Kinktober Day 12: Phone sex ll First Time ll Closet
Summary: You, a journalist for the local paper in Easttown, cannot help but to find yourself interested in Detective Sergeant Mare Sheehan. Your paths cross over and over (mostly by you). Eventually, Mare decides to seek out what you're all about.
Word count: 2.5k
Pairings: Mare Sheehan x Journalist!Reader
Rating: Mature (NSFW)
Warnings: Phone sex, first time, swearing, stalking, pet names, stripping, teasing, kissing, rough kissing, sex toys, strap-on, spit as lube, spit, scratching, rough sex, phantom limb, degradation, gender fuckery
Music inspo: Alive - Pearl Jam, Black - Pearl Jam, I Am The Highway - Audioslave, catch these fists - Wet Leg, Longview - Green Day, Takes One To Know One - The Beaches, Disarm - The Smashing Pumpkins, Wicked Game - Chris Isaak
You had never been loved like this.
The thrill of the chase; each time you ran into detective sergeant Mare Sheehan, you felt like your world was crumbling around you and getting smaller. Just a tiny pinpoint in the grand scheme of Easttown. You were lucky to be pulled into her orbit each time you got a possible hint on something or other that may or may not have to do with the recent murders.
Mare had taken an odd liking to you even though she would, more often than not, brush you aside when you'd ambush her outside of the station.
Mare would see that pen and pad of paper and your phone tucked haphazardly under your arm and shoot you a look of disappointment before heading into the building. Sometimes you'd even get a 'get lost' from her that made your heart flutter.
You had never been loved like this.
In the public eye she couldn't stand you and pushed you away; put on a very good show for her fellow officers and detectives. She'd tell you to your face to go fuck yourself and to let the families grieve; to stop putting your nose where it didn't belong. She'd purposefully ignore you at conferences and public announcements by the station. Her eyes would never meet yours but you couldn't look away.
Half of the time your note pad remained empty; not able to retain a single thing said or asked or answered because you were so wrapped up in just being in Mare's orbit.
But then the phone calls started after you had slipped her your personal card.
They were always obscenely late and it felt like the possibility of Mare being unable to sleep was the start of them in the first place. She had called and asked your name and what newspaper you worked for and if you were really a journalist or just some nosy bitch.
You laughed over the phone and felt that sense of defensiveness from her slowly slip away as you two got to talking.
She was determined to do her job and find the killer. You were determined to do your job and write piece after piece to inform the people.
The calls became more frequent after that.
You'd be in bed or on your couch, jotting down notes for another new article and Mare would call. Alert and spry, you always concluded she had just gotten off of a shift and was still awake enough to carry on a conversation. Sleep wouldn't hit her for a couple more hours. After you got done talking shop, you would dance around personal questions directed at her.
Where did she grow up? Did she always want to be a detective sergeant? Who had the best cheese steaks?
Mare's questions back at you had a different tinge to them as if she was trying to prod without being so obvious about it. That, obviously, made it even more obvious.
"If you want to tell me you're interested in me, you can just say so."
The call went quiet for a beat or two; allowing you to shift your phone to your other ear. You can hear Mare breathing on the other end as she tries to pull words out from her mouth.
"Are you at home right now?"
You can't sense any different tone in her voice except something that may signify the need to rush. Is she at home right now, you'd love to ask but don't. God forbid you kill this very rare mood you're both in.
"Sitting on my couch editing a new article, why?"
"You know why..."
You wish she could see the smirk on your face.
"Hold on...let me put you down and turn on spea-"
But before you even get the chance to, you hear a beeping sound that signifies a video call incoming.
Now you really bite down on your lip as you drag your phone away from your ear and prop it up on your coffee table before tapping accept.
Wherever Mare is, it's dark but definitely private. Probably her room with very low lighting. It looks like she's definitely just got home from work with her signature flannel still hung over her like armour. You wonder what she would look like without it. Maybe she'll show you.
You shove all your work out of the way and remove what you don't need off of the couch before you sink back into it. The two of you lock eyes for a mere second before Mare does a little wave of her hand in your direction,
"Let's see what you got, Lady Journalist."
You have to laugh at her and the name; knowing it's because you addressed her a few times as Lady Hawk. She told you she hated it and then proceeded to call you Lady Journalist in retaliation. Now it sounded flirty and promising; pushing some sort of professional boundary between you two.
"Oh...I got a lot, Miss Lady Hawk...care to see?"
You begin to peel away your tank top that doubled as what you were going to wear for bed. You dropped it off to the side so that it disappeared somewhere on the floor below. You make sure to let your fingers graze across your bare chest before you sit back against the chest. A complete tease you hoped had caught Mare's attention.
It most definitely did.
She had shifted herself around in such a way that her arm was laid directly in front of her with the wrist cut off from the camera view. Without a doubt, you knew she had shoved her hand down into her pants.
The smile on your face grows as you lean forward and watch as her eyes follow your chest.
"You like that, detective? Is this what you had in mind?"
The video call cuts out; back to a black, empty screen and you stare at it with disbelief. You didn't take Mare to be someone like that. She seemed to finish whatever she started.
You bend over to pick up your shirt from the ground when you hear your phone ding. You grab for it and stare at the screen.
There's a single text from Mare asking for your address.
Your fingers fly as you text her back and quickly get to cleaning up your place. You don't even bother putting your shirt back on.
It'll be one last step that Mare has to do before she, hopefully, fucks you stupid.
-
You crack the door open just an inch or two in case someone happens to walk or drive by. God forbid anyone see you partially naked who wasn't Mare. The detective basically kicked down the door the second she saw your face peeking out from behind it. She slammed it behind her with her free hand while her other held you tight against her. Kisses that were messy and hungry landed on your mouth and to its side; her tongue slipping in and out of your mouth. You can taste smoke lingering in her mouth from that goddamn vape pen you've caught her sucking on once or twice before.
Mare had been wanting to do this for so long and you were only realizing this now as her hands focused on you and her fingers roamed over your bare back and downwards to the waistband of your shorts.
"Mare..."
She doesn't use her words to respond, just her body as she walks towards you to make you walk backwards into your home. You try to steer her somewhere, anywhere. You veer left and catch yourself leading her into the kitchen. Great, you think to yourself, she's going to think you have some kink about wanting to be bent over the table and fucked like a whore.
But was wanting that really that bad?
You smirk against her lips which makes her do the same as she finally pulls away from you to catch her breath. You're trying to place the flavor of what her vape is as she whispers against your skin,
"Here? Right here?"
She had backed you up against your table; the edge of it digging into your skin. You gasped loudly against her mouth which, she determined, was all the permission she needed to lift you up to sit you down onto your table.
"I thought you didn't like nosy little journalists?..."
"I don't."
You try to catch your breath; inhaling sharply as she gets to work on tugging down your shorts until they hook around your ankles in which you point your feet down to let them slip away to the floor. You hear the scuffle of Mare's heavy boots as she kicks them out of her way. You groan loudly as you steady yourself on the table and take revel in how impatient she's been since the second she's been here.
No distractions, no interruptions. Nothing to intrude on what is to come between the two of you. She has the whole situation under control which isn't unlike her in most cases.
Even with the still-looming case of the missing girl that haunts Mare. You see it written all over her face every time you look at her. Now, with her hands all over your body, is no exception.
"Do you mind if I ask you some questions then?"
You catch the hesitation of her hands as they hover between you and her. She shoots you a look that makes your insides melt. She's verging onto disappointment and displeasure. It's easily broken the second you toss your head to the side and start to laugh at her.
Mare shakes her head and whispers a 'fuck' under her breath while she gets to work on pulling down her faded jeans.
"You really like to talk, huh?"
She asks but doesn't look at you as she does; her hands occupied as she lets her jeans drop to her ankles. She forgot she still had her boots on and curses once more as she tries to kick them off. It would have made you feel slightly embarrassed for Mare to watch her struggle like this if it wasn't for the fact that she wanted you so goddamn bad.
She had come over with her strap already snug around her hips.
"Fuck, Mare..."
With her boots kicked off along with her pants, she brings her right palm close to her face to spit on it. You watch wide eyed as she doesn't flinch, doesn't take a second thought to what she's just done. Her hand comes down to stroke off the silicone between her legs.
"I wasn't going to come empty handed...come on..."
The double entendre sinks into your bones as you squirm against the table. She's still stroking herself off; lost in catching that phantom feeling that only grows stronger between her legs.
You had no idea.
"I need you so bad, Mare...please..."
The begging drags her focus back to you and in a split second she's closed the gap between you both. The tip of her cock teases against your underwear; daring to push in with the fabric blocking direct contact. You groan loudly as you watch the spit-coated silicone prodding between your inner thighs.
You move quickly for Mare, your hands flying down to pull your underwear to the side so she can slip into you. She, like you, wastes no time at all as she grabs hold of your upper thighs. You can feel her fingers sink into the soft flesh; pointed towards your ass cheeks.
You help her move as she lifts you up from the table just enough to slip the head of her cock into you. Your legs come up, knees to her chest with your legs wrapped around her. The balls of your heels rest against the small of her back; against the soft of her flannel.
Her armour that would still wont see her without as she pushes herself deeper into your aching cunt.
"Fuck, Mare...I've been...thinking of you..."
"Uh huh...for how long?"
You want to answer her so badly. It feels like the second you read her name on your laptop screen. Marianne Sheehan. Your boss told you never to call her Marianne.
Mare snaps her hips towards you and fills you in one single thrust and you see stars burning behind your eyelids.
"That's it, babe...take it all..."
Back and forth; in and out. Your body shifts against the table as she fucks you with rhythm to her liking. Not necessarily hard or rough but enough to punctuate how badly she's been needing to fuck you; to be physical with you. You feel yourself draw in towards her as your body scrunches and folds. You want to feel her forehead on yours as she fills you to the fucking brim without remorse.
"So good...so good for me...how does this feel, baby?"
You try to suck in your breath to speak but let out a long, deep moan instead. You do feel her forehead graze yours; the sweat on her brow rubs off against your own. Mare only moves faster and the puffs of breath fall from her lips and onto your face and neck.
"You...you sound so fucking pathetic...god...how badly did you want me inside of you?"
Your moan shifts into a scream; cut by the saliva that wells in your throat. Your clawing at her skin; up and down her back as you try to catch the unmistakable need to allow your body to release fully around her. Your body screams at you to release, release and coat her cock with your cum.
You swear to god you won't be able to walk after this as you suddenly feel the hard table under your ass and the way her fingers press against bone.
Mare twists and shifts; lifts your leg and drags her fingers across your wet skin as you slowly pull away from her. It's as if a fog clouds your mind and blurs your vision as you become suddenly aware of everything in that second as it happens.
The wet silicone massaging your walls as you clench around her. Your nails scraping her skin and snagging on imperfections. Her hot breath you can barely feel now as she pants so heavily and deeply you know without a doubt how confident she feels.
Drowning for air until you release around her and the clench lessens around the soft silicone of her cock. You feel wet; dripping out of you and onto your thighs and the table below. Would it stain the wood? Would you think of Mare Sheehan fucking you every time you sat down here now for a meal?
It's unmistakable the feeling you get from Mare even though she doesn't verbally explain it. You know she wishes she could cum inside of you and fill you up. She wishes so desperately to watch you leak from how much she's managed to put inside of you.
Staking her claim; marking what's hers.
You had never been loved like this and for once, your placid mind has no need to ask detective sergeant Mare Sheehan any more questions.
