Rumors or Reality - Fan Fic Eminem x Minaj

A Fantasy

Nicki POV

I walked out of the steamed up bathroom with a towel wrapped around my body and shivered slightly at the cool temperature of the bedroom. After Em and I had food, I'd decided to hole up at a hotel and get refreshed. Having cleaned the feel of travel off of me, I took a deep breath and looked around the room.

The room I'd chosen was less posh than I could have gotten, but I hadn't really been feeling like going all out. Although I'd come to Detroit to convince Em to do the feature and he'd agreed, we hadn't really talked about which studio we'd do it in. He probably preferred his, and I'd be okay with that, but I had a few favorites as well that he might want to consider. If it turned out I was staying here longer than expected, I'd upgrade my room.

Unwrapping the towel, I took another swipe at myself before hanging it up and then walking over to the wall temperature gauge. I needed to crank it up to get these goosebumps under control. Satisfied with the excessive amount of heat I put the machine on, I wandered over to the bed and flopped back on it, grabbing my phone as I did.

Now, there are a lot of things about who I am that I love, plenty of things that I wish I could improve, and some that are less than my favorite. With regard to my physical form, there was one thing that I think any woman with my particular body shape would agree on: drying the underside of boobs is a pain. The struggle is real. So, it was with that in mind that I decided to just let the heat coming out of the machine on the far side of the room finish what the towel failed to do.

Opening up my phone, I started first with messages. I'm fairly careful with giving out my number, but that doesn't mean much. Even if you say no to a hundred people before you say yes to one, my line of work still means that you have way too many contacts stored. Sinking into the bed, I sighed as I started responding to message after message.

One message caught my eye and I frowned to see it. I was single for the first time in ages, having spent much of my adult life with one man or another. Once I'd finally gotten clear of the last one, I'd decided to take a little bit of a break. My ex, however, appeared to think that there was a chance at rekindling the fire.

I rose a brow at the messages sent by him while I shook my head. Pretty words and fucked up references to good times were all there, trying to entice me. He'd probably give up eventually, but I was wavering. He and I had enjoyed ourselves together – until things went to shit, that was. Twisting my lips, I let out a breath and replied.

Not so sure u have the rt #

I nodded as I looked at the response. It wasn't a complete denial of him, but it wasn't encouraging, either. I was on the fence; his response would help me to decide if I was willing to go down that route again or not.

Moving on from his chain, I pulled up my social media accounts and started flicking through them. People certainly had lost their damn minds over the prospect of Em and I and I couldn't help but smile. There were the naysayers who were, for various reasons, not so keen on the idea of us. There were also, however, a large amount of folks that liked the idea of us getting down. As I read through some of the comments, I chuckled to see the reactions. That, right there, was exactly why I'd suggested the possibility of some play with Em.

Looking back over the last forty-eight hours or so, I knew that he'd agree. I'd been slightly tipsy when I'd called him, but that didn't change the fact that I was totally on board with what I'd suggested. Em had a great sense of humor. He was a goof at heart, even if he presented a tough exterior. Anyone who'd had the pleasure of hanging around with him outside of the limelight knew it to be true.

As my fingers swiped through the various screens, I landed upon what looked like a particularly heated debate about Em and I. Curious, I danced my index up the screen and started at the top. Now, I'm not one to blush easily, but damn.

As it turned out, what I thought was a debate about us wasn't. Rather, it was a fan theory about how Em and I got together. It started out bland enough, but then the vanilla faded as the posters got more and more intense with their thoughts on what happened to get us into the bedroom. From there, it just became... graphic.

I swallowed as I read, unable to look away from the screen as my eyes scanned over every word. The writing on this thread was a mix of eh to spicy and, for some reason, I just couldn't move on from it. Instead, I read as poster after poster built upon what was effectively a group story describing steamy scenes between Em and I.

There was one poster in particular whose writing captured me. Reading that author's words, I could picture Em doing exactly what was written. Laying naked upon the hotel bed, I could almost feel the warmth of Em's hands sliding up my leg and over my thigh. Licking my lips, I continued to read, fascinated by the way the words created images in my mind.

My heart had started to pound as my brain formed the scene in my head. In it, Em and I had come back from a session at the studio. Working late, we'd found ourselves ordering take out and back at my home. One thing had led to another until Em was within inches of me, his eyes looking at me with desire pooled and his left hand riding high on my thigh.

The author didn't know what Em smelled like, but I did. And, in that moment, I remembered it as if he were there in the hotel room with me. In my mind's eye, I saw the way his eyes flickered between mine, darkness overtaking them. I could sense the heat of his body as it got closer and closer.

My thoughts scattered when my ringtone came up and the screen showed a video call from the man himself. Shaking my head to wipe away the images that had taken root, I drug the blanket up over my chest and answered the call.

"Hey," I said, a little too breathless.

"Jesus, Nicki," Em said, his eyes wide. "What the fuck are you wearing?" He asked. I rolled my lips and rose my brows before I answered.

"I'm covered," I said haughtily. "Why, boo? You getting a little worked up?" I teased, playing it off. Em chuckled and shook his head.

"Who wouldn't, if you answer the phone wrapped in nothing but a blanket?" He responded and I frowned.

"You're assuming I don't have anything on under the blanket," I replied. "Maybe, I'm just cold," I continued.

"Then drop the blanket," Em challenged, his eyes lit up. I narrowed mine and clenched my jaw for a moment before responding.

"You wanted something?" I asked. He nodded.

"Yeah, there's this horse shit dinner happening tonight that Paul tells me I have to attend. I was thinking it wouldn't hurt to up the game, if you don't have plans." He explained. I smiled.

"I'm in," I said. "Send me the details on how fancy and what time to be ready," I asked and he nodded and then ended the call.

Blowing out a deep breath, I tossed my phone to the side and raised a hand to my forehead. I should find a way to get that poster in contact with a publisher. The writing was hot; it would be a shame if he or she focused all their time on a couple that was never going to happen. Because, while I'd gotten caught up in the fantasy about Em, that's all it would ever be – a fantasy.