'FUCK ME TILL YOU CAN'T NO MORE THAN WE'LL SWITCH AND I'LL GET ON TOP!'
PAIRING:LOTTIE MATTHEWS x Reader
SUMMARY: You guys had a sleepover, and it was fun in the best way—nail polish, makeup, snacks everywhere, gossiping and talking. While you were reading a magazine, your intrusive thoughts slipped out, and you asked Lottie to “practice” kissing, which turned into something more… but that’s a future you problem.
JASMIN NOTE: hiii this was a request. i’ve been busy and sick :/ so this is my first time writing something like this ahh i’m nervous!! thanks for all the love byeee enjoy reading divider creds to @cursed-carmine @debetun @suupersonic
You were in Lottie’s room, the night messy in the best way—nail polish open, magazines scattered, clothes everywhere. The tv flickered a horror movie you guys wasn’t really watching anymore.
You flipped through the magazine. “The hottest guys of the year!” you said dramatically. Lottie glanced over for a second, then back down at her hands like it wasn’t that serious—but a small smile tugged at her face anyway. You looked up. “Lottie?” “Yeah?” she answered softly. You hesitated.
“Have you ever kissed someone before?” There was a pause. Not awkward—just like she was thinking in a different rhythm than you. “Yeah,” she said finally. You groaned a little.
“Ugh, of course you have.” That got a quiet exhale from her—almost a laugh, but not fully. “I figured you’d say that” she added. You stared at her for a second, then shifted a little on the bed. “…We could practice,” you said, trying to sound casual. Lottie looked up again. “Practice what?”
You shrugged, suddenly not as confident as before. “Kissing.”
There was a beat of silence. Then she tilted her head slightly, like she was actually considering it. “Okay,” she said simply.
That caught you off guard. “Wait—really?” She nodded once. For a moment, neither of you moved. The room felt quieter than before, even with the tv still flickering. You leaned in first, just a little. Lottie didn’t move away. But she didn’t rush either.
She just watched you for a second longer… then closed the space herself, slow and steady, like she was planning it. It wasn’t intense. It was careful. Controlled. Lottie would lean in for another one, nipping at your lip and tongue, blood drawn, but she kept kissing you, kept on making out as she gently bit your tongue.
"Practice," she whispered.
Her hand moved to the hem of your nightgown. The fabric was thin, worn cotton, but you felt the heat of her fingers through it. She didn't ask for permission she simply gripped the nightgown and tugged upward.
"Lift your arms," she commanded.
You obeyed without thinking, your body reacting to the authority in her tone before your mind could even process what she was saying. The cool air of the room hit your skin as she peeled the nightgown up and off. She took it off slowly then it was gone, tossed carelessly into the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. You sat there in just your panties, exposed. Your bare breasts and stomach. You crossed your arms over your chest instinctively, an attempt to hide, but Lottie reached out and pulled them away.
"Don't," she said. She pushed you back until you were lying against the pillows, your hair framing your face around you. "Let me see."
Her gaze raked over you, the way your nipples hardened in the chill. You felt your face burning, a flush that had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with being laid bare under her submissive. You had changed in front of her a hundred times, but this was different. This wasn't friendship it was sex.
"You're shaking," she observed, a smirk playing on her lips. She trailed a finger down the center of your chest, circling your body, then dipping lower to hook into the waistband of your underwear. "Are you scared, or are you desperate?"
You couldn't find your voice. Your throat was tight, dry. You just watched her hand, as her muscles flexed. She pulled your panties down in one smooth, rough motion, stripping you completely. The air felt heavy and very suffocating.
"Spread your legs," Lottie said. When you hesitated, she climbed between them, using her knees to force them apart. "I said spread them. Unless you want me to stop."
The thought of her stopping was worse than the humiliation. You let your knees fall open, feeling the cool air brush against the wetness already gathering between your thighs. You were soaked, and you knew she could see it. The evidence of your arousal was glistening on your folds, undeniable and shameful.
"Look how wet you are," she taunted, her eyes fixed on your exposed pussy. "You really need this, don't you? You're dripping."
She didn't give you time to respond. She slid two fingers into you without warning, thrusting deep and hard. You cried out, your back arching off the bed, your hands clutching at the vanilla-scented sheets. It was a shock, the sudden stretch, the way she filled you so completely. She curled her fingers immediately, finding that spot inside you that made your vision blur.
"God, you're tight," Lottie groaned, though her eyes never left your face, watching every twitch of pleasure and embarrassment. "Has anyone ever touched you here properly? Or do you just touch yourself thinking about it?"
She began to fuck you with her hand, pumping her fingers in a relentless rhythm. There was no gentleness, no slow build-up to ease you into it. It was aggressive, a claiming. The wet, squelching sound of her fingers driving into your cunt filled the room, loud and obscene, drowning out the television. You squeezed your eyes shut.
"Look at me," she snapped. She used her free hand to pinch your nipple, hard enough to make you gasp and your eyes fly open. "Don't you dare hide. Watch what I'm doing to you."
You locked eyes with her, humiliated by the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. She looked so in control, so composed, while you were falling apart beneath her. Her fingers were moving in and out, dragging against your walls with every withdrawal, then slamming back in. The pressure was building rapidly, a tight coil in your lower belly.
"Is this what you imagined when you asked to practice?" Lottie leaned down close, her hair touching your face, her breath hot against your ear. "Did you think I'd be sweet? Did you think we'd hold hands?"
She added a third finger, stretching you further, and you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily to meet her hand. You hated how your body betrayed you, how you ground down onto her fingers, desperate for more friction, more depth. You were fucking her hand back, eager and desperate the shame of it made the pleasure better.
"You're such a slut for this," she murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. "So fucking eager. I can feel you clenching around me. You're going to cum already, aren't you?"
You couldn't deny it, the orgasm was close you were at your peak you didn't know best friends could fuck this good. You moaned out as she went faster.
"Ask for it," she demanded, her fingers curling ruthlessly inside you, pressing deep against your g-spot. "Beg me to let you cum."
"Please," you choked out, the word wrecked and breathless. "Lottie, please..."
"Please, what?" She bit down on your neck, hard enough to leave a mark, sucking the skin into her mouth.
"Please let me cum," you sobbed, the humiliation burning through you, mixing the shame of your release. "I need to cum. Please, make me cum."
She laughed, a low, dark sound, and finally, mercifully, pressed her thumb hard against your clit while grinding her fingers deep. The stimulation was too much. A loud scream tearing from your throat as the orgasm crashed over you. Your pussy spasmed violently around her fingers, rippling and clenching, waves of pleasure washing out from your center until your entire body was shaking. You gushed around her hand, soaking her fingers, the cum leaking out onto her sheets.
Lottie didn't stop immediately. She milked it out of you, prolonging the aftershocks with slow, deliberate thrusts that made you gasp and twitch with over-sensitivity. She watched you the whole time, a satisfied smirk on her face, taking in your wrecked expression.
Finally, she pulled her fingers out. They were coated in your slick. She brought them to her mouth, maintaining eye contact, and licked them clean, one by one, tasting your cum.
"Good girl," she said, her voice thick with satisfaction. She wiped her hand on the inside of your thigh, marking you with your own wetness. "But we're not done practicing yet."
