Your best friend’s dirtbag older sister. Smokes too much weed, talks too loud, always crass and rude. You were in love with her. Her parents called it rebellion. She called it freedom. Called you “kiddo.” Primarily because you scrunched up your face and yelled when she first said it. Secondarily because you stopped being upset about it at some point.
Your first kiss is on her bed. The sun sets through the big window, painting her skin beautiful shades. You’d agreed to smoke some weed with her. Asked, really. Life was stressful and even if you couldn’t break the bars of your cage as easily as she seemed, a single night of caring less would help. She talks you through what she does, every twist of the grinder shearing away the roughness in her voice. You don’t even realize you’ve drifted closer by the time she lights the joint.
You can’t stop her once her hand is on your neck. Her lips crash into yours, a sudden surprise followed by stinging smoke. She laughs wickedly as you cough your brains out, offering you water and rubbing your back apologetically.
You should’ve known it wasn’t mutual. You’re so busy cursing yourself for getting excited, you don’t notice the genuine concern budding on her face even after your spree ends.
“Hey, kiddo, I’m sorry. I thought…I dunno, I thought it’d be funny to shotgun your first hit. You’re always staring at my lips so…I thought, ah, fuck, Nevermind.” Her hand cups your face so delicately. Big soft hands, pulling your gaze from the sheets to her eyes. Your face heats up. Thank god you can blame it on the weed, “hey, talk to me. You okay? We can totally bail and pretend this never happened.”
But that’s not what you want. You want it to have happened, you wanted to kiss her. Maybe you even thought you’d get a chance today. It’s mortifying and embarrassing for her to have done it as a joke. You can’t SAY that, she already apologized.
“Oh, no, you’re not ‘fine’. You’re trying to burn a hole in the floor with your eyes, supergirl. You think you can lie to me? Who has been covering for your asses for years, huh? I know your signs. Neither you or Nance are any good at lying. Tell me.”
It hurts. She’s right. You croak out the truth through a burning throat.
“You…didn’t want it to be a joke? What do you…oh. Oh, honey. Hey, kiddo, look at me.” Her hand corrects your line of sight again, “are you saying…you wanted to kiss me?” You’ve never heard her sound this soft before, this tender. It’s…nice. Like floating your head in the bath. Or maybe that’s the weed, “All you ever had to do was ask. I wasn’t gonna make a move on my lil sis’ bestie. Can you imagine how mad she’d be? Fuck…she’ll be mad at me for this, too.” It’s not a crash this time. A gentle, soft, intentional kiss. Drawn out, not interrupted by the acrid sting of smoke. As she pulls away, you follow, desperate for more, “Is this okay?” You nod. Everything outside the room fades away. Your shame, your embarrassment, your fear. They all melt away as she pulls you into her arms. Her hands begin to roam over your clothes, and you’re too far gone to wish you’d bothered matching this morning.
A jolt at her fingers find your nipple, drawing out a precious moan you didn’t mean to make.
“There ya go, make pretty noises like that for me, kiddo.” How are you supposed to resist that voice? The edge completely gone, the boisterous butch who cussed out men for being creepy to you currently has one hand up your shirt while the other traces patterns over your skin. Everything is warm, “Hey, kiddo.” She snaps her fingers. Brought back by the sound, you look up, “two things. One: I’m down to do this, but you have to promise me you’ll tell me to stop if it goes too far. I like you and I don’t wanna run you off. Two: do you want another hit?” You shake your head. Nothing to interfere. You want to be as present as possible for this, “Okay, more for me then.” She leans away, ember glowing briefly before she quashes it into the ashtray on her nightstand, dropping her voice as she returns to your ear,
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. You’ve always been so cute, so shy around me. It got me soaked to picture you struggling underneath me. But it seems like you won’t be struggling very much, will you?” You struggle to answer, caught between flustered and embarrassed. With a nod, you prompt her to continue, “Look, I kept it real quiet cuz i didn’t know if you even liked girls, let alone someone like me. I liked watching you get flustered when I teased you.” Memories waft up amid the sunbeams, many times she’d enter a room where you were hanging out with Nancy, always with a crass phrase like “you twerps rubbing pussies in here or what?” And while you never were, the thought hasn’t failed to cross your mind. Suddenly, your face gets hot at the realization that it was both antagonistic and exploratory. Did she want to…?
Her lips capture yours again before you can chase that thought. You melt into her touch before she lowers you to the mattress. You gaze up through half-lidded eyes as she unbuttons her shirt. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before—you’d heard the phrase “put a fucking shirt on” from everyone in the house but her at least once—but the sight makes your breath catch in your throat all the same. Radiant. That’s a good word. She just laughs and gestures, “Cmon, I’ll lead, you follow.”
You remove your top as well, a step behind her as she flings her bra aside. Any attempt to follow that is futile. Your eyes are locked on her gorgeous breasts. She doesn’t fail to notice and laughs that sweet laugh you’ve heard so much. The teasing one, the “I win” laugh. She gently guides your hands up until they rest on her bosom, “Go ahead, kiddo, feel me up. You’ve been wanting to, right?” You nod, too embarrassed to admit such a thing out loud, “Kind of a pervert move, babe, wanting to grope your best friend’s sister? God, she’d be so grossed out if you told her. Not that you’re going to, right? It can be our little secret for today.” You nod again, squeezing her breasts in your hands. They’re amazing. Round, full, soft, heavy in your hands. Really, you’re a little envious, “you having fun? Can I do yours next?” You mutter a soft plea, “what was that, kiddo? I didn’t get that.”
A single word that set everything for the night into motion, “Please.”
“Lift up.” Something in her voice shifts, hungrier than before. You comply before her arms dart around your chest, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside in a maneuver you would later recognize as extremely practiced, “Good girl. Keep your hands on my tits.” Meanwhile, hers grasp for your own, sending ripples of pleasure across your frame. Her rough thumbs graze your nipples as she massages your breasts, intense and deliberate. You lock eyes with her after yours come back from rolling into your head, and there’s a spark there you didn’t see moments prior. Something…feral. Lustful. The tension builds, upwards and upwards, until the sound of the front door slamming jars you both from the horny fog settled in the room.
“Hey, Sis? My friend is coming over so make sure you’ve got a shirt on, okay?” Nancy called through the house. Fuck. You forgot to reply to her with when you were coming over. Not only were you already here, but neither of you had a shirt on.
“She’s already here, I was just keeping her company!” She yells back, dismounting your hips to retrieve discarded clothes. Her voice falls to a whisper as she returns with your bra, “hey, I meant what I said. If you’re interested, we could pick this up another time? Maybe…get some coffee, or a lunch first?”
Warnings: Smut ofc, Gentle and rough George, Maybe Z Nation spoilers. Stressed George. Butch George. She has a tongue piercing.
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·𖥸· Definitely a titty girl! They're like stress balls! And we all know how much stress George goes through especially because of the election and making sure the talkers and humans don’t fight :(( give her some boob!
·𖥸· REALLY good with her hands. She has to know how to kill Z’s. So of-fucking-course she knows how to use her hands.
·𖥸· The ONLY reason she got the tongue piercing was for you. Laying in between your legs, rubbing the piercing on your clit god it’s such a pretty sight.
“You got this baby… so fucking pretty.”
And maybe if she’s feeling mean, she’ll edge you while she eats the slick out.
“Poor thing. You can do it. Just a bit longer.”
·𖥸· She is not the type to hurt you. Only thing she’ll do is have her hand wrapped around your neck, maybe squeezing JUST a little. She doesn’t wanna hurt her baby :( She just wants to give them pleasure
·𖥸· Call her baby or daddy. She LOVES it. Especially if you're crying for release.
·𖥸· She once again. Loves being between your thighs. Pull her hair while trying to get her away from your overstimulated cunt. Spoiler alert she won’t let you. Because the moment you pull her hair. She’ll get you to your fifth orgasm of the night. She’s hungry. Leave her alone.
·𖥸· After care is taken VERY seriously with her. Kisses. Rubbing your stomach. Praising you. All of it.
“Did so good, baby. So proud of you.”
·𖥸· She praises you. So much. Good girl, beautiful, pretty, anything you can think of. Likes to also put your first name with her last name.
·𖥸· She likes watching you get off on your own. Watching you struggle.
“Yeah, look at how pretty you are. I bet you could get those fingers deeper. You gonna cum?”
Before you can release. She stops you. Putting her head between your legs, hands kneading your boobs, as she gets her fill of cum. Maybe causing two more orgasms while she’s at it.
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Authors Note:
Hiiii thankfully you all enjoyed this! I tried looking for some stuff on her on Wattpad, tumbler, all of it and couldn’t find what I was looking for :( this is my first ever smut post so please be patient with me. I wanna thank my friend for helping me with the Headcannons! Remember to request! Check my fandoms in my pinned post! And read the rules. For now, Star out.
