue to slip in. He hardly fought against you, letting you take charge with your intruding muscle.
His wandering hands squeezed the flesh of your hips, your waist, then it lowered down to your ass. You felt the boy smile against your lips, repeatedly kneading the skin with his surprisingly large hands. You chuckle, pulling away to lower your kisses to his jaw and neck, he instinctively tilted his head to give you full access. You marked him with multiple purple bruises scattered from the curve of his neck to his exposed chest. With each suck and gentle lick he whimpered, squirming as your hand fell down to the tent in his shorts.
“You need me, baby?” You whispered into his ear, making the boy nod vigorously, “What do you need me to do?”
Luffy swallowed thickly, opening his eyes, you took notice of his blown out pupils, wide with desire. Gazing into yours only made him feel more dizzy, absolutely hypnotized by you low eyelids. “I..I need you to touch me.” His words were so pathetic that you could only take pity on him.
Gently, you palmed his hard cock through the denim fabric, “Here?” You asked softly once you got a loud reaction.
“Y..Yes, right there.” He whimpered out, throwing his head back as you continued your slow, teasing movements. He nearly groaned when you pulled away but the sound of his fly zipping down silenced him. You’re hand reached under the waistband of his boxers, taking him into your hand and continuing you’re slow strokes.
You mouth went back to sucking hickies onto his chest, somewhere he could hide them if he wanted to but a few would peak out. You swiped you thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-cum that leaked out. You giggled at his reaction, his head digging into the pillow, mouth opened with a string of quiet moans spilling out. “You like that.” You teased, watching as the boy chocked back his moans and hummed a response.
But Luffy wanted more. His forced his hand to catch you’re wrist, halting you’re movements as you looked at him confused. “I need you.” He muttered, eyes so precious and begging, it wasn’t hard to realize what exactly it was that he wanted.
“What’s the magic word?”
“Please, baby, please, please.” He whined as you smirked, within an instant you undressed your bottom half, climbing back onto his lap. Staring up at him with such a fierce look that he could only close his eyes and await the pleasure, far to intimidated to say any more. You’re hands against his skin were so gentle and soothing, Luffy almost forgot how erotic the scene was when you clasped both his hands into yours. But the sensation of your wet cunt swallowing his hard cock immediately snapped out his tranced as he let out a obnoxiously loud whine.
It was one that made you giggle, unbothered by his volume, let the crew listen in for all you care, you were having the time of life. That says a lot when you’ve lived through literal centuries. He was just the perfect size that stretched you out and filled you up. You let out a gasp as you fill sit down, feeling his tip kiss your cervix before you slowly rose back up, taking you’re time, drawing out those sweet noises from Luffy.
But, you could only tease so long before your own desires began to scream at you, so you harshly slammed down your hips. Making the pleasure shoot straight through you, a found a steady pace, one that you could still speed up or slow depending on how you wanted. You tugged Luffy up from his laying position, removing one of you’re hands from his and cupping his face.
“Luffy.” You moaned out quietly, making his eyes open, his eyes so different from when you first met him. “Keep looking at me, handsome.” You smiled, pecking his lips, he gave you a bum in response. It was so sudden when he gripped your waist and thrusted his hips up, the movement making you lurch forward and hide your face in his neck. He repeated his actions, snapping his hips against yours in such a pleasurable way that your orgasm was building up quick.
“Y..you like that?” He whispered into you ear, lightly kissing you’re shoulder, much more tenderly than his brutal assault to you’re cunt.
“Yes, Luffy—yes!” You moaned, a high pitched ring echoing into the roam as you ran you’re fingers through his unruly curls. Occasionally tugging on them when he hit a sweet spot deep in you. You began to bounce down, joining your hips, the coil in you’re stomach threatening to unravel.
Luffy himself couldn’t help but let out low groans, contrasting against his usual chirpy voice. You loved that it was you who made him sound this way, “I’m—fuck.” His load spurted in you, painting you’re walls white, and without letting up for a second. He still thrusted weakly in you until you followed soon after, coming undone in his arms.
You lifted your head from the crook of his neck, looking at his glistening face from the sweat dripping down the side of his cheek. You kissed his lips, soft and gently working yourself off of him. Never did you think that Luffy would be so quiet, but you as you laid on the bed next to him, still cuddling close to him he remained silent. He didn’t even move to put his close back on, or reach for his dear strawhat that had fallen to the floor. You turned over to him and found his eyes already looking, the familiar smile building up on his lips.
You giggled, “Not bad for Pirate, Luffy.” You whispered, “Takes nerves to ask for some help.”
He shrugged, his goofy smile never faltering, “So I did good for my first time?” Your eyes widened, lifting to rest on your elbows.
“That was you’re first time?” He nodded in response, making you chuckle in disbelief, “That can’t be.”
“What can I say, I’m different kind of Pirate.” You giggled at his words resting back against the puffy sheets, he adjusted himself to hold you close, and damn—the boy had a tight grip. “Can we do this more often?”
You chuckled, “As you wish, handsome.” You pecked his lips, digging you head into his chest.
YOU FIDDLED WITH THE RINGS on your fingers, swinging on leg over the edge of the crates that you sat atop of. For the past ten minutes you’ve been listening in on the hush conversation that the crew, minus Luffy and you, had inside the kitchen. You glanced up at Luffy who was happily guiding the ship to the next village. He meant you’re gaze as you sent him a wink, making the boy smile bashfully.
“You, as his first mate, have to ask him about it.” Nami agitated voice snapped, to any person the conversation would be unintelligible, but you weren’t any person. “Especially if this is going to be happening often.”
“Why is that always the shitty excuse for me to talk to to him.” Zoro argued back, his usual monotonous voice raised and defensive. “Since you have such an issue with it, why don’t you talk to him about!”
“No, I’m not gonna—Usopp.”
“Nope, nope, don’t look at me.”
“Sanji?” Nami sighed as the blonde clicked his tongue.
“I’m not one to get in the way of another man’s pleasure, Nami.” His voice grew farther from the rest of the group, the sound of clanking pans and the clicking of the stove as it ignited following after. “Let the boy have his fun, she’s a beautiful genie that’ll probably be gone by the time his final wish is made. Isn’t that how it works?”
You rolled your eyes at his words, and despite it being true, it was still something you didn’t want to think about it much. Something about Luffy seemed so different, much more attracting than the past masters you’ve had. All the others begged for power, money, and greed took all three wishes within a day or two. Not only did Luffy have double the amount, but he’d only used one in the past week. You’ve had promises made to you, but none ever lived up to them, but Luffy had potential.
“Do I have to do everything myself?” The orange-haired girl groaned.
“You’re the navigator, find a solution.” Zoro pushed the door to the kitchen open, trudging out with heavy steps, his eyes meeting yours for a second.
You gave him a teasing smirk, waving your fingers in his direction as he rolled his eyes, a quiet scoff escaping his lips. Nami followed soon after, her steps much slower and tense, she glanced up at Luffy who was still in his same spot.
“Uh, captain, Luffy.” Nami called out, climbing up the steps and onto the deck to reach the boy. “Hey, can I talk to about..something?”
“Of course, you can talk to be about anything!” He chirped back, making the girl blush at the thought that the same boy in front of her was the cause of the noise problem last night.
“So, me and crew heard some…sounds last night of which woke us up from our sleep.” Nami began slowly, making the boy nod, his kind smile never breaking. “And we’re wondering if you may have heard the noise or…may have caused it?”
The boy shook his head, “Nope, didn’t hear a thing last night.” Nami sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead.
“Did Y/n hear the noise or know where it came from?” The navigator looked over at the girl.
“Hey, y/n!” Luffy called out, catching you’re attention before Nami could protest. “Did you hear any noises last night?”
“Nope, I was in my lamp aaall night.” You replied casually, shooting the girl a wink before going back to staring up at the clouds.
“No noise.” Luffy shrugged, “Hey, do you mind steering for a while.” The flushed girl nodded, taking over as the curly-haired boy walked towards you.
“Mind if I make my second wish?” You perked up at the sound of this, sitting up and hopping off the crates.
“Go ahead, master.” You nodded as the boy walked closer to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“I wish for a soundproof room.” You a large smirk covered your features, a chuckle escaping you’re lips.
“As you wish.”
AHHH I KNOW THIS TOOK A LIL BIT BUT IM HAPPY HOW IT CAME OUT!!
could you do a request of Buggy (opla) falling for Luffy’s older sister? (Adopted or blood relation, doesn’t matter) like he takes her hostage but she doesn’t seem to mind. She know she can escape at any time, but keep annoying buggy to a point where… he doesn’t see her as a hostage anymore, more like treasure? And she starts to maybe feel something for the clown?
You Started It (Buggy The Clown x Reader)
a/n: how did i know the first request will be about the clown lmao. i took some liberties when writing this but i hope you still like it <3
Warnings: Buggy Being Kind Of An Asshole, Captivity, Some Suggestive Themes
Summary: Poking the bear isn't the wisest things you could be doing in your particular situation.
Edit: y'all are impossible, yes, there will be part two jesus christ
Edit 2: AND PART 3 FUCK IT WE BALL
You've memorized every nook and cranny of your shoes. The time you've spent in containment has really opened your eyes, when it comes to how little you actually knew about the clothes you were wearing. For example, your right shoe was slightly bigger, molded by your foot. You must be putting more weight onto your right leg, when standing. The hem of your shorts is made with a very close cross stitch, making them slightly sturdier and thicker. Right where the material folds, just above your knee, you've managed to pick out a small hole, the strings of abused material hung sadly and tickled your skin.
There wasn't really much to do, while being kept in a cage, in the backstage of a circus which belonged to the infamous Buggy the Clown. Well, except studying the stains on your shoes and waiting for the Captain to visit you, which he did quite frequently.
"Entertainment purposes" is the reason he declared, when you've asked him why on earth is he keeping you locked up in a hanging cage. But you weren't so easily fooled. You knew from the start, that the role he has envisioned for you to play, was that of a Hostage and Bait. So, inevitably, when your younger brother and his merry band of misfits come to save you, he'd be able to even out the score. Which was a shitty plan, in your opinion.
They've kicked his ass before, they can do it once again.
So, that's why you're here, feet dangling above the floor, as you hum to yourself. Anything to pass the time. That is, until you hear the door to the backstage open, and a familiar tone of voice calls out.
"Hostage!"
Really, how did he even expect you to stay in the dark about his plan, while calling you like this? The man was clearly insane.
Buggy the Clown stands before you, makeup disheveled as always, with his Captain's hat abandoned in favor of a striped bandana. He's excited, which is evident, by the way he can't seem to stop moving, jumping from one leg to the other, hands fidgeting at his sides.
"How are you feeling, my dear Hostage?" he asks with fake concern, and just as your mouth opens to answer, he interrupts "Ah, never mind that, I don't care."
You don't even try to hide the annoyed expression on your face.
"You can sing" he states matter-of-factly, pointing a finger right at you.
"Barely."
"Can you dance though?"
"Barely as well."
He hums in thought, pacing the floor in front of your cage. Finally, he stops, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. His eyes rake over your body, and it brings a sudden wave of discomfort to your bones.
"You'll be performing in our next act."
Again, his tone leaves no space for an argument. Still, you were never an agreeable person, smiles were more of your brother's thing. So, you straighten out as much as the cage allows you and cross your arms in front of your chest.
"Do whatever you like, my brother will get me out of here before you can say Welcome to my big show".
"Welcome to my big show" he says immediately, then, raises his finger, as if he's waiting for the entire crew of Strawhats to fall from the sky.
They don't, obviously, and he gives you a pointed look, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.
"Besides" he turns around and opens one of the chests laid out on the table "Aren't you a bit old to dote on your younger brother so much?"
The question genuinely offends you, and as he pulls out another bandana, this one red, covered entirely with big white polka dots, your eyes glimmer with venom.
"Aren't you a bit old to play dress up?"
He turns in a blink of an eye, and with terror mixed with disgust you watch his hands detach from his body, slamming into the cage. The force of impact sends it flying right into the nearby wall, the back of your head smacks against the metal bars. The swinging of the cage coupled with the stars erupting before your eyelids from the impact make you feel dizzy.
Then, Buggy takes a step towards the cage, connecting his hands with the rest of his body, and your prison stops swinging in an instant.
"I should kill you for that" he says lowly, his blue eyes bearing into your face.
"You started it" you choke out an accusation, trying very hard not to vomit.
He stays completely quiet, just watching you for a long while, his hands slowly loose tension. Then, as if his rage has entirely dissolved, he smiles, teeth completely exposed, as his cheeks crease. God, you'd do such a better job at his make-up, given the chance.
"You're funny, Hostage" he shakes his head, and suddenly, for some unknown reason, it downs upon you, just how close to you, he's standing.
"Sing for me some more" he says.
And then, his hands push back with sufficient force to send your cage flying again. You groan at the movement, another wave of nausea almost making you loose your breakfast. When you finally have the perfect, biting comeback, he's already gone, the door slamming after him. You're alone again.
A sigh escapes your lips, as you press your forehead to the cold metal of the cage. You've already memorized all the details of your own clothes, and the room was too dark to see anything more. So, you start observing the cage. The way the light shifts up and down on the bars, the way the brown paint seems to peel away under your thighs. Then, you look up, towards the place where all the bars have been stuck together.
And then your eyebrows furrow. Because just above the ceiling of the cage, you can see something poking out. Something roughly the size of a fist and colored a pale, fleshy color. You raise yourself slightly in your seat, to get a better look, and immediately regret doing so.
It's an ear. His ear. Detached and placed right on top of the cage. That's how he knows about your singing, the bastard.
An idea brews in your brain, mischief spilling out of your growing smirk. You pull yourself up, until you can reach the top of the cage. Your arm is just slender enough to slip past the bars, and your fingers brush against the cold flesh of the ear. Before Buggy, wherever he is, can react, you snatch the ear from the top of the cage, keeping a tight grip, as it starts to jump in your hand.
Then, you take a deep breath, place the ear close to your lips… And give the most blood-curling, shrill scream you could muster.
Immediately, you hear a string of curses coming your way, and a second later Buggy bursts into the room, a murderous expression on his face. You open your hand, and the ear nearly bursts out of your fingers, flying back to it's owner like some sort of deformed beetle. The sight, for some reason, is so incredibly funny, you can't help but choke out a little giggle. Which soon becomes a quite big giggle, which in turn morphs into a full blown laughter.
You can't see the Captain through the tears of laughter forming in your eyes, so when he knocks on the metal bars of your cage, you nearly choke from surprise. He's looking at you strangely. Not quite as angry as before, but there is something else lurking behind his eyes. As if he's enveloped deeply in his thoughts, but at the same time completely present and focused on you. Your laughter dies down in an instantly, and you reach up to wipe your tears, clearing your throat awkwardly.
"I've captured myself a comedian, huh?" the man leans closer to the bars of the cage, placing his forehead against them and looking at you from below "You trying to take my place as the funniest person in the circus? Hm, Hostage?"
You risk a smirk, leaning down towards him. He watches your movements with a curious expression, eyes darting all over your face.
"Yeah" you whisper "So, you better watch your back."
At that, he smiles one of his brilliantly wide smiles. This one however, seems the most honest out of every one you've seen up to this point. You try not to linger too much at the way his eyes seem to shine in the dimly lit room. Or how the stubble on his face makes his features sharper. Or even on the way his arms flex as he leans against the cage. And definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, you're not focusing on the fact, that he's standing nestled right between your dangling legs.
So, before your brain conjures up any unwanted ideas, you clear your throat again and straighten up. Buggy notices the shift in your posture, but doesn't move, instead it seems as if a lightbulb has literally appeared beside his head. Desperate to change the subject, which hasn't been even brought up yet, you wave your hand in the general direction of his ear.
"Your ability is pretty useful" you try to sound as neutral, as humanly possible.
"Oh?" he tilts his head back and gives you a suspicious look.
"Yeah, that eavesdropping thing was really cool… And slightly disgusting" your nose scrunches "But mostly cool."
He hums low in his throat, his hands slowly letting go of your cage. Still, he remains standing between your legs, your knee brushing against his prominent hip bones.
"Are there" you swallow "Any limits to this ability?"
Now, his eyebrows jump straight under his bandana, and you definitely do not like the slow smirk filling his features.
"I mean, like, can you detach your nose? Or um… I don't know, your fingernails?"
Finally he steps back, stretching his arms to the side, as if he's giving you a show, and in a way, he does. There are muscles, hidden under those circus clothes. His exposed forearms are nicely shaped, with thick veins running the length of them. You really don't mean to ogle the man, but fuck, he is handsome. In an "insane-sadistic-clown-who-is-also-a-pirate-for-some-reason" way.
"I can detach every single part of my body with no effort" he says, his smile growing.
Before you could really think about your actions, your gaze falls downward, right to his belt keeping his trousers up. Mortified, that your brain would even go there, you tear your eyes up, and with a horrified expression, look upon a face full of excitement.
Then, Buggy raises his hands to his heart, feigning a scandalized expression, which would've been funny, if you weren't currently blushing in the lovely shade of a ripe beetroot.
"I'm sorry… that's not… I didn't" your words come out a jumbled mess, and Buggy wheezes out a laugh.
"Oh would you look at that" he puts his hands behind his back, as he slowly starts to stalk towards your confinement "You know, with how sheltered your little brother is, I didn't expect you to be such a dirty pervert."
You choke on air, arms flailing inside the cage, as you genuinely are at a loss for words, You can feel your face grow impossibly hot, the heat spreading all the way to the tops of your ears. The Clown still advances, until his face is pushed right between the bars of the cage, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eye. You don't know what to do with yourself, as the man continues to laugh at your outrage.
Finally, his right hand flies from behind his back and stops right above his head. Then, as if making a show specially for you out of his unusual abilities, he lets his pointer finger remove itself from the hand. Involuntarily, you make a face, and try to push yourself as far into the cage, as humanly possible. Which, given the size of your prison, does practically nothing. The finger aims straight at your nose and presses it with slightly more force, than a friendly "boop" would.
"You started it" he throws your own words back at you, and watches your dumbfounded expression with a smile and a giggle.
Finally, he steps back, all his body parts in place, and you can breathe again at last. Then, with a flourish, he bows down before the cage, before giving you a slightly unbalanced twirl. At that, you can't help but smile, almost fondly. He's not so bad, when he isn't actively trying to murder you and your friends.
"Anyways, get ready, your grand performance is in a week" he concludes, and you sigh deeply.
So he hasn't let this one go.
No matter. A week from now, you'll be out of this place. The thought fills you with joy, and strangely, with some sort of melancholy, which you have to jot down as nausea, just to protect your own mental health.
"Hostage" the man says, as a goodbye, bowing once again, this time with fewer theatrics, and begins to walk back towards the door.
"Captain" you respond in kind, inclining your head slightly.
He stops in his tracks, back turned to you, before slowly, twisting his body, to look you in the face. He wants to say something, his mouth opens and closes, and anticipation floods your stomach. But then, his lips pull back into one more smile, more reserved, more private. Now, in this rare moment of tranquility, he looks truly handsome, and your heart jumps to your throat at the realization. He gives you one last look, shakes his head at the floor, and exits with a soft click of the door.
You're, once again, left alone with your mismatched shoes and the hole in your shorts. This time, however, your head is filled with tender thoughts, one that could keep you company, until another visit befalls you.
joel becomes curious about the woman running the medicine shop in Jackson, and the strange rumors swirling around her.
warnings | 18+ angst, fluff, spooky ooky stuff
a/n | this was born out of me getting high and rewatching practical magic. i intend to make this a lil universe in and of itself bc i love the idea :)
.............................
Joel stops outside the storefront down the main drag of Jackson. Old license plates have been cut up to create a hodge-podged sign hanging over the door. Apothecary. When he enters, wind chimes tinkling above the door, he thinks that it looks more like a greenhouse than a medicine shop, potted plants clearly tended to with care all over the place.
“Hello?” Though the sign says the store is open, he doesn’t see anyone around, sidling up to the checkout counter and eyeing the collection of rocks lined up next to the old, rusted-out cash register. He doesn’t have long to muse to himself about how strange the shop is when something brushes quick against his legs all of a sudden, making him let out a hard curse as he whips around in time to see a sleek black cat padding toward the back of the store.
“Sorry about her, Stevie thinks she owns the place.” He’s startled again by a voice, nearly jumping out of his boots when he turns around to find a woman has appeared behind the counter. She’s certainly a sight, old bracelets trailing up both her wrists, and dangling earrings that look to be made out of scraps of stained glass. She’s pretty, if not a little wild looking. He has to clear his throat before speaking.
“Um, I’m sorry. The sign said you’re open.” She smiles, tilting her head slightly as she looks at him.
“Oh, we are! I was just working in the back. What can I help you with?”
“Maria sent me? She said you’d be able to help– my kid’s got a pretty bad case of poison ivy and, um, yeah. I’m Joel– by the way.” Her smile broadens, warm and bright as she steps out from behind the counter, Joel stuttering into motion as she nods for him to follow her.
“I know who you are, Joel. Everyone can’t stop talking about the Jackson newcomers– welcome– by the way.” He’s a little distracted from listening to her words by the backroom she leads him into, lined with shelves stacked with glass jars full of all sorts of dried plants and thick books. There’s a wide gas range in the back of the room, large bubbling pots on most of the hobs. She glances at him over her shoulder as she flits by to stir the simmering pots.
“This used to be a bakery, way before, if you can believe it. I thought Maria was crazy when she offered me the space. But we’ve made it work.” His brow furrows.
“We?” Just then, that damn cat brushes past his legs again, making him stumble over his feet. The cat leaps up onto one of the shelves, and she chuckles as she strokes its head, smiling at Joel before turning back to the stove.
Seemingly satisfied with the state of whatever she’s got brewing, she claps her hands together before turning back around to Joel.
“Now then, poison ivy is no fun, huh? Probably get someone in here every couple of days asking for my help with it in the summer. Lucky for you, I’ve got just the stuff to calm it down.” When she passes by him, he gets a deep whiff of something heady, like that incense stuff Sarah liked to burn. Her hands flicker over glass jars, muttering to herself as she grabs a few items. He can’t help the way his eyes graze down her bare legs in her cut-off overalls, smiling when he sees she’s wearing two different colored sneakers. Arms full, she lays out her haul on what looks like once was a butcher's block, her eyes darting up to his as she coaxes him further into the room with a crook of her finger.
“This is witch hazel– it’ll be your kid’s first line of defense to help some of the redness and swelling calm down.” She passes him a small glass bottle full of murky liquid before holding up a little tin.
“Salve made with beeswax from the hives in town and calendula– she can slather this on to help with the itching.” She’s speaking so fast he doesn’t have time to question how she knows that his kid is a she, already holding up something else, a cloth sachet.
“Oatmeal, Sarah can run a bath and soak with this in it– should soothe the itching and calm down the rash in general. I’ll give you a couple of those, you can use them a few times, but fresh is always better.” He didn’t hear the last bit, a ringing starting in his ears at the mention of that name.
“You said Sarah– w-where’d you hear that name?” Her face falls.
“Oh, I, um–” He swallows hard, cutting her off.
“I had a daughter named Sarah– she— passed— when everything– well, when everything fell apart. How did you– how did you know that name?” She sighs, offering him a nervous smile.
“It was just a slip, a lucky guess– or unlucky, I suppose. I’m really sorry, Joel. I didn’t mean to–”
“No, no. It’s, um, it’s fine. Just caught me by surprise is all. Ellie– that’s the name of my kid that’s probably itching herself into a frenzy right now.” Her smile widens just slightly at that, her shoulders coming unwound. He reckons that if it had been anyone else saying Sarah’s name, he would’ve knocked their lights out. But all he feels hearing her say it is an almost soothing sadness.
“Well, in that case, I hope Ellie starts feeling better soon. Oh! I have one more thing for you!” Before he can protest, his hands already full of the little bits she gave him, she slips over to one of the shelves to grab another small tin before coming back over to him.
“Spearmint and lavender– these mountains are crawling with it– mixed up in a balm. Good for back pain.” His jaw slackens.
“How did you–”
“Lucky guess. Lemme know if it helps.” The way she grins at him almost distracts him, almost, but he huffs, shaking his head.
“I can’t take all this for free– it’s– it’s too much.” She laughs.
“Well who said anything about free? I was hoping you’d trade me some of your time for all that.” He squints at her, not sure what she means, and she chuckles at his questioning look.
“From what I hear, you’re pretty good on patrol. Would you be willing to come with me up into the mountains a time or two? It’s peak harvesting time for all these goodies and I could use an extra pair of eyes.” She waves her arm, motioning toward the shelves stocked with plants.
“That’s all? Doesn’t sound like a–” She cuts him off with another wave of her arm, her bracelets clinking wildly with the motion.
“I know I drive a hard deal, but that’s the best I can do.” By the crinkling around her eyes, he can tell that there will be no arguing with her, even though it’s obviously not a fair trade with the way she’s loaded him up with stuff. He sighs, finally nodding.
“Um, alright then. You just tell me when and I’m your man– I mean– not your– I’m–” while he’s mortified by the way he just put his foot in his mouth, she seems perfectly amused by it, letting out a light laugh that cuts off his floundering.
“Sounds like we have a deal. I’d shake your hand if both of them weren’t full– oh! I haven’t even told you my name, have I?” He shakes his head and she sighs at herself, telling him her name. He rolls it over in his mind a few times as she apologizes for her lack of manners, walking with him back out to the front of the shop.
“If Ellie’s still itching in a week, come back and tell me. I might have something a little stronger that can help.” He nods as she opens the door for him, but before he can step out, the cat is twining between his boots, purring like an engine. He’s never liked cats much.
“Hmm, Stevie likes you. That’s rare, y’know. Very high compliment from little miss.” She grins at him, all warmth and sweetness. Maybe he can make an exception for one cat. She scoops up the cat, nuzzling her chin over the top of the purring feline’s head. He leans against the doorframe, suddenly not too worried about getting home to Ellie who’s probably scratching her skin off right now.
“Is that Stevie, um, as in Stevie Nicks?” That earns him her brightest smile yet. It didn’t take a genius to make that guess, seeing as she’s dressed like she just stepped out of a hippie commune, though Joel supposes that Jackson could fit that description.
“Mmhmm, you a Fleetwood Mac fan?” Truthfully, he isn’t. Not now, and not before. But for some reason, he’s inclined to nod.
“Aren’t you a little young to be listening to them?” She scoffs. He’s honestly not sure how old she is, definitely younger than him, but that’s as far as he can guess.
“They were my mom’s favorite band, and then they were mine– are mine. I managed to snatch an old vinyl of theirs a while ago but I wore it out I played it so much.” She lets out a light laugh, Stevie squirming in her arms. Joel makes a mental note to keep his eyes peeled for records on his patrol shifts, only getting snapped out of his thoughts when she lets out a sigh.
“I should let you get back to Ellie, she’s probably itching up a storm by now. Let me know how that stuff works for her.” He nods, taking one more look at the cat who he swears has been staring at him, before stepping out.
“I will– thank you– really, I appreciate it. And you’ll let me know when you need my help?” She offers him a crooked smile as she nods.
“I sure will. It was nice to meet you, Joel. I’ll see you soon.”
It must have been his eyes playing tricks on him. At least that’s what he tells himself the whole walk home. Cats can’t wink, right?
…
With summer in full swing, the weekly market in town has moved from the community center outside to the main drag of Jackson, makeshift booths heavy with abundant produce, fresh breads, and other wares.
Ellie had dragged Joel out with her, poison ivy all but cleared now, and promptly abandoned him to run off with her new friends. He finds himself leaning up against one of the storefronts, quietly watching the comings and goings, always surprised by just how many folks there are in this town. His interest is piqued, however, when he sees a familiar black cat slinking through the crowd. He cranes his neck, watching as the cat stops between a pair of mismatched sneakers. His eyes trail up, seeing her in those same overalls, dangly earrings glinting in the mid-day sun as she looks over a table of produce.
“You’re gonna catch flies looking like that, brother.” Tommy’s voice startles him, his focus reluctantly pulling away from her to his brother who has sidled up next to him, a smug grin on his face. Joel clears his throat, trying to hide the fact that his jaw really had been hanging on its hinges. Tommy chuckles.
“Who are you making eyes at anyways?”
“I’m not making eyes at anyone. I was looking for Ellie– I lost track of her in this damn crowd.” Tommy shakes his head, his eyes trailing to where Joel had just been looking. By the way his grin widens, he seems to know exactly who Joel had been looking at.
“Maria told me she sent you to the apothecary the other day. That lady’s something else, huh?” Joel glances back over to her, seeing that she’s started wandering along the booths, cat trailing along behind her.
“What’s her– how– what do you know about her?” Tommy sighs, glancing back at Joel.
“Well, the old Jackson rumor mill will tell you one thing. But all she’s been is a service to the community, really. Was the biggest help to Maria when she was pregnant– helped her through the birth and everything.” Joel squints at his brother.
“And what does the “old Jackson rumor mill” have to say about her?” Tommy lets out another sigh, scratching at the scruff along his jaw.
“It’s silly, honestly. Just a story made up by people with small minds.”
“So what is it? Just tell me, Tommy.”
“Some folks around town– they’ve got it in their heads that– well, that she’s a witch.” Joel feels his face go slack at that. Tommy just shakes his head.
“I told you it’s stupid. People just– they think she’s a bit strange, I guess. Though if you ask me, that rumor has more to do with all the wives of Jackson not liking the way their men look at her.” Joel glances away at his brother, finding her in the crowd. But this time, he notices all the people around her, mostly the women, and the nasty way they seem to size her up as she walks by. Joel huffs.
“That’s gotta be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. A couple of ladies get jealous so they start calling her a witch? Seriously?” Tommy shrugs.
“Hey, stranger things have happened. It’s not so hard to believe, not since people started growing mushrooms out of their skulls.” Tommy’s got him there, but Joel still has to shake his head at what his brother has told him.
“I thought you said it’s just a silly rumor.” His brother’s silence tells him more than words ever could, and Joel has to laugh.
“You’re kidding. You actually think that we’ve got a– a witch in town?” Tommy grumbles at that.
“Look, Joel, I’m not gonna lie to you. There’s been some freaky shit with her– healing people, knowing things that she shouldn’t know, hell, even that damn cat of hers is–”
“What do you mean– knowing things she shouldn’t know?” Tommy huffs at Joel’s interruption.
“She calls them lucky guesses. All I’ll say is it sure seems like that woman has a lot of luck.” Joel’s breath catches listening to Tommy’s explanation, his mind immediately going back to that day he met her, how she had known Sarah’s name.
“Listen, the bottom line is, she’s done nothing but good for Jackson with that shop of hers. Whatever she is, she’s a good one. But, brother, I wouldn’t go calling after her.” Joel’s brow furrows, head tilting at his brother.
“I wasn’t– even if I was– why shouldn’t I?” Tommy smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Because while the women of Jackson call her a witch, the men of Jackson just call her a heartbreaker.”
stepdad!rick where you're the daughter of a jessie-esque (I feel like she's too young to have a grown ass daughter but ig its possible) woman he meets and starts dating in Alexandria,,,, and you're a sweet little angel so so sheltered never seen a walker in real life never had to go hungry or lift a single finger,,, and it drives him crazy sometimes how clueless you are about everything and how you look at him and his people like they're wild animals, feral dogs you let in off the street,, but he also knows you're not being mean about it you just.... are curious and confused and a little attracted by how much they scare you :')
thinking of the first time rick fucks you and how he growls into your neck and bites you, leaving teeth marks all over your thighs, and you're in a constant state of fear but also so fucking turned on....
