I Want It That Way
940 words; Smut/Explicit
This is vaguely based on Marty’s instagram stories from a few days ago, where he was indeed doing some fairly obscene things with his tongue and also singing along to the song from the title.
The bar is noisy around you, the music blaring, and you’re just drunk enough to be feeling it, nice and loose, but Marty, of course, has to get his fucking phone out. “No pictures,” you say, covering your face, shifting aside so you’re out of view.
“No pictures?” he says, laughing. “I’m not the paparazzi, it’s fine.”
“Good,” you reply, because though Marty seems happy to live his life reasonably publicly, as his girlfriend, you’re still not sure if that’s for you. But you watch him as he films himself, banging his head in time with the beat, curly hair flying. You roll your eyes as he flicks his tongue lasciviously, and he laughs, stopping the video.
“You don’t like that?” he asks, his arm around you, pulling you in close, tongue snaking wet over your ear, making you shiver.