» lottie matthews x fem!reader.
during a heatwave, you get trapped in an elevator with your neighbor/ex-girlfriend → based on this request.
— warnings: no-crash/modern au. possibly ooc ex girlfriend!lottie. nsfw content. mdni. semi-public sex. vaginal fingering (reader!receiving).
of course, out of all the people you could possibly be stuck in this situation with, it’s lottie. who else, honestly, if not charlotte fucking matthews, who you’d had the glorious idea of hooking up with a while back, despite you being neighbors, as well as your very strict rule not to hook up (or have one night stands) with anyone you could still run into later on. now here you fucking are, stuck between the fourth & the fifth floor of the apartment building, so close, yet so far from home, and if those aren’t the consequences of your own actions….
as if that’s not bad enough already, it has to happen during a heatwave. you’d already been dreading the elevator, sometimes opting for the stairs instead, simply because the walking & reaching your floor all sweaty was still better than willingly stepping inside that heated metal box. had you known lottie would be taking the elevator too, you would’ve gladly subjected her to getting stuck in it alone. instead (and during the one time you actually decide to take it in this weather), she had to wait until the very last moment before slipping between the already closing doors, leaving you no other choice but to stay in there with her for what, at least you assumed, would only be a short ride up.
now, what was supposed to take a few seconds has already turned into minutes, which might not seem like a lot, but the cramped space is heating up quickly and, besides, you were counting on it being over by now. whilst you’ve been told that help is on the way, it has yet to actually show up and, at this rate, you’re starting to wonder if every single person in the fucking city decided to get stuck in an elevator today just to delay your rescue.
having made peace with not getting out any time soon, you lean against one side of the elevator, leaving lottie the other to herself. you’d considered sitting, but then she remained standing, and you did not want to sit with lottie practically towering above you, so standing up it is. she’s in fucking heels, too, you note as your eyes drift over her, so thank god you chose to stay on your feet. overall, lottie looks weirdly formal, dressed in a blouse, slacks and said heels, whereas your outfit consists of shorts & a tank top, and you have to physically hold back from commenting on that, because, out of the two of you, she’s definitely wearing the worse clothes to be in this situation.
awkwardly shifting on your feet, you glance around the room once more. there’s still nothing new to look at, the same four metal walls as five fucking minutes ago, the only difference being the gradually rising temperature, and your shoulders drop as you sigh in defeat.
“can you not?” lottie asks suddenly, making your eyes snap from her clothes up to her face, and, okay, maybe you’d ended up staring at her again, but, in your defense, there isn’t a whole lot else to look at in here.
“jeez, sorry,” you mutter, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.
“no, i’m sorry,” lottie sighs, throwing you off. admitting she’s in the wrong is not something she ever liked doing during your short time sleeping together. “i shouldn’t…” she pinches the collar of her blouse and fans it back & forth in an attempt to create some fresh air. “sorry.”
still not sure whether or not you can trust her, you eye her sideways. then again, you have nothing better to do anyway, and so you might as well make the most of it, asking: “how have you…been?”
“seriously?” equally as wary, lottie glances up.
“why not?” you shrug. “i don’t think we’re getting out of here any time soon, so…”
at that, she huffs, but relents, if only to answer rather curtly: “i’ve been…fine.”
“right.” when lottie doesn’t bother asking how you’ve been in return, apparently content without any smalltalk, you take it upon yourself to keep the conversation going. “and the cat? how’s the cat?”
wilder, such a pretentious name, for a pretentious lottie with her pretentious fucking cat. to be fair, the cat is actually really cute and had given you an ego boost the first time you went to lottie’s apartment, and she warned you that wilder wasn’t good with strangers, only for him to climb into your lap, purring straight away.
just like that, your pathetic attempt at making conversation dies again. you’d forgotten how perfectly capable lottie is of doing nothing (like she’d done nothing when you’d asked her what all the great sex you were having meant, when you’d told her you were gonna need a little more initiative from her, only for lottie to do just that: fucking nothing), standing around without seeming to feel even the tiniest bit awkward. you, on the other hand….
“fuck, it’s hot, isn’t it?” and what a way to state the obvious that is!
still, it’s better than all her capital n Nothing, even though lottie gives you a look in response. caught under her gaze, you shift again, rocking on your heels when, suddenly, there’s a loud clank that echoes through the elevator shaft above. you & lottie snap your heads back in unison, listening out for any other sounds, but whatever made that noise, it is not the help you’d been hoping for.
at least the cables seem to be doing their thing still, and your cabine isn’t plummeting down. “still stuck,” you offer eventually, feeling stupid the second that leaves your mouth.
lottie closes her eyes. “is anyone even coming?”
“nobody is gonna let us die in a fucking elevator, lot,” you reply, because only the concept of what she’s verbalizing here has a dreadful knot forming in the pit of your stomach. you’re so insistent you don’t even notice the nickname when it slips out, yet if lottie catches it, she’s become a nicer person, not calling you out on it.
the real problem with being stuck in an elevator with your ex-hookup-slash-neighbor-slash-person-you-most-definitely-did-not-have-feelings-for-while-you-were-sleeping-together, you’re starting to understand, is that there simply is not enough to look at before your eyes inevitably find her again. and lottie…well!! there’s a reason why you broke your most important principle of not getting involved with somebody like that, and her looks certainly played into that in the early days.
another two minutes pass, and the temperature continues to climb: sweat has gathered in every fold & crease of your body by now, dampening your armpits and quite literally trickling down your spine. at least you’re not alone with that: lottie lets her head fall back with a groan, muttering: “jesus christ, why is it getting hotter?”
“giant metal box?” you offer unhelpfully, rapping your knuckles against the wall behind you.
she rolls her eyes. “i was being sarcastic.”
you wonder when you last spent this much time in the same room as her, hell, when you last spoke to her at all, beyond very limited exchanges in the stairwell. “were you?”
lottie shoots you a glare, though considerably less venomous than the last, and if it’s not you who momentarily forces her into friendly compliance, it’s this scorching heat. “why are you wearing that, anyway?”
looking down at herself, lottie asks: “what’s wrong with my outfit?”
“you’re asking me what’s wrong with a blouse and slacks in this heat, lot-” this time around, you can stop yourself. “lottie?”
“i had a meeting,” she says, giving you a skeptical once over in return. “some of us have jobs that require some more…professionalism.”
and that would be a dig at you, then, but it’s a little difficult to take seriously given that you’re not the one with sweat running down your temples at lottie’s level, and is it bad that the sight takes you right back to the many nights spent in one of your apartments? both your bodies slick with sweat, chests rising & falling as she kissed you until your lips were swollen, her hand wandering between your-
“fuck…” lottie groans as she fans herself with one hand. she isn’t only sweaty from the heat, either; her cheeks have gone all pink, the flush spreading from her face, down her neck, where it disappears into the collar of her blouse, and just as you’re starting to wonder how much farther below the fabric it must reach, she suddenly undoes the top button. you force your gaze away, then, jerking your head toward the opposite wall. with subtlety not being your top priority, there, it is no surprise lottie notices the sudden movement and arches a brow at you. “it’s hot.”
“i- i didn’t say anything.”
popping another button, lottie huffs, and you avert your gaze again as she curses, still fanning the front of her blouse. you swear by now there are so many buttons undone you see flashes of black lace each time it falls open. “where are they?” she sighs again. “didn’t they say someone was coming?”
eyes still glued to the floor, you shrug, selfaware enough to know how stupid you must look to her, the sheen of sweat covering your face aside. “what are you looking like that for?” lottie asks bemusedly, a bead of sweat slipping down the slope of her neck as you dare glance at her, and you are most definitely not imagining yourself leaning in, nor are you thinking of the salty taste of it in your mouth if you were to drag your tongue up her skin now.
“n-nothing.” you stammer, shifting again and getting a feel of how slick your arms have gotten from being crossed over your chest.
“okay,” lottie pushes herself off the wall, then. she isn’t outright in your space yet, but given the size of the room you’re trapped in, it won’t take many such steps for her to be. as if reading your mind, earlier, she says: “this is probably the longest we’ve talked since…god, how long has it been?”
“i don’t-“ you start, about to tell her you don’t remember (although that would be a blatant lie, but what’s the use in telling your ex that you’d been counting the days since?), when lottie beats you to it, whispering: “i missed talking to you,” at the same time as she pops another button. now, she no longer has to fan herself for you to see the lacy fabric of her bra.
“l-lot…” she doesn’t want an answer from you, you realize, she just wants…what, exactly, is it that she wants? lottie takes another step forward, and now you can quite literally feel the heat that radiates off her body, and despite how sweaty you both are, you’re forced to grapple with the fact that you want it even closer still, getting rid of any distance left between you. “we really shouldn’t, it’s not…” another step, and you’re chest to chest, with lottie’s blouse hanging open between you. in her stupid heels, she really does tower, cocking her head as she looks down at you.
you’ll blame the heat, that’s what you will later remember thinking in this moment. you’ll simply just blame the heat for what you are about to do. it could very well be true, because for all the time you spent avoiding one another around the building, giving in to a pull that has never truly left comes easy. lottie’s gaze drops to your mouth for a split second, where the well maintained self-control she prides herself on finally cracks. and that, among other things (among each button of her blouse popped, each inch of skin revealed in the process), is what finally has you surging forward, into lottie’s waiting arms. one touch of her mouth to yours, and you’re trembling with want, as the length of her body presses you back against the warm metal wall.
you know damn well you shouldn’t. there’s a reason for all that distance you put between the two of you. nonetheless, you’re pushing yourself closer, shamelessly letting all those sounds you would normally try to suppress, so as not to seem overly eager, slip from your lips. lottie has heard them before, anyway, and learned to coax them out of you herself, so what’s left for you to hide? besides, she hasn’t changed much, either, still kissing like a woman starved, only slightly more slick, this time, with the sweat that had formed on both your faces.
“lot…” you sigh against her mouth, barely managing, with how ravenous she’s kissing you. “lottie..”
cupping your cheeks, lottie draws you back in without another word, nearly sending you tripping over your own feet as you stagger closer, as close as you possibly can, and then pushing some more. for the first time in weeks, you forget about the heat altogether, and, fucking christ, if you’d known all it would take to put an end to the suffering you’d endured in this weather would be to make out with lottie matthews….
one hand falls to your waist, urging you against her while the other remains on your face, but whatever lottie is doing with her hands becomes hard to keep track of, anyway, when there’s also her tongue, suddenly slipping past your lips and into your mouth. in the frantic heat of the moment, your own hands reach for the unbuttoned collar of lottie’s blouse, pleased that she is either too distracted kissing you to care or that (more simple yet no less surprising), she’ll just let you. not particularly interested in finding out which of the two it is, you hastily undo the final few buttons, keeping lottie occupied by sucking on her tongue, until the fabric parts and your hands land on bare skin.
you have to pull back then; you simply have to, to get a look at lottie’s exposed upper body. she has not changed, and your memory has served you well during those many desperate nights you spent fantasizing about her, but nothing will ever compare to the real deal: under her blouse, lottie is wearing a lacy, black bra, a shiny layer of sweat glistening on her sternum.
any longer, and she would probably be telling you that it’s gross, and that she needs to take a shower, so before it can come down to that, you’re practically burying your face in her cleavage. it is lottie’s turn to stumble back, caught off guard, the elevator wall keeping her upright as you cover what of her breasts is spilling over the bra cups in kisses. you feel lottie’s fingers sink into your hair, the chest below your mouth rising & falling rapidly when you suck a mark into the soft skin.
grinning, you realize that she doesn’t call you out or even warn you for shamelessly leaving so many hickeys & little lovebites. nobody there to care for the marks on lottie’s tits, then, and it should not come as such a relief, yet you are about to yank down the lace in your excitement, knowing how much she liked it when you played with her nipples, when the hand in your hair yanks you back.
you hadn’t known how spit slick your lips had gotten until you look up at lottie, who, without uttering a single word, only decisively shakes her head once. you’re not given the chance to ask what that’s supposed to mean before she grabs you by the collar and, with the strength you always knew she had in her, spins you around so that you’re the one up against a wall once more. under different circumstances, you might’ve put up a fight, wanting to touch lottie, too, but it’s too hot and, anyway, how much time have you spent ever since things between you ended, dreaming about her touch?
plus, at least you can still see her chest when lottie drops her hand down to the waistband of your shorts, hurriedly unbuttoning them before letting gravity take care of the rest. the denim falls from your hips & pools at your feet, leaving you in only your underwear. from there, lottie works her way around it with ease. if you could, you would ask her to just take off all your clothes, have you naked right then & there, but even through the haze of heat and, frankly, horniness, you’re still aware enough of your surroundings to understand that that would be too much of a risk. only letting her fuck you here already is, but then lottie shoves the crotch of your panties aside, and her fingers are gliding through your folds, and everything else just sort of stops.
“fuck-” you can’t help but gasp, lottie’s digits forming a v-shape and parting you open, “fuck, lot, that’s-“
humming, she drags them back & forth, slicked up in your arousal by the time lottie dips then towards your entrance to gather more of your wetness there and bring it up to your clit. it’s pulsing under her fingertips, even more so when she starts circling it slowly. pleasure shoots up your spine, the heat intensifying as the walls of your cunt clamp down around nothing, desperate for more. “you’re so wet…” lottie rasps.
what did you fucking expect, you almost say, but the words only make it out in a strangled moan that rings through the elevator. smiling, lottie applies pressure to your clit until your knees buckle, nails digging into her back in a desperate attempt to hold yourself upright, because you will not be caught falling to your knees from this tiny bit of stimulation.
“yeah…” lottie nods and repeats the motion, making the whole length of your pussy throb against the heel of her hand. a few more of those maddening circles around your swelling clit, then her fingers finally begin to glide a little lower, the pad of her thumb replacing her index & middle finger to keep rubbing you.
your next moan is silenced thanks to lottie, who presses her mouth back to yours, swallowing the sounds you make once she actually starts probing your sloppy entrance. your hips jump forward of their own accord, pressing yourself closer as you groan into her mouth. everything between your legs is slick, both with sweat and your wetness, and if she doesn’t properly fuck you soon, you are convinced that you’re going to pass out.
another flare of heat in your abdomen, then, when lottie’s fingers move forward, followed by the brief resistance of that first stretch, which she easily pushes through. your cunt squelches obscenely, and no matter how good her kisses feel, you cannot help but pull back to look down between your bodies at least for a little while, where lottie’s knuckles bulge against the fabric of your underwear. sensing that you’ve broken eye contact, she whispers: “look at me,” the sound of her voice alone forcing you into submission.
lottie’s expression, despite her not being on the receiving end of any stimulation right now, mirrors your own: her mouth hangs open, her lashes flutter, just like yours, and even a moan tears from her throat when her fingers thrust into you for the first time. simultaneously, her thumb grinds against your clit, smiling at your hips jerking forward again. you wonder if lottie can feel how wildly your pussy is fluttering around those two fingers, desperately wanting to suck her in deeper as she begins setting a nice pace, just how she knows you like it, and fuck, she remembers, doesn’t she?
the digits curl against your g-spot, ragged breaths falling from her lips in time with lottie’s thrusts, all while her thumb continues to circle your clit, and it won’t actually be the heat that kills you; it’ll be getting fingered to death by lottie matthews and how insanely good it feels.
“oh, fuck, lottie, fuck!” you hear yourself crying out, slick dripping down your thighs, where the arousal is refreshingly cool in the hot, open air. lottie, meanwhile, is moaning in unison with you, like she can actually get pleasure out of feeling your pussy squeezing down on her fingers, and chances are you’re being much too loud. you don’t know how far you are from the next floor, and, more importantly, how soundproof these walls are, but does that really matter when lottie keeps thrumming her fingers against your g-spot like that, forcing you towards the edge within mere minutes?
her exhales come out hot to the side of your neck, and you hadn’t even noticed that she’d leaned in like that, mouthing at your pulse point while her knuckles bulge against your entrance. her fingertips hook into that spot at the front wall of your cunt, making you gush, most of the clear fluids getting caught in the palm of lottie’s hand, and it dawns on you suddenly that you’re going to cum. “lottie, i’m gonna- keep going! please, you’re- you’re gonna-” it’s barely coherent babbling, but it gets the message across.
you’re so close you can taste the climax on your tongue, if that is even remotely possible. it has been building up since she popped the first, stupid button of her blouse, and now it’s about to wash over you, and there is nothing you can do except grind yourself into her hand and let your body do its thing, pussy spasming around lottie. it all feels so fucking good that the final warning you can get out is a lewd: “lottie i’m cumming!” before pleasure reaches its peak.
you’re distantly aware of her rasping something along the lines of: “mhm, come for me,” but even that, along with the heat, suddenly seems impossibly far away from you. clutching lottie’s shoulders, your clit twitches under her thumb while your walls squeeze her fingers tight, moans spilling from your lips as you ride it out.
familiar with your body as she is, lottie knows to keep thrusting, slower than before, but pleasurable all the same, causing more of your release to splatter over her hand. through the haze, you manage to pull her close to you, needing her mouth on yours, some evidence that this is real, although your kiss isn’t so much a kiss as you moaning against her lips. this could very well be the best, most long lasting orgasm you’ve had in months, your cunt still twitching even when lottie leans back, and you let your own head tip against the wall.
you’re not sure when it ends, or how it does, but eventually, lottie’s fingers slip out, leaving your cunt fluttering around nothing, and then out of your underwear, too, and then she’s on her knees, and for a hot moment, you actually think she’s gonna put her mouth on you, but that turns out to be wishful thinking. instead, lottie pulls your shorts back into place for you, still letting you come down at your own pace but making sure that you do so with your clothes on. help is on the way, after all.
“fuck, lottie, this was…” with that, you find your voice again, wobbly with the aftershocks of the climax. lottie, meanwhile, has begun buttoning her sweat soaked blouse again, and just in time, it turns out: before you can so much as finish that sentence, a shudder runs through the elevator, and you both brace yourselves against the nearest wall as it begins to rise.
so help has finally come, filling the space with the groan of cables as you are being lifted, though you’re not sure they could’ve picked a worse timing: you don’t get to ask lottie what any of this means, let alone what you’re gonna do about it (because, surely, getting finger fucked by an ex must have consequences), before the cabin jolts to a stop and the doors slide apart, releasing the two of you into the stairwell, where maintenance workers & a firegfighter wait.
thankfully, they don’t keep you for long. they are a bit concerned with how breathless you are as you stumble out after lottie, but upon insisting that you really are fine, and that it isn’t a medical emergency but only the heat (certainly not the mindblowing orgasm), they let you leave to return to your apartments. awkwardly enough, you still have some stairs left to climb together, walking shoulder to shoulder as you make your way up. only at lottie’s door, the two of you come to an abrupt halt, and while you sure could keep on walking up to your own front door, something forces you to stop dead in your tracks. turning to lottie, you’re relieved to find it was the right thing to do: “call me sometime, yeah?” she asks, “you still have my number.”
— a/n: wilder, get it….? wilder as in wilderness?? i’m so funny 🤣🤣 anyway, i wrote this over the heatwave, and today it’s finally been ‘cold’ enough to actually edit it!! i still kinda rushed the ending because i wanted to get it out there asap, so please don’t mind that.
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