Eminem Fan Fiction Shorts II

Marshall's Woman

The following afternoon, Cat and I were still in bed. We'd gotten up at one point to shower and eat, but had quickly found ourselves hungry for other things. At the moment, I was playing with her long hair, running my fingers through it as her head rested on my chest. She lifted up after a few minutes, setting her chin on her hands as she looked at me.

"I'm afraid of you." She said softly. I frowned, my hand pausing in its movements as I fell under the spell of her eyes.

"Why?" I asked.

"Sticks and stones can break my bones, Marshall." Cat responded quietly. "But only you can break my heart."

I moved, flipping her underneath me as I leaned on both forearms near her head. Shaking mine, I bit at her lip, tugging it softly between my teeth. When I released it, I lifted to once again look in her eyes.

"Then you have nothing to fear." I told her. "I'd rather cut out my own heart with a rusty spoon than hurt you." I kissed her as I continued. "As my goddess, I'll worship you. As my gladiator, I'll cheer for you. As my woman, I'll treasure you."

Cat gripped me tightly to her, returning my kiss. We stayed fused like that for eons, conveying our feelings. When I pulled back, she raised a hand to run fingertips over my jaw, her question in her eyes.

"I swear it."

---

Seven months later, I was walking into my office and searching for the remote. Cat had another match coming up soon, and she'd recently had to sit for a bunch of interviews about it. The one tonight was being filmed in Vegas, where she was going to fight. It was excruciating, being without her, but I knew she'd be home again tomorrow.

"Cat Hannah," the interviewer, some typical anchor-looking dude was saying.

"Scott Reynolds," Cat responded, her eyes twinkling at him in humor. She'd recently switched her contacts to a set that made her look like she had actual cat eyes. It was hot as fuck.

"Word on the street is that you and Eminem are still going strong." He said and I tensed. This interview was supposed to be about her and her fight, not me. Cat, however, just cocked her head at the idiot, refusing to say anything. He smirked, and then gestured off the set.

"We received this tonight and thought you might be interested in it." He said, and music filled the room.

I strained to listen, curious as to what was going on. When I heard it, I felt the rage start to pulse in my blood. Some up and coming mumble rapper had put some bars in his shit that talked about me and Cat. It was hard to decipher all of it, but the overarching theme was how much better he'd be at keeping her satisfied while I watched, likening his prowess in the sack with his raps. Fucking moron was mine, now. 

"Reactions, Cat?" Scott asked, his face barely controlling his excitement.

"It's precious." Cat responded. The interviewer wouldn't know this, but I saw the flash in her eyes. Cat thought this shit was funny, no doubt because she knew how ballistic I was going to go on the mic as a result.

"Precious?" Scott inquired, cocking his head in confusion. Cat nodded, her smile wide as she replied.

"It's precious that he would think he can play with the big dogs. It's like a chihuahua barking at bull dog. Everyone knows that if the bull dog decides it has had enough, the chihuahua isn't surviving it." Cat said, and I nodded.

"There's my girl." I said softly as Scott coughed in his surprise.

"I take it that you and Eminem are doing well, then?" He pushed and Cat sighed and shook her head and looked at the camera.

"See you soon, baby." She said and then she stood up and walked off the stage, leaving Scott to stare in shock at her empty chair.

---

"No, I won't move in." Cat said, actually stomping her fucking foot for emphasis. I tilted my head at her as I put a thumb over my shoulder toward the house.

"You already fucking did." I reminded her. She narrowed her eyes at me and pointed.

"Then I'm moving back." She said as she turned on her heel and started to walk across the street. I grabbed her by the waist and turned her, knowing she wasn't too pissed because she let me do it.

"We can compromise," I said against her lips, teasing them with my own.

She'd gotten back from Vegas this morning. I'd had the movers bring all her things over while she was traveling, setting it up in my place because it was big enough for it all. Everything had been great for the twenty or so minutes that she looked around and preened. Until, that was, she realized that I'd put all her shitty movie posters in the far end of the house. We never fought over anything of substance, but fucked if we didn't manage to get into it over the littlest of shit.

"Evil Dead and Evil Dead II get to be in the bedroom." She demanded as she nipped at my lip.

"Hallway," I countered, my hands moving to grip her ass and squeeze. She moaned and nodded.

"Deal," she gasped, her hands coming up to cup my face.

The light caught the sparkle of the diamond on her finger and I smiled to see it. She'd been floored when I'd asked her, her normal confidence completely gone as her face had blanked with surprise. The moment of her being speechless was still etched in my mind, a second only to the memory of when her joy became apparent and she said yes.

"Good. Now, come inside. I still need to establish who gets to rock this body." I said, pulling her backwards. She chuckled and nodded.

"You know you're the only one who can touch me. I'd break his damn fingers." She said and I murmured approval from my mouth's place at her neck.

"Damn straight."

A/N:  And, there goes another short, into the done category. Hope you liked Cat and Marshall. I have requests in this fandom and another, so I'm working to balance time. Depending on how things flow, the next short for Marshall will go up tomorrow. Then again, you all have to have noticed that when the mood strikes, I can't stop that shit from coming and so, who knows? :)  Until then, happy reading!