disclaimer: I do not own Adventure Time or make any profit from this series.
It was another early morning, and Bubblegum yawned, stretching her arms out as she gingerly lifted her legs out from under the blankets and nudged her large backside to the edge of the bed, blinking for a few moments before the faint haze of awakening left her.
She always woke up quickly; often this was an asset to her, and she had learned to do so after long periods of sleepless work and extremely delicate missions that required her to be functional immediately after waking up.
Behind her, Finn was already awake, though he yawned loudly. She looked over and smiled fondly as he raised his arms up, fists clenched loosely without even a hint of wariness. He looked so sweet and innocent, very little like the knight serving under her (and it took a moment for the possible innuendo to occur to her, and she giggled slightly with a sly grin at how very accurate that was), and for a moment she entertained a daydream that she was only a scientist who delved into mysterious ruins for hints of the sacred mysteries of natural philosophy, and that he was simply the boy she loved and kept in her home because it was more convenient then the occasional booty call or going up to his house.
It passed; things were what they were. She was a princess who had responsibilities to the kingdom she had accidentally created ages ago, and he was a wild-boy that killed evil things and people for the sake of his self-appointed crusade. That they had been friends at all was a testament to their wishes that things could be otherwise, to say nothing of being lovers, but oh she was grateful to him for it.
Bubblegum pajamas, the t-shirt Marceline had given her years ago, was loose and baggy on her curvy wide-hipped frame, which suited her fine. She tilted a hip as she glanced back at Finn, the plain fabric of her own undergarments just barely visible. As she calculated, Finn noticed and saw, and blushed terribly bright. She giggled, raising an eyebrow challengingly. It was simply their way; a constant competition of friendly one-upmanship, because it was just fun to do it like that.
Finn looked back at her. For a moment, with his hat gone and his hair down (leaving him positively girlish, and she suddenly had an urge to get him back under the sheets and enjoy each other's company in that most physical of ways) and wearing a t-shirt identical to her own though five sizes too big, the hem somewhere below his knees, he looked so tiny and... and... cute. Big and plump, he looked like he might just back down and roll on his back to whimper defeat, just like the boys in the pseudo-autobiographical novels she wrote under a pseudonym.
She was a little startled, then, when Finn sat up straight, the top of his head just barely even with the lower slopes of her bust. She resisted a powerful urge to pull him into her lap and... toy with him, play with the delicious possibilities that his lovable body offered. He grinned, the scar on his cheek startlingly pale against his ruddy skin, and tried to flex. "C'mon, Peebs," he said, his smile lacking a few teeth and that made him all the more enticing. "You know you want the F-package!"
Bubblegum giggled again. "The what?"
"The F-package! The Finn package! C'mon!" He flexed again, his sleeves folding down to his shoulders, a tangled mess of black against his light skin. "I know it, you know it; you got the love-munchies for Eff-Tee-Aitch!"
'Oh dear,' she thought with another giggle. 'Flame Princess' vocabulary has done terrible things to your style!'. Out loud, she smiled slyly, the corner of her lip tilted up. "You don't say," she said slowly, pulling herself back on the bed to face him completely, bracing herself up by her hands and knees, and her thick thighs coming together with the distinctive sound of candy biomass that approximated human flesh.
Finn held the pose, found in old movies of barbarians doing stupidly heroic things that he had clearly taken to heart. "I do say! I don't know what I say, but I'm totes saying it, Peebs!"
She giggled, voice throaty and full of a rich meaningfulness, and slowly paced over to him, like a hungry cougar on the prowl for choice prey that knew not the danger it was in. Her backside swayed as she moved, and she was totally conscious of her every movement, slowly advancing upon Finn, her shadow moving over his and swallowing it whole as she stopped just in front of him, the neckline of her shirt low enough just to show the beginnings of her bountiful cleavage, just as she calculated.
"Oh," she said breathily. "I know."
Finn faltered, just a bit. Bubblegum felt a sense of... power, she supposed, at it. She was not a large woman, but she was tall and certainly voluptuous, and even on all fours like this she towered over her Finn, and the bravado in his voice was leaking away as he said, "Uh... uh... yeah, I know! That's... yeah, that's what I was going for." He giggled, nervously.
She laughed gently; not a giggle, but the full-blown lover's laugh of a grown woman fully in control of the situation and perfectly aware of it. She leaned to Finn's face, and saw a brief flash of total uncertainty, the basic urge to submit there, and her lips found the broad tip of his noise, kissing him there with a faint suckling noise, like a single kiss could draw out his essence.
"You are definitely my knight," she said, and her palm came up and met his cheek, cupping his face. She stroked him, one finger going behind his ear and scratching lazily. "My knight, all mine. And you most certainly enjoy your place, don't you?" She leaned in, and whispered, "Serving under me."
Finn's cheeks brightened. "Princess!" He blurted, bluster forgotten.
She giggled, sitting up and leaning back. "Why, serving under my command, of course! What else could I mean?" Her smile was wide and seemingly innocent, but her eyes were narrowed with smug certainty.
He pouted and flexed again. She giggled and put her hands against one arm, and it was slender enough that she could put one hand all the way around. His arms were thick, yes, but much skinnier than seemed natural for his body type, and their muscle was wiry instead of bulky (as Finn seemed to believe was natural), and even flexing it hardly bulged at all, seemingly indistinct from the fat of his limbs.
She cooed and kissed him on the wrist. Finn giggled helplessly, and she pulled him onto her lap. He didn't resist, and she didn't think he could have. For a moment, that gave her pause, and she worried that she might be taking advantage of him. Finn's backside, large and well-shaped, settled easily against her groin and the meet of her thighs, and feeling his warmth against her, doubt left her. Her hand settled against his soft midsection, squeezing, and she made a small feminine noise as he unconsciously moved against her.
"You," she said, hugging him like he was one of her candy people. "Are just too cute!"
"I'm not cute, I'm a total badbutt!" Finn insisted. He flexed again, making different poses and moving against her. She made soft noises, and this seemed to encourage Finn that he was exciting her, and he was but not for the reasons he imagined.
Finn rolled off her. Striking a different tactic. he assumed a position similar to Bubblegum's; on all fours, braced by hands and knees. His long hair sloughed to one side of his shoulder, cascading down and draping one slim arm. He tilted his head up at her, his nightshirt pulled up and the beginnings of a broad hip exposed under there. He grinned. "C'mon, Peebs. You know ya like it."
She giggled, and it struck her that Finn was actually small for his age, small for a boy, just plain small. He acted big, he talked big, he shouted big, he fought like he was ten times bigger, he was big in every way except for actually being nearly half her size. He looked adorably ridiculous, like that, and she could resist no more and tackled him headlong.
They rolled on her huge bed, rolling around, and wrestling for dominance. His hands were everywhere upon her softness; his hands were small and strong, and the combination made for lovely touches upon her bust, and she rammed her hips into him, stopping him with a startled gasp, and she rolled them over, and he was flat on her back and she was straddling him, her powerful thighs locked firmly around his soft belly.
She giggled at his wide-eyed expression of shock. "You're a goof," she said, smiling. "And I just love that. C'mere, you!"
She slid her hips down, locking them into place against his own set. Her body came to rest against his, lying against his smaller and equally soft body, and as her breasts found the top of his head and he was locked under her, she whispered, "I knew you liked serving under me."
Finn's soft and needful squeals were all the affirmation she needed.
