#slimshady

All you gotta do is ask

The heavy bass from the venue outside is just a faint, rhythmic thrum against the walls of the tour bus. Outside, the rest of the crew was hitting some club, but tonight Marshall just wasn't feeling it. He was wiped, sitting on the leather couch in the back lounge, wearing his usual oversized hoodie and sweatpants. He had a notebook open on his lap, a pen tapped against his chin, completely locked into his own head.

Until she walked in.

She’d been quiet all day, giving him these lingering looks that he definitely noticed but couldn't quite decode. Now, she didn’t hesitate. She walked straight up to the couch, stepped over his legs, and sunk down to straddle his lap.

The notebook crushed between their bodies. Marshall blinked, his pen freezing mid-air. He looked up at her his sharp blue eyes full of sudden intrigue, but there was a flicker of confusion there too.

"Whoa, hold up," he muttered, a faint, amused smirk tugging at his lips as he reached for the notebook setting it aside. "What's up with you? You’ve been acting weird as hell since soundcheck."

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The need had been building up in her chest all day, not being able to have a moment alone with him and being this close now, completely broke her restraint. She leaned forward, burying her hands in his short blonde hair, and pulled his mouth to hers.

The kiss was urgent, heavy, and desperate. He let out a low, surprised grunt against her lips, his hands instinctively coming up to grip her waist. He tried to slow it down, pulling his head back just an inch, his breath warm against her mouth.

"Mmh," he murmurs, his hands squeezing her hips, trying to get her to focus. "What's going on? You're usually the one making me wait. Did someone say something to you tonight, or—"

She cut him off with another deep, bruising kiss, her body shifting against his, rubbing her core right against his thigh through the thick fabric of his sweatpants. A sharp, ragged gasp hitched in his throat at the friction, his grip tightening.

"Marshall, shut up," she breathed out against his lips, her hands sliding down his neck, tearing at the collar of his hoodie. "Nothings wrong, I just really need to feel you inside me. Right now."

His eyes go entirely dark at the words. The confusion vanishes, replaced by a sudden, heavy intensity that makes her stomach flip.

"Yeah?" he growled softly, his fingers digging into her skin. "That's what this is?"

He didn’t waste another second. Marshall shifted his weight, turning her so she was pressed back against the armrest of the couch. He pulled his hoodie over his head and tossed it to the floor, his lean, tattooed chest mapping out under the dim cabin lights. He reached down, sliding his hands under her clothes, his fingers finding her underwear and tugging them down her legs in one impatient motion.

Before he took his own pants down, he looked up at her from between her thighs. His fingers slid inside her, slick and deliberate. She let out a loud, breathless cry, her fingers gripping the leather of the couch as he fingered her with a firm, relentless rhythm, his thumb putting pressure exactly where she need it.

"You're soaking wet," he mutters, watching her face twist with pleasure. "You were really sitting there all day thinking about this, huh?"

He watched her unravel under his touch for a minute, driving her crazy until she was begging him to stop teasing. He pulled his fingers out, leaving her aching, and quickly freed himself.

"Hold up," he murmurs, his voice dropping into that gravelly, quiet register. He slid off the couch, dropping down until he was kneeling on the carpeted floor right between her knees. "If we’re doing this your way tonight, we’re doing it right."

Before she could even say anything, he hooked his hands under her thighs, lifting her legs and draping them over his broad shoulders. The sudden vulnerability made her gasp, her fingers clutching at the leather cushions for leverage. He looked up at her from between her knees, a faint, dark smirk playing on his lips when he saw the flush creeping up her neck.

"Yeah," he growled softly, his thumbs tracing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. "Look at you shaking."

He didn’t make her wait. He leaned in, his breath hot against her skin a second before his mouth made contact.

When Marshall kissed her there, it wasn’t hesitant. He used his tongue in broad, deliberate strokes from the bottom all the way up, tasting her fully. A loud, sharp cry escaped her lips, her back arching off the couch instantly. He gripped her hips tighter, anchoring her down so she couldn’t squirm away from the intensity.

He worked with a relentless, hyper-focused rhythm. His tongue was firm, tracing the length of her before centering entirely on her sweetest spot. He sucked her in gently, his lips creating a heavy, agonizingly good friction that had her tossing her head back against the armrest, her eyes tightly shut.

"Marshall—" she gasp out, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the couch.

He lets out a low, vibration of a groan against her skin, letting her know he hears her, but he doesn't slow down. If anything, he intensifies it. While his mouth completely dominated her, he slid two fingers deep inside her slick warmth, mimicking the rhythm of his tongue. The dual sensation was overwhelming. Every time he stroked inside her, his tongue pressed down perfectly, driving her completely out of her mind.

She was panting, her hips involuntarily rolling against his mouth, begging for the release that’s coiling tighter and tighter in her stomach. Marshall tracked the sudden shift in her breathing. He knows her body well enough to recognize the exact moment she’s about to break.

He sped up, his tongue flickering against her with a fierce, demanding pace that left her completely defenseless.

"Marshall, please—"

"I got you," he muttered against her wet skin, his voice thick. "Go ahead. Take it."

The tension snapped violently. Her thighs clamped hard against his shoulders as her climax hit, waves of intense heat rippling through her entire body. She let out a loud moan, completely shattered, as he stayed right there, breathing through his nose, using his tongue to catch every single drop of her release until her trembling finally started to slow down.

Slowly, he pulled back, lifting his head. His lips were wet, his platinum hair slightly mussed, and his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them. He leaned forward entirely satisfied smirk spreading across his face as he looked at how breathless and undone she was.

“Let me taste” she said pulling him in for a kiss - a hum leaving his. Then, He pulled away.

"Now," he murmured, his hands sliding back up to her waist as he stood up, grabbing the waistline of his pants and pulling them down in one fluid motion. "Like you said... you need to feel me inside you."

She expected him to take her right there on the couch, but Marshall hooked his arms under her knees, lifting her up. He’s stronger than he looks, he guided her down onto her hands and knees on the carpeted floor of the bus lounge. He got behind her, his hands gripping her hips from behind, pulling her back against his thighs.

He aligned himself and pushed inside her in one deep stroke.

The fullness made her head spin. She arched her back, a loud sob of relief breaking from her throat. Marshall let out a guttural groan, his forehead dropping against her shoulder blade as he took a second to adjust to how tight and hot she was around him.

"Damn," he breathed, his voice a gravelly whisper.

He started to move, his pace heavy and ruthless from behind. Every thrust was deep, hitting her perfectly, the rhythm fast and chaotic as he lost his usual restraint to the sheer urgency of the moment. His hands left her hips, one wrapping around her waist to hold her steady while the other reached down to touch her where their bodies met, driving her over the edge. The sensation was too much—she broke, her body tightening violently around him as her climax hit.

Marshall groaned aloud, his pace turning furious for three more heavy strokes before he pulled out abruptly, not wanting to finish just yet.

He dropped down onto the couch, breathing heavily, and pulled her by her wrists until she was on her knees between his legs. He didn’t even have to say it. She leaned forward, taking him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head before sliding down his length.

Marshall’s head fell back against the leather cushion, his eyes closed, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles stood out. His hands found her hair, gently guiding her rhythm, his hips rolling slightly into her mouth.

"Fuck," he muttered, a shaky breath escaping him. "Right there. Don't stop."

She sucked him deeply, wanting to give him the same desperate pleasure he’d been giving her. After a minute, he gripped her shoulders, pulling her up before he lost control completely.

"Come here," he commanded, his voice thick and rough.

He pulled her onto the couch, making her sit down on his lap, facing away from him this time. She lifted her hips and lowered herself down onto him, taking him all the way back in. He wrapped his arms around her chest from behind, his hands locking over her stomach, pulling her flush against him so there was absolutely no space left between them.

She controlled the pace now, riding him hard, her head falling back against his shoulder. Marshall buried his face in her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he moved beneath her, his thrusts meeting hers halfway. The friction was blinding. Every time she came down on him, he let out a low, breathless sound against her ear.

"You like this?" he whispered, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. "Having it your way?"

"Yes," she gasp out, her vision blurring as the tension built again, hotter and tighter than before.

One of her hands came up to his on her breast tightly squeezing , while the other reached back to his neck , she wanted to feel him as close as possible.

He could feel her inner muscles clamping down on him, signaling that she was about to snap. Marshall gripped her waist securely, his pace turning fast and desperate, driving up into her with everything he had left. She called out his name, completely shattered by the intensity, and the sound pushed him over the brink. He let out a raw, unedited growl, his whole body going rigid beneath her as he came deep inside her, his chest heaving violently against her back.

For a long time, the only sound in the back of the bus was the two of them trying to catch their breath. The cabin was hot, her skin slick with sweat.

Slowly, Marshall relaxed, his arms still wrapped securely around her waist, keeping her against him. He pressed soft, kisses to her damp shoulder and neck, a quiet, satisfied chuckle vibrating in his chest.

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