FemSlash, Marceline/PB and a sexy dream. Enjoy.


Mixed signs

Bonnie says I`m dramatic and over sensitive.

That time, when she broke up with me, I tried to deny it. She said I just made her point cause I cried a bit and threw my bass across the room and turned into a demon.

(Pfff. C`mom, anyone would do the same if they knew advanced transfiguration techniques.)

I hate when she handles me like one of her lab experiments. But I couldn`t hate her even if I tried.

She says I`m stubborn and silly.

I just say I still like her, no matter what.

Last time I saw her I wasn`t sure if it was just my imagination. The signs she sent to me, I mean.

`Cause you know, after a thousand years you realize temptation makes you a compulsive liar. You shape the reality around you and convince yourself with thoughts and theories and plans that could hardly be true just to justify your desire and stupid actions in general. You see what you want to see.

Of course I know better than just jump on top of her and drink the red from her face and kiss her lips. - Not that I don`t want to, I admit, but a little self-control and the fact she avoids me helps keeping me cool.

Yesterday was different.

I was around. She saw me. We hang up.

Bonnie was wearing lipstick and had her hair held in a ponytail on the top of her head. She was looking gorgeous.

"Did you cut your hair?" I let the question run from my mouth before my brain could tell it wasn`t a safe thing to ask.

Last time I ask her that, she rolled her eyes angrily, remarked I was not supposed to be there and yelled she didn`t change the length of it in the last four hundred years - all that was an accident. Then took a fire extinguisher that had the color of her face.

She`s kinda sensitive about the matter, I suppose. Or I just choose the wrong moment to float into the castle and ask that - her lab had exploded for some reason and Peppermint butler was on fire - just like her pink locks a few moments before I arrive.

Well, we`ll never know.

What I know is that this time she smiled at me.

"No, still the same, see? I just made some curls."

She looked into my eyes for a few more moments than she usually did. I stared back. She looked away.

We played this game all afternoon, in the middle of our talking. When I was the first to fix my eyes on her, she never let them met for more than a second. When she stared at me first the cycle continued.

She kept smiling. She called me Marcy.

And she touched me. She hugged me and grabbed my arm to show me Finn and Jake fighting a monster in the other side of the hill. She lightly slapped me in the shoulder when she called me silly. But when I tried to touch her back, hold her hand, Bonnie became defensive, as I was getting the wrong message.

What message I`m supposed to get here, by the way? All this mixed signs makes me confused.

Could she...?

Should I ...?

The way she look at me.

The way she push me back.

My insides are on fire.

That night I made a song for her. I let my fingers run through the bass and the words skip in the rhythm until I had sent my temptation away. Cleared all the paths in which I just kissed her, she kissed me back and nothing odd between us occur. The ones the pushing back didn`t exist.

Then I slept.

And she appeared.

Bonnie was wearing a short skirt. I could see her legs and her arms, but her neck was hidden by her hair.

Slowly she moved the mass of pink locks away and grabbed my hands, inviting me to touch her.

She said she was mine.

With her breasts pressed against my own I could feel the red pulsing under her skin, sweet as her perfume. Her scent always made me wet, and this is how I find her when I put my hand between her legs, slipping my fingers under the lace of her panties.

She asked me to bite her.

She asked me to move faster.

And I did it. She moaned lightly in my ear when my fangs pierced her throat and the sweetness found my tongue. I didn`t have to worry about stopping. No matter how much I drank from her, Bonnie never became grey or faint. She was livid and moving her hips while I rubbed and probed her.

I never wanted to wake up.

But I did.

I look into the ceiling, feeling my heart beat fast.

Feeling the tension inside me.

Temptation says I should talk to Bonnie. For the old times, you know. What could go wrong?

What if she didn`t mean all that when we split?

What if.

Reason says I should calm down and stay cool around her. I`m probably getting it wrong.

Probably.

At that time Bonnie gave up on me because she`s so damn rational.

I never gave up on her for the opposite reason.

My heart is filled with temptation.


Oh, Marcy, it`s a trap. But...what if?
First time writing FemSlash. Hope is not that bad.