not-alien-girl-v - Tumblr blog

not-alien-girl-v · 12 days

Text

someone help me add to the collection of the 1975 fics x 5sos songs because it is my niche and i NEEEEEED more of it i’m tired of doing it meself

Long Way Home (M.H)

Summary: Heading home with a very tipsy Matty, who's too cute for his own good.

Word Count: 648

Warnings: Use of alcohol

Author's note: Hope you guys like this short little imagine, and as mentioned before: Asks and requests are open! I'd be more than happy to accept them.

The air was sticking to her skin and the whole room was thumping, a low bass spread throughout and within. The noise was blending into one, the laughter of the drunken crowd, the club classics egging everyone on, the occasional shouts of a name, and the little whisper of: "There you are, love."

She turned around, focus set on the voice that had just appeared behind her. She knew exactly who the man tumbling on both of his feet was, hands gripping onto her frame in desperation.

"Matty," she sighed softly, somehow relieved to see his face again after losing him in the crowd yet also concerned, seeing the state he was in.

He hummed as her hands came to rest on his waist, an act of stability. He smiled goopily, a twinkle in his eyes as his forehead came to rest on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she spoke into his ear, to which he responded with a quick nod of his head.

"Couldn't be better, now that I found you." he mumbled into her skin, putting his whole body weight onto the girl, leading to her tumbling behind a bit.

"Ironic to hear from someone who can barely stand," she chuckled out, trying to balance herself with him leaning onto her.

"I can very much stand on my own, thank you!" he huffed out in frustration, backing away from her support and demonstrating his skills by standing still on his feet.

Ultimately, he failed. His two left feet tripping over eachother in some bizarre way, looking like he was demonstating a new dance move he had learned as he almost came crashing down to the muggy floor.

"Matty!" she gasped as she reached to put her arms around him, somehow saving him from collapsing.

He blinked at her, her arms around his waist and his gripping her shoulders. He opened his mouth to defend his antics, only to close it when she shot him a mean look.

"'M sorry," he murmured in a defeated tone.

"It's alright, honey. Really," she said, reaching up to quickly adjust his tie and move his curls out of his sight.

"You think it's time to go home yet?" she teased him slightly, loving to take the piss out of him, even more in his overly tipsy state.

"Stop it!" he cried out, embarassed that probably everyone saw his little show.

"Come on now, cutting the drinks for tonight! Don't want to carry you home on my back," she laughed out, walking through the crowd cautiously with a whole body leaning onto her side.

"Fine... only because I love you. And because Ross stole my last drink," he muttered the last part, leading to her swatting his shoulder.

"Hey!" he scowled jokingly.

"That didn't hurt, crybaby! You know you always bite me," she mocked, followed by a soft sting on her neck and a huffed laugh onto her skin.

"That was not an invite!" she gasped out at the action, his face nuzzling into her collarbone.

"You know you like it..." he breathed out, as they finally reached the exit of the humid club.

"Maybe I do," she grinned down at him, the head of curls tickling at her neck with yet another small bite following and a giggle.

"Stop messin'! Let's go now," she breathed out, calling for a cab on the curb.

"Can I atleast stay at yours tonigh? Please?" he drew out the beg, the words dripping with desperation.

"Matty, honey... We live together," she giggled at his headlessness, his cloudy state making him forget their recent move-in.

"Oh! Right!" he gasped out happily, overjoyed by the realization as a cab pulled up to the pavement, tires screeching in the quiet night.

"Let's head home, shall we!" Matty eagerly spoke as he opened the car door, losing his balance slightly.

Oh God, this was going to be a long night.

#violette.txtt

110 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 17 days

Text

some shadowplay for today 🖤

82 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 17 days

Text

104 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 2 months

Text

Immaculate Eggception (K.A.)

warning: like everything. it’s graphic. don’t read it.

note: happy birthday grayson!!!

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

It was a dark and stormy night. Kai Anderson’s blue hair clinged to the sides of his face due to the rain. The power hadn’t gone out yet, but he knew it was soon to leave. The car rolled to a stop in the driveway. He turned the headlights off, shifted the car into park and pulled the handbrake. Pulling his hood up for cover, he ran through the quick journey from the car to the front door.

Winter is almost over, just 8 more days, and the snow has abandoned the earth, but the raging showers of spring are becoming prematurely present. Kai knows this day above all else. Today is the 11th of March, which, to the cult, might as well be Christmas.

Claire lied sleeping on the couch in the basement. It was crummy, and smelled rather stale, but she considered herself lucky to not be locked up at the moment. A restless sleep on a gross couch is better than nothing. Violet and Levi had already prepared in accordance with the annual ritual; they had bathed in the blood of a newborn calf and dressed themselves in white silk from head to toe. They had already made their way to the ‘bomb shelter’ in the basement. They were ready to fulfill their roles.

Kai pounced into the kitchen, ripped out a metal tray and plapped a heap of slop and a bountiful serving of gruel upon it. He drizzled a sedative atop the serving to ease the pain. As a cult leader, he found himself able to hook himself up with pharmaceutical connections, and at this point in time, he could probably get any medicine on the market for a fraction of the price with no prescription.

Carrying it down the stairs, he could hear the whimpering cries already. He reached the basement, eyed Claire in her sleep and wondered if for only a moment, she understood the severity of the situation. Sure, she understood what happens on this day every year from a surface level, but was she aware of the personal impact she’s made on it? Does she ever feel guilt? Remorse? Anything at all? He regarded the door, metal, solid, heavy, and stable. Padlocked shut and lock chained together. There was hardly any getting in or out.

That is, if you’re not Kai Anderson. He took out the key, which he kept on a necklace chain around his neck. This was his dirty little secret; a guilty pleasure, if you will.

The room was essentially a prison cell. Ironically enough, all other months of the year, this pocket of the house is utilized as a storage closet for cleaning products, board games, old clothes, all the things that fall through the cracks in a house.

He unlocked the door, seeing Levi and Violet inside. There was a bare mattress on the floor in the corner, greasy, and bloodstained. The chains of his shackles rang throughout the room as he pulled at his restraints. It was time.

“Cluck cluck, my silly little goose,” Kai spoke to the man on the floor, on the brink of something big. Something unnatural.

You see, it wasn’t always this way.

Grayson was a devoted member of the cult, once upon a time. However, the cult eventually fell on hard times. It started during a lethal snowstorm. The cult was snowed into this very house, with little rations left as the long, unrelentingly cold days dragged on.

They were quick to turn to cannibalism, as Claire had contracted a deadly influenza, seemingly on the brink of death. It would be quick. It would be easy. And they would never have to speak of it again.

But Grayson, with his heart of gold, could not stand to see a poor girl be eaten by hungry cult members, not when he had a valuable secret to share.

Though, if he knew where it would lead him, he would have let her die that fateful day.

He informed Kai, in the most straightforward and simple way, that it’s a health condition. He was born with it. An issue in his hormones or a problem with his chromosomes. Whatever the cause was, the result was undeniable: Grayson had the freakish ability to lay eggs.

No, they were never fertilized, as he had yet to lose his virginity. He oftentimes feared to see the outcome of seeing one large, cream colored egg hatch open, some sort of eldritch horror residing inside. But that will never happen, at the rate of things now.

Had he told anyone else of his ability, he would have been fine. He probably would have been on a beach in Cabo by now. But that’s not what happened.

At first, his condition was seen as a gift from above. He was sacred, his body was sacred; Grayson expected to be treated like a king. For a time, he was. For as long as the harsh winter went on, he was given the highest treatment. It almost felt as though he himself was the divine ruler.

But then, winter ended. Grocery trips were made, food was bountiful and plentiful, yet Kai still demanded eggs. Something about the taste, the texture, actually seeing them ooze out of Gray’s body. It was exhilarating. Addicting. Kai was not willing to give it up.

Gray tried to refuse but there’s no saying no to Kai. In fact, Kai preferred it when Gray resisted. He perceived the entire experience as wildly erotic, and Kai is known for not containing his lustful desires.

Gray moaned in agony mixed with a foreign pleasure. Violet gasps, “it’s nearly time now, divine ruler. Take your place. You won’t want to miss this.”

Today the time has come for Grayson's monthly expulsion. Or rather, his holy event of bringing to light God’s great gift of hard-shelled wombs, his eggs. To perfect this portion of the ritual, Kai takes the step of turning on the song ‘Amber’ by American rock band from Omaha, Nebraska, 311. Tears slipped from Gray’s eyes at the sound of this dreaded song.

Every month, Gray birthed exactly 12 eggs; round, smooth, perfect, delicious as could be. The pushing of Gray’s devilishly yokeish yolks brought the greatest arousal to Kai's downstairs area. Gray's naked, shackled writhing on the floor exposes the first of approximately twelve round bumps portruding out of right above his crotch area. His pussy, if you will.

“It begins.” Kai enunciated. “Keep his legs open. I have a feeling the eggs will need more musty air.” On the side, Kai manufactured musty air out of a special air concoction from his suspicious encloves.”Hm. Spread them right against the wall. My musty air will allow his joints great flexibility. That birthful pussy needs to be open tonight.”

Vi and Levi spread and bolted Gray’s legs against the wall as he screamed in agony. The musk air Kai exuded didn’t really help all that much. He thinks it just rebuilt his torn muscles and ligaments so he’d be stuck in prime egg laying position for the rest of his life. Or a day. Gray arched his back in exhilarating pain. On the wall he looked like a masterpiece, Kai thought, a Renaissance work that sunk ecstacy deep into all of Kai’s bones. A twisted, dark, dirty crucifix; Jesus dying on the cross to birth lustful sins.

The rounded shape of the egg parting his vessel to be squeezed out into the world was all too familiar and anticipatory for Gray; in its accompaniment of fear and thrill at the same time. In its meaning for him as the only event that takes place in his life anymore. In that it is different every time, but still predictable. The first egg was always the hardest, the shield of the rest of his batch. Kai would fry them all the same though. That fact doesn’t help the egg push out faster.

Kai watches the glistening egg emerge out from Gray’s tunnel. To him, the first is always the most exhilarating, getting him truly revved up for the show to come. And come it did. Gray panted and clenched, and the egg popped out into the soft nest laid under Gray. “Aaahhhhnnhhhmmm…” Kai keened. He arched his back on instinct, pushing himself towards Gray and his first egg of the month. He glanced at it for a second for cracks, then eagerly drew his view up Gray’s blushing nether region to see the next egg. “Hahhhh…Oh?”

Instead of the usual one special egg coming out at a time, Kai could see something better. Doubly better. The round peaks of two small eggs peeked out of his clucking comrade, side by side. Two eggs. At once. His eyes widened in awe and dirty curiosity for the feeling of two eggs being pushed out at the same time from Gray.

“Whuh…what is it..?” Gray could feel something odd, or perhaps, even, in himself this time. Kai drops down on the floor to his knees and arms, but with his ass up and legs opening, a dangerous, dirty downward dog pose that he usually only pulled out after Gray’s fifth or seventh egg.

“Cuckoo cuckoo, my goopingful goose, for it is true that there’s about to come two.” Pant. “At once. Two eggs.” Kai’s voice trembled in excitement.

“Eeuuugrrrgghhh…” Yeah, Gray could definitely feel the two clinging eggs now. Pushing them out intact would be a bit hard. He couldn’t even spread his legs any further or you’d be able to perfectly fit a pizza against him at its side after 5-6 slices had been taken out of it.

Kai was groaning and whining while he could see the shape of the eggs mold Gray’s hole to a shape resembling infinity. It reminded him that that was how long Gray would be laying eggs for him by his own command, and he moaned even more gutturally. The eggs stretched Gray out, trying so hard to slip past his sucking barrier. Kai reveled in how Gray let out breathy, pleading moans at the stretch. He panted haard and heaved, and the eggs finally popped out [Pop bop!] in near unison. They landed wetly into their nest. His goose contributed to their wetness a little more, and Kai could just feel his blood rushing everywhere throughout his pleased body.

After that, it was easy for the eggs to just keep coming. A fourth, and Gray shuddered in violent thrill. A fifth, and Kai twisted his head to breathe in the future taste of the eggs. Sixth egg, halfway, and Gray could feel the devil calling, pushing and pushing him to the edge. Seventh, eighth, Kai took off his shirt to expose his inked cult devotion, and gyrated his crotch against the lust-filled air.

By the ninth slippery wet plop, Gray felt the agonizingly arousing tension coming to a peak. At the tenth, Kai felt his resistance doing the opposite. Egg number ten was suspiciously easy to pop out, its moderate size seeming smaller from the unusually wide stretch and hollow exhale of Gray’s hole. It was as if the egg was being pushed out rapidly by something bigger schlicking its way through his tunnel. It made Kai lick his lips, thrust his hips. He could feel that shit coming alright.

Gray’s tunnel was absurdly widened in its middle, but his actual displayed hole seemed like it had been closed more. Kai didn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, but now nearing Gray’s exit, the large average foot-sized bulge was impossible to ignore. (“ore” ass) This could only mean one thing. His scandalous little egg birther had become pollinated with wet life. Immediately Kai’s interested nipples hardened and peaked.

In his head, Kai tsked disapprovingly. No one should have had, could have had, come in his strong room to spread their seed and fertilize Grayson’s exclusive delicious eggs. He told himself he was conflicted on whether Gray really birthing an egg was enticing or not. But he knew his true answer. Either way, he’d have to wait until Gray squelched it out fully.

“Mmmmh. Come on my gray little goose. Take your time, except I wanna see how this big egg of yours oozes. Tick tock, my birthing cock.” Kai twitched his eyebrows and sniffed Gray’s heat further. Gray shivered, and then Kai could see the beginnings of a round brown egg through his ummm pussy. Kai gasped, and moaned “Hooohhhuuuhhhhhahh…” Just the visible surface of the egg was already as wide as his fist. Drool dripped down the corners of Kai’s mouth. Gray slurped up the drool that tried to escape from his own. He’d never laid an egg this large before; didn’t even feel it until it was about to come out now. It was zapping all the electric dirty parts of his body. He panted moistly into the humid air, and clenched himself. But this only made the egg go back inside him.

“NH-..NO! NO!” Kai yelped.

“FUCK!” shouted Gray. “JESUS,” Although he wasn’t sure he’d listen to him, “It- It’s fucking ..mmh! Coming out, o-okay? God, I’m…” But Kai didn’t get to know what he’m. For Gray’s face tightened up, and Gray’s hole widened open. He tilted his hips forward, and the wide tip of the egg began to breach the confines of Gray’s sensitive muscles.

Kai watched in reverence for his goose, witnessed the holy meal his angel was expelling into the dark world. More valuable than a golden egg, laid by a fantasy goose from a giant’s kingdom in the sky, worth all the riches he could think of. His egg layer squeezed hard, slick dripping out around the rounded brown lump. Gray’s exit had now gotten to meet the widest circumference of the egg, the middle. It was glistening slippery like the rest of it, but the brown was fading into a medium green.

Kai’s mind was going erratic at the sight. His impulses were becoming harder to fight. His member was leaking in how much artwork it craved for more. He couldn’t wait for what round warmth was in store. Coming out of store he means. He dripped with the sweat of lust, and looked deep into Gray’s pleading eyes. “Gray…” He breathily, desperately moaned. “Push it out for me now. Make the egg wetter and bring it out. Listen to your master, my miracled one.”

Gray’s speechless lips smacked together lewdly. (I FUCKING HATE THIS ) He oozed and oozed, squished and clenched harder and harder with Kai’s accelerating heaves, feeling every pleasurable curve of the egg, until…the egg was launched out.

It missed the basket; it landed squarely or roundly in Kai’s awaiting hands. Kai moaned. “AAAAUHGGGHHGG HHHHAAAAAUGGGHHHNNNHHHH…!!!” Gray slumped down, head hanging, inhaling and exhaling shudders from his intensely dirty stimulation. To Gray, the egg was perplexing. Disturbing, because of its blend from pink to green to brown. An unpleasant gradient, that instead of knocking at his door, had come out of his own exit.

To Kai, the egg was the most exhilarating experience he had ever witnessed. He wouldn’t tell Gray, but his nipples were, excitingly, leaking, and his pants were downright wet. The warmth of the egg in his palms…he knew Gray had not been fertilized by another. This was the work of God, and Gray was The Holy Virgin, the angels, Jesus himself maybe, in all his miracles. The scent of the egg made him heady. He got up on his knees and threw his head back, exposing his wet spot although he didn’t care. “HHHRRRRGGGRRRAAAAAAGGGGHHH!!!!!”

Meanwhile, Gray felt one last egg squirt out of his hole briskly, given more ease by his widened tunnel. He heard Kai thrusting the air again and talking about the potent pheromones of his twelfth egg, at which his glimmering egg exuder fluttered.

It was over. Kai gathered all of Gray’s eggs into their egg basket, which had the hair of Gray and Kai woven into it. “Unbolt his legs now. It is over.” With Gray’s bountiful egg batch, he entertained the idea of inserting the eggs into someone else. Someone more naughty than his magnificent egg layer. “Happy Birth day, Gray. Heh heh. Winner winner, chicken dinner. Until we cluck next time.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

#kai anderson smut #kai anderson imagine #kai anderson fanfiction #kai anderson x y/n #kai anderson x you #kai anderson fluff #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters #evan peters imagine #ahs fanfiction #ahs #ahs cult #ahs cult fanfiction #ahs cult fanfic

6 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 2 months

Note

I’m sorry but I feel like matty healy woukf fucking STINK 😭 like grease and b.o.

yeah probably

#violette.txtt

1 note · View note

not-alien-girl-v · 2 months

Text

Green Matty 💚

65 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 2 months

Text

love potion (sweetheart!george x reader fluff)

george's gf gets a new perfume and he's obsessed. short and sweet. day 2 of valentine's week. enjoy <3

you drop your bag onto the desk before you slide into your seat. yawning, you pull your textbooks and pencil case from the bag, taking out a pen and tapping it against the front of your exercise book while you wait for the rest of the class and the teacher to file in.

well, while you wait for one specific person to walk in. it doesn't turn out to be a long one, though; luckily - and characteristically, you suppose - he's on time.

“i recognise that rhythm, you little thief,” george's smile is audible as he walks behind you to get to his own seat, and a big one appears on your own face at the sound of his voice. he winks at you as he stands and pulls his books from his bag, and you can't help but grin. “sorry for making you sit through band practice for so long on saturday that you memorised my drum part, baby.”

“s'ok. i like watching you play,” you turn in your chair as george sits next to you, leaning on the back of your seat and looking adoringly at him. “i think it's hot.”

your boyfriend smirks at you, shuffling his chair closer to yours and slinging an arm around your shoulders. “i think you're hot. morning, angel,” he leans in to kiss your cheek, but snaps back to look at you almost as soon as his lips meet your skin, eyes wide. “what is that?”

“what's what? have i gone patchy?” your brow furrows, and you rifle in your blazer pocket for the compact mirror you know you picked up before you left for school. strange - you thought you'd done a decent job with your makeup, for a monday morning. “seriously, g, is there something weird going on with my face? tell me, please.”

he doesn't answer, just closes his eyes slowly and lightly nods the way he does when he's processing.

it makes you panic. “george!”

your boyfriend jumps. “hmm? nah, you're gorgeous. sorry, angel, what i mean is… what's that smell?” george practically shoves his whole face into your neck and inhales deeply. you giggle, slightly nervous of being caught engaging in pda, and gently shove him off you; he sits back and smiles at you, eyes dazed. “did you get new perfume, or something?”

“oh,” you touch your neck almost self-consciously, nails grazing the pulse point you'd spritzed onto just under an hour ago. “yeah, when i went into manchester with mum yesterday. gucci.”

“ooh, posh,” he smirks, laughing when you elbow him and leaning back in his seat quite attractively. “smells amazing, though. i really like it.”

“yeah?”

george nods. “yeah,” he sits up again, nuzzling into you and inhaling the fragrance a second time. “gonna stay like this for the rest of the day, thanks. maybe for the rest of time, in fact.”

you giggle. “you're an idiot, babe.”

“only cos you're irresistible,” george takes a final sniff of your perfume before moving to sit properly. “you and that perfume. gonna be a struggle keeping my hands off you all day.”

“nah,” you ruffle his hair. “ the novelty'll wear off soon. you’ll be fine.”

oh, how wrong you are.

that first class - the only one you actually have with george today - is fine, albeit your boyfriend constantly leaning closer to you “just so i can see the board without that guy’s massive head in the way, babe”, despite him never having complained about an obstructed view before. you don't say anything, just nod and bite back your grin and do your best to focus on your work; easier said than done, when george’s lips are only inches from your own. if you just turned your head…

jesus. what is up with the two of you?

he does kiss you, though, when the bell rings at the end of class. that in itself isn't unusual - despite your aversion to pda, you know everyone's too busy rushing to shove everything back in their schoolbags and make it to next period to be looking at you and george - but you do let yourself linger against his lips for a little bit longer than usual before pulling away.

actually, it's george who breaks the kiss first. “you're trying to kill me, aren't you?” he breathes, helping you up from your seat and wrapping you into a hug. “wearing that perfume, kissing me like that. and here i thought you were a nice girl.”

you laugh, leading him towards the door. “well, babe, you know what they say - always the quiet ones.”

“yeah,” george hugs you again when you reach the corridor; you giggle when he, yet again, deliberately takes a breath of your perfume. “see you later, angel. don't miss me too much.”

“i should be saying that to you!” you scoff, ruffling his hair. “bye, baby.”

you pass your boyfriend again an hour later, on opposite sides of the art corridor. a cheeky grin appears on his face when he spots you from a few feet away, and judging by the warmth in your cheeks you reckon there's a flush forming on yours. it's busy, two parallel currents of people coursing up and down to their respective next classes, but george still takes a second to lean over and kiss your head when you get near enough to each other. “you smell amazing!” he shouts, as you separate again.

“oh my god, stop it!” you call back, elbowing your suddenly-hysterical friends and turning to walk even faster towards the languages department. george’s laugh is audible, even as you move; he shuts up abruptly, though, and you hear (in quick succession) a bashing noise, your friends’ giggles turning to gasps, and the stern voice of the head of art. you're too far away to hear what she’s saying, but it can't be anything good. you wince. “someone tell me what just happened. i can't look.”

“i think,” jodie's shoulders are shaking, a telltale sign of her trying to keep from laughing. “george might have just walked straight into the door because he was too distracted by you, and miss malone's giving him shit for it.”

“what?!”

“and yet,” saira smirks. “he's still trying to look back at you.”

you shake your head, trying your best not to smile. “idiot boy.”

and you're sure to call george that to his only slightly bruised face at 3pm, when he swans out of the music corridor doors towards you, waiting with folded arms, cocked hip, and knowing smirk. you pull him into a hug. “i can't believe you walked into a fucking door.”

“don't you fucking start,” george groans, doing his best to lean down and hide his face in your hair for a second, before leading you towards the gates. “s'your fault i did it, anyway. and also that i fucked up in double music.”

“oh, piss off, it was not my- wait,” you stop dead in your tracks, turning round to gawk at your boyfriend. “did you just say you fucked up in music?”

he frowns, only speeding up his walking to the point he's less holding your hand than dragging you behind him down the street. your jaw drops. “you fucked up in music. you? george daniel? you fucked up?”

“if you mention it to literally anyone, i'm never giving you a lift anywhere ever again.”

you kiss his cheek. “alright. i'm sorry, baby. but… how?”

george sighs. “kept falling out of time because i got distracted thinking about your new perfume.”

“you being serious?”

“dead,” he nods. a tiny smile appears on his pretty face. “teacher kept asking me if i was ill. that's how bad it was.”

“oh my god,” you sling his arm over your shoulder, looking up at him with a grin. “maybe you are. maybe you're having some weird allergic reaction to it, and it's giving you brain fog.”

“but then why would i want to keep snuggling with you?”

you shrug. “seeking comfort because you're poorly? i don't know.”

“hmm, you could be right. maybe i am ill,” george ponders. without warning, he turns you in towards him and begins pressing kisses all over your face and making you giggle. “i think i'm lovesick.”

you shove your bag further up your shoulder and wrap your arms around george's neck. “god, how awful. what's the cure?” you sigh dramatically.

he grins, one of the shit-eating variety. “a snog from my girl.”

“oh, i think we can manage that,” you lean up on your tiptoes and press your lips to your boyfriend's, sighing into his mouth when his tongue traces your lower lip. george’s kisses always leave you dazed, and this is no exception - he has to hold your hips to keep you from wobbling too much when you break apart, breathing heavily. “wow. you cured?”

“nah, think i need a second dose when we get back to mine,” george smiles. “once my homework's done, that is.”

your eyes widen. “ok, maybe you are actually genuinely ill.”

“i'm serious!” george tugs you onto his street. “get all the distractions out the way first, so i can focus on what really matters: snogging you.”

“right,” you nod, biting your lip so you don't laugh, as george digs around his pockets for his house key. he kisses your cheek as he ushers you inside, and you preen at the sweet gesture. “well, we'll see how much we get done, babe.”

“all of it. i'm determined. even chemistry.”

you kiss his head as he bends to unlace his shoes, unconvinced he’ll have the willpower. “sure, sweetheart, whatever you say.”

for the second time in a day, though, you're proven wrong. george powers through his work in a couple of hours, sliding everything off his bed once he's finished with the most smug face you think you've ever seen. “time for my lovesick meds, i think.”

“alright. but you better not be thinking about me in one of those slutty nurse halloween costumes,” you say, getting up from the bed to grab something from your bag.

there's a muffled noise from behind you, which you figure is george face-planting into a pillow. “well, i am now,” he sighs, leaning round to look at you, and sits bolt upright when he sees you spritzing perfume onto your wrists and neck. “is that…?”

“it is,” you wander back over to the bed, climbing onto your boyfriend's lap and resting your arms on his shoulders. his make do with rubbing your thighs through your tights. “your favourite.”

george smiles. “nah,” before you can even react, he flips the two of you so you're lying beneath him. “you're my favourite. i love you.”

“i love you,” you pout your lips, and george takes the hint. he kisses you, long and slow and sloppy, teeth pulling at each other's lips, tongues licking into each other's mouths, hands trailing and cupping and squeezing and caressing, brains getting hazier by the second as the oxygen leaves and the dopamine sets in. you gasp when you feel his lips move across your jaw and down your neck, pressing soft kisses before settling on a recently-discovered spot that drives you mad, while his deft fingers work to remove your tie and unbutton the top buttons of your blouse - he pulls the fabric aside slightly and continues to trail kisses down, soaking up the drip trail of your perfume and gently biting when he reaches the edge of your bra. softly moaning, you card your fingers through his hair. “george.”

quick as a flash, he's hovering over you again, stroking your cheek. “you alright, angel? is there something you want?”

“yeah,” you breathe, twisting to kiss the tip of his thumb - and savouring the way his breath catches in his throat - before smiling your sexiest smile. “close the door.”

138 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 2 months

Note

can i ask what you see in matty healy?

yes of course!

#violette.txtt #the 1975 #matty healy

1 note · View note

not-alien-girl-v · 3 months

Text

good morning everyone and happy valentine’s day!!! i had a dream last night about matty and i’m totally going to fit it into a new friends to lovers fic i’m starting today!!!

#violette.txtt #the 1975 #matty healy

4 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 3 months

Text

im going to die😭

57 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 3 months

Text

for reference here is the image in my head when writing broken pieces in case anyone was wondering. bestie and bf vibes at a christmas party. get in the sandwich

#violette.txtt #the 1975 #george daniel #ross macdonald #george daniel x reader #ross macdonald x reader #matty healy #adam hann

15 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 3 months

Text

Broken Pieces (George Daniel)

warning: drinking, being mean to boyfriend, language

note: merry christmas.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

You pulled up to this party at 10 o'clock on the dot courtesy of your friend Violet who provided you a ride. She said she had better places to be than third wheeling with you and George all night. You know the truth is that she doesn't like going to parties where she doesn't know a lot of people, but you figured you'd let her have it just this once.

Your top is comfortable tonight but your jeans are digging into your stomach in a bad way, something to do with your seasonal weight gain, something that always happens post-Thanksgiving and pre-Christmas, but George always assures you that he loves your body no matter what 'format' he gets it in. He always had an odd way with words, but the sentiment remains nonetheless.

The door of Matty and George's apartment is already open when you press on it. The air is about 10 degrees hotter inside than the frosty winter air outside, and it's comforting. It always feels like home.

Gazing around the living room, you see a random guy you've never met before in a large hat with the Grinch's face on it, a tasteful choice for a holiday party. You always wonder who the hell these people are that attend your boyfriend and your boyfriend's boyfriend's parties. Sometimes they just feel like extras in a movie set, but maybe you only feel that way since you never go out of your way to talk to the people you don't know.

And why would you, when you spot Ross and George together in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, drinks in hand. George's hair is a mess and he's wearing his black D.A.R.E. shirt but in your mind, he looks beautiful as always. Of course, you'd never tell him that in public.

You skip over to them, day looking better already. "OMG! Is that my bestie?" You bubbly exclaim, opening your arms to Ross and he returns them with a big hug. He smushes you a little uncomfortably, but it feels nice anyway.

He lets you go, "hey bestie," he speaks lowly. He's become well accustomed to your vocabulary, knowing to call you his 'bestie' rather than 'best friend.' You turn to George.

"Hey bitch." You grab his glass out of his hand, taking a sip, and coughing immediately after swallowing. "That's gross."

"Hi, love, when did you get here?" George ignores your initial rudeness.

"Just now. Scooch over, I wanna get in the sandwich." You're referring to standing in between the two men, being in the 'sandwich' as you call it. They both wordlessly create space between them in which you squeeze into.

"Have you guys seen hat guy?" You ask.

"Who?" Ross returns.

"Guy with the Grinch hat?"

"No. Wish I had though. Sounds cool," George looks down at you as he speaks. You decide to take advantage of this opportunity and grab him by the back of the neck, pulling him into a hard kiss that he gladly gives back, smiling into it. Ross makes a retching noise to your right.

"Y/N, wait, I need you to settle an argument. A girl argument," Ross interjects.

"What's a girl argument?"

George sighs in annoyance, "an argument that we, as men, cannot come to a verdict on without the input of a woman. It's stupid, Ross, I told you we don't need to ask a girl about this."

"No, we do. You're stupid. Okay, so. When women are, like, breastfeeding, does the milk come from the center of the nipple or from the whole area?"

"Like a shower head type deal," George adds, forgetting that he's against this argument.

"Yeah like a shower head. Because I say nipple but George says shower head. So what's the truth?" The look on his face is so sincere that you're certain he's completely serious. You glance at George, a similar expression. A prime opportunity to fuck with them.

"It actually comes out of the pores on the boob. Like you know how you have pores on your face? So it's a different type of skin on your boobs and the milk comes from under the skin and through the pores. That's why they sell those tit pore strips to clear out all the crap gets stuck in there so the milk comes out. You ever seen those before?"

"No, I haven't," Ross is astounded.

"Really? That's crazy, I would have never guessed," George nods his head as he speaks like he's really coming to terms with this false truth.

"No, not really, I'm fucking with you. I don't know how it comes out, why would I know? I've never breastfed before."

"Fuck off," Ross rolls his eyes, upset that you really had him going for a moment.

You cackle, happy to mess with them, then turn to George. “George? Sweet baby? Love of my life?”

He groans, shutting his eyes, “yes?”

“Will you go get me a drink and in return I’ll love you forever?”

Sighing, “I’ll be back,” and he leaves a parting kiss on the top of your head.

“Where’s my kiss?” Ross exclaims to the back of George’s head as he walks away, flipping him off as he goes.

“Ugh. Thought he’d never leave. That fucking’ guy, am I right?” You playfully joke to Ross.

“Yeah, what a loser,” Ross adds in, very best friend of him.

“Okay, Ross, what do I get him for Christmas?”

“I’m getting him a lighter with his name on it. Is that too gay?” He asks in full seriousness.

“The lighter or the name?”

“Both.”

“I think it would only be gay if it had your name on it. You’re fine. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“I thought it did. Don’t get him a lighter.”

“Again, not an answer to my question. If I don’t get him a lighter, what do I get him?”

“Get him a super sick Grinch hat,” he points at Grinch hat guy who is now walking by.

“He’d never wear that shit.”

“It’d be funny though.”

“But for once, I don’t want funny, I want sentimental. Something that shows I love him, since I’m so bad at doing that otherwise.”

“Sex coupons?”

“What are sex coupons?”

He looks you dead in the eye, “let’s put on our thinking caps, use our context clues, why don’t we?”

“Okay, fine, I’m not gonna do that, anyway. It’s lame. And cheap. I may be broke and uncreative but not to that extent. I have dignity.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Do you?”

“Shut up.”

“Here’s your drink, love. ‘S just a soda since we don’t have what you like here,” George suddenly returns with a cup of Sprite in his hand.

“See, even he knows what I like. How am I supposed to compete with that?” You throw your hands up in surrender.

“He’s a little slow. It won’t even matter what you give him, even if it doesn’t mean anything, he’ll love it,” Ross tells you.

“I’m right here,” George takes a sip of your Sprite, eyes bouncing between the two of you in confusion.

“But I need to be a better girlfriend, none of this lame shit. That was just practice, this is the first game of the season.”

“Then just suck his dick and call it a day!” Ross returns your energy.

“Hello?” George asks again.

You turn to him, “hi. Thanks for the drink. Sprite?”

“Yeah, poured it out of a can and everything. Feeling like Gordon Ramsey right now.”

Chuckling, you take the drink out of his hand and sip at it. He comes to stand on the other side of you, completing the sandwich once more. “And for the record, I think you’re an amazing girlfriend.”

“You would say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re so nice to me, all the time. Don’t I ever piss you off? Push your buttons just a little too much. Don’t you ever want to go off on me?”

“Of course not, you know I’m not like that.”

You sigh, “yeah, I know.” You pause, then continue, “so, what do you want for Christmas?” You rest your head on the side of his arm (would have been his shoulder if you were taller but it’s like, literally whatever).

“I’d be happy with just a day with you. I don’t need anything fancy, some heartfelt shit. Just some quality time.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“I feel like you want me to give you something more material so you can just buy it. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, if you want to get me something I’ll like, get me some cologne. Something you think smells good. Promise I’ll wear it.”

You hold out your pinky to him. He hooks his with yours, giving a brief shake, then holding onto your hand with both of his. “You look tired already baby. Do you want to lay down?”

“First of all, that’s rude to say. Second of all, you’re right and I hate it. Stop reading me so well.

“So, yes?”

“Yeah…” He nods, happily grabbing your hand and leading you to his room which he had locked for the sake of the party. You turn back and wave goodbye to Ross; you’ll probably fall asleep and see him next tomorrow.

George holds the door open for you and guides you inside. He even pulls back the comforter for you to slip under. Once you do, he cheesily tucks you in, kissing your forehead. “Anything I can do for you, my dear?”

You shake your head no, already feeling too pampered and spoiled for one night.

“Alright,” he kisses your forehead and stands from his kneeled position, dusting his hands off on his pant legs. “I’ll leave you be now. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You still have no idea what cologne to get him, but at least it’s a start. How hard could sex coupons be to make, anyway?”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @butyou-callmewhenyourebored @milkluvr8 @americanangel

34 notes · View notes