tiredandsapphic

[tiredandsapphic]

୨ৎ SONG ABOUT ME

pairing ꩜ lottie matthews x femreader

summary ꩜ lottie snaps and admits her feelings for you, if not a bit messy, due to your ramblings

an ꩜ angst w/ comfort, fluff, lottie plays the guitar and i will die on that hill

poor lottie. having to listen to her best friend, you, ramble about this girl who you have a small crush on. it would’ve been something she’d indulge in, except for the fact that she’s been deeply in love with with you for years. countless songs written about you played on her guitar.

it’s the same as any other day, hanging out in your room after school. her guitar is in her lap. you’re doodling something in your sketchbook while mindlessly rambling about your day. more specifically about how the cute girl in your english class, jane, smiled at you across the cafeteria and you think it may have meant something but you’re ‘probably just being stupid’.

lottie’s fingers ceased their gentle strum on her guitar. this wasn’t the first time lottie has to swallow the knife, you completely unaware to the very knife you held.

she doesn’t look up.

you don’t notice the tension until the silence lasts a little too long.

“lott?” you say, tilting your head toward her, “you okay?”

she pauses then finally speaks.

“do you even hear yourself?”

your brows knit, her tone off putting. “what?”

she sets her guitar down—too fast, the strings cry a little as they clatter against the wood. she sits up more straight, stiff.

“it’s always jane this, jane that—“oh she looked at me a certain way”—and you sit there like i’m supposed to smile and nod like it doesn’t—”

she cuts herself off. shakes her head. tries to breathe and doesn’t succeed.

“lottie, what’s going on?” you ask, confused.

she looks at you, finally. and it wrecks you. you’ve never seen her like this. the way her eyes shine with unshed tears, how red her cheeks are, her fists balled up at her sides like shes physically trying to hold herself together.

“you don’t get it, do you?” her voice cracks. the same way it cracks when she sings songs she wrote about you.

“you talk about her like it’s harmless, like it’s funny, while i sit here, trying not to explode every time you say her name.” she floods with emotions.

“why would you—”

“because im inlove with you!” her voice is trembling, loud. like she couldn’t stop if she tried.

she continues, already in too deep. “i have been so in love with you. since—god, since forever. since you wore that stupid dress in freshman year and made me laugh until i forgot how to breathe. since you fell asleep on my shoulder watching grease. since you listened to my songs i wrote that were about you and you didn’t even notice.”

silence.

the air in the room stills. her breath is ragged and your heart is hammering.

her voice quiets, weaker now. “i can’t sit here and listen to you talk about some girl whose never going to look at you the way i do. i won’t.”

you stare at her.

she flinches like you already rejected her. ruined years of friendship, sleepovers and secrets.

“i know you don’t feel the same. i know. i just…i had to say it before i lost my mind. so if you hate me now, or never want me back, thats—fine. im just—im tired of pretending it doesn’t ache.” she shifts, lifting off your bed, standing.

she turns like she’s going to leave the room because of course she is, thats what lottie does—she flees. she spirals. she hides.

though your voice stops her, quiet and small. “lottie. wait.”

she turns slowly, shame and embarrassment on her face.

and she sees your face full of something she hasn’t seen before. it’s not confusion or pity.

realization.

“i didn’t know,” you say breathlessly, heart racing, “i think… i think i wanted to know. i think i did. but i kept telling myself you’d never…”

she takes a hesitant step forward.

“you don’t have to say anything just because—”

but you pull her forward by her wrists before she can continue, and kiss her like it’s an answer to a question you hadn’t known your heart was asking for months.

she kisses you back after making a small noise of surprise. she presses against you like she’s afraid you’ll regret it halfway. except you won’t—neither of you will—because you’ve been denying yourselves for too long.

later that evening you’re both curled up on your bed, her guitar abandoned. your head on her chest, her heart still beating faster, but that ache is gone. her fingers trace shapes on your wrist, still trembling with post adrenaline.

“so… do i still have to worry about jane?” she asks.

you grin against her. “no lottie, you win. im totally into intense girls who write songs about me and cry when they admit their feelings.”

she groans. “oh my god,”

you laugh and kiss her cheek. “im listening now, and im more than happy to be your muse till the end of time.”

and she knows you will be.

[tiredandsapphic]

im not okay…i need her carnally

Wait with you doing a summer collection have we thought to consider maybe like a fratboy tfem lottie taking reader to her father’s newly built lake house vacation home for the weekend just the two of them she pitches it as a way to relax before the next semester of college starts but it’s really so she christen every room of the house by fucking reader 🫢 partially as a fuck you to her dad other half bc reader looks so fucking good 🥀

— SUMMER GETAWAY with fratboy lottie matthews

warnings: nsfw content. mdni. tfem!lottie & fem!reader. oral (r/lottie!receiving). vaginal fingering (r!receiving). unprotected p in v sex. all porn and no plot, i fear.

lottie pitched the idea as the two of you stroller off campus. “a couple days by the coast,” she said. “we’ll hang out, maybe get a little sun before school wrecks us again. what do you say?”

hard to say no to lottie matthews, especially when she’s offering a whole, relaxing weekend alone in her family’s new lake house. the second the two of you roll up though, bags dumped by the entryway and the keys tossed onto the counter, it dawns upon you that you’d gotten this part wrong: this weekend isn’t about relaxation at all.

you can feel lottie gawking at you in your summer dress, dragging her tongue over her teeth as she gives you a little house tour. “you look good here,” she murmurs eventually, resting her hands on your hips from behind. “let’s make the place feel like home, hm?”

THE BEDROOM

it starts with lottie tossing your suitcase aside, announcing that “you’ll unpack later”, her mouth already trailing down the side of your neck.

lottie’s rings graze your ribs as she shoves your dress up to your hips, exposing your underwear. you’re soaked; you have been, long before your back hits the mattress, parting your thighs as lottie sinks to her knees at the edge of the bed.

she doesn’t rush (she loves watching you squirm too much for that), her fingers curl around the back of your thighs to spread you open wider, grinning as she kisses around where you need her.

only after relentless teasing to a point where you’re dripping onto the sheets, your hips bucking uselessly to try and chase lottie’s tongue, does she put her mouth on you. lottie’s tongue circles your clit until you’re clawing at the mattress, panting her name into the pillow.

and she doesn’t stop either, not until you’re shaking, whispering, “lottie, lottie- god, please” all overstimulated.

THE BATHROOM

the bathroom is where lottie takes you next (no pun intended), with your hands pressed to the fogged mirror as she fucks you from behind, a hand wrapped securely around your throat. she’s naked in the reflection, her hair still wet from the shower you took after your little bedroom escapades. next to her, there’s you, flushed, teary-eyed, with your mouth parted as lottie whispers filth into your ear. “look at you,” she purrs, dragging her fingers between your folds. “all that pretty attitude gone the second i touch you like this.”

the sink digs into your hips, which you barely notice as lottie thrusts into you, watching your eyes roll back with a groan of her own. when you come, she forces your gaze back to the mirror, peppering the side of your face in kisses. “that’s it. let me see.” lottie manages, grunting as her own orgasm washes over her, filling you up.

THE KITCHEN

you’re trying to fill a glass at the sink after a long beach day when lottie appears behind you, pressing the length of her body against yours. you feel her slip under your top, playing with your nipples before dipping straight into your panties.

lottie finds your clit quickly, working you in clockwise circles as you clutch the edge of the counter and the sound of your slick fills the kitchen. she turns your head toward her with a tug on your chin, sliding two fingers into you with obscene ease the moment your eyes meet. lottie mirrors your expression, moaning when they slide inside. “that’s it.” she groans. “always so ready for me, huh?” you nod, gasping while she adds a third, her thumb rolling soft pressure above.

later, you’ll eat dinner on that exact same counter, lottie feeding you bites off her fork, pretending she hadn’t ruined you on it <3

THE LIVING ROOM

you end up in her lap there, straddling lottie on the couch while some movie plays on in the background, lighting up the tv screen. lottie is spread wide in a pair of shorts pooling by her ankles, holding your waist where you’re sitting.

she’s inside you already. she has been ever since you sat down, thick and angled to make you twitch and clench around her cock every time you grind down. “that’s it, baby,” lottie murmurs under her breath, groaning weakly. “show me how bad you wanted it.”she keeps her palm splayed over your lower back, controlling the pace so you feel every inch of her.

“lottie-” you breathe, digging your nails into her shoulders.

in one fluid motion, lottie shifts, gripping you by the hips and flipping the two of you over so your back is flat on the couch cushions and she’s above you. her cock stays buried inside, your legs falling open around her hips as she pins your wrists to the side. she makes you come multiple times in this position, her pelvis grinding down against your clit.

THE GUEST BEDROOM

because, of course, their house has got multiple bedrooms, including some for the guests that lottie has to “show you”.

show you, with your face down in the sheets, knees spread, hands clutching the headboard while she holds your wrists down and fucks you as the bed knocks against the wall.

“this is where the boring people stay.” she explains conversationally, chuckling when you moan in response. “wonder what they’d think seeing you like this,” at this, her hips slam into you harder, instantly making you moan. lottie leans over, tongue tracing the shell of your ear as she murmurs “fuck, you feel good.”

THE OUTDOOR SHOWER

lottie is shirtless when she corners you outside, in a damp black bikini tied tight where thin brown hairs grow under her navel (#bush + bulge in a bikini). the two of you have barely dried off from swimming, and she’s already leading you behind the side gate, where the house’s outdoor shower waits, nothing but trees and a slatted wood wall between you and the horizon.

once the water starts, lottie is leaning against the wall, arms braced behind her head, while she watches you drop to your knees instinctively. the sight of her like this (again: #bush + bulge in a bikini!!!) is too much not to.

her cock twitches through the bikini bottoms as you run your fingers over the bulge, then peel off the wet fabric to let her spring free and slick her with your spit. “look at you,” lottie murmurs, tangling her fingers in your wet hair. “i haven’t even said anything yet”

you glance up, blinking water from your lashes. “don‘t have to,” you whisper, before you drag your tongue along the underside of her cock. lottie feels huge in your mouth. you have to take her in slowly, jaw stretching around the length of her, lips wet and full as your fingers grip her thighs. lottie’s hips twitch forward, the sensation of your throat making her hiss.

the patter of the shower drowns out your gag when she starts to fuck your mouth gently, in and out, her grip in your hair tightening.

“fuck baby- look so good like this. bet if i touched you right now-”she doesn’t finish, but pulls out with a wet pop, lifts you by the arms, and flips you to face the wall. her tip drags against your ass as she presses up behind you, fingers finding you dripping wet. “my god,” she groans. “you have been wet.”

lottie lines herself up, head slick with your spit and the water, and sinks in with one hard stroke. you moan instantly, pressing your forehead to the wall, nails scratching down the tile. lottie’s hips smack against yours, the slap of it lost in the steam.

your knees buckle, pleasure tearing through you as the world shrinks to the stretch between your thighs. lottie wraps her arm around your waist, holds you there, fucking you through it until you’re gasping, your orgasm hitting suddenly. even then, she doesn’t stop, chasing her own pleasure too.

finally, she comes hard. clinging to you with a growled, “fuck,” lottie bites your shoulder and rides it out. together, you collapse against the wall.

eventually, she kisses the back of your neck and murmurs, “we’re so fucking doing that again before we leave.”

— a/n: i will say that i’ve been working on this over the past couple of days, so if any of these scenarios feel a little repetitive, let’s collectively ignore that!! 😭😭 (also, apologies to the anon who requested it! sorry it took me this long, considering this was one of the first summer requests! i hope the amount of smut makes up for it!)

[tiredandsapphic]

cooking something up guys—i swear!!!

[tiredandsapphic]

ugh shy lottie <3

Could you pleasee write a fic where Lottie has the BIGGEST crush on reader ( who doesn’t play soccer) and the team always makes fun of her for it and one day at a party she gets the courage to talk to reader (from the help of tai hyping her up 😭)

fool for u

summary; lottie matthews has always watched from a distance—watching her, the girl with paint-stained fingers and soft eyes who doesn’t even know the rules of soccer but somehow has lottie completely captivated. the team knows, and they won’t let her forget it.

warnings; none!

notes; had to study but did this pretty quickly. thank you for requesting!

“she’s doing it again,” van said during practice, nodding toward the bleachers.

“the staring?” nat asked without looking.

“no. the yearning.”

lottie, standing nearby and trying to pretend she hadn’t just been caught gazing dreamily across the field, sighed. “i’m not yearning.”

you were sitting alone, sketchbook in your lap, legs folded up under you, completely unaware that you’d derailed lottie’s entire nervous system just by existing. you weren’t on the team, didn’t hang out with the soccer girls, but lottie saw you in the library sometimes. in the art room. on quiet walks behind the school, headphones in. always soft. always kind. untouchable.

“she’s so gone,” van said. “like, full-blown disaster crush.”

“she’s doomed,” nat agreed.

“you’re both annoying,” lottie muttered, cheeks hot.

“nah, they’re right,” taissa said, stepping up beside her. “but good news is, you’ve got a chance to do something about it. friday. jackie’s party.”

lottie blinked. “a party? you want me to flirt at a party?”

“i want you to talk to her,” tai said. “flirting is a bonus.”

“no,” lottie said immediately. “i’ll say something weird. or trip. or spontaneously combust.”

“then i’ll light a candle for you,” van said solemnly.

—

friday night came faster than lottie wanted it to. jackie’s house was already full of people by the time they arrived, lights low, music loud, alcohol flowing.

lottie lingered by the door, anxiety buzzing like static in her chest.

and then she saw you.

you were in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup in hand, laughing at something someone said. soft lighting. denim jacket. perfect, perfect, perfect.

tai elbowed her. “you got this. go.”

lottie turned to her. “what if i—”

“just go. you’re not gonna die.”

“you don’t know that.”

tai raised an eyebrow. “lottie. you’re rich, hot, and vaguely haunted. lesbians love that.”

somehow, that pushed her forward.

she crossed the kitchen, heart thudding in her ears. you looked up when she got close, and your face lit up.

“hey,” you said. “didn’t think you’d come.”

“i usually don’t,” lottie admitted, fingers curled tight in her sleeves. “but i thought… maybe you’d be here.”

your smile tilted. “is that your way of hitting on me?”

lottie hesitated. “…yes?”

you laughed, soft and warm. “it’s working.”

meanwhile, from the living room:

“she’s doing it,” van whisper-shouted.

tai just took a sip of her drink. “told you. all she needed was a push.”

back in the kitchen, lottie was still processing what you’d said.

“i’ve kind of… wanted to talk to you for a while,” she said quietly.

“yeah?” you asked, smile growing softer. “i was kinda hoping you would.”

lottie stared. “really?”

you nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “you stare a lot.”

“i know,” lottie groaned.

“it’s okay,” you said. “you’re cute when you’re nervous.”

that nearly killed her. she laughed, quiet and breathless. “do you maybe wanna go outside? it’s… loud in here.”

you looked up at her with those big, honest eyes. “only if you hold my hand.”

lottie blinked. then, slowly, her fingers found yours—tentative, warm, like hope.

she smiled.

“okay.”

[tiredandsapphic]

lottie cuddlefuck in the wilderness😛

ofc ofc 🙂‍↕️ here it is

[tiredandsapphic]

꩜ JUST CUDDLES

pairing ꩜ lottie matthews x femreader

summary ꩜ where lottie and you find a way to tether yourselves to each other in the wilderness

an ꩜ fluff nsfw…blurb cuz life be so busy <\3

you and lottie always have been close before the crash. sleepovers in her giant room, high on dumb snacks and teenage fears, joking about the future like it wasn’t going to collapse beneath you. though one thing you would never imagine going through together is having your plane crash deep within the wilderness.

it had only made sense that the both of you clung to each other, like your only grounding source. lottie came to you for everything, her worries, thoughts and well once you discovered the cabin you noticed her behaviour shifting.

you two of course shared the same bed in the cabin, duh. even when the others said there was more than enough supplies to make another bed. it was more practical for her to sleep you with, right? she made her claim. plus, it was getting colder at night, so every time you were fast asleep and lottie felt the threat of sleep she would slip in beside you. close, wanting to feed off your warmth and your security you brought her in such a tormented place. it wasn’t uncommon to wake up with her long arm around your waist, another under your head, legs tangled with yours and her breath steady on your neck.

lottie wanted to make you queen. softly suggesting it somedays, nearly demanding it other nights. you cared for her but not this spiral the other girls fed off. you were opposed to that, wanting to feel human still. you hate watching people blindly follow her and she hates even more that you’re not one of them.

you’re not really sure when or how it happened. but it was after the cabin burnt to the ground. you remember standing there that night, watching the ambers engulf it, lottie’s hand slipped into yours. when you peered over, the smile on her face was undeniable. she nudged you slightly, leaning down to whisper towards you. “it’s a sign of new beginnings. it wanted this.”

after that everything just went down hill faster. when the huts were made it wasn’t even a question that lottie and you would share a hut. you built it together—well maybe lottie did a lot of the work, she wasn’t that tall for nothing. you lived together like a little fucked up family now, coming ‘home’ to each other.

just cuddling quickly crossed a line, neither of you truly opposed to the idea. it happened one night, lottie spiraling just a little more than usual—you’ve had a tense day of arguments with shauna. it all just exploded that night, lottie whispering too many cryptic things, you already on edge.

“you know we’re supposed to be together, right?” she whispers, crawling closer to you on the hut ground, grabbing your hand.

you furrow your brows and scoff, not denying your hand however, “okay lottie, sure, the trees told you that.”

she simply shakes her head, dead serious, deep brown eyes on set on you. “i see it when im out there. me and you. it’s not a coincidence, it’s purpose.”

and she speaks like shes preaching a sermon—you nearly believe it for a moment. but without question your lips are colliding in frustration. it’s not neat or romantic, it’s primal.

after that it’s ritual. maybe it’s to keep you both a little more sane but it works—and neither of you are complaining. lottie fucks you like it’s a prayer and you take it like a sacrifice. the other girls are so aware of the relationship between you two but don’t dare to question it. no—lottie’s taken a firm possession on you. they know you’re hers.

whenever someone had ticked you off, lottie is there to listen. always. you’ve cried to her countless time, and she held you. cuddled up with you, holding you in her warm embrace. then proceeded to eat you out for hours. until you forget why you were crying. she takes you to another world so any problems you have here don’t matter anymore.

lottie is never found not drawing symbols on you with her fingers. whether it’s just while she holds you, or perhaps when you’re gasping against her. are they for protection or claim? you’ll never know.

most days are soft though. softness is needed in a place like the wilderness, everything is so sharp amongst the group. most nights you’re tangled together, bare and skin to skin. it’s so slow and somehow safe. lottie takes her time with you, knuckles deep in you but her words so achingly sweet. “i was made to love you and you were made to take it.” and when you come? “you’re so gorgeous when you come. you’re the prettiest thing out here.”

it’s the best when you’re in the hut, sleeping snd lottie decides to finally join. she slips in beside you, slender fingers trailing under your clothes, the pads of her fingers grazing your skin. it’s home that she’s learnt to love, and home that she’s too accustomed to now. you know how calm her down, to reassure her, and exactly where to touch her.

you’ll never be too sure what you have. you don’t push. even when she talks too much of signs snd letting go of earthy attachments. but when you’re curled together under your hut, when she kisses your neck and falls asleep with her breath on your neck—shes just lottie. your safe place. even if the wilderness is slowly taking her away from you.

[tiredandsapphic]

꩜ STILL INTO YOU

pairing ꩜ lottie matthews x femreader

summary ꩜ reconnecting with lottie turns out to be a lot more physical than you anticipated

an ꩜ nsfw! wc 2.3k | not edited don't come for me

It all happened because you thought it would be a good idea to help look for Nat. Maybe it was the righteous choice—or maybe powered by guilt. Guilt of disappearing after rescue.

Except, what the hell were you supposed to do? You’d all pretty much agreed not to stay in touch after the rescue. And the minute you saw some of them bring back that anarchy into normal civilization, you fled. Fuck that shit.

Maybe what you had done after that wasn’t so graceful, but you did what you had to do to survive. So when you noticed all that free press and camera attention, you jumped at that. Half lying memoirs, tearful interviews and fake stories turned you into some media pawn. Of course no one stepped out to stop you, no because they couldn’t, because the public couldn’t handle the real truth of the wilderness.

Like any other social pawn the burnout was rough—parties, drugs, a complete spiral. You were everywhere except where you should have been, in contact with them. With her.

So when you pulled into the community which immediately struck you as a cult, your former teammates had a sour taste in their mouth.

The girls iced you out, at this point not even sure if you were ever a yellowjacket. Except for Lottie. When she saw you it’s like a blow to the ribs. She didn’t say anything—she couldn’t. She could just stare.

That whole day was full of aggression, mostly passive but it stung. It was a double edged sword. Maybe seeing who could get who to crack first.

At some point in the late evening she dug the dagger in, “you used our trauma.” And her tone is so raw you almost crumble.

“You found some bullshit god. I found coke. We all survived somehow.” You bite back in front of everyone, then retreat to a cabin the cult commune had prepared for you. Running away like you did best.

You just crave a bed, solitude—probably an advil too. But much to your luck, your cabin door swings back open before you can even get it closed.

And in comes a fuming Lottie. Though it’s a silent and precise anger.

“I can’t believe you just came back here like this—like nothing happened.” Her voice is strict, on edge.

You whip around, an eye nearly twitching. Already agitated from the long day. The arguments and insults. “I didn’t come back for you, Lottie.”

“Oh right. You came back to play hero. How’d you find the time between all your rehab and interviews? Or wait—is it another chapter for your book, did you need more reason to write another?” She laughs bitterly, but her eyes are glassy.

Your jaw clenches, the chair next to you looking very tempting to throw. “You don’t get to fucking judge me.”

She goes to open her mouth again in another snap but you shake your head, snapping back before she can.

“You went off and played messiah in the woods. At least I didn’t pretend to heal.” And that hits too deep. For the both of you.

“You think I wanted all of this? That I chose this over you? You didn’t even give me a choice.” The tension in the room is growing thicker. It could choke you.

“You disappeared just like I did. But I didn’t pretend to be fucking enlightened about it.” 

She suddenly steps in close, towering you with her presence. Her anger. Grief.

“I didn’t write us into a paperback trauma media attraction.” Her voice is low and venomous. It flushed you with guilt.

“You think I wrote about you?” you let out an airy laugh, “you’re not that special, Charlotte.” That's a lie. You both know it.

You’ve written so many pages, chapters, maybe even books about it. In tears, anger, love and guilt. Cut out last minute, letting it simmer within you instead.

And suddenly her lips are on yours. Bruising. No warning, just fury. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you in because she hates you for existing and hates herself for still wanting you.

It took more air out of you than seeing her again after all these years. And you can’t pull away, because you’re still her girl. 

“You still taste the same,” she whispers against your lips and you whimper.

You kiss her back, equal force. She knows she can’t pull away either, the damage is done. You're in her bloodstream again.

She shoves you against the wooden wall, a soft ‘umph’ leaving you until shes already back on you. You simply pull her in harder. Fingers grasping her shoulders.

“Do you still think about it?” she hisses against your lips, “back then?”

You exhale a ragged yes, to which she bites your lip in response to.

It’s messy. Too much teeth, little care. It’s feral, it’s the fucking wilderness again. Her swift hands tear your shirt over your head, like it’s made of paper.

She pulls back briefly, your heavy breathing mingling, replacing your earlier shouting. Deep brown eyes burn with so much emotion as they drag down the swell of your tits within your bra.

With hunger, she dives down towards your neck, which you immediately offer up to her, tilting your head back. She gropes your tits rather harshly as she plants hot, wet kisses along the column of your throat. 

It’s not long until she undoes the clasp of your bra, tearing it from you, her hands now flush against your skin. You’re hot, flushed, and utterly burning for her. Her hands travel to drag her nails down your spine, then to the waistband of your pants.

She gets your jeans about halfway down before she spins you around, pressing your front against the wall. The wood, much cooler than your skin, makes you suck in a harsh breath.

Her breath is hot against your neck. “You hate me,” she murmurs against your ear, “say it.”

“I do,” you gasp, instinctively grinding back against her. “I fucking hate you,” you breathe out, trying to convince yourself through desperation.

In the same breath she moves your, now soaked, underwear to the side, pushing two fingers into you. Your head falls back against her shoulder.

You were so wet she let out a low hum, approvingly. She knew your body like the back of her hand, she always had.

You clench around her fingers when she finds a perfect rhythm of deep and slow thrusts. And when she curls her fingers just right? You whimper. Your arousal is so evident as it collects between your thighs. Her fingers were so cruel and loving. A harsh caress.

Your hand scrambles to brace yourself against the wall, suddenly your limbs are so weak. She takes your other wrist and pins it above your head, her fingers never ceasing their relentless rhythm.

“I wish I could hate you,” she whispers, making you whine louder. Now her words and fingers had you unfolding.

And once she adds friction to your needy clit it’s over. Lottie knows between your high pitched moans and the way you clench around her, you were close.

Her mouth is so soft when she kisses your shoulder. Whispering soft praises to your ear, “let go for me, prove you’re still mine.”

And you do. That white hot burn wracks your body as you come. Her name slips from your lips like a prayer. Your legs trembling as she helps you ride out your bliss, your head heavy against her shoulder.

Her movements slow, and then she’s withdrawing her fingers, earning a weak whimper from you. Your body is unstable, to which she had no problem keeping you upright. The mixture of the stressful day, outbursts of emotion and being fucked senseless against a wall proving to have done a number on her.

She flips you back around, her eyes and face now gentle. The kindness you were once accustomed to coming back.

“I got you.” She whispers, drawing her fingers covered in your arousal to her mouth. She sucked them clean, eyes on yours, pupils blown wide. A low moan escaped her.

You shuddered, thighs clenching together. Your lips still parted with heavy breaths.

She pulled you into another kiss, much softer than earlier. Her tongue slipped between your lips, exploring somewhere she had almost forgotten.

Her body guided you to take shaky steps, mouth still on yours. You felt the edge of the bed against the back of your legs, then Lottie pushed you backwards. With a soft bounce you melted into the sheets. They reeked of scandal-wood and yearning.

She looked down at you like you were precious, even after everything. She tugged the rest of your pants off, along with your underwear, leaving you completely bare. Evidence of your unraveling still between your thighs.

You watch her closely, Lottie standing at the foot of the bed like a goddess. Your mouth goes dry when she starts to slowly undress. It’s teasing and everything you need, watching her slip her loose dress off herself. Your face flushes when she’s completely bare, heat humming on the surface of your skin.

“Beautiful,” you whisper, which she smiles softly at.

Lottie joins you on the bed of soft linen sheets, crawling across it to you. When her skin makes contact with yours, you can't help but let out a small gasp. You hadn’t known how much you missed the sensation until now. She presses her body against you, situating herself so her thigh is pressed between your legs.

You fit together perfectly, your own thigh slotting between her legs, mind whirling when you feel how wet she is. Her hands gently cup your jaw to pull you up a little, pressing her lips back to yours.

Her kisses are so soft now, her kisses are a penance, an apology to the aggression. She presses her thigh against your, once again, aching cunt, making you moan into her moan. You can feel the way she shifts against your own thigh, hips rolling.

Her lips move against you just as her hips do, slow, sensual and meaningful. Each slow movement adds enough friction to your core, making you whine.

She pulls away slowly, eyes heavy with arousal, “gods, I’ve missed you,” she whispers, her voice perfectly husky. You swear you could catch tears forming in her eyes.

Her confession just urges you on, rolling your own hips to grind down on her thigh. Her breath hitches and she brings a guiding hand to grip your hip.

“Fuck…— L-lottie.” You rasp out, a mix between a moan and a choke.

She hums in response, tilting her head, still guiding your hip. Her other hand travels up your torso, pausing to caress your tits.

Your body is still her temple and she knows every damn prayer.

She watches every expression and crease on your face. Both of your breaths grow heavier, making the heat between the two of you grow.

“You’re doing so good, take what you need,” she hushes, her tone heavy with lust.

And you do just that, grinding against her thigh with more strength, the wetness on her thigh growing, all to Lottie’s liking. As you quicken, she dips her head to your neck, soft bites and sucks. You tangle your fingers in the thick tresses of her dark hair, gently tugging.

A low groan rumbles in her throat in response, littering gentle marks of her love on your skin. Your body trembled against her as your grinding grew more desperate. Her own body mirrored the gentle trembles, knowing you were drawing closer again.

“Good girl, s’good for me,” her breath is warm against your ear.

She pulls back just enough to press her forehead against yours, eyes shut in bliss, chasing her high.

Your fingers trembled in her hair as you grew dangerously close, Lottie’s hand never ceasing to guide you while riding her thigh. Soon enough you’re coming again, on her thigh, as you push yours against her. Your cries carry through the cabin, urging Lottie on.

She's falling over her peak just as you are, her body tense with your name slipping from her mouth. Just as you pant she presses a searing kiss against your mouth, swallowing each other's moans.

The wave of intense pleasure soon subsides, and you’re worn out, body pressed against hers. Her arms wrap around you, kissing your temple when your face is deep in her neck. She guides you to lay back on the bed, laying beside you, holding you close as both of your breaths shallow out.

She brushes some hair stuck to your damp skin from your face, and all you can do is look at her face with a hazy gaze. Her eyes are sickeningly soft, “you okay?”.

You swallow and nod, then smile tiredly. “Mhm,” you hum.

Her eyes flicker over your face, taking you in all over again. “You’re so gorgeous, especially like this.” She says while she gently brushes her thumb over your cheek.

The silence that falls between you both isn’t awkward. It’s tiring. Healing. Basking in the warm aftershocks.

You nestle closer to her, and she pulls you in more, head resting on her chest. You can hear the calm beat of her heart beneath you, soothingly therapeutic. Her arm wraps around you, splaying across your back as her other hand runs through your hair. Like she can’t stop touching you in case you slip away from her again.

Lottie wants to ask what this means now, or to wonder how this may just blow up all over again, but your voice drags her from her thoughts,

“don’t let me leave again,” you whisper against her skin, already half asleep.

There's so much more to say but the way your legs are tangled together and your sleeping breaths fan across her skin says all.

Just for a moment you’re teenagers again, old lovers. And that's enough of an answer.

[tiredandsapphic]

RULES AND GUIDELINES

୨ৎ requests open .ᐟ ୨ৎ masterlist

꩜ what i will write

character x reader

sfw fluff angst nsfw

darker content/themes

꩜ what i won’t write

male reader (this blog is not for u)

any extreme kinks—yknow the weird ones

꩜ ground rules

18+ as i write nsfw content on here—but that being said i cannot control what media you take in so, do whatever i ain’t responsible for that

i appreciate a request that’s descriptive, makes both our lives easier, i wanna make sure you’re getting what you wanted!

full time uni student+commission artist so life gets busy and writing is just a side hobby so sometimes an update takes awhile—please be patient

don’t be afraid to go crazy in the reqs, i will pretty much write whatever, and worst case scenario i just won’t write it, so don’t be shy. if you have literally any questions or something isn’t clear please ask, i am happy to answer. also feel free to send whateva in my inbox i swear i don't bite!

୨ৎ my fandoms

yellowjackets (current hyperfixation)

the boys

marvel

criminal minds

[tiredandsapphic]

reader catching lottie jerking off to a porn magazine where there's a model that looks just like them😛

mhm this made me think a lot of thoughts… anyways i shall provide here

love letting my freak free outta her cage once a week 😻

[tiredandsapphic]

꩜ THE REAL THING

pairing ꩜ lottie matthews x femreader

summary ꩜ accidentally walking in on lottie touching herself to a model who looks a lot like you

an ꩜ nsfw g!p, standing ovulation—i mean ovation…needed an excuse to write gp lottie cuz well, im a whore

you hadn’t thought anything of it when the matthew’s household maid let you in. it was the usual, perks of being lottie’s dearest friend. she greeted you warmly, offering to take whatever you were occupied holding and told you lottie was most likely in her room.

“lottie’s in her room last i remember, dear.” she said as you slipped past, nodding and making your way around.

you approached her door, which had been left open a crack, inviting if anything. your steps only halted when the softest grunts came from the other side of the door. with great confusion and even greater curiosity you nudged the door open a bit, quietly.

your eyes immediately widened the moment your eyes fell on lottie. she sat on the edge of her bed, hunched over a bit, her hand on her dick, stroking herself.

the warmth that flushed over you was indescribable. you were nearly paralyzed by the shock, watching your bestfriend jerk herself off in front of you.

completely lost in her own bliss, lottie didn’t feel your presence for a few long moments. only until you let out a slight shuddering breath did the girl’s head snap directly to the doorway. her eyes widened like yours, mirroring your shock. a small yelp left her lips in fright, immediately attempting to cover herself with a nearby pillow. “shit!”

her brown eyes filled with shame and embarrassment, a true deer in headlights.

you blinked a few times, mouth opening and closing, not being able to grasp any words that want to come out.

“i—oh god—lottie i didnt mean to—” you finally choke out, shaking your hands frantically, swallowing hard.

lottie struggles to even reply, too embarrassed. wishing the earth would open up and swallow her whole.

your eyes catch something on her bed, something her gaze had been trained on while she worked herself. it was an open magazine, some sort of porno magazine she definitely stole from a convenience store. you could’ve shrugged it off but the model on the page it was open on made your heart hammer harder.

you took a step forward, narrowing your gaze on the magazine. lottie followed your gaze and tried to quickly grab the magazine but you acted too quick, grabbing it before she can.

“wait, wait!” she whines, hand falling short, “you’re…fuck… you’re not supposed to see that.” her voice is hoarse from earlier activities. she bites her lip, looking at you with even greater shame.

your eyes flickered from her then to the page again, confirming your suspicion. the model on the spread looked so much like you it was uncanny. right down to the hair, body type and god, even her eyes were a carbon copy of yours.

“this—this looks a lot like me.” you say, voice quiet. “oh my god,” you add in realization. lottie was getting off to you—well—almost you.

“are you—are you seriously—” you stammer in disbelief.

“I wasn’t!” she quickly cuts in, “it really isn’t what it looks like.” her voice is high pitched, face burning, trying to plea her case. a very guilty case.

“uh-huh,” you nod, clearly not convinced one bit, handing the magazine back. you’d only be lying by saying the whole ordeal didn’t ignite something within. was this really the affect you had on her?

she grabs it so fast it crumples the page, her gaze avoiding yours. “can we just—can you just leave and we pretend this never happened?” she groans, burying her face in her hands.

“what, that you were getting off to a knock off version of me?” you question, taking a step forward to stand in front of her.

she whines from behind her hands, voice muffled, “god, please just—”

she can’t finish her thought before you drop to your knees in front of her. the small ‘thump’ coming from your knees meeting her hardwood floor. lottie removes her hands from her face, looking down at you with a puzzled expression.

“what are you doing?” her throat bobs as she swallows thickly.

“giving you the real thing.” you say, holding her gaze upwards as your hand moved to remove the pillow on her lap.

she made no action to stop you, so you continued, her face of disbelief trained on you as you tossed the pillow away.

and not to your surprise, she was still painfully hard. her impressive dick standing stiff against her, flush with frustration, leaking pre-cum. the view of her expression and dick made you flush with warmth, knowing one thing—you had to make her feel good now.

you took her heavy dick in your hand cautiously, watching her for any retaliation. her breath hitches as you gave her a slow stroke, her hand gripping her sheets. you smile gently at her reaction, leaning in more, dragging your tongue along her entire length.

“oh,” her mouth falls open, eyes shutting, hips bucking slightly.

urged on by her soft moans you slowly started to take her in your mouth.

“wait, wait—” she starts but quickly shuts up when you take her entirely in your mouth, one of her hands going to tangle in your hair. her head falls back at the sensation, “oh fuck…” she hisses in pleasure.

you gripped her thighs, grounding yourself as you let her in your mouth, feeling her in your throat. you moved your head slowly, her hand tightening in your hair, guiding you gently. her chest heaved as you took her deeper, her ragged breaths and soft grunts music to your ears.

“s-so good,” she whimpered, your thighs clenching in response.

the more worked up she got the more she fucked into your mouth, meeting your own movements. you choked on her slightly, tears welling but not stopping your movements. you made sure to lock onto her gaze, making lottie impossibly harder. it was the hottest thing shes ever seen, you on your knees in front of her, taking her so well and gagging on her dick.

“mmm. my god.” she mewled, her thrusts getting more desperate, feeling her dick hit the back of your throat. your mouth far too warm and inviting. her orgasm building each moment.

she pulled back for a moment, letting you breathe before pushing back in, growing more needy. taking everything you’re giving her. her hand tightened in your hair as your mouth got more sloppy, the sounds of you sucking her off and her moans filling her room.

“gonna…gonna cum,” she grunts, biting her lip hard.

her words make you work her harder, wanting to push her over the edge. needing to. you moaned against her dick at the mere thought, sending lottie into pure bliss.

she thrusted one last—hard—time, before holding you there as she weakly cried out, shooting a load into your mouth. she came hard, filling your mouth as you struggled to swallow it all. a strain of moans, your name, weakly fell from her lips repeatedly. her dick twitching after she emptied herself.

you finally pull her out of your mouth, panting softly from the lack of proper air flow, lazily resting your cheek against her thigh. lottie looked utterly blissed out above you, chest heaving as she caught her breath, a lazy smile on her face when she looked back down at you. her heavy lidded brown eyes soften at your state, you pressed against her thigh still catching your breath, a mix of your own saliva and her arousal on your mouth.

“shit,” she huffed, running a run through her damp hair which clung to her forehead. “that was—that was…” she begins, her other hand going to cup your cheek.

“amazing?” you finish her sentence, a playful smile on your warm face.

she gently guides you up to your feet, pulling you down towards her, skin aflame with heat. “yeah,” she nods, gently wiping off your face, “thats the word i’d use.”

and suddenly shes kissing you, softly but deeply. something you both should’ve done awhile ago. you melt against her chest, pulling her in by the back of her neck. she groans gently, tasting herself on your tongue. you part just enough to whisper against her lips.

“better than magazine girl?” you tease, making lottie flush again, knowing you’re not going to forget that anytime soon.

“fuck you.” she laughs breathlessly, voice hoarse.

“you promise?”

[tiredandsapphic]

꩜ ON HER KNEES

pairing ꩜ lottie matthews x femreader

summary ꩜ where lottie takes her gf on one of her family’s over the top vacations. where the poor girl can’t seem to take her hands off you either.

an ꩜ please ignore my little knowledge of italy, nsfw

if there’s one thing that the matthew’s have mastered, it would be how to plan an over the top vacation. in which they claimed were just pocket money. gratefully, they always invited you—well more through lottie—“you can bring…your friend, if you must.” and who were you to turn that down?

now you find yourself in a stupidly luxurious villa they just happen to own along the amalfi coast, italy. you’re a little out of place, in another country, with lottie—thank god for lottie.

although, even she has her limits. between the silent judgement and backhanded compliments from her family, the poor girl was at her limit. in a moment of peace, lottie pulled you into the bathroom of the room you shared. perks of being ‘close friends’ to her parents knowledge.

the bathroom itself has to be bigger than your room at home. marble floors, gold accents, some fancy clawfoot tub that definitely has not been used. the windows are open, welcoming a soft salty breeze, along with the polite chatter of her family downstairs—clinking glasses and ocean air whisking through sheer curtains. it’s warm, too warm, or maybe thats just lottie.

her grip on your wrist is firm, guiding you thoroughly. she presses you up against the cool marble counter.

“i seriously might go crazy. they're driving me insane.” she grumbles, a crease in her brow.

you give her a soft empathetic frown. lottie hiding her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“you’re the only good thing here.” she whispers against your skin before leaning back to look you in the face.

a soft breathless laugh leaves you, reaching up and cupping her face. “and the food.” you tease.

she laughs in response, airy compared to her earlier tension. “and the food.” she nods.

before you can utter anything more she closes the gap, pressing her lips to yours with burning urgency. you gasp softly before melting into the intensity, hands falling to grasp her shirt. she lodges herself against you, pushing you further against the counter.

after a short moment you part briefly. lottie in front of you, breathing heavy. mix of lingering frustration and something new. want. your lipstick lingering on her lips, her silk button-down halfway open. her hands firmly on your hips, keeping you in place. it’s not like you were willing to slip away anyways.

your dress—she so generously bought—is hiked up, thanks to her thigh pressed between yours. she trails warm and messy kisses along your jaw, making your fingers tighten on her shirt.

"lottie,” you breathe, biting back a moan as her fingers skim up your exposed thighs.

“mhm?” she mumbles, distracted with her teeth grazing your neck.

“they’re literally downstairs.” you half whine.

she lifts her head just enough to look at you. her eyes are flushed, dark, and nearly begging. she looks starving.

“you really think i care?” she hums, not an ounce of worry in her tone.

“your mom already thinks im corrupting you.” you laugh, giving her an unsure look.

“baby,” she drags her long and slender fingers further up your thighs, “you are.”

your breath catches. her nails dig into your waist and you instinctively pull her closer, lips brushing hers.

“you’re gonna get us caught.” you swallow, face warm.

“then be quiet,” she grins, mouth ghosting yours, “or don’t.”

you weren’t going to deny a starving girl, lottie clearly needs this—hell so do you. so just like that, she drops to her knees in front of you. her hands are hot on your thighs, dragging your shamefully wet panties down your legs.

she wastes no time with you, her mouth going straight to your dripping cunt. you tilt your head back, biting your lip to keep from making obscene sounds. you thread a hand through her dark hair, something to ground yourself. “oh fuck.” you whimper.

she eats you out like a starved woman, not shy, not sweet. it’s hungry, needy. like shes punishing you and worshipping you at the same time. her tongue works your throbbing clit in perfect motion, challenging you to keep quiet.

“can’t—god, i can’t.” you choke out.

“yes you can. i know you can.” she nearly growls, giving your thigh a squeeze.

your free hand clutches the counter. the cool marble bites into your spine. shes got your thigh over her shoulder, her hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. you can’t help but chase her mouth, rolling your hips slightly, desperately. sounds of her family still rising through the breeze.

and every time you make a sound and grip her hair a little tighter she moans against you, sending delicious vibrations.

she’s ruthless when she feels your thighs tighten around her head, both of you too far lost to stop. your moans grow louder as you get closer. and lottie just works harder.

you come with your hand over your mouth, and her name choked on your tongue. she doesn’t stop, she helps ride out your orgasm, lapping up everything you’re giving her.

you collapse back against the sink, breathless and dazed. she finally stands up like she hasn’t just made you see stars. she looks so proud and 10 times less tense, blissed out on your high. her lips and chin glistening with your arousal.

she kisses you slow and deep, tasting yourself on her tongue.

“you’re impossible,” you whisper, dizzy, wiping her face with your thumb.

“you love me for it.” she smiles, turning to kiss the tip of your thumb.

“yeah,” you breathe, “i really, really do.”

and yeah—maybe you’re a bit out of place—but with lottie, anywhere is bliss.

[tiredandsapphic]

this is all i could ever want in life, right here

YELLOWJACKETS W/ VERY FEM READER!

★,｡･:*:･ﾟ Shauna Shipman. .

- You’re all bubble, beauty and sparkle and honestly at first she found that kind of annoying. Maybe even saw you as weak—like, you’re so girly and pretty you should’ve been in cheer or something other than the soccer team (her unjustified dislike towards you was, actually, probably just internalised homophobia and hating you for giving her all of these feelings)

- However, once the plane crashes and you’re all stranded. You truly show that you’re more than just this pretty princess who really reminds her of bubbles from the Powerpuff girls (everyone else on the team already knew you were more but she never allowed herself to dwell—subconsciously trying to prevent any of the feelings from getting worse) but no. You’re amazing out there. You’re very resourceful, you’re efficient. And sure, you always do make sure your hair is all silky and brushed in the mornings: you even make fucking perfume from the flowers once yours runs out.. but these are things she’s (regrettably) coming to really, really adore about you. Fuck.

- Once you two actually get together, it’s done. She’s gone for you. Like, pathetically bad. She indulges all of your whims, no question - she’ll trek out into the wilderness in the pitch black and freezing cold if you wanted a specific flower to make a new perfume. She made you flower crowns in replacement when you lost your one bow that survived the plane crash and were upset about it. Especially later seasons Shauna: as time goes on in the wilderness, she’s get so possessive over you. Unhealthily so. She literally doesn’t care about anyone else expect you and will do anything to keep you alive and happy. Sometimes she’ll give you a bit more food than one of the other girls (cough Mari) without anyone noticing, because hey. She wants you alive. Who gives a fuck about them?

★,｡･:*:･ﾟ Natalie Scatorccio. .

- She honestly thinks you’re cute as fuck, not that she would ever say that. You’re so completely her polar opposite but she actually admires that about you. Again, not that this pussy would say anything to you. She likes your vibe more than she’s comfortable with: she likes your bows and your lace and all the pretty pastels you wear like necessity. Sometimes, in quiet private movements she will never ever admit to, she imagines taking that bow out of your hair and watching the pretty locks tumble, running her hands through them. She imagines kissing off that sparkly lip gloss and having it smeared all over her own lips as well.

- The plane crash happening only solidifies that uncomfortable squirmy stomach feeling you give her. You’re so on it. Not that she thought you’d cry and bitch and let everyone else do all the work but still, seeing you. In your torn pretty pink shirt and your mudded jeans, gash on your soft cheek, stomping around the wreck and bandaging people up with whatever supplies you had—comforting people, sorting through all the luggage and making plans. Shit. She feels weirdly safe around you, which she never feels around anyone mind you. (And seeing an absolute babe of a femme taking charge isn’t something she doesn’t not enjoy)

- Regardless if you’re together or not, she doesn’t want anyone to dim your sparkle. No one says anything bad about you really—but if anyone did, she’d be there. Defending you like it’s what’s keeping her alive. Like there’s no fucking question. Your bubbly soft nature is something she lives for and she’ll do everything in her power to keep it thriving, no matter how many friendships she has to tear down to do so. You are really the only light in her life.

- When you’re dating, Natalie is definitely the more silently devoted partner type. She doesn’t make a big deal out of her love: it’s a quiet, fierce and achingly genuine thing. Private kisses and sincere compliments instead of big gestures and spectacles. She worships you and she feels for you something she’s never felt with anyone else. Giving you forehead kisses and lingering caresses before she goes off for a hunt. Staying in ‘bed’ cuddling as long as you want. Truly listening and giving you all the time you need. Braiding your hair for you. Soft, honest consideration and care.

★,｡･:*:･ﾟ Jackie Taylor. .

- You’re sort of like ‘rival’ personalities in school, you know? With a half hearted friendship, at least on her half. Because you’re both very popular, you both play for the soccer team, you’re both gorgeous girls with hot, equally as popular boyfriends. (Ugh fuck you’re so pretty it just annoys her). She hates staring at you—lie—because she can never bloody look away—truth. It really frustrates (read: confused ‘straight’ girl flusters) her that way she always seems to be thinking about you. Like, what? She doesn’t even like you! You’re basically her competition in the school hierarchy.. and yet, you constantly plague her mind. Weird.

- Jackie feels even more weird and probably strained towards you after the plane crash because she thought you’d be in her boat. But no—you really seem to manage. You don’t bitch or moan and you certainly don’t embrace it, but you make do. Somehow. You’re steady and smart and you plan, all while looking and sounding just as much like Fluttershy from My Little Pony as you usually do. Ugh. You take to it in a way she doesn’t and you’re still you. It upsets her, and all around aggravates her. (The smatterings of butterflies that dance around her stomach as she watches you only aggravate her more).

- Eventually, you end coming together after a blow-up. Jackie ends up having a one-sided screaming match with you; she’s just so tired, scared and frustrated with everyone and you’re just so not and you always seem to be everything that she just can’t be. So blows up. And well.. it ends differently than she thought it would: you’re kind. You talk her down with a soft voice and gentle reasoning and by the end of it, she’s in your arms and sobbing into your chest. From then on, you grow closer as she realises you’re actually.. so not what she thought. You’re the only one that makes her feel heard and sane and honestly comfortable, these days. She takes to you very quickly from there—and as your relationship progresses, you honestly soften her as a person. She’s less biting and you help her learn how to actually help out, and deal. You make her feel like her again.

★,｡･:*:･ﾟ Lottie Matthews. .

- Pre-crash Lottie and you are best friends!! She’s pretty feminine herself and she really, really enjoys your whole aesthetic—and just you as a person. 1000% you’re the closest friendship she’s ever had!! You share everything—makeup, clothes, books, tips on how to get yourself off!! You know, casual best friend things ha. Really, you’re best friend goals: she was even kind enough to suggest you learn how to kiss together, by practicing on one another. Sleepovers are filled with makeout sessions—but hey, you’re just practicing! (The only time it was ever really practicing was when you were both 13 and it was for the first time. You were each other’s true gay awakenings). Sometimes she’ll model for you in lingerie that she brought, pretending that she brought it with a guy in mind when really it was for you—this usually ends in aggressive making out and groping.

- Pre-crash Lottie is playfully possessive more than anything, even if you do sometimes catch the genuine clenching of her jaw, but after the crash… girl. This bitch is on you like a barnacle. She is so possessive and protective over you. Like you’re just her beautiful little princess fairy she wants to hold close and protect. Always sitting by your side around the fire, hand rubbing a bit too far up your thigh. Setting up on the cabin floor right next to you—like, I’m talking barely two inches of space. Sneaking kisses in the night when everyone else is asleep and she rolls all the way over. Obviously, she’ll never be overbearing (oh!)—she’s just incredibly devoted to your health and safety. You’re, also, the only person who makes her feel safe and thus she’s more inclined to seek your presence.

- Once the wilderness starts effecting her and she begins having her visions again.. well. She only seems to cling tighter to you, both metaphorically and literally. You’re her haven, her soft safety net in pretty pastels. You ground her in a way nothing else ever has. Just sitting in your arms, head tucked into your neck and eyes closed—allowing all thoughts of anything other to dissolve is all she needs. Muttering gentle worries and nonsensical mumbles into the sweet skin of your throat. Confiding in you. Something in her always feels right when she’s with you—like yes, this is where I should be. A sort of truth that reverberates through her weary bones. You’re right. This is right.

- Lottie who’s fully affected by the wilderness at this point is wholeheartedly convinced you are some sort of deity. She is in love with you, just as the wilderness is in love with you. If you’re officially ‘dating’—she takes it more like marriage, honestly. This is a certain forever thing to her, a fact she makes known constantly through declarations against your lips, into your hair, into your knuckles as she kisses them slowly. Savouring you. Cherishing you. She truly worships you in a way that is almost religious.

★,｡･:*:･ﾟ Van Palmer. .

- Openly flirting with you. Sometimes she’ll make it more jokey and mocking—like ‘cute bow princess’ with a little cheeky grin when she’s mentally picturing you with just your bow on. But other times she really will make it blatant—‘you looked so fucking pretty out there you’re lucky I actually managed to save all those goals, bubbles’. You’re either under the impression she’s messing around, in which case you flirt back and she, promptly, short circuits or you’re just flustered as shittttt because come on. Van is pretty bold—she doesn’t really hide the fact she obviously finds you attractive, despite being your ‘friend’. But there is a part of her that genuinely doesn’t believe she deserves you: sure, she’s confident but you’re you, you know? Beyond gorgeous, talented, a total sweetheart and funny to boot. Ultimately she just wants to see you happy, under all that flirting.

- You end up saving Van, when the crash happens. Hearing her screams and coming running back in—your perfect hair all strewn and mussed, blood along your arm, pretty pastel purple summer dress mudded and bloody too, racing towards her and using all your might to undo her belt and get her the fuck out. You are, simply put, her angel. Van couldn’t give a shit less if anyone thinks she’s being dramatic about that—and she’s dead serious: you weren’t really far off from being an angel to her anyway, but this? This just solidified it. From that point on, she feels closer to you. More than she ever has with anyone ever, really. Making a point to accompany you… everywhere. You need a piss? She’ll escort you and find the prettiest bush she can. You’re going down to the lake? Funny! So was she.

- Her angel. Her pretty fucking angel. Is even bolder and more open with her intentions now, but with an extra aching softness. She really is the gay stereotype of a yearner. You mean more than you will ever known to her, and she can’t tell you enough how it really is not just your looks. It’s your everything—the way you make her feel so light and alive. So free and content in a way she’s never felt before. So full of love and genuine joy: she doesn’t have to fake anything with you or for you. She can just be.

- Van was already practically crawling on her knees after you with the most obnoxious heart eyes before you were together but you when you actually get together? It’s seriously ridiculous times tenfold. The littlest touches from you make her shiver. Her pupils dilate just admiring a strand of your hair. Her whole goal for her days is to make you giggle and smile. And now she can openly show affection? She literally will not stop. Picking you up around your waist and spinning you randomly until you’re in fits of laughter. A hand always on your back or in your hair. Cuddled so closely you’re basically one, her head nuzzled into your chest, warm content breaths against your skin—no place she’d rather be. She’s anything you want her to be: your bodyguard, your puppet. She’s so gone she even lets you test out the ‘makeup’ you’d tried to make from berries, etc, on her—just leans into your touch on her cheek and closes her eyes with a dopey grin. Whipped.

★,｡･:*:･ﾟ Taissa Turner. .

- Tai is more in Shauna’s boat. Without knowing you, she judges you. Sees the delicate sparkly jewellery, the shiny hair, the perfectly done makeup, smells the warm perfume that makes her stomach tingle and thinks superficial. Your bright smiles and your genuine giggles make her a mix of secretly flustered and slightly annoyed—come on, there is no way you can be that much of a sweetheart. Ever skeptical, she thinks you’re just.. fake, really. However. At one practice, in which Tai ends up getting injured—nothing serious at all, but even slight mistakes embarrass and frustrate her like no other. She played it off and you were the only one to notice—you didn’t make a big deal out of it, you simply flounced over looking all perfect, discreetly handed her a bandage and her water bottle, asking a quiet sincere ‘are you okay?’. She thought differently of you from that day. Not noticeably. Not really. But to her it was noticeable. Her eyes lingered on you, and sometimes when you sprayed your perfume near her—she breathed in a little deeper, wanting to catch it. Seeing your smiles and knowing you mean them makes her heart beat with emotions she’d rather not name.

- When the crash happens, Tai panics. In a way that both surprises her and doesn’t, pumped on adrenaline and gut wrenching fear. Where are you? That is what’s racing through her head. When she finds you—soft locks of hair fallen from your bun, baby blue dress half torn and bleeding from your leg, looking so devastatingly perfect and alive—she hugs you. Engulfs you, really, would be the right term—in a flurry of emotion and limbs, launches herself at you. From then on, she knows in herself what she feels for you. Every day after—she keeps her eye on you, discreetly (mostly). Making sure you’re there, breathing. It’s all she needs at the moment, all she feels is really getting her through. Speaking with you, hearing your voice, laughing with you—quietly catering to you, it becomes her escape. The only times she feels normal. Feels happy.

- It’s very noticeable to the others that Tai is much softer to you than she is with them. Her face always does this little melting thing subconsciously when she looks at you—I mean, she lets you dress her up for fun, Christ sake! They never would’ve expected Tai of all people to fall for your bubblegum sweetened feminine self, but alas. You’re her weakness. She’s headstrong, stubborn—but you make her.. ease, a bit. You relax her enough for reason. Gentle hands running over her skin as you mumble into her ear softly, calming her. You’re a miracle worker.

[tiredandsapphic]

Hcs about teen lottie being amazing with her words. In the show she was always saying “talk to me”, so she’d be so good with her gf whenever she’s feeling upset or vulnerable.

On the nsfw side everyone always says she definitely talks you through it and I agree 100%. She knows your body so well, but would still say “talk to me” and ask what you need. Her praise would go crazy too.

you can find it here!!! thxs for the req!

took too long…i’ve been plagued with an awful illness the past week (a cold) sorry for the delay :p

[tiredandsapphic]

꩜ TALK TO ME

pairing ꩜ lottie matthews x femreader

summary ꩜ lottie being the best gf with the best communication skills

an ꩜ mostly fluff+slight nsfw

lottie is the best girlfriend ever. and it’s not because she looks at you after every goal she scores—or how she spends every last cent the girl has on you. it’s her undeniable ability to read you like a book. she knows you better than you know yourself at most points.

shes not just your pretty, athletic, tall stupidly rich gf, shes the actually emotionally intelligent pretty, athletic, tall stupidly rich girl who listens to you like it’s a religion.

you cannot hide anything from her! whether it be a surprise or maybe you got a shitty grade on a test and you state that you’re fine? no lottie sees through that. she reads your micro expressions like a second language. that small twitch in your right eyebrow? means something ticked you off. when you narrow your eyes just slightly? she knows you need some sort of reassurance. the girl even notices how your pupils dilate every compliment she throws you.

plus who needs a therapist when you have lottie. she knows how to handle any of your emotions, even the most embarrassing or vulnerable.

most times you’re sitting in her bedroom, curled on the edge of her bed, pretending you’re not teetering on the edge of crying. you’re doing that usual thing—shrinking, making shallow jokes with a weak laugh that only lottie sees through. and of course, you mutter something self deprecating, something about how much of a mess you are or not being good enough. halfway through your deflection lottie gently cuts in.

“don’t talk about someone i love like that.” and shes so steady with her words.

you blink, and shes already moving closer, cupping your face in her hands, like shes trying to lift off the weight you’re carrying.

“i know that you think hiding makes you easier to love. but it really doesn’t. i love you for you, not because you’re perfect, but because you’re you. even when you’re messy. especially when you’re messy.” her voice doesn’t tremble, not once.

you try to laugh it off—as always—but she won’t let you. she guides your face so your eyes meet hers again. her tone always drops lower, softer.

“you don’t scare me or overwhelm me. i’ve basically seen everything, you idiot. and im still here.”

you break a little. but thats okay, because lottie’s there to pull you into her.

speaking of which—sometimes lottie doesn’t need you to verbally tell her you’re upset. she doesn’t push. she simply opens her arms and tilts her head. then you’re crashing into her chest like a wave and she will hold you through anything. she smells like lavender and safety.

lottie’s voice does things to you…mostly because she knows exactly how to weaponize it in the best way. the lottie agenda is her having to praise you and be vocal in bed. she’ll whisper praise in your like shes guiding meditation—except it’s about how good you are taking her fingers.

lottie knows your body like a map shes religiously memorized, but that won’t stop her from asking. “tell me where you want me.” or “guide my hand, baby, show me.”

her dirty talk is filth but wrapped in softness. “you’re shaking. from just my voice? thats sweet.” shes so aware of the effect she has on you, and she loves it. she gets so worked up from just the sweet noises and gasps you make, and a big fan of a small hair tug when she knows she’s making you feel good.

talks you through everything, makes you use your words, not teasing but encouraging. and the aftercare? to die for, the communication doesn’t end there. she makes sure to always ask if you’re okay while you’re catching your breath. holds you close to kiss your temple and talk so softly— “you did so good, like you’re made for me.”

[tiredandsapphic]

wait that spidey lottie fic was so fun to read 😭 im a fan now

thank u thank u, ughhh it’s low-key so fun to write too :p

[tiredandsapphic]

in like the worst writers block/creativity drought— i just wanna write for lottie (teen or adult) ugh!!!

feel free to send reqs… maybe it’ll get my brain working again 😋

[tiredandsapphic]

hi hi! just wanted to say that i love your spidey!reader x lottie. it’s so cuteeee 😭

— 🦌

awee thank uuu 🦌 !! support means everything :))