ser / #seraphimsentinel

ddba!dex and a shameless 20 something year old waitress...

he's a regular at the diner now, he swears it's not to see you, it's just close to his apartment! but you definitely do keep him company while he eats.

you always love seeing him walking through the door in the morning, taking his usual seat at the counter and not so subtly eyeing you down while you talk to other customers.

"hi, dex" you make a show of batting your eyelashes at him and smiling sweetly, just to see the corner of his lips twitch, an amused smile playing at his face. "hi sweetheart" he responds in that low, gravely and teasing tone of voice that makes your cunt clench around nothing. just him talking to you like that makes you go dumb.

"the usual?" you ask, your mind somewhere else as your eyes glance down to his big, thick fingers, the ones you're sure would stretch you out. he's fiddling with a coin between his digits, "yeah, baby, the usuals good." the fucking pet names, they make your mind go hazy, and he notices.

you're pressing your thighs together while making his milkshake, you can literally feel his stare piercing through you. he's just tilting his head, very evidently amused by how needy you are from just talking to him. it makes his cock twitch in his pants.

if he does stay for a while, you ask him all about his day, his work life, whatever can get him to keep his attention on you. he just gives vague answers, finds your pressing funny.

and by the time he leaves, he's giving your ass a pat and leaning down to whisper to you, "don't be afraid to tell me how you really feel, okay?" you're caught of guard. nodding dumbly as he slips you his number on a napkin.

a/n: first time writing for pope!!! eek i haven't written in months... hope this isn't too bad! (dividers by @/uzmacchiato !! <3)

bf!pope cody who... stays within a 6 foot radius of his girl at all times. you go to the grocery store? he's right behind you with every step. at a party? his hands haven't left your body. even when you get up in the middle of the night for water. you fill up the cup and turn to grab a straw when youre met by the great wall of pope.

"jesus, andrew. scared the shit out of me."

"why'd you get out of bed?" when it's glaringly obvious that you were getting water.

"i was thirsty. any other questions, Sherlock?"

he mumbles under his breath before taking your hand and holding it while you drink your water.

bf!pope cody who... is overly clingy. this kinda goes with the first one, but i mean!!!!!! he has no concept of personal space god love him :( he is always always always touching you, and when he can't, hes blowing up your phone.

⟶Where are you?

im in the kitchen

⟶Come back to bed.

pope im in my kitchen... like at my house

⟶Oh.

⟶Come back

and of course you do go over because who are you to deprive him of what he needs?!

bf!pope cody who... knows exactly how to get what he wants. he knows all he has to do is use his pathetic little puppy eyes to get anything. it worked on smurf growing up, so he learned to naturally employ it in his regular life as well. this leads to many days spent bickering about stupid stuff in the grocery store, at which point he gets quiet and he looks at you with those shiny eyes and... how did that end up in the cart? oh pathetic puppy eyed man you are so special to me

pope has been out all day on a job for smurf, and he’s completely exhausted. he’s spent the whole day fighting and getting his hands dirty, and right now all he really wants is to be with his girl.

when he walks into your room, he finds you curled up in bed, already asleep. you look so soft, so pretty for him, he can’t help but crawl in next to you and kiss you awake. his lips trail along your neck and up to your ear, so he can whisper, “hey, baby, i’m home.”

it takes a few moments, but eventually you stir, your bleary eyes squinting at him as they focus. “oh… hi andy…” you tug him closer and close your eyes, already falling back asleep. “missed you…”

pope smiles, “yeah, missed you too, sweetheart.” he pulls the blankets away slowly to find you in just his t-shirt and a pair of thin panties. they’re already wet. “oh, you did miss me, didn’t you?”

you hide your face in his neck, “mhm…” while his hand trails up to your inner thighs. you let out a gasp and start to shut them but he murmurs, “no, baby, it’s okay. just wanna play a bit, yeah?” this just makes you more shy, but he pushes gently, “i’ll go slow, promise. just wanna feel you…”

you don’t stop him, so he plays with you a bit, just like he said he would. just gently rubbing over your panties, getting you ready for him.

its nothing, meaningless sex that isn't meant to be anything but fun while he's in town. he plugs his number into your phone so he can keep you on retainer while he's around and doesn't think about you after he's gone.

except you keep texting him, keep him updated on your life. you use the privilege of his phone number to send him pictures of the stay cats around your flat ("simon" your favorite, named before you knew him, you called it fate and he didnt correct you).

you tell him you miss him, and ask when he'll be back.

it’s similar to the feeling of watching his large, bulky frame bend over to pick something up off the couch and seeing a sliver of his toned back when his shirt rides up. a deep twist, almost like hunger… an empty tummy when you should be satiated.

he was in your guts about 2 hours ago but still… the slow grind, pulsing palms mashing against each other and spreading heat and want and the heady scent of yearning.

when he lifts back up he turns to look at you in surprise, “ya alright?” his flighty eyes drag across you & then the room awkwardly– he can practically feel the heat and pulsing of your belly from where he stands.

vascular arms, tight t-shirt, broad shoulders cutting through the air as he straightens up. your hand presses to your stomach as your half lidded eyes take him in.

press, press, press. but nothing mirrors the sleeve of you cradling his cock closer & closer into your stomach.

depraved, you shake your head and whisper “wanna feel you again.” “n-now?” “now, please.” “b-i… what if you’re still sore?” “don’t care andrew, please now.”

it doesn’t take long for him to decide, especially not when he sees your smaller palm pressing into your stomach in thrusts; mirroring the rhythm he had you in this morning.

hi my love!! this was kinda hard for me to picture cause i feel like pope lowkey would never agree to that... BUT i had a funny little scenario pop up in my head about craig cody wanting to fuck you so bad and you tell him you will but only if he brings pope😭😭

and craig would try sooo hard to convince his brother because youre sooo hot. he would casually slip the idea into conversation and pope would grimace at him, "what the fuck did you just say?" and then leave the room very disgusted with his sibling. so the next time craig tried, he pulled up a picture of you while pleading, "cmon man- look at her!! you're telling me you don't wanna bend her over??" and although pope's cock twitched at the mental image of you bent over a surface of his choosing, the fact that his brother would be there would definitely kill his arousal. he’d push the phone away with a rough, "fuck off craig. 'm not doing it."

but then you'd show up to one of smurf's parties a day later... you'd be all sweet and tipsy in a teeny tiny bikini. and you'd be all over pope, soft hands at his chest and pretty voice in his ear, faking an offended pout, "craig said you don't want me andy. 's that true?" and you're splayed across his lap, smelling so good and skin looking so smooth that pope physically cant say anything besides, "no, i-i do. it's just- i can't uh... do that, with craig there."

so you'd press some hot kisses to his neck that had him grow hard beneath you instantly. you’re giggling at pope’s whimper when you suck the sensitive spot below his ear. god, you're voice is so candied and so mesmerizing to him, "how bout just you and i practice together first, hmm? that sound good andy?"

my eye is twitching i'm foaming at the mouth rn i need cowboy!jack like there's no tomorrow.

–

we all know jack is naturally a flirt, a bit old fashioned. he sees a pretty girl, he's gonna man up and introduce himself. where most men might run off with their tails tucked between their legs trying to come up to a girl out with her friends, jack isn't that man. he's introducing himself to everyone with his hat crossed on his chest until he gets to you, kissing the top of your hand as he places his hat back on his head and shooting you wink. he's asking to buy your next drink, leading you back to the bar as he pulls a stool out for you to sit while he stands over you. a game of eye fucking and flirty touches as he nurses a beer.

with a saccharin grin and your lip tucked between your teeth, slipping his hat off his head, watching his reaction as you place it atop your own head. jack's eyes flickering across your face as he adjusts it on your head before leaning down, a hand resting on your hip lightly. his mouth against your ear as his voice rings low and rough, "you know what they say, doll." he's squeezing your hip playfully, his breath hot against your neck and your thighs are clenching together.

That's it! Is that too much to ask for? Something delicious in the dead of night to hopefully cure the absolutely dreadful sleep you've been having. You've always slept better on a full stomach, and a grilled cheese is easy to make.

Or, so you thought.

Turns out, cooking anything on less than three hours of sleep the past two days will result in flames so tall they touch the ceiling. Which led to the hottest fireman you've ever seen carrying you down a ladder after you realized the fire blocked your tiny entrance hallway.

"You alright, love?" The man sits you down gently. Somewhere between your panic and his attempt to soothe he introduced himself as kyle.

"...you're the most attractive man I've ever met." You say honestly, sleep deprivation having zapped your filter.

── ⊹ ࣪ ˖ sleepyhead frank

the apartment is quiet except for the steady sound of rain tapping against the windows. it’s one of those rare mornings where everything feels slow enough to breathe, but frank is still dead asleep, stretched across the bed with one arm thrown over your side.

you’ve barely seen him all week. too many nights spent waiting up for the sound of his boots outside the door, too many mornings where his side of the bed had already gone cold before you woke up. now he’s finally here, and somehow he’s sleeping through the whole day.

you brush your fingers through the short hair at the back of his neck.

nothing.

“frank,” you mumble, nudging his shoulder. “c’mon.”

all you get is a low, annoyed grunt as he buries his face deeper into the pillow. you smile to yourself. “you’re ignoring me.”

“m’not,” he mutters, voice rough with sleep. “you’re just… talkin’ too much.”

“I missed you.”

he doesn’t answer right away. instead he blindly reaches for you, finds your wrist, and tugs until you lose your balance and land against his chest with a laugh. one heavy arm wraps around your waist immediately, holding you there like you’re not going anywhere.

“frank,” you complain, even though you’re smiling. “I was trying to wake you up.”

“bad idea.”

“it’s noon.”

“don’t care.”

his eyes stay stubbornly shut, brows pinched together in that little frown he somehow wears even while sleeping. you poke his cheek.

“you’re grumpy.”

"shut up.”

the words would sound harsh from anyone else, but they’re followed by the softest kiss pressed against the top of your head without him ever opening his eyes. you melt against him.

after another quiet minute, you whisper, “I really missed you.”

this time he sighs, the kind that seems to leave every ounce of tension behind.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs. “missed you too.”

his hand lazily rubs circles against your back before settling there, warm and steady. within minutes his breathing evens out again, already drifting back to sleep. you stay exactly where you are, tangled up in his arms, deciding the day can wait too. for once, you have him home, and that’s enough.

jack abbot x alt!reader

summary: just a bunch of random head-cannons of jack with a younger fem alt reader that get progressively smuttier

warnings: 18+, smut

a/n: im drinking wine and wanted to self indulge have fun this is for all my alt leaning / whimsy goth aligning girlies. her and you used interchangeably sorry #decolonisingenglish

- Alt reader who always wears some variation of black, whether they be baggy pants or flowy maxi skirts, and Jack being the absolute dork he is gets irrationally excited when he happens to wear a black shirt when they go out together. “Look sweetheart, we’re matching,” he teases as you roll your eyes.

- Alt reader who has tattoos littered across her body, lines that Jack loves to trace. Jack has one of his own from back in the day, a phoenix on his back, that you love to caress and rub your fingers over as you straddle his lower back and massage him. You ask him what year he got it in and all he says is, “Don’t remember kid, but it they’re older than you, that’s for sure.”

18+ MDNI | cw: age gap, jack calls reader "little girl"

jack abbot often felt like his glory days had long passed him. he felt like he'd wasted his younger years on meaningless hookups and substance-fuelled parties when he should've been trying to settle down like some of his bandmates had. he'd resigned himself to living with the regret lodged under his skin.

and then jack met you.

you're younger than him — way younger than him. you remind him of the kind of girl he used to wink at on stage during a show, then pluck out of the crowd afterwards and lead to the back of his tour bus.

"you were probably in diapers when i was touring, angel," jack sighs, smoke funneling through his nose with the exhale. he stares at the ceiling, the grey in his hair catching the soft light of the bedside lamp.

"you know, i used to have groupies," he remarks casually, "they’d crawl all over me after shows, begging for a piece of me, and i'd just fuckin' let 'em. back when my voice wasn’t wrecked, and my fingers could play three hours straight without cramping up." jack chuckles dryly as he flicks ash into an old soda can on the nightstand.

"now all I get is some middle-aged guy stopping me on the sidewalk and yelling dude! you were our fuckin' hero! while his wife rolls her eyes behind him."

god knows how a sweet young woman like you ended up here: laid out in his bed wearing just his worn old band tee. he feels his cock start to chub at the sight, and he smiles to himself. at least that's one thing he hasn't yet lost to age.

You'd began to see it recently.

The shadow behind your own, the tall figure with the swaying tail and twitching ears, you can swear that it pouts when you turn your focus away from it, head drooping and tail curling out of sight. Mostly it follows you, tracks your movements and seems to be talking to itself as the shadows hands move about during the day, but always it is with you, if it's not next to you then you can spot the shadow cast against a nearby wall or floor, but always with you.

Hidden under your sheets, on your phone, touch on and screen bright as be to chase away the shadows you try to find out what it is. Only finding your way to dead ends and random internet myths that hardly matched what you had been seeing.

All while, above the covers curled around the foot of your bed he sits, giggling to himself as he watches you under the sheets like this.

It's cute how you're trying to learn about him like this, not that it will lead anywhere, his name as a deity had long been forgotten and this existence between existence isn't a common occurrence for beings such as him. So he'll let you look up all those silly ghost stories, myths, and tails of things that aren't quite him but are almost right enough to matter, he's getting closer to being visible even if only to you, that part is all that matters in the end, his beloved needs to be able to see more than just his shadow looming.

Moving up the bed he curls against your pillows and waits till you emerge from under the covers, coiling around you and making himself known with a faint feeling of pressure.

Hips unashamedly rocking against your hip as he settles into place, certainly not working himself up to seeing your pretty face covered with his spend again during the night, no, never, that could wait for a little bit. He wanted to see you shiver and twitch as he clung to you, to feel how your body shook at the feeling of his presence, you'd know him better soon, his pretty spouse to be.

The whimper that leaves you makes it hard to resist shifting his robes to the side and freeing his cock early, maybe you'd feel how he yearned and make another sweet noise...

Oh how he cannot wait for his power to return.

meanwhile his s/o is simply eating the takeout he just got them in their jammies, fresh out the shower while watching their fav show sitting in the most heinous shrimp position.

they’re wondering wtf is he talking about while he’s only a few seconds away from ripping his clothes off and taking them on the couch.

its even worse if he just came back from a mission.

he has to stop himself from letting out a loud moan when he spots his s/o cooking up something in the kitchen, wearing what they call their ‘ugly clothes’ cause it’s laundry day, it’s obvious that they haven’t had a chance to shower and they’re even wearing their thick lens glasses because they ran out of their contacts just the other day.

they have to bat him off with whatever kitchen utensils they’re using because they know he’ll just take them right then and there on the counter or even snatch them up to their bedroom.

and they cannot let that happen again after the last time. their kitchen almost burnt down because they forgot to turn off the stove.

You’ve always been…not mean, necessarily, just a little snappy. People are fucking stupid and you shouldn’t have to deal with that the wonderful, gorgeous, princess you are.

It’s one of the things Frank loves about you, the permanent pout on your lips. He loves being the one that deals with your attitude and smooths the crease between your eyebrows. He loves being the one you go to to hear yes because you don’t know how to be told no.

Frank can always tell when you’re in a bit of an extra mood. Like this morning when he finds you eating a bagel over the sink and glaring out the window after he gets home from his usual summer morning jog. He can tell by the way your jaw snaps something has got those gears turning over in your head and smoke pouring from your ears. He can’t help but love you all the more when you’re like this — ready to cry over spilt milk and sweat the small stuff.

“Hey, pretty baby,” Franks hand slides down the side of your face to cup the back of your neck. His pretty, brown eyes are as soft as his voice while he watches you stare off into the distance and refuse to acknowledge him.

“Good mornin’.” He smiles down at the side of your face how he always looks at you, so fondly that sometimes you don’t even understand it. And it’s pretty easy for you to understand given that you’re a beautiful, intelligent, sweet angel princess. His big hand around your neck pulls you towards him oh so gently so he can place a kiss on your forehead.

“What’s got my girl so worked up all early, huh?” He murmurs against your head after you let out a big, dramatic sigh. “Was’the matter, baby? Hm?”

God, Frank babies you so good. He’s all big and strong and manly, but always soft and gentle and sweet for you. If it were any other person, you’d side-eye them with a nasty scowl and send them a passive aggressive comment before storming off. But it’s not; it’s Frankie, and his big paws are framing your face with feathering touches and calling you his baby, his angel, his sweet, bratty, gorgeous, girl, and like every other time, it coaxes the real answer from you.

“Todd was in my dream,” You mumble, staring at his chest. Todd is your most annoying co-worker, which says a lot because all of them are annoying. Pretty much everyone is annoying, really, besides Frank. “He was getting on my nerves.”

Frank smiles down at you with a hum, pulling you to his chest so you don’t see the grin that spreads across his face while he tries not to laugh. He made that mistake once, and you’d hit his chest with a cry of ‘Frannkkuuhh!’ and stomped off. He won’t make the same mistake again, not when he gets the chance to hold you and love on you like this instead.

“Poor girl ain’t even gone to work n’ all these people already botherin’ her,” Frank rubs over your biceps, your shoulders, and up and down your back. “S’alright, wasn’t nothin’ real, minds just playin’ tricks on you.”

Frank holds you close, rocking back and forth. He looks down at you, at your pouting frown and sad eyes, and immediately clocks that you’ve pushed past your bad dream and conjured up something else to be upset about.

“What?” He inches his face back so you can stare up at him more comfortably. You glance at his shining, tender brown eyes, before dropping your head back down on his chest with a dejected sigh. “What, baby?”

“J’st wish I could stay here with you,” Your admission is quiet, and pressed against his warm, cotton-covered chest. “N’ never deal with all these stupid fucking people ever again.”

“Yeah, I know,” He replied, a little upset that he can’t solve that issue for you. He may not have to have a job, but that’s because he’s a wanted fugitive/murderer. You are neither of those things, and unfortunately, have to make a living like a normal person. “Almost through the week. Just got two more days, right? Doin’ real good.”

* Frank ‘cooks a big piece of red meat and makes you eat it in front of him when you start your period’ Castle

* Frank ‘gets personally offended when you sit on an empty seat next to him and not on his lap’ Castle

* Frank ‘checks every lock in the house before getting into bed’ Castle

* Frank ‘learns how to do your hair routine so he can do it for you when your arms get tired’ Castle

* Frank ‘who looks at you like you have 5 heads when you try and take the trash out instead of him’ Castle