🎧

❥ . . welcome! this is my everything else blog!

– i have a main blog where i write for kpop ggs, but in this one i write about everyone else i like! (taylor swift, penn badgley, victoria pedretti, harry styles, bang chan, etc)!!

- i accept requests!

penn badgley

jealousy, jealousy. | joe goldberg

kiss me like you mean it | joe goldberg

late night talking | joe goldberg

taylor swift

❥ . . late night talking > joe goldberg

the ending lines of your book bring you to reality, and it takes a second for your eyes to adjust to everything around you that weren’t letters on a paper.

the clock beside you reads 12:09, you got completely immersed in your book for hours, and while the warmth of your fuzzy blankets , you miss the specific warmth of the man wearing a golden band that matches yours.

you shiver at how cold the tiles have become as you make your way to the living area, where your husband’s back greets you, hunched over a screen, one of his many students’ thesis splayed across it. he’s warm to the touch, and when you wrap your arms around his frame he leans back into your chest, rubbing the skin of your forearms with his thumbs.

“did i wake you?” joe’s chin tilts up as he stares at you, waiting an answer.

“not at all” a peck to his cheek and you’re tip toeing to sit on his lap. “im kind of famished, fancy a break?”

he stares at you for a couple of seconds, his lips slowly curving up into a smile when he giggles “sure hon” it’s such an endearing sight to anyone else, the two of you clinging to each other for anything silly as grabbing your keys and slipping on some shoes before heading out.

“what would you do if i went to touch you now?” her hand is just beside your hip on the marble counter, her breath inching even closer from where it rested, her eyes stuck on your lips.

your friend’s halloween party was an annual thing. you and taylor always attended. only this time you were there together, well, in your quiet little minds. truly, you believed the two of you were doing well keeping the actuality of your relationship private. but you had failed miserably.

just from the way you looked at each other, everyone knew. you are in love.

❥ . . kiss me like you mean it > joe goldberg

he’s been thinking about you all day, how he overheard you talking about him to your friends.. he’s never really been full of himself, but the way you talked him up and told your friends all about how good he made you feel, how big you thought he was, he couldn’t wait to get home and make you feel all the better and listen in while you tell them.

joe tries to fast forward through all the formalities, walking home, putting down his belongings and getting to you. just the sight makes him hard, you look so innocent, so delicate watching the tv in a t-shirt and fuzzy shorts. and you greet him with the sweetest smile. he can’t believe this is his life. it all worked out. this was his happily ever after.

“hi” he sighs, smiling blissfully when his lips touch yours. he’s thrown an arm over your shoulders, and his other hand cups your jaw. “mm- something on your mind sweets?”

“you” a whimper leaves you when he cups you over your shorts.

“then come on, kiss me like you mean it” he’s chuckling as he tightens the hand on your jaw and presses harder kisses on your lips. his hands are calloused, rough, but just as the sting of his beard, they’re something you now can’t live without. “i heard you the other day” his eyes focus on your red- swollen lips, even as he tugs on the bottom one with his thumb

“hm?” for better comprehension, you pull away from joe and stare at his eyes, waiting for elaboration.

“i think it’s cute that you talk to your friends about me” he makes sure to initiate eye contact when he slithers his hand inside your shorts. the pads of his fingers move expertly on your clit, they gather your slick spreading it around and using it to draw circles and figure 8’s slowly and torturously knowing it’s just how you like.

“joe..” your fingers play with his beard next, gasping at his moving fingers. he only hums as a response and nudges your cheek with the tip of his nose.

“i want to take my time with you sugar” joe always thought he had a deadline, to find the right woman, to settle down and marry, but you make him feel like he has all the time in the world. you make him want to enjoy all the little things and take his time. you’re all he thinks about every day, every second, even when he’s supposed to be discussing british literature he can’t stop thinking about you.

❥ . . jealousy, jealousy > joe goldberg

- joe’s happy you’re making friends in london, until he notices the way that stupid writer looks at you.

joe’s hand settles on your hip as soon as the door closes behind him. it’s become a habit since your early stages of relationship. he simply follows as you say your hellos and press your cheek against other girls’ faces with loud kissing noises.

from what you told him, he wasn’t really interested in meeting your friends, if anything he thought of them as one of the many reasons he clung to you a little bit tighter every morning

“y/n, you made it!” joe watches as a peppy blonde throws her arm over your shoulder, not minding how the two of you were almost tangled together.

“hi! phoebe, this is my husband, joe” the blonde brightens up (something joe thought impossible) when you present him. he only nods with a small smile and shakes her hand, despite her attempts of hugging him.

she smiles “come, come. i have to introduce someone to you”

his hand burns into your side, fragments of earlier and your poor attempt of a quickie still in your head as the two of you follow after your friend(ish) to a secluded bar. where a pale, almost your height man sat, swirling his shot of whiskey in its glass. joe recognized him immediately. it’s rhys montrose, the writer nadia had been talking to him about earlier.

“rhys! y/n, the girl i had been talking to you about and her husband joe”

“it’s my pleasure” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. joe doesn’t miss the way his eyes roam you over, throwing the cleavage of your dress a longer stare, he watches you all over, probably imagining lewd scenarios only your husband was lucky to experience.

he wants to leave then and there, but he wants to give it a chance, for you. he can’t think of another reason as to why he would sit there and gulp through this guy’s staring and his always dismissed attempts at flirting with you.

he sees a perfect window when you excuse yourself from the group, something about the powder room, which you never get to, because along the way, he manages to sneak the two of you off to one of many guest rooms.

he knows you felt it too, the way rhyse was staring and making inappropriate jokes, undermining joe and your relationship, inviting you on many scenarios in which he wasn’t included, he doesn’t need anything other than his rough lips and kisses to express what he’s feeling right now.

angry, jealous, possessive? those were just a few of the feelings coursing through him as he moans into your mouth, caving and letting your fingers tangle in his hair and steer him around like a puppy.

“please” your plead breaks him, you look so pretty like this, everytime, even if you were worse than him, kinkier, dirtier, he adored having you like this, under his frame, blushed, sweaty and with your chest racing as if you had just gone running.

“i don’t know doll, what exactly are you asking me for?” his nose nips at your cheek and so do his lips, pressing open mouthed kisses to your skin as he waits for an answer

“fuck me.” he groans when you whisper so sweetly. “please, i want you inside me”

“fucking hell” he struggles to pull away from you even slightly. “you just know i can’t resist when you ask me like that”

there’s some fumbling, but he manages to fish himself out of his pants, tucking your thin underwear to the side before he easily sinks inside you. the two of you make animalistic- guttural sounds at the feeling, and he can’t help when he says

“can’t believe that guy thinks he even has a chance” he chuckles against your jaw before nipping at it, and he just stares. at your furrowed brows, your parted lips. and he listens to your whiny noises and how needy you get for him, and he feels complete.

not as fulfilled as he feels though when he’s sure rhys has heard you, moaning his name over and over until you come.

“y/n?” there’s some incessant knocking, and a faux concerned man on the other side. “are you okay in there darling? you’ve been a while”

“y-yes. yes! im good rhys. i’ll be out in a minute, i think”

“is there anything i can do to help?” god, you wish you could see the two of you from afar. joe’s nibbling at your jaw and neck while your arms around his own keep you closer than ever, your fingers tangling in his hair as you clench your pussy around him. you can’t pretend you’re just touching up your makeup in there. you can care less if the man is waiting for a response, the way joe whispers against you both reassurance and degradations sends shocks of electricity to your poor and abused bundle of nerves.

“are you gonna come?” he chuckles “come on my dick baby, let him hear you. let him know he will never be inside you. that he will never make you feel this good. show him”

“fuck- joe. i’m so close, please”

“i know angel, i’ve got you.” almost on purpose, his hips slam deeper and faster, his thumb quickly presses back and forth on your clit and with his beard grazing against your neck it all becomes too much for you to take. and you’re soon shaking around him, biting his lip after a chain of profanities and his name that you hoped were masked by the music playing outside.