Marshmallow (Marshall Traver)

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wasnt gonna post this until tomorrow but u know ur girl has no patience

~

​Everyone's heard about those rom-com high school love stories where the bad boy starts dating the shy nerd and then everyone just gradually starts accepting her into his crowd, right?

Well, what about when life isn't like a rom-com cliché?

You and Marshall had been dating for over a year now, getting together near the beginning of your junior year. It was an unlikely pairing to say the least, but you were both happier than you'd ever been in a relationship.

The way everyone else felt, however, was a different story.

It was in your last class of the day that this whole mess started. Scott Morris was never fond of you before you started seeing Marshall, and he certainly didn't warm up to you after the fact either. He always made fun of you during class – sometimes even disrupting the lesson just to do so.

Scott followed you down the hallway to your locker after the final bell and to your dismay, Marshall wasn't waiting for you there like he usually was. And because of that, the bully only worsened his vocal blows. You ignored it as best you could, but he decided he was going to make sure you heard him loud and clear today.

It wasn't a hard punch – to be honest, you'd been hit harder before – but it was still enough to immediately leave a nasty looking bruise on your left eye. You let out a loud yelp while everyone else in the hallway didn't even bat an eye – it didn't surprise you, of course; you knew nobody was going to come to your defense.

So instead, you picked your backpack up and ran toward the doors to the student parking lot before Scott could hit you again.

It was pretty clear outside – the buses had already left and there were only a few students waiting for their rides – so it didn't take you long to find the person you were looking for. Marshall was leaning up against the passenger side of his car, waiting for you to come out so he could drive you home. But when he saw that you were keeping your head down as you ran toward him, he was understandably confused.

The moment you reached him, your arms were around his waist and you were holding onto him like your life depended on it.

"Y/N, what happened?" Marshall asked you, hugging you back as tightly as you were hugging him. He didn't know why you were clinging to him – sure, you were always that way with each other, but it definitely wasn't accompanied by feeling your tears seep into his shirt very often.

It was at that point that he decided to really take a look at you – noticing you were careful to hide your face as you approached him. But when he released you and put his hand on your cheek in an attempt to look, you only squeezed him tighter.

"Princess, let me see your face," he told you. You simply shook your head, forcing him to use a tone he hated using with you. "Y/N," he said firmly. He heard you whine softly. "Please, princess," he practically begged, "Please just let me see it." You swallowed thickly but did as he asked anyway, knowing you couldn't exactly hide it from him forever.

The moment you moved away enough for him to see your face, his eyes widened. His hands were on your cheeks, carefully moving your head around to look at the bruise around your eye.

"Princess, what happened to you?!" Marshall exclaimed.

"Nothing," you murmured, "I went to tie my shoe in the locker room and forgot I left my door open." But Marshall knew you were lying – he always did.

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