Imagines and One-Shots (Book Two)

Hands to Myself (Marshall Traver)

if smut isnt ur thing, u should probably just stop reading now. real talk, guys. this goes from 0 to 100 real quick.

if ur related to me or ur marshall or smthng, it would just be better for all of us if u didnt read this lmao

~

You were sitting in a booth in a restaurant beside your boyfriend, fidgeting a bit as you were waiting for his parents to arrive. You were meeting them for the first time tonight, but that wasn't what had you feeling so antsy. Last weekend, you had taken Marshall to dinner at your parents' house so they could meet and to say it was a hard night on you was an understatement.

Marshall started out with his hand on your knee under the table – a completely innocent gesture – but when he started inching his hand up your thigh, you knew he had other plans. You shot him a warning look, even scolding him quietly when your parents left the room to bring in the food, but he wouldn't listen. You had to sit there the whole time shoving his hand out from under your dress subtly – having to pretend that A) nothing was out of the ordinary on your side of the table, and B) you weren't three seconds from grabbing his hand and dragging him up to your old bedroom.

Needless to say, after you got home and he helped you wind down, you forced him to sleep on the couch. Of course, you knew that that wasn't enough to get him back for what he'd done, so when he told you that his parents wanted to meet you that next Friday night, you were already hatching a plan.

I mean, hey; Payback's a bitch.

Your hand was on Marshall's upper thigh, your fingers dancing around dangerously close to his crotch. You heard his breathing start to slow down as he concentrated on anything other than what you were doing to him, but you were incredibly persistent. 

"Stop it, princess," he murmured.

"What, baby?" you smirked. It was then that Marshall knew what you were doing – you never called him baby until you were trying to get him worked up.

"You know what," he growled, grabbing your hand suddenly and putting it palm-side down on the crotch of his jeans, allowing you to feel his very prominent boner. You only snorted softly, pushing your palm down to make him moan, having to bite his lip so it wasn't too loud.

"I don't know why you thought putting my hand there was going to make it any easier for you," you returned, looking at him with an innocent smile.

"What the he-"

"Do you remember when I took you over to my parents' house for dinner last weekend?" you asked him. Marshall grumbled under his breath.

"I thought we were past that!" he whispered.

"Oh, you thought sleeping on the couch that night was your punishment?" the corner of your mouth curled into a mischievous grin. You pushed down again, making his breath hitch as he swallowed thickly. "Such a shame your parents aren't here yet either," you sighed, leaning in so you could press your lips to his ear, "It's gonna be a long night, baby."

"Y/N, don't you-"

"Wish we weren't in such a public place right now," you murmured, nipping at his earlobe as your fingernails scratched his jeans. He squeezed your hand, pushing it down again to give him something – anything – to relieve himself without drawing any attention.

"Y/N," he warned shakily.

"Been thinking about you all day, baby," you went on, ignoring his comments as you kissed his ear, "Couldn't get the memory of how good you made me feel last night out of my head. Wanted to take care of myself, but I know nothing takes better care of me than you do."