Rumors or Reality - Fan Fic Eminem x Minaj

Outta Hand

Marshall POV

I stood in the center of my gigantic fucking closet, trying to decide what to wear like a moron. I had about half an hour until I was supposed to pick up Nicki, but I'd been standing in here for the last half an hour after my shower, struggling with a basic issue that really didn't matter worth a shit. And, as much as I knew it didn't matter, I was nevertheless picking up and rejecting option after option.

When I'd made the call to Nicki, I hadn't expected to find her half naked. The fact that she was covered up to her shoulders didn't make one iota of a difference. I knew that she wasn't wearing anything under that blanket and the fact of it frankly fucked with my head. I'd spent entirely too much time thinking about what might have happened if she'd taken up my challenge to lose the covering. That, of course, had led to my present predicament.

Although Nicki and I were just fucking around with this dating thing, the phone call had pushed buttons in me that I hadn't known were there to push. Now, instead of just going with the casual plan that I'd intended, I was wrestling with myself internally. Call me stupid, but I was looking at all my shit and wondering what Nicki would want me to wear.

I knew without a doubt that she would bust my balls if I ever admitted to giving one fuck about this right now. Nicki was fun loving and couldn't help herself – as an MC, she could suss out weakness like nobody's business and if I didn't get my shit together before I picked her up, she was going to sense mine. That I didn't even know what the Hell was going on in my head only made things worse. Nicki was not the kind of woman that you half-assed shit with. I had to put my fingers on what was swirling around inside or I'd metaphorically be a dead man.

Groaning in frustration, I considered doing the unthinkable: I could call someone for help. If I pulled that trigger, however, regardless of who it was, there would be no end in the torture that I'd suffer. There just weren't that many times that Marshall Mathers let people in enough to see insecurity or vulnerability. It would be too good an opportunity to pass up for even my close friends not to give me a whole boatload of shit about it.

Shaking my head, I looked around with determination. I was a grown fucking man; I could find something to wear to a damn dinner party. I didn't need to involve other people in the middle of my ridiculous mindfuck.

Deciding that I'd let enough of the day go with too much internalizing, I grabbed a white button down and black slacks and walked into the other room. I'd bring a damn tie and let Nicki choose whether I should wear it or not, depending on whatever she'd picked to wear. It was a decent compromise that would let my head get out of this negotiation that was taking up way too much energy.

Having made that choice, I put on the clothes as I listened to the music blaring through the house speakers. I needed to chill, and music has always been one of the best relaxers for me. Sinking into the beat as I dressed, I took several deep breaths.

I'd seen plenty of women in a Hell of a lot less clothing than I'd seen Nicki today. For fuck's sake, I'd barely even seen anything of hers. Her shoulders were bare, not the rest of her. It was idiotic for me to get 'all worked up', as she'd put it.

Mentally girding my loins, I grabbed my wallet and slipped on my watch, tossing the tie over my shoulder as I stepped out of the house. This dinner was going to be boring, but for Nicki coming along. In fact, had she not been in town, I probably would have told Paul that I wasn't coming and felt no remorse. With her there, however, there would at least be someone who I would be able to bounce a few jokes off of – someone who got my sense of humor. Given the last of these events that I'd been to had ended with a screaming headache because I had fought to keep myself from going insane, it was a blessing. I needed to just quit worrying about whether her skin felt as smooth as it looked and instead be grateful that she was coming.

The drive helped to ease up the tension in my shoulders. I let the music continue to flow over me, sliding the edginess away. As I was pulling into the roundabout that would let me drop the car with the valet, I realized that I was jamming out to one of Nicki's pieces. Smiling at the irony, I felt calm settle into my steps as I handed off my keys and made my way to the elevators.

I'd texted Nicki that this was a semi-dressy dinner. She'd sent me a picture giving me a look in response, but I didn't know how else to describe the damn thing. Jeans weren't right, but it  wasn't the Oscars. She'd groused about men and their inability to define things while nevertheless having fifty different words for shit. I'd merely sent her a flat emoji and she'd said she'd figure it out. So, as I knocked on her hotel room door, I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to get.

When the door swung back, I found myself looking at an empress. Nicki was in a red cocktail dress that fit closely to her figure until it flared out at her thighs. It sparkled with red and black beads and the colors matched a hair thing she had in that swept her hair up on one side. Her eyes were in that dramatic, almost Egyptian style that made them pop and she had a deep red lipstick on her mouth.

She cocked her head at me, her eyebrow raised, and I nodded. She'd busted me looking, but I couldn't come up with a damn thing to say. That look suited her to a motherfucking T.

"You goin' to compliment your date, Em, or leave me hangin'?" She teased and I shook my head as I stepped over the threshold.

"Like you need anything other than your eyes to tell you that you're fucking banging," I responded drily and Nicki laughed as she moved to the bed to grab the purse waiting there. My eyes naturally slipped to her ass, only to have her catch me looking again. I shrugged, not denying it, and held up the tie.

"Do I wear this or not?" I asked and she stepped closer with a nod. She took it out of my hands and slipped it over my neck as she spoke.

"Definitely," Nicki said. "I gotta have a leash to rein your ass in if you get outta hand," she teased, her eyes sparkling as I felt her fingers work the knot. I nodded and licked my lips, raising a brow.

"You know, you dragging me out of this dinner by the tie would be a Hell of a photo op."