"Those girls should be jealous of you"(smut)
A/N: This is my first real smut so please stay with me.
Summary: You're jealous of fans being all over him, so he proves to you that you're his.
Pairing: Marshall Mathers (EMINEM) X reader
Warnings: Sexual Content 18+!
Words: 1235
Marshall brushed off his sweaty face as he stepped into his dressing room after finishing a concert. A frown flashed his face once he saw you, sitting on the sofa, crying and looking mad.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Don’t baby me. You know exactly what’s wrong,” you snap, rising from the couch with your arms crossed tight over your chest.
He blinks, genuinely confused, brows furrowing. “Nooo, what…?” he drags out, hesitant.
You roll your eyes and grab your phone. No words — just action. You pull up the clip, your fingers tapping fast from anger and muscle memory. Then you shove the screen toward him. The video plays: young girls screaming, reaching, practically climbing over one another just to touch him. Shirtless. Sweaty. Smirking as they clawed at his abs — your abs.
He watches it, face slowly falling, guilt flickering behind his eyes. When it ends, he looks at you, soft and apologetic.
“Baby, I…”
“Why do you let them do it?” you cut in, voice sharp but shaky.
He sighs. “It’s an act. You know I’ll lose PR if I act like—”
“Act like what?” Your voice cracks as your eyes lock with his. “A loyal boyfriend?”
He smirks — an infuriating, cocky little curve of his lips that only makes your blood boil hotter. You’re yelling at him and he smirks?
“You’re hot when you’re jealous,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement.
Your jaw tightens, a retort ready on your tongue—until your heart betrays you. The heat crawling up your neck gives you away. You look down, cheeks flushed, lips twitching despite yourself. Damn it. Even in the middle of an argument, you couldn’t resist him. Not when he looked at you like that. Not when he said things like that.
“Baby…” he murmurs, stepping closer . He gently reaches for your hands, wrapping his around yours. “You don’t need to worry,” he says, “I’m just doing that so they’ll buy my CDs. That’s it. Nothing else.”
His thumbs brush over your knuckles as he speaks, like he’s trying to remind you of the softness he saves just for you — the part of him the crowd never gets to see.
“I’m sorry…” you whisper, eyes dropping to the floor. “I’m just so jealous.”
He squeezes your hands gently, giving you the smallest smile — not mocking this time, but warm. Understanding.
“I get it,” he says softly. “Honestly? You’re handling it way better than I would.”
That makes you glance up, just barely. His thumb brushes your cheek, tilting your face toward his. “If it were you on stage, half-naked, with guys all over you?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I’d be in jail.”
You can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips, even as you blush. The tension lingers, but it’s softer now — a slow-burn vulnerability instead of fire. He lifts his head, leaning in until his forehead rests gently against yours. The space between you disappears — not even a breath could slip through.
“It’s ironic that you’re jealous,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours, voice soft and sincere. “Because those girls should be jealous of you.”
In one swift, confident motion, his hands slide down, gripping the backs of your thighs—then lower. You gasp softly as he lifts you up effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He doesn’t break eye contact, not for a second.
He walks the short distance to the couch and gently lowers you down onto it, settling between your legs as your breath hitches.
“They don’t get me like this,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. “Only you do.” He puts his lips against yours, pulling you in for a kiss. Then he trails down slowly, giving you kisses down your jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, making your breath hitch. One hand stays firm on your waist, the other slowly gliding down your side until it reaches your zipper.
You feel him pause there, his breath warm against your neck.
“You sure?” he whispers, voice low and sincere, all you do is nodding. He nods at your response and you feel his hands opening up your denim shorts, them being pulled off your legs. He leaves wet kisses on your thighs, and puts his thumb against the front panel of your panties. You let out a moan as his fingers moved in slow making deliberate circles on the fabric that grew wetter by the minute he touched you.
“Marshall..” you whimper, closing your eyes.
You let out a groan as you felt his fingers being pulled away, you opened your eyes again and saw him going over to the dresser. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. He coats his fingers first, ensuring they're slick. He goes back to you and then pulls your panties off and lets his fingers find your walls. He makes small circles, first, making sure you get all wet first. You whimper at the feeling of his fingers inside of your walls.
He smirks at the noises you make and decides to thrust in and out of your wet pussy. His touch makes you squeal beneath him.
“Fuck, baby, you’re doing so well…” He says as he pushes deeper, you gasp at the way you can feel all the juice coming out when he does that. His fingers move with a force that makes your entire body tremble. He pulls your top up, and you shiver as you feel his lips on your bare stomach. He leaves a trail of soft kisses, teasing you as he moves slowly up. When he reaches your breasts, he takes your nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it.
You let out moans at the feeling of his touch, meanwhile he’s licking your nipples he lets 3 fingers rubbing up and down at your clit, and then makes circles. You put your hands around his necks, pulling him inside for kisses. Now he’s just thrusting, causing you to break the kiss to moan, hearing the sound of his hands meeting your thigh.
"Oh my good Marshall” You squeal and your back arches as his fingers move deeper inside you, the sensation pulling a gasp from your lips.
"I can feel you trembling... Does that feel good, baby?"
All you can do is nod, your mind was focusing on his fingers inside of you, thrusting in and out. The sound of his hands meeting your thigh echoing through the room. He grabs your thighs with his other hands and pulls them wider apart, just to take a closer look and plays with your clit. Rubbing it up and down. Loving hearing you repeatedly moaning at his touch. You felt your body tensed, every muscle tightening. He grabbed your forehead to hold your body still.
“Marshall…” you moan and let out screams at the following thrusts.
He locked his gaze with yours, his hands gentle as they held you, feeling the tension build in your body. You gasped softly, the pleasure surging through you as everything inside of you seemed to tighten and release at once. As you shuddered, he slowly withdrew his fingers, his eyes following the trail of sensations as your body responded like a river. His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, and he smiled softly. 'I’ve got you,' he murmured, his voice low and steady, before he pressed his lips to yours.