#after she was woken up time and time again from bobby's fucking wet dreams about warren and she can't control her telepathy

[heroesoath]

jean grey, telepath, watching teenage boom boom flirting with teenage rictor ( who is wearing a leather vest and no shirt )

[masonscig]

i like it when you sleep

pairing | mason x sofía

word count | 2.2k

warnings | mention of anxiety, and general murphy nightmares. shameless smut. minors dni

author’s note | had an idea last night and was possessed by some kinda writing gods so here u go! my prompt fill for day five of hot in wayhaven, temperature. this is set sometime in the future where they’re not official and not living together, but they’re a lot more comfortable w each other – idk what book they’re gonna get together so have this vague scene mwah (i have not proofread this so enjoy the mess) also THIS TITLE IS SO LAST MINUTE SJDFJKKDFJ bc of that one song by the 1975 with a full sentence title that is v them 

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She hasn’t had vivid dreams in a long time, and she’s not sure if she likes it that way or not.

Her dreams are just vague sensations with colors and shapes that never fully form, sometimes comforting ones that guide her through the night till she naturally wakes.

Other times, the creeping anxiety’s broken her into a cold sweat till she jumps awake, left with the distant feeling of Murphy’s fangs deep in her throat, her scar throbbing, the skin there hot.

Tonight’s one of those nights where she’s already woken up panting after outrunning something without a face or distinct features.

The room’s stifling already, but the air conditioning is on full blast. The old system isn’t nearly strong enough to cool down the apartment to her liking.

She shifts under the sheets again, trying to find a cool patch on the bed.

Can’t get comfortable. Can’t cool down. Can’t sleep.

She rolls onto her back, tracing lines from bump to bump on the popcorn ceiling. Her eyes are dried and each blink is scratchier than the last. Her lids are heavy, but her brain’s fighting sleep.

Mason’s next to her, arms folded behind his head, face gentle – his snores are soft and followed by sighs. He’s at his most peaceful like this.

Grabbing the cup of ice water from her nightstand, she takes a few refreshing gulps, tracing her fingers through the condensation on the outside of it, before tapping her cold fingertips to her cheeks.

There’s not much she can do besides lie there until her brain stops working overtime. Maybe then she’ll slip into the dreamless sleep she so desperately wants.

“Sofía?” He rasps groggily, his voice crackling.

It still gets her when he uses her name so casually.

“I can’t sleep,” she smiles weakly, making no move to curl up to his side.

“Didn’t you take some of that sleep shit before you laid down?” He asks, peering at her through a squinted eye, the other one squeezed shut.

It’s true she’s relied on sleep aids for a long time – but something about this summer’s made her immune to them. The drops she puts in the glass of water she chugs before bed are completely ineffective.

“I guess they just stopped working.”

Mason frowns, kicking the sheets off his legs. He’s wearing the soft shorts she bought him, the ones she picked because she knew the fabric wouldn’t make him want to claw his skin off.

“Did I wake you up?” She asks, rolling onto her side. She shakes her bangs away, brows furrowed.

He shrugs. “Not your fault. It doesn’t take much to get me up anyway.”

“It was the fucking water… I was drinking too loudly,” she murmurs, propping her head up with one hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I’ve got my fill. I’m rested.” A soft smile tugs at one side of his mouth. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“You’re always welcome here. You know that.”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t say thanks often, and when I do it goes unnoticed.” He stretches, the taut muscle rolling beneath his freckled skin.

Her eyes widen. “Oh wow, you really did. Four leaf clover moment.”

He shifts so that he’s on his side, too, inches away from her. “Nothin’ lucky about me.”

“Now’s the part where you say ‘I’m lucky to know you, Sofía’,” she jokes, squishing his cheeks together with her free hand, his brow quirked while she’s tugging his jaw open and closed.

“That’s a given, sweetheart.”

Closing the gap between them with a grin, she presses a kiss to his parted lips, giggling when he darts his tongue out to lick her.

“You’re so annoying,” she laughs, trying to roll away from him, but he just wraps his arms around her, nuzzling his nose into her neck.

“Don’t I know it.”

They spoon for a little while (she’s not sure how long), the ceiling fan whirring above them, the grasshoppers chirping relentlessly outside of her window.

The sweat’s still coming, even more so now that she’s cuddled up to him.

She tries and fails to reach her phone that’s on the other side of the nightstand, so Mason leans forward to tap her dark screen. The time is in big bold letters at the top of the screen, and despite her reading it four or five times just to be sure, it doesn’t change.

“I’ve gotta be up in a couple hours anyways,” she sighs, fully planning on brewing a pot of coffee and inhaling it throughout the entire day. “Might as well get up and finish the book I was reading.”

“How many hours?” He asks against her neck, kissing the scar there to punctuate his question.

“Three, I think.”

“You can fit a good nap in right after,” he chuckles, still buried in the dark sea of her hair between them.

“After what?” She asks, but it comes out more of a sigh when he suckles and nips her shoulder.

“After I fuck you senseless.” Her stomach flutters, her thighs clenching. He doesn’t beat around the bush, that’s for sure.

“Mason, you don’t have to, really. I’m a big girl – I can handle being tired for a day.”

“You’ve gotta patrol tomorrow, right?” His lips are pressed against her ear now, and his hands are splaying across her stomach.

He’s right. Tina’s cousin is visiting from out of town, so she jumped at the chance to relieve her for the night. Should be a huge regret, honestly, but she can’t bring herself to feel that way.

She sucks in a breath when his fingers inch past the waistband of her shorts, past the elastic of her underwear, past the trimmed hair above her folds, settling there with a slow swirl of his middle finger.

“Yeah, I do,” she’s already panting like a fucking fool – she can’t help what he does to her, though.

No one’s touch has ever made her feel this way.

“Gotta be well rested to protect the town.”

“Mhmm,” she agrees, groaning low when he adds two more fingers and picks up speed, rubbing her off at a furious pace.

She should be embarrassed by how fast he makes her come, but considering orgasms with Bobby were few and far between, she’s greedy with them now.

Once she got a taste of being thoroughly fucked and pleasured, she became shameless in collecting them from Mason.

Sucking her earlobe into his mouth, he nibbles the soft skin with a soft pant of his own. Her hand’s on his cock already, palming him through the thin fabric.

He slows his hand, setting an agonizing pace this time, and she’s rolling her hips to try and climax, but it isn’t working.

“Mason, please –”

“Begging already? We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he breathes into her ear, pulling his hand from her shorts and bringing it to his mouth, sucking his glistening fingers over her shoulder.

She whines, barely able to see his tongue dart in between his fingers from her peripheral. “I wanted to come –”

“Impatient ass. You will soon enough,” he smiles into her shoulder, kissing the freckled skin there this time.

She feels the warmth of his hand between her legs, and she’s expecting them to sink into her, but instead he’s hastily tugging her shorts and underwear to the side, hiking her leg in the air.

The fabric rips, and he’s got the audacity to chuckle like he didn’t just ruin her favorite pajama bottoms.

“Hey, those are my favorite –” she barely finishes her sentence when he teases her with his tip, running it up and down her heat.

His hand’s holding up her leg from the knee when he pushes into her.

The sweat rolls down the small of her back – the heat had become an afterthought the second he touched her cunt.

He circles his free arm around her waist, tugging her back till they’re skin to skin.

His hips begin to roll, stroking in and out rhythmically, and all she can do is lie there slack-jawed.

“Oh fuck, that’s so good.” She’s praising him in his favorite way – complimenting him through the pleasure – and that always excites and motivates him.

“Yeah? You like when I fuck you like this? Tell me,” he huffs shakily while he tries to keep his voice even.

She knows she’s got just as equal of a grip on him as he has on her. He’s begrudgingly admitted in the afterglow that he’s never fucked like this before, with both lust and affection intermingling.

“Yes, yes, please, just like that,” she chants, eyelids fluttering shut when his hips snap harder and harder, his arm tightening around her waist.

She digs her fingernails into his arm to anchor herself while he fucks her relentlessly, and he grunts into her ear when she starts bucking her hips, fucking him back.

Her sleeping shirt’s almost completely damp on the back, and it’s gross. Thankfully, they’re in sync, so he helps her slip it over her head, immediately cupping her tits and toying with her nipples.

He’s still fucking her like their lives depend on it, and he’s pressing hot, wet kisses to her back, shoulders, neck… and tweaking her nipples with an expert hand… 

It’s too much, and she’s overstimulated, clenching around him. “Shit, oh my god –”

With a quick maneuver, he’s tugged her underneath him, flat on her stomach, and rolls his hips into her steadily.

She’s open mouthed moaning into the pillow and he’s hitting all the right spots with the new angle and she’s clenching her legs so she feels tighter –

He’s singing his praises above her, shifting till he’s on his elbows on top of her, not a breath of space between them. The cool surface of his crystal necklace skims her back, raising goosebumps on her arms. 

He’s pressing the weight of his chest onto her back, sinking her further into the pillows.

He’s everywhere.

He’s all she can hear. All she can feel.

Any coherent thought of the long patrol and her uneasy dreams are long gone, and there’s him. Only him.

“You’re so good for me, sweetheart. Get your face out of that pillow. Let me hear you.” She’s already putty in his hands, nodding along to whatever he gravels in her ear, so she obliges.

The noises she’s making aren’t flattering in the slightest. They’re an awful mixture of whines and groans, the cadence of them matching the slap of his hips against her ass.

“Fuck,” he huffs as she raises her hips to meet him, lifting them barely an inch or two off the bed.

If her sounds are getting him off, then his are sending her into another realm.

There’s something practically indescribable about getting another person off without trying to. Mason’s probably felt this high a million times in his existence, but it’s new to her.

With a few swivels of her hips, she’s got him just as worked up as her, and he lets her know.

“God, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous – so fuckin’ tight around me. Your cunt’s perfect for me, Sofía, oh my god,” he pants into her hair, gathering it in one hand at the nape of her neck.

He gently tugs her head to the side so he can kiss her, her eyes are already fluttering shut, her mouth parted as she’s nearing her high.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he murmurs, still watching her profile while she concentrates on the orgasm on the horizon.

“Just – fuck me like that – a little harder – and talk to me –” she manages a few broken demands.

“You’re doing so well taking my cock like that – can’t wait to feel you squeeze around me when you come,” he pants, curling his hips so he’s deeper in her, and she all but cries out, slapping a hand over her mouth.

“No, no, let me hear you – wanna see your pretty lips when you say my name –” his hips are stuttering. He’s close.

Thankfully, she gets there first, calling out his name, clenching her thighs to ride it out while he still pumps in and out of her erratically. He’s not far behind her.

When he comes in her, he groans this whiny groan like he’s the one being fucked into oblivion.

He slides out of her gently before plopping onto the bed next to her, tugging her to his side.

“I don’t know if I’ll wake up in 2 hours like I’m supposed to,” she murmurs, eyes heavy and half lidded from getting her back blown out in the dead of night.

“So I did a good job then?” He smirks, pressing a kiss to her sweaty bangs.

“A perfect job. You should just recreate this every time,” she sighs, pressing a kiss to the skin nearest to her, right on his outer chest.

“You’re asking me to fuck you like that every night? Don’t know if I can recreate it perfectly, but I’m up for the challenge,” he laughs, running a palm down her side.

She can’t remember what she says after that, as she’s fallen asleep topless, sweaty, and in ripped pants almost instantly.

He stays – watches her as she sleeps this time. And he thinks that she’s the most peaceful he’s ever seen her.