A/N: A request for 'smut fluff' (1. Noun, a story in which there is sweet afterglow after righteous sex, 2. Verb, the act of being sweet during afterglow after righteous sex) was thrown out into the internet from Sugarless Gum. And I un-crumpled that shit and wrote it up.
-O-
Like a sea calming after a storm, the sheets rippled down and around them with a whirl of wings.
The covers stilled, landing on her skin and stuck there by sweat. Her blood hummed in her veins, whisked forward under the hand cupping her chest, the fingers splayed on the hollow of her neck.
That palm slides up her nape, nails tenderly threading through her hair to her scalp. The other hand curls behind her ear, thumbs sweeping.
And Marceline pulls her rosy head down to hers, her face tilting up to nuzzle their noses, their cheeks and foreheads. Their hair pools together, the rocker's splayed like limp wings across the pillows, black like an oil spill under the thick pink strands.
Bonnibel lets her body fall limp and down. Their chests meet, then their stomachs and hips. All the while, Marceline kisses the corner of her lip.
A hungry notion for attention, a nose burying into her cheek. And Bubblegum smiles, turning to give her all she wants and more.
The frantic need had been sated. The push and pull was burnt out.
This kiss is quiet and soft and sweet and gentle. Everything in the room even seemed softer.
Although her back dully stung where Marceline had scratched.
Her pink hands contrasted against the vampire's pale skin. They stroke the sides of her face, her temple, her cheek bones. And Marceline's lashes flutter close, her hands sliding down to settle on the curves of the princess's waist.
"That was good," murmurs Bonnibel, and one velvet red eye opens, a smile blooming beneath it.
"Very good," the queen purrs. She pulls the princess's palm to her mouth for a kiss, teeth grazing her life lines.
"Mhmm," Bonnibel sighs, shifting lower so that her feet press to the tops of Marceline's. The girl below her raises them up in response, as if balancing the princess.
"You know," Marceline said, voice lulling where Bonnibel's ear rests on her chest, "you always smell really sweet after. Like I baked you or something."
"Baked me?" Bubblegum snorts, giggling. She lifts her head just enough to eye the girl below her.
"And now you're ready to eat," the queen snickers, nibbling her jaw. Bubblegum squirmed a bit with an open mouthed laugh, the blankets rustling around them.
"You don't seem to have any problem eating me raw," the princess managed, poking the lean ribs beneath her. "You're going to get pudgy."
"Well, that's why you make me cook hard," Marceline said, rolling her hips, and Bubblegum was now in a severe storm of giggling. It pried at the vampire's lips, her own stomach giving away to brief shakes of laughter.
"Oh my Gob, Bonnie, it's not even funny."
"I can't breathe!" Bubblegum hissed breathlessly (duh). "You're like an easy bake oven!"
"Are you calling me easy?" Marceline said through gritted teeth, but she tickled the girl's sides until Bonnibel collapsed over and couldn't laugh anymore, yanking on her wrists for mercy
"You're cute when you're all red," the vampire murmured, nipping the princess's nose. "Tasty, too."
And Bonnibel was always adorable, but even more so now.
Messy hair free of any crown, green eyes playful under half lids. Moving without a care of what Marceline saw of her naked skin, saying silly things, laughing too hard at silly things.
Freed from the pressure to be prim in their private space, but still so elegant.
She could say that too, but the queen just smiles. And Bonnibel smiles back before she succumbs to a yawn, snuggling up under Marceline's arm.
"Roll over," she requests sleepily, gently scrunching her fingers on the vampire's tummy.
"Geez, you still hot n' bothered?" Marceline responded, quirking a brow with a wink. And even though she was absolutely spent, Bubblegum still felt a flutter in her thighs.
No one was exaggerating when they called her a sexy vampire lady. They just weren't really allowed to.
"No, you perv, turn around."
The older girl did, feeling Bubblegum sweep her long dark hair over her shoulder. An arm snaked under her head, another one wrapping around her belly. A pair of hips cradled her rear, breasts against her back, knees tucking neatly behind hers.
"I don't hold you very often," Bubblegum murmured into her ear, kissing just behind it. "I really should."
"Bonnibel," Marceline whispered. Her grey fingers found the pink ones curled on her side, and they slipped between another.
Not just sexy, but utterly adorable when she let her guard down. A vulnerable girl underneath the fangs and random wolf faces, willing to listen but too shy to speak, communicating with tender smiles and soft kisses instead. Embarrassed whenever she was called out on feeling something, more playful than mischievous.
And Bonnibel could say it.
But she smiles instead.