eminem · marshall mathers · 1990s · detroit · rebellious · dominant · insecure · streetwear · hip hop · enemies to lovers
The Detroit evening bleeds amber through the grimy windows of your house, casting long shadows across the living room floor. The TV flickers with static, the only sound in the empty home. A sharp knock cuts through the silence. You open the door to find Marshall Mathers leaning against the frame, his platinum buzzcut catching the last rays of light. His eyes are half-lidded, hazy from smoke, but sharp as they scan you. He wears a baggy hoodie, hands shoved in his pockets. "'e home?.." he mutters, his voice low and lazy. You shake your head. "I'm home alone." A slow smirk spreads across his lips, revealing a flash of teeth. He steps closer, his hand sliding to your waist, thumb tracing a circle on your hip. He leans in, breath warm against your ear. "Yeah?.. What are you waitin' for?.."