Just a little Sugarless Gum pillow talk fluff fic (or something) inspired by a panel in the AT comic of little Marcy before she became a vampire. This isn't smut, but it isn't a totally innocent, fully-clothed walk in the park either.

I don't own Adventure Time.

Gray trails the soft ridge of pink, and Bonnibel's shoulder blade rolls under Marceline's touch. Bonnibel flexes some, stretches a little more, and cuddles herself deeper into the nest of pillows and sheets. The difference in heat is inviting—warm to cool to warm again—and the smaller woman lets out a fragmented sigh. Half of the princess's face is buried in fluff, even her head is turned away, but no doubt Marceline can sense a smile etch across full cherry blossom lips.

Speaking of lips, well... the vampire's mouth begins tracing the fine contour of Bonnibel's lower back. The princess decides she likes the feathery sway of black hair on her skin so much that she permits Marceline's trail of love bites. The little nibbles drag themselves up the pink plane of her body, and Bonnibel shivers from the prickly coolness of fangs. The vampire is at Bonnibel's shoulder now, and there she stops. Crimson eyes gaze down at a small lopsided diameter of discolored skin near the base of the princess's neck. Inside the gray ellipse are two smaller circles. Punctures. After brief inspection, Marceline kisses there, gently.

She lingers.

"Marcy, bist du noch hungrig?"

The vampire's stomach folds over and flips—Bonni knew how Marceline, even if it was a basic question, considered her German an unequivocal sex invite (dude, honestly!). So, she smirks. The answer is sultry, almost default:

"Depends on what, babe. You tell me." She curls herself onto her side, bolstered up by a sharp elbow. Adjacent to the princess's flat form, nimble fingers waltz up Bonnibel's spine. However, before the girl in question is able to list a customary string of suggestions, Marceline speaks. Her voice is casual. "Hey Bonni, ya know... my skin used to be kinda pink too."

Dark pink eyelashes flutter open. Bonnibel jolts, and Marceline chuckles a little. She shifts down closer to her ear.

"Weeeird, right?" She doesn't need to breathe, but she inhales once. Bonnibel tenses, feels the exhale on her neck. "Don't think too much on it though, brainlord—you dig thinking, I know, but you will end up with a headache."

The reminiscent bass line of Bonnibel's heart echoes. Marceline blinks—the pulse of the girl in her arms quickens. The bed shifts suddenly, and the taller girl complies to the movement.

The princess twists over onto her back. Pink eyebrows knit together, blue eyes question red. Marceline hooks her arm around the smaller girl anyway. Black hair shakes in feigned disappointment.

"Hey nerd, I told ya not to think, and there you go—"

At this time of the night, diplomacy is not needed. Shamelessly, Bonnibel interjects.

"You never mention your past, let alone with such nonchalance."

Gray fingers draw circles and triangles over pink ribs. A leisurely flash of fangs precede the response, "Heh, maybe I'm feeling generous. Maybe this time I'm actually feeling good."

Bonnibel huffs. Marceline tweaks an eyebrow.

"Are you telling me that you never feel good when we're together? This has only been, oh glob, like the nth time we've—"

The vampire had no diplomacy to begin with. She shuts the candy princess up with a firm, short kiss.

"Shush up, Bonni. I don't wanna get caught in your"—the vampire flexes her throat—"drrrama-bomb. I can only make it through so many, jeez."

Bonnibel would have been horrified by Marceline's joke, if not for her sucky, borderline distasteful LSP impression. The princess lets out a snort of laughter, and the vampire's lips curl.

Marceline continues.

"Sometimes it's too much to keep inside. Singin' it out only goes so far. No one has heard those songs... those are still in the vault. So punk, huh?" She clicks her tongue, "My skin was kinda like yours—well, no. More like Finn's. Darker than Finn's. Lighter than yours. I like to think I blushed the same, just less blue."

She trails off, and Bonnibel is left with the obvious underlaying thought:

Neither of them ever bring up the subject of pre-vampirization because she is just that: a vampire. Bonnibel will die someday, yet Marceline will still be. It is as simple as that. So simple...

Simplicity doesn't make it hurt any less.

Bonnibel pulls Marceline down. Lips meet and thin arms spider over the princess. Black hair hangs over them like a curtain. Hands roam.

"I was missing a molar."

Legs tangle. Ideas.

"My eyes were green."

Later, Bonnibel tries to imagine it. But... Marcy's red is just too deep.

Exactly 750 words, yo. I think I fell a little short towards the end, but oh well. This was originally posted on my Tumblr. Please review! Would be greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading :D

EDIT: "Marcy, bist du noch hungrig?" = "Marcy, are you still hungry?" (She's flirty, of course.)