Savage Love || An Eminem Fanfiction

Chapter 120

Blair's POV

The bathroom light flickered softly as I sat on the edge of the bathtub, rolling the waistband of my dress down to make room for the injection. Marshall stood in front of me, holding the syringe like he was about to perform open-heart surgery. His face was set in that intense concentration he usually reserved for writing lyrics or dodging paparazzi.

"You know," I said, grinning, "for a guy who built his career on threatening people in his songs, you've got a surprisingly delicate touch."

He shot me a look. "Yeah? Keep talking, and I'll turn this into a dart-throwing contest."

I laughed, kicking out one leg. "Ooh, edgy. Gonna throw down some bars while you do it, Slim Syringe?"

Marshall smirked, leaning closer as he swabbed the injection site. "You want me to? I could freestyle about how my wife's a pain in the ass while I'm literally sticking one."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm just saying, for someone who spits fire for a living, you've got a real talent for... you know... not hurting me."

"Hey, don't get it twisted. I still rap about 'chaos and destruction.' It's just... with a softer touch now. You're married to a reformed badass."

"Oh, how lucky for me," I said, batting my lashes dramatically. "Reformed or not, you're still over here acting like you're performing brain surgery. Just stick me and get it over with."

Marshall leaned in, tapping the needle against my skin. "Fine. Just remember, you asked for it."

The needle slipped in easily, and I barely felt the pinch before he pulled it out and smirked at me. "There. Didn't even flinch. You're welcome."

"Oh please," I said, pushing down my dress. "I bet you secretly enjoy this."

"Yeah," he deadpanned, tossing the syringe in the bin. "Nothing says romance like stabbing my wife with hormones. Real honeymoon material."

I narrowed my eyes, giving him a mock glare. "You've done worse things to me, Mathers."

He grinned, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in close. "That's true. But those were the fun kind of 'worse things.'"

"Like accidentally putting 'clean' laundry in the hamper? Very sexy, Marshall."

"Hey, don't act like you didn't fall for this sloppiness. Admit it—you love being married to a chaotic genius."

I tilted my head. "Genius? Maybe. Chaos? Definitely. But I keep you around for the entertainment value. Someone's gotta keep you from going full hermit."

He chuckled. "Well, Satan, your entertainment is ready. You good to go?"

"Always," I said, rolling my eyes but smiling.

———

The drive to the Shady label party was smooth, and by the time we pulled up, the venue was already buzzing with music and laughter. Marshall's arm was casually draped around my waist as we made our way through the crowd. Owning Shady Records meant he was used to these kinds of events, but tonight there was something lighter about his energy—like he was allowing himself to relax.

Inside, the party was in full swing. Artists, label reps, and friends all mingled under the dim lights, and I could feel the pulse of the music through the floor. Denaun spotted us almost immediately, weaving through the crowd with a wide grin.

"Blair! Marshall!" Denaun boomed. "Finally! Thought you two were too cool to show up."

"Fashionably late," I teased, pulling him into a hug. "You been holding things down without us?"

Denaun nodded, throwing a glance at Marshall. "You know it. But things get boring without Shady storming through, reminding everyone he owns the place."

Marshall shrugged. "I like to keep 'em guessing. That way they appreciate me more when I do show up."

I elbowed him playfully. "Easy there, Mr. Humble. You're gonna break your arm patting yourself on the back."

He grinned, but Denaun wasn't done.

"Man, you should see how everyone's been walking on eggshells waiting for you," Denaun said. "It's like they forgot you're the boss. 'Oh no, Shady's coming. Better look busy.'"

"I don't need them to look busy," Marshall said, smirking. "I need them to be terrified. Keeps 'em sharp."

I rolled my eyes. "You're just a big softie now, and we all know it. Right, D?"

Denaun grinned. "Can't deny that. This dude used to make people cry for fun. Now he's playing nurse to his wife. Love changes a man."

Marshall shot him a look. "I can still make you cry. Don't test me."

"Yeah, yeah, big tough guy," Denaun laughed, clapping him on the back.

As the night went on, I found myself laughing more than I had in weeks. Denaun and Paul were in top form, cracking jokes and poking fun at Marshall. Even though he wasn't much of a dancer, Marshall couldn't escape when I dragged him to the edge of the dance floor.

"You know I hate this," he muttered, holding my hand loosely.

"Too bad," I said with a grin. "You married me. This is part of the deal."

"Deal, huh?" He raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember signing up for this in the prenup."

I laughed, leaning into him as the music pulsed around us. "Well, consider this part of the 'fine print.'"

"Great. Next time, I'm reading the fine print."

"Yeah, good luck with that," I teased. "You'd still sign up for this. Admit it, you love dancing with me."

"I love you," he said, leaning down to whisper in my ear, "but let's not push it with the dancing."

I grinned, reaching up to kiss his cheek. "Fine. You can just stand there and look pretty. I'll do the dancing."

"Damn right," he muttered, but there was warmth in his voice.

Later in the night, I found myself near the bar with Denaun, watching the crowd as we sipped our drinks.

"You and Marshall seem lighter tonight," Denaun said, leaning against the bar.

I shrugged, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah. We needed this. It's been a lot lately."

Denaun nodded, giving me a knowing look. "Good. You both deserve a break."

Across the room, I spotted Marshall, leaning against a wall with Paul. He looked up at me, his intense blue eyes locking onto mine for just a moment. There was no tension in his gaze, no stress. Just us, quietly existing in the same space.

"You two really are something else," Denaun said, shaking his head. "It's like watching two halves of a messed-up puzzle finally snap together."

I snorted, shaking my head. "What does that even mean?"

He laughed. "It means you two are perfect for each other, in your own weird-ass way."

———

Marshall found me later, slipping his arm around my waist as we stood off to the side, watching the party together.

"You having fun?" he asked, his voice low in my ear.

I smiled up at him. "Yeah. I really am."

His thumb traced lazy circles on my hip, his touch comforting. "Good. You need this."

"We both do," I said softly, letting my head rest against his shoulder.

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the world around us faded away. It was just us, standing together in the middle of the chaos.

For tonight, we were letting go.

And it felt damn good.