#getting back into an older flowery one-shot style is giving me a lil confidence

[masonscig]

reticent

pairing | mason x detective [sofía olmos]

word count | 1.1k

warnings | smut, nsfw, minors dni.

tags | @choicesarehard, @pixelsandkink, @senatorraines, @losingface, @agentsunshine, @raleiighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @katbee, @admdmrtn 

author’s note | i’d been working on this for a little while as a self indulgent piece and thought i’d share it after playing the demo. no spoilers, just my detective’s realization that the arrangement she had with mason morphed into something more. she caught feelings, y’all. not posting this on ao3 bc i figured it was a little too short and specific!

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She was bare.

Bare in the way that one is when they’ve been stripped down and torn apart with a trained gaze just calculating enough for them to feel seen – parts of her she didn’t know she’d hidden splayed out like withered pages of a book, dog-eared and marked up like a frequently reread novel.

One he’d reread because it was familiar, because it had fallen into his lap (he hadn’t searched for it), not so much because it was his favorite.

Rough hands over smooth skin, hard edges to soft curves – the paradox of their physicality was one not lost on Sofía.

She wasn’t dumb. She knew how different they were.

Different attitudes, different wants, different needs. Different worlds.

What started out as a way to relieve her frustrations, to ease her anxieties, had grown into something she hadn’t sought.

Disappointment after disappointment had culminated into a blow she wasn’t expecting. And it was her fault yet again.

Ever since Unit Bravo shot into her life like an asteroid, cracking the barrier of her world and ripping the veil off of her eyes, she’d been looking for something – anything – to take her mind off of it all.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited, or willing to embrace change. It was overwhelming. The looming fear of Murphy returning, of the Trappers coming for her, of her bounty being recompensed.

And for Sofía, fucking it out was the easiest solution. She knew it was just a distraction, but she convinced herself it was fine, even if it was just temporary.

Normally, she was able to shut her brain off when it was just her and Mason, focusing solely on pleasure, allowing herself to have a one-track mind for once.

But something about this time was different.

She couldn’t put her finger on it. He fucked her exactly the same: hard, fast, rough, with some sensual moments in between.

Maybe it was the way he gently stroked her thigh while positioned between them, tongue and hand working at a maddening pace.

Maybe it was the way he groaned her name when he bottomed out inside of her, the soft pant that followed when she arched into it one she’d never heard from him before.

Maybe it was the way he dug his fingertips into her flesh, hard enough to leave a line of crescent moon shaped bruises on her hips – markings only they could see.

Maybe it was the way he trained his eyes on her features as they contorted when he curled his hips – he could’ve just been admiring his handiwork, but something about the admiration in his gaze bordered on something more.

Whatever triggered the fluttering in her chest was there. Undeniably so. Her intuition was too strong to suppress whatever lurked in the depths of her mind.

She white knuckled the edge of the pillow, bangs clinging to the sweat on her brow as he drove into her at a relentless pace.

God, no one had ever fucked her like Mason had. What they lacked in emotional connection (on his end), they made up for with a physical one.

Something about Mason unleashed something primal within her, something buried deep that needed the right person to unlock it for her. And he had the key – was the key.

A moan escaped her, muffled by the pillow, prompting him to slow his pace. Anytime she was close, he pulled back, insisting on building up their high so the come down was even more incredible.

“Mason, please –” she whimpered, turning her head so he could hear her pleas. “Let me cum.”

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said, running both of his palms from the swell of her ass to the middle of her back, leaning over her as he pumped his hips slowly.

Before she could beg again, he hooked his arms underneath her and pulled her to her knees, her back flush against his chest, the new angle pushing a groan past her lips.

“Fuck,” he hissed, quickening his strokes again, seemingly unable to deny her any longer.

“Oh my god, yes –” she whined, head lolling to the side. She could barely hold herself up as he fucked up into her.

His movements became erratic – he was nearing his high. His hand snaked around her to circle her clit, prompting an even louder moan from her. 

He’d never leave her behind, no matter the situation.

When she hit her peak, she wondered if that was how Mason felt when his senses were overwhelmed. The feeling of his hands, his mouth, his cock, his moans in her ear – he was everywhere, and she couldn’t focus on a single aspect of her pleasure, instead basking in all of it.

He held her as she fell, the rough kisses peppered across her neck grounding her, bringing her back to reality.

For a split second, they said nothing, letting the soft, hoarse pants say what they couldn’t. He still held her, one arm across her shoulders, keeping her firmly in place, the other draped around her torso.

Her feelings were always at their height during the fleeting afterglow. But this time was still different than the ones before.

He could’ve pulled out and away, like he normally did. He could’ve rolled off the bed and lazily shrugged his shirt on. He could’ve walked away without a second glance.

But he didn’t. He simply held her.

And while it should’ve been a moment of triumph, one that solidified the feelings she couldn’t quite put a finger on, it was more of a loss than anything.

Flesh to flesh – it was the closest she could possibly get to him. But he was still miles away.

Lifting his arm from its place across her chest, he grasped her chin tightly, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against her parted lips.

He nearly cradled her as he laid Sofía on her stomach, gently pulling out of her and rotating her onto her back.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, swiping her damp bangs out of her eyes. His gaze never left hers as he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed her glasses, handing them over after unfurling the temples.

“Here.”

She took them and slipped them back on, eyes briefly adjusting. She hadn’t looked him directly in the eye since it hit her.

His eyes flitted across her face, searching. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sofía said quickly, shutting down the conversation and muffling whatever her heart was screaming at her to say.

“Something’s up.”

“No, I’m fine. I promise.”

He shrugged, clearly unconvinced.

She was, too.

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