A Series of Unexpected Events
A Mashall Lee and Fiona Fanfic
By: werewolf6780
I, obviously, don't own Adventure Time or anything.
Warning: Full of fluffy lemony deliciousness
Also turned out with a lot more adorableness than I first intended
I recommend you use Google Translate (Latin) on all words in bold
Fiona was sitting under a tree, right outside her house. She muttered darkly and sipped her juice box. She was tired and upset. Her legs especially hurt. She had to wrestle a giant dragon fish earlier and then come home to find a note on the door saying:
Fiona,
Sorry babe but Lord Monochromicorn wanted to come over…its best if you stay somewhere else tonight. I'll make it up to you I promise! I hope your monster fight went well P.S. Don't stay with anyone you don't trust. Oh and I left you a snack!
Lots of love,
Cake
There was a cookie and a juice box under the note.
Just boom, kicked out of her house. Prince gumball would have happily welcomed her but he was away for some royal schmooze business with the lemongrabs. Nasty lemon people. She could sleep in a cave she supposed. Or, if things got really bad, break into Ice Queen's lair and hide there until tomorrow. She might even be able to fight her. But she was tired. She finished her juice box and sighed. She threw it on the ground and went to go find a cave. After about thirty minutes she found a cave, but there was a frog and his wife in there. And she didn't want to be around for that. She walked some more. In a small hole, there was a fox, sleeping with his girl. She looked happy. The fox growled quietly and shooed her off before his girl fox woke. She huffed and sat on a rock. She was really tired now. And hungry.
"Ugh stupid Cake needing her LM time. Ugh."
She looked up at the sky, which quickly covered with dark clouds, burst forth lightning, and began to pelt her with rain.
"Great gloobing Glob! Can't anything go right today?!"
Now it was late, she was cranky and tired, and hungry, and cold and wet!
"Hey. Why are you out in the rain?" a voice said – seemingly emerging from nowhere
"What?! Who's there?!" Fiona yelled.
She stood up, thunder rumbling in her ears, lightning arched across the sky providing just enough light for a flash of recognition to her rain pelted vision. It was a large bat, with inhuman red eyes. Demon eyes.
"Marshall?" she called out uncertainly.
He jumped in front of her, dripping and just as wet as she.
"In the bat flesh. So, why are you in the rain? Especially on a night like this."
"Cake kicked me out to be with LM. I was trying to find a place to crash when this storm hit. What do you mean on a night like this anyway?"
"Well, for one, all this rain is going to turn into ice and snow soon. All of Aaa will be snowed in for three days. And because I'm hunting before the winter hits."
"Whats a winter?" She asked, a puzzled expression on her face.
He rolled his eyes.
"Never mind. You can crash at my place. Ugh. Guess its apples for me. I'm so sick apples. They're just not the right tenor of red. Well don't just stand there!" he muttered and grabbed her.
"What the?! Not cool dude! Put me down!"
"And leave you in the rain? You'll freeze to death tonight, especially being drenched like you are." Fiona didn't really mind going with him – she was fairly sore and cold enough that even a cave would be a welcome shelter.
"Fine." She agreed.
So, after a rather wet flight, they arrive at Marshall Lee's cave, where he reforms into a black wolf, and shakes like a wet dog – further drenching Fiona. "Hey! What the Glob?" Fiona complains at the now reformed – and dripping – Marshall Lee.
"What? My cave. My rules. Hungry?" He asks seemingly bored and completely relaxed as he leans against the wall.
"Ummm…yeah. Starved actually. I haven't had a real meal since breakfast." Fiona murmurs.
Marshall pushes himself from the wall and walks towards the back of his cave waving a hand in the air
"Then follow me. Hope you like apples." Without bothering to check and see if she complies. She follows him to a small room full of barrels of ripened red apples. He sat on the circular stone table, leaving the solitary chair to her.
"Take your pick." He mutters, resting his cheek in his palm. She picks three apples and sits. She's about to take a bite when a thought occurs to her.
"Wait, aren't you going to drink the red from it?" she asks him. He smiled and cut an X in her apple with his nail.
"No thanks Blondie. I'm sick of apples. Now if you don't mind, I'm going hunting for something to better suit my tasssstesssss." He murmurs, his forked tongue flicking out and lightly licking the X he made which then sizzles and turns black, rotting the apple. Fiona throws the apple away, disgusted. Marshall pops his neck and knuckles and turns into his bat form, his eyes ever more red.
"Wait! You mean like you're gonna go get some strawberries or something right?" Fiona asks
Marshall turns around and smiles "What do you think? No, it has been long enough. I need to kill something. This heart hasn't beat in too long. It's been far too long since I tasted a life fluttering on my tongue before it is extinguished." He murmurs, snapping his teeth and spreading his wings.
"No!" she screams and grabs his leg, throwing herself onto the ground.
"I can't let you go and kill people! That's wrong!" Fiona screams.
Marshall turns around and reforms into himself. "Oh is that so? And how do you intend to stop me?" he growls, looking down to Fiona. Fiona gets up and goes to pull her sword…but it's not there!
"Wha-" she murmurs, and begins to go through her backpack.
"No…I know I didn't leave it in the dragon fish…" she looks up to see Marshall laughing – and holding her sword.
"Hey!" Fiona yells, her cheeks flushing in anger.
"I got it from your pack when I picked you up. I figured you would try to defend yourself."
"Why you rotten conniving…wait…defend myself? From what?"
Marshall smiled.
"Well…I knew you wouldn't let me go out there again. You're too good to accept me killing someone. So, I figured that if you won't let me go…" Marshall stalks up to Fiona, entrancing her with his eyes, and grabs her arms, flitting her onto the kitchen wall. "Oof!" Fiona huffs, having the breath knocked out of her. "…so you won't mind if I take you then!" Marshall hisses, baring his fangs.
"What? No! No!" Fiona yells, squirming. She pushes him off and runs towards the door – only to have it slam shut a breath away.
"What?" she turns only to see Marshall chuckling.
"You didn't really think I would let you get away, did you? I'm just getting you a little riled up. After all, a fearful heart makes the blood all the better!" he snarled, jumping towards her.
"Damn!" Fiona squeaked, dodging him. She looked around, searching for a weapon…the chair! She lunged, grabbing the stone chair. It was damned heavy, but it would do – at least for a shield.
"Ha! This will be interessssting." Marshall hissed, lunging at her. Fiona pushed him back with the chair. He lunged again, and she pushed him back. This went on for about fifteen minutes, until Marshall stepped back, smiling placidly.
"What…are you…smiling…at…?" Fiona huffed.
"You're wearing down, love…" he murmured, circling her.
"Your arms are shaking and your knees are weak. You can hardly stand on your own two feet. Look at you, so docile and meek. Soon I'll taste your hearts last…fleeting…beat." He purred. Fiona hung her head and shook it vigorously, keeping the chair up by sheer force of will.
"No. No I won't let you…"
"Love, You've got no choice." He murmured, wrenching the chair away from her and pinning her against the cold table. He snarled down at her.
"No no no no…" Fiona whispered, too tired now to even speak another word. As fearful as she was, she was simply too tired to fight anymore.
"Shhh…shhh…" Marshall cooed.
"You'll be just fine…rest…rest now…" he cooed, sliding his tongue against her neck.
"You taste like rain…and heat." He murmured in her ear. Fiona groaned. Too exhausted speak.
"It won't hurt…no pain…no pain…" he breathed against her neck, rubbing his cheek against her pulse. She shivered. Marshall paused and murmured,
"You're still drenched aren't you? I forget that your kind feel the cold." He murmured, carrying her in his arms. He floated her to the bathroom and laid her on the rock-tiled floor. She curled into a ball, shaking. Her teeth began to chatter. He walked over to the shower and turned it on, made sure the water was at the right temperature, and gathered some towels. One, he lay on the floor so she wouldn't slip. He sat her up on the toilet and removed her rabbit eared hat, her shoes, her stockings. He stood there, with his hands braced on either side of her nuzzling her neck, letting the now lightened scent graze his senses, before placing his hands on her hips. He slid his fingers under the hemline of her shirt and whispered
"I used to wonder what color your underwear you wore. I figured they were white when I first met you. Then I wondered if you wore any at all," he chuckled
"I suppose it's better to find out late than never." He peeled off her shirt slowly, grazing her sides with his fingers, and threw it into the pile. He stared for a moment before chuckling
"black lace. That's rather pleasantly surprising." He lifted her up with one arm and unzipped her skirt with the other. He stood there like that for five minutes, reveling in the feeling of her pressed against him, before sliding her skirt off. She shivered and breathed a single word.
"Marshall…" she chattered, shivering. He froze.
"Um…yes?"
"Cold." She murmured pressing herself against him. He hissed in a breath and tried to steady his tone.
"Well you'll be warm once I get you in the shower alright?" he grunted as he unclasped her bra and slid the straps down her shoulders.
"Sweet Lucifer…" Marshall whispered, unable to tear his eyes away from her exposed flesh. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply, shaking his head slowly as he exhaled. He cut through her panties and sat her in the shower, keeping his eyes firmly shut. She gasped at the sudden shock of heat on her frigid skin. She sat just as he placed her, shaking, wither her chin resting on her knees, her arms and hands limp at her sides.
"Oh for the love of all that's unholy…" Marshall muttered, stripping off his plaid jacket shirt and black tank. He kicked of his shoes and pulled off his pants. After thinking for a bit, he went to his room and rooted around in his dresser until he found his swim trunks. He stripped off his boxers and pulled on his swim trunks before returning to the bathroom. Fiona hadn't moved, though she was shaking more. He sighed, stepped into the shower, and slid the black shower curtain closed. He breathed in the steam, trying to calm his racing mind. He pulled Fiona up and wrapped his arms around her. She was shivering violently.
"Shh…you're ok…the shaking is just your body trying to create more heat. Your fine…" he murmured, nuzzling her collarbone and reaching behind her to turn another knob. Water jetted from three spouts in the ceiling, drenching them both in the warmth. She gasped sharply and pressed herself against him at the deluge. He hissed a breath from between his fangs.
"Damn Fiona…" he growled, clenching her to him.
"Happy now?" he growled. Her only response was a soft sigh. Marshall grumbled and began pulling small pieces of leaves out of her bangs. He felt her nuzzle his shoulder, zinging electricity through his body. He grumbled and began to lather shampoo into her hair. She sniffed, resting her head against him and murmured
"Smells like sandalwood. Warm…" Marshall cleared his throat.
"Uh…yeah well, it was the one scent you didn't complain about." He teased.
"Mmm…" Fiona murmured. He began to lather her hair, adding more shampoo as needed and rinsing before adding conditioner.
"You've got a lot of hair…" Marshall murmured "but so little on your body…" he murmured, licking her wrist, and sliding his hand up the underside of her arm to her armpit and down her side, ending with his hand resting against the side of her thigh. He listened to the sound of her heartbeat, increasing its tempo. She was breathing harder. He growled softly, feeling her muscles tense and shake. "Your legs can hardly support you. You're so…vulnerable." He murmured. He sighed, shook his head, and started washing out the conditioner from her hair.
"I'm not weak." She muttered.
He snorted "No, you're just so damn hard headed that a giant goldfish would run in fright for fear that you would head-butt it." He grumbled, running his fingers through her now soft hair. She didn't say anything, but he felt her smile against his shoulder. He sighed and was about to step out to grab a towel, but Fiona pulled him back.
"Your turn." She whispered and began to run her fingers through his hair. At first, he was stiff and didn't move. But slowly, she felt his muscles relax as she lathered shampoo in his hair, grazing his scalp with her nails. It wasn't long before a sort of humming that seemed akin to a vibration began to emanate from him. She rinsed his hair and glanced at his face. His expression was lax, his mouth open in a little o, his eyes at half-mast, occasionally blinking very slowly. She began to spread the conditioner through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.
"Are…um…are you purring?" she asked hesitantly, unsure of his reaction. His only response was a slow blink, followed by a slick hug. They stood there, with their arms wrapped around each other until she murmured, "we should probably rinse the conditioner out of your hair…" to which his only response was an increase in the humming noise. She stepped back slightly from his arms and began to run her fingers through his hair, rinsing the conditioner from it. The humming stopped. "There. All done." She murmured quietly. He reached for her side and turned her, so that her back was to him and she was facing the shower wall. She felt his arms snake around her, crushing her to him.
"Uh…Marshall…?" she whispered, uncertainly.
She felt him push her long hair over her shoulder and murmur "So soft…" as he nuzzled her shoulder.
"You smell so lovely…," he murmured breathing deeply at her neck. Marshall slid his tongue up the side of her neck, making the sweet smell of her anxiety, mingled with the warm scent of her embarrassment, spike into a sweetness akin to fear.
"Marshall…?!" Fiona's voice pierced his ears, ringing with alarm. He felt her twist in his arms, trying to either escape or see his expression. Regardless, he tightened his grip and breathed in the cloying scent of her, her personal musk overridden by the aroma of her fear. He licked her neck again, making her tremble. He could feel her body heat sinking into him. He could smell both of them; their scents intermingled in the steam. He grazed his fangs over her shoulder, feeling her tremble and cringe. He slid his tongue from her neck to her cheek and cooed,
"No pain…no pain…" as he kissed her neck lightly. He could hear her heart pounding, the blood rushing in her veins like a song of redemption with the promise of peace, the promise to end the loneliness in his aching soul. He placed his teeth lightly over her artery, and felt his teeth sink in. He felt the artery pop at the pressure, making the sweet red spray the top of his mouth with euphoria. He let out a moan as he latched to her, sucking the red from her, making her ever paler. She writhed in his arms, struggling kicking, fighting…until finally, he felt her heart. He heard the quiet rush of her blood, the gentle pulse of her heart pulling at his own. His chest lit with a burning agony before quivering with the first beat…and then the second. The third beat was pure ecstasy. He felt sensations wrack his body, the limp girl in his arms, soft, pliant, but still warm. He felt the cooling water sting his overly sensitized skin. He felt his hair dripping onto his neck, and he could feel the moisture condensing in the air. Pleasure at her proximity fueled his body, making him moan. He could feel her, and consequently his, heartbeat slowing…stuttering…he groaned, desperate to keep the sensations her heart caused him. He sucked harder, trying to draw out that last little flutter of life, of joy, of ecstasy…
"Gah…" he gasped and pulled his teeth from her neck, licking the wound and flipping her over, pressing his ear to her chest, waiting…hoping… "No, no, no, no…" he whispered. He strained his hearing…bu…bump…bu bump…a faint heartbeat. She was alive. He hadn't killed her. He breathed a sigh of relief, and reached over her to turn off the chilled water. He floated her out of the shower and wrapped her and her hair in a towel. He dried his own hair briefly and stripped off his dripping swim trunks, wrapping a towel around his waist before carrying Fiona to his bedroom. He laid her on the bed, pulled the covers down and covered her. He sighed and looked out the window. Dawn's pale light was just beginning. "Ugh." He muttered as he closed the blinds and tied the curtains shut. He rubbed his face and peeked through his fingers down at Fiona. She looked dead. Her lips were the faintest pink, her skin pallid, the blue of her veins easily showing the sluggish pulse of her heart. Marshall groaned.
"Dammit." He walked to the front of his cave and pulled the thick lichen across the opening, and then slid the bars across the opening to dissuade anyone if they did push aside the lichen. He sighed and looked at the couch. His zombie cat, Mortuus, was fast asleep. The last time he had tried to move the damn cat it had tried to claw out his eyes.
"Lovely." He muttered. He walked into the kitchen and filled Mortuus' bowl (a hollowed out demon skull) full of souls and refilled his liquefied brain matter bowl. He yawned, stretched, and rubbed his eyes. "Ugh. Fiona is going to kill me. Ah well. I might as well die happy." He muttered and returned to his bedroom. He rooted around on the messy floor until he found an oversized flannel shirt. He undid Fiona's towel and slid on the shirt. He buttoned it and removed the towel from her hair. He threw the towels, including his own on the floor, and pulled on some pajama pants. Then he slithered onto his bed, under the covers, and snuggled into Fiona's side before drifting off, for the first time in eight hundred years, peacefully, to sleep.
Fiona felt like she was floating. She was surrounded in warmth; a hazy golden light was all around her…she could hear angels, just above her, singing a soothing melody. She felt as if light had pervaded her body, so that she felt weightless. She closed her eyes, reveling in the euphoria and soft warmth…but slowly, the light seemed a bit sharper…harsher…she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. She didn't want the feeling to end…but slowly, she felt a bed underneath her, and a dampened pillow against her cheek. She sighed and opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was that it was dark and freezing! Her face was nearly numb from the cold. She shivered and rolled to her side, curling up to conserve some warmth. She shivered. She shut her eyes, wishing she could return to the place of warmth…warmth…warm. Wet. She sat up in the bed. She wasn't at her home. It was cold because of the snowstorm. Marshall had…Marshall! She gasped and flailed her hands beside her until she found a lamp. She took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and twisted the switch – flooding the room with an eerie green light. She opened her eyes slowly, adjusting them, and looked around. She was on a bed with black covers and sheets, and white pillows. The walls were a rock that glittered like onyx. The bedside table, and lamp for that matter, looked to be mad out of bone, with the lampshade appearing to be a thin layer of skin stretched over long, thin bones. She shuddered and looked over at Marshall. He was breathing gently and shaking, despite the fact that he was curled in a ball. He looked very…exposed…with his hair out of his eyes. All he had on, as far as she could tell, was dark grey pajama bottoms. She frowned and scooted over to him, wanting to warm him up, until she saw what she was wearing, or more appropriately, what she wasn't wearing. All she had on was a short sleeved button down shirt…that looked eerily similar to Marshall's, being black and red plaid. She hissed a breath through her teeth.
"What in Glob's name happened last night?" she muttered, beginning to feel panic rising in her. She rubbed her eyes and muttered "come on…come on…think, Fiona…" wet! He'd put her in the…in the shower…she looked down at herself as her cheeks burned. "Oh Glob…" she squealed, shutting her eyes and rocking back and forth, hugging her knees.
"Dammit….ok well, it could have been worse right…right?" Fiona tentatively got up and went to the bathroom to find her clothes. She found the bathroom…but her clothes were soaked, including her bra. She managed to find her panties, which were a bit off to the side and mostly dry…though they had been ripped into three different shreds.
"Damn stupid demonic freaking vam- oh shit!" Fiona ran over to the mirror and turned her head…sure enough. There were two neat puncture marks on her neck. He must have bitten her hard because there was a slight bruising around the wound. She grumbled and looked at herself in the full-length mirror, unbuttoning the shirt. She had a small bruise on her side that she bet would fit the contours of Marshall's hand perfectly.
"Great, just great." She grumbled, re-buttoning the shirt and walking back into Marshall's bedroom. She looked around again. There was nothing adorning the walls. The only ornament in the entire room was the bedside table and lamp on her side of the bed. The bed itself didn't even have a headboard. It was just three mattresses stacked on top of each other. She sighed and walked back through the hall to his sparse living room. There was a hat hanging on a peg by the grey couch, but other than that, the walls were unadorned. An old bookcase, which looked like it had been in a fire at one point, and had five books on it. She walked over and read the titles, more out of curiosity than anything. All the books looked very old, but the first seemed to have been freshly bound in leather, though the pages were yellowed with age. The spine of the first book didn't have a title. The next book had a bunch of little slips of paper sticking out of the top.
The title read "Vampires: Truth or Myth?" Fiona shook her head. The next book was green and titled "How to cook a Virgin: a tale of losing one thing and gaining another" Fiona shuddered. The next book was in a black binding with gold letters that, though smudged, were visible. It read "Into the Darkness: Accepting yourself" and the last book, which was by far the oldest on the shelf (and the thickest) read "The Vampire Chronicles: A complete collection by Anne Rice".
Fiona shook her head, sighed, and walked into the kitchen. She found a small pack of crackers, a can of tomato paste, an empty box of cereal, half a loaf of "Orci panem", ten cans of something called "Animae: For the Undead Pet's Complete Sustenance" in the cabinets. In the refrigerator, she found three strawberries, two bottles of water, a carton of bug juice (commonly used to summon demons and open portals to the Nightosphere), a half empty carton of blood orange juice, four green and purple spotted eggs, and fifteen jars of "Unde apparet ingenium non bibi : A vital nutrient for your undead pet". What freaking pet did he have? A zombie? She sighed and shut the fridge. At least there were still three barrels of apples. She shook her head, grabbed an apple, and went to the living room. She sat on the couch and began to eat her apple, wondering how the hell she was going to get her clothes dry when Marshall apparently lacked a washer or dryer and it was storming snow like it was the new sunshine outside. She leaned her head back. "What the hell got into me last night? What the hell is wrong with me? I must be the only girl in all of Aaa to willingly go to a vampire's lair. Great…just…great. She sighed again and threw her hands down…one of which landed on something furry that jumped.
"Agh!" She squeaked. A long haired grey cat stood up, stretched, and looked at her with pale yellow eyes. It licked its lips and sniffed her intently. Fiona stayed perfectly still. The cat looked her up and down, studying her face with an eerie intelligence until it seemed to see what it wanted. It stared into her eyes, blinked slowly, crawled onto her lap, and began to purr very quietly. Fiona touched its fur tentatively…but the cat showed no reaction other than to increase the volume of its purring. She began to pet the cat, whose fur was surprisingly soft and shiny. Soon she was drifting off…
Marshall drifted up from his deep rest…and immediately sensed that he was alone. He gripped the comforter tightly and slowly opened his eyes. He felt his breath catch when he saw she wasn't next to him. He turned his head away and slowly rose up and got off the bed. "I'm not disappointed." He whispered to the air. He breathed in slowly.
"I'm fine. I'm a lone wolf. A one-man pack. I don't need some little bed warmer to comfort me when the demons come calling. I do what I always do. I rip their fucking throats out and eat their offspring." He forced a smile and floated to the bathroom. Her clothes were still there. He swallowed.
"She wouldn't have gone into the storm without her clothes…she doesn't hate me that much…does she?" He swallowed "Did she?" He flitted back to his bedroom and untied the curtains. Black. The window was blocked by snow.
"No she can't have left…not in the storm…she wouldn't have…" he flitted to the hall and sniffed. Her scent was about an hour old. If she was out in the storm, she wouldn't be dead…yet. He flitted around the corner, intending to check the door, when he saw her on the couch, curled up on one cushion with none other than Mortuus himself. The damn thing was curled up on her lap, purring for Lucifer's sake! He breathed out slowly, trying to stifle a chuckle. He breathed out slowly, smothering the chuckle before it burst from him. He floated silently over to her, leaned down so that his lips just brushed her shoulder and whispered "I think he likes you." She jerked at his voice and gasped
"Oh Glob! Marshall?" He breathed deeply, but couldn't detect any fear, just a drowsy sort of her personal musk. He breathed a sigh of relief and kissed her shoulder.
"You're still a bit pale. How are you feeling?" He felt her tense up and push him back roughly, making him take a couple steps back. Mortuus jumped from her lap with a hiss in his direction and darted down the hall. Fiona pushed herself up and yelled,
"Like I lost forty-eleven gallons of blood because someone is a crazy freaking vampire!" He flitted behind her and wrapped his arms around her, over hers, effectively restraining her.
"Let go of me you undead creep!" she shrieked. He kissed the mark he had left on her neck and began licking it.
"Stop! Stop that!" she screamed, trying to kick him.
"Hey, I didn't take your blood – not much anyway – I just drank the red. Granted that's the oxygen blood in your kind but if you must know, I'm trying to make the pain go away. I know it's hurting you. I bit you somewhat hard. So stop squirming and let me heal you some." He growled. She didn't respond but did stop kicking and squirming as much. He slid his tongue rhythmically over the wound, tasting the pain fade and spreading the healing energies over it. It would be nearly gone in thirty minutes if she let him keep it up every ten minutes but judging by the heat radiating from her face and neck, he doubted she would allow that. She was giving off waves of rosy embarrassment. He breathed in her scent, trying to memorize it.
"What is that sound anyway?" she asked, sounding a tad bit breathless.
"What?" he asked. What "sound"? He flicked his ears, listening…he heard her heartbeat, the blood rushing in her veins, her breathing, her eyelashes brushing as she blinked, he heard Mortuus' breathing in the other room, he could hear the storm wailing outside and the snowflakes continuing to fall. He snorted.
"There's no one outside, your breathing is unsteady, Mortuus is in the other room, and there's a raging storm outside. What 'noise'?" She turned her head staring at him.
"You don't notice? You make a noise. It sounds kind of like…purring, honestly." She murmured. He snorted.
"Vampires don't purr." He sneered.
"Oh really? Then how would you describe the noise your making, hmmm?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"I don't know. A messed up growl? Your imagination? Besides, things that kill don't purr." He muttered. She shook her head.
"You not a killer, Marshall. Even if you think you are, why would I be here, perfectly fine if you were?" She asked.
He stared at her and growled a low, guttural, hair-standing-on-the-back-of-your-neck growl, and snarled,
"Oh yeah? What makes you think I'm not just keeping you around so I can toy with you huh?"
"What you think I would let you wear me down like you did last night? Speaking of, if you tell anyone about my birthmark I will joyfully rip your-AH! What the hell?!" she screamed. He threw her onto the couch and straddled her. "Birthmark? How did I miss that?" he growled "What birthmark? Where?" he ripped open the shirt, making her shriek. He sniffed her neck, her chest, her stomach, examining her exposed flesh, searching for the mark. He saw nothing but her pale flesh, save for her rose dusted buds – no birthmark. He looked at her, snaring her in his eyes.
"Where is it?" he growled. She just stared at him, quivering slightly, her bottom lip trembling. Her breathing was shaky. He watched as her already enlarged pupils expanded to cover nearly the entire iris.
"Fiona? Where is your birthmark?" he snarled. She breathed out slowly, trying to edge away from him. He growled and grabbed her thighs, forcing their pelvis' into conjunction. She froze at his initial touch and stopped breathing. She let out a rattled exhale, shut her eyes, and let her head drop to the couch's armrest. "Tell me!" he roared. She weakly shook her head, a minor gesture.
"Fi-o-na!" he growled gravely, baring his fangs.
"Last chance!" he hissed. She didn't move. He stared at her again, searching.
"Where is it? On your back?" he demanded, flipping the limp girl over. He ripped away the shirt completely, searching…nothing. However, she did have a small scar on her shoulder and a light bruise on her side, just below her breast. He grumbled and licked the offending discoloration, brushing her mound unintentionally with each swipe. He heard her intake a breath.
"Well? Are you going to tell me or not? He demanded. She was silent. He snorted and continued his search, moving down her back, (she had dimples), to her ass. While definitely well rounded, it was just as pale as the rest of her, if not slightly paler. He huffed.
"I saw every inch of your body last night, I undressed you, I washed you hair for Satan's sake!" he mumbled, flipping her back over. He could clearly hear her heartbeat, pounding out its tempo.
"Well?" he muttered, raising himself above her, staring into her eyes with one hand on the armrest to support him and the other resting on her hip.
"Show me." He whispered. She laid there, her eyes glued to his, her hair in even further disarray; her limbs slightly sprawled in all the tossing and turning, her breathing jagged. She nervously took his hand from her hip and moved it lower, to the inside of her thigh. She tapped his hand twice with her index finger, before letting her hand limply slide away and dangle off the sofa. Never leaving her eyes, he slithered down her body, and after parting her legs slightly, looked at her inner thigh. There, very close to her, was a small birthmark in the shape of a faintly lopsided heart. He stared at it for a minute, just staring, until an impulse struck him. He leaned down slowly, hearing the breath catch in her throat, and kissed her birthmark. His cheek brushed her slightly, and she tried to jump from him, but he gripped her knee with one hand and her hip with the other.
"Where do you think your jumping off to, bunny?" he growled.
She breathed out sharply and whispered in a cracked, broken voice "Please, stop." He cocked his head, his nostrils flaring.
"Why? Does this make you uncomfortable?" he cooed.
"Y-yes." She stuttered.
"Well then, all the more reason for me to keep doing it. After all, you make me uncomfortable all the time but never attempted to cease your teasing." He murmured, leaning down to lick her birthmark.
"STOP! Please? Ok? Just…stop it." She grumbled. He narrowed his eyes at her.
"…..No." he retorted and leaned swiftly down to lap at her birthmark.
"Ah! No!" she squirmed. He continued to lick the mark until she tried to push him away, which he resisted easily. Never the less, he looked up and, propping his chin on her knee and asked,
"Seriously, why does this bother you so much?" her face was beet red.
"B-because you're THERE." She stuttered out. "Here?" he kissed her knee.
"No." she muttered.
"Here?" he licked her leg beside her knee.
"No." she snapped.
"Oh. I see. You mean," he slid his forked tongue on the crest of her nether lips.
"here." He purred.
She gasped and stared at him as if he had just proclaimed himself Jesus. He waited for more of a response, but after a few moments, he realized that she wasn't going to give him one. He smiled crookedly, the tip of a single fang glinting out.
"What's wrong, Fiona? You're a brave adventurer are you not? Don't you want to discover something about yourself?" he cooed. She shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. He snorted and licked her again, eliciting a gasp from her. He growled lightly and licked her again, slightly deeper. He felt her legs tremble. Her heart was pounding. He slid his tongue, very slowly, between her nether lips, listening to her reaction. Her blood rushed ever faster in her veins, her heart skipped a beat and then resounded with more force, and her breathing was little more than a series of gasps. He breathed shallowly, trying to keep his mind clear as it was beginning to become muddled. He growled, moving his tongue slightly deeper, just enough to rest at her entrance. He could hear the rush of her blood, swirling through her body. Her body radiated heat. He felt himself sinking into the pressing fog in his mind, conjuring up images of long-ago abandoned fantasies. He purred and gently slid his tongue into her, her taste making his skin tingle and tongue twist. He could feel that she was a bit wet, not nearly enough. He could feel her walls, flexing, whether to force him out or bring him in, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't about to stop and ask. He flexed his tongue, making a ragged sort of cry burst from her. He breathed in her scent, trying to smell her emotions. Was she afraid of him? Was she groaning in fear, paralyzed by it, unable to struggle away from his advances? He detected a hint of fear, but it was stale, clinging to her from being thrown on the couch. He felt her shudder. He jerked his tongue from her, making her whimper. He hissed a breath between his teeth and hung his head
"Shit." He growled.
He picked her up and flitted her to his room, stole the covers from his cat and wrapped her in them, leaving only her head sticking out of the cocoon. He sat next to her, on a pillow, and covered his eyes.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to make you cold." He muttered. He peeked between his fingers. Mortuus was staring at him, his yellow eyes narrowed. Marshall slid his tongue around, trying, and failing, not to savor Fiona's taste. Was there any part on her that didn't make him want to bite or fuck her? He hissed quietly at Mortuus. Mortuus blinked slowly and jumped off the bed, returning to his couch without a backwards glance. Marshall sighed and peeked at Fiona. Even though she was wrapped up, she was shaking. He shut his eyes and wondered if he had the strength to try to warm her without raping or draining her. He rubbed his face and threw his head against the wall.
"Dammit." He muttered. He heard Fiona's teeth chatter.
"Glob dammit!" he snarled, unraveling her and sliding in next to her, crushing her body against his. She stared at him, her eyes wide, and the pupil barely showing a sliver of her baby blue iris. He licked his lips, getting the last creamy taste of her from his mouth.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice strained. She nodded, slowly. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest. He sighed and began to lick the bite wound on her neck again. Her hair was slightly in the way, but he didn't care. The wound no longer looked bruised. It was just faintly red around the edges, the holes much smaller. He didn't taste any pain. Her skin had a salty tang. He breathed out slowly and stopped licking, resting his head beside hers.
"Why do you do that?" Fiona whispered shakily.
"I already said. I'm trying to make the wound on your neck heal faster. But the rate at which this is going you're going to freeze to death before the wound is healed and the storm is finished. Your clothes are still drenched and I don't have a dryer, I don't exactly have central heat here because I hardly feel the cold and you've spent most of your time here naked which isn't exactly productive when you're trying to conserve heat. I'm trying to make sure you don't get sick, ok?" he muttered. Fiona stared at him, snuggled closer to him, and shut her eyes. Within a few moments, Marshall heard her breathing even out and her heart rate drop. She was sleeping. He let out a shaky sigh and closed his eyes, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do.
After a while, Marshall got up and stretched. He scratched his head and sighed.
"What to do now?" he muttered. He heard Fiona's stomach growl. He frowned.
"Wow. Good job you fucking undead horn dog. You take her against her will, freeze her, bleed her half to death, and starve her. I'm just freaking amazing at taking care of humans…" he grumbled, floating to the kitchen
"I mean how much worse can I…" he stood with the fridge open, staring at the stove. His stove was wood burning! He looked around. There were only 2 logs – not enough to heat the house for an hour, much less two days. He ran over to the stone table and pushed it roughly out of the way. He then ran to the bathroom and slipped on his tennis shoes, leaving his dampened shirt. He flew back to the kitchen and hissed
"Ego vir vester: aperi!" making a door that was seemingly not there a moment ago, appear from the rock wall. He opened the door and stepped through, flitting down the pitch passageway until he smelled the bite of frost. He raced from the hidden tunnel and (after digging his way up through fifteen feet of snow) emerged. He gazed around until he found what he was looking for. From the ground, it was a thirty foot tree, but it, being buried under fifteen feet of snow, only seemed to be about fifteen feet. However, it was three feet thick, meaning that if Marshall cut it, it would give him enough lumber to keep Fiona warm as well as cook her some food. He let his body morph into a large wolf with massive jaws. He gripped the great tree in his mouth and crunched down hard. He felt his own blood drip from his mouth from the pressure. He bit harder, ignoring the pain and small steam of blood pouring from his jaws until he heard a massive crack and felt the tree break in half. He spit the blackened blood from his mouth and ripped out three broken teeth. He winced as he felt their replacements slide out of his gums into place. He placed his nails along the trunk and cut it in half, then quarters. He gasped at the frosted air. He was getting more and more tired. The black blood had frozen on his mouth. He ripped off the branches and then cut each quarter into halves. He felt his leg muscles shudder. Soon, they would give out if he didn't finish up. He ripped the frozen leaves from each severed branch and turned himself into a large bat. Gathering all the firewood in his claws, he flew the short distance back to the hole he had dug. He flattened his wings, braced his mind, and dived in, grunting at the crash of falling onto the tunnel floor. He was mostly iced over now, enough so that even he was cold. Transforming mid fall had spared him the worst of the ice clinging to him though. He rose to his feet, shook, and dragging as much firewood as his natural form could, crawled through the secret door back into his kitchen. He shuddered, and dropped the wood with a muttered
"Conclude". The door swung shut and sealed behind him. He staggered to his feet, stuffed two logs into the stove, and dumped the rest a couple feet away. He rubbed his shoulder, groaning. He hissed at the pain radiating through his arms and shook his head. He walked back into his bedroom and looked at Fiona. She was still sleeping, but she was shivering every so often. He sighed and staggered back to the kitchen and, after searching for a few moments, found a small pack of matches. He struck three and threw them on the logs. The logs caught and a small fire started. He shut the stove and opened the vent tube so the smoke would filter out. The tube was tall and had a hood, so he wasn't worried that it was blocked. He yawned and floated sluggishly to the bathroom. He glanced at the mirror out of habit, but of course, he had no reflection. He floated out and retrieved one of the abandoned towels on his bedroom floor. He turned on the water in the sink on hot and let the sink fill. He dipped the edge of the towel in the hot water and wiped the thawing blood off his face and the black droplets that had frozen on his chest. He ran his fingers through his hair, dislodging the slowly melting ice. He kicked off his ice-encrusted sneakers and floated back to his bedroom. He yawned and snuggled in beside the still resting Fiona. Wrapping his arms around her, he closed his eyes and drifted off, a smile touching his lips.
Fiona awoke to a deliciously warm sensation. Even her toes were warm. She yawned and rolled over, only to see a snoozing Marshall beside her! She jumped slightly and muttered"freaking vampire…" She yawned and looked at the sleeping boy beside her. His chest didn't rise and fall. He didn't seem to move. She laid her head on his chest, listening. Silence. No heartbeat, no breathing.
"Oh Glob…"she whispered.
"Marshall? Are you ok? Are you awake? Hello? Marshall! Wake up! Oh Glob…Oh Glob…this isn't funny!" she shrieked, slamming a fist on his chest. She felt panic rising in her.
"No, no, no, no, no…you can't be dead…Marshall!" She straddled him and slapped him. Nothing.
"MARSHALL!" She shrieked, preparing to punch him. His eyes snapped open and he snared her hand before it connected with his face again.
"Whoa! What's going on?" Marshall asked, staring at her. Fiona breathed a sigh of relief.
"I thought you were dead." She admitted. Marshall stared at her.
"Um…well technically I am dead. Don't think I'll be pushing up dasies anytime soon though, love." he smirked.
"Oh." She muttered, bending down to check his forehead.
"Oh for the love of all that's unholy woman, what is it?" he huffed, staring at her, his forehead creased.
"Just…checking you temperature." Fiona muttered.
"Fiona…is this a dream?" he chuckled.
"What? No. Why?" she asked.
"Then what are you insinuating by straddling me in my slumber, naked?" He purred.
Fiona shrieked and covered herself with the blankets. Her face felt like it was on fire. Marshall rose up slowly, the faintest blush of excitement glinting on his cheeks.
"Fiona?" he asked.
"Y-yes?" Fiona stuttered.
"Are you ok?"
"Yes. I…think I'm ok. Maybe."
"Fiona?"
"Yes?" she whispered
"Lay back." Marshall ordered
"Uh…why?." Fiona whispered.
Marshall smiled, all fangs.
"Lay back and find out." He purred.
Fiona stared at the bed sheets she was covering herself in, keeping her head down. She felt Marshall move on the bed, and gently place his fingers under her chin, raising her head. She stared into his eyes. His irises were a deep, nearly black, red. She watched as Marshall's eyes slowly turned into demon eyes, eyes that looked like they hungered for your soul. Marshall leaned in, stopping just as his protruding fangs brushed her bottom lip.
"Lay back." Marshall whispered, enthralling her in his gaze like a snake to an injured bird. Fiona pressed her lips lightly to Marshalls, surprised at the soft feel of his lips. She felt Marshall's fingers twist in her hair, and pull her back. He nipped her bottom lip and licked the droplet of blood away.
"Ah…" she gasped, enjoying the sensation it sent through her body. She felt her skin tingle. His lips worked against hers, taking over. She felt his tongue caress her bottom lip.
"Ooh…" she gasped.
"Need air…" she mumbled against his mouth. He kissed down her jaw to her neck; kissing the remnants of the wound, he had left her, making her shudder. He kissed down to her shoulder, nudging the blanket she had wrapped herself in down slightly.
"Fiona." He growled.
"Y-yes." Fiona whispered.
"Please…" he groaned pushing her back slightly. She laid down, her heart pounding. Marshall straddled her and kissed her hands, which were gripping the sheet tightly.
"Fiona…" Marshall growled "you're making this difficult."
She released the covers. He pulled the sheet down slowly, gently revealing more of her skin. He gazed at her exposed flesh, watching as her rosy peaks hardened in the cooled air. He groaned and nuzzled her mounds, relishing the feel of her. He slid his nails lightly down her sides, feeling her buck slightly at the sensation. He slid his tongue over her nipple, shuddering at the taste. He groaned and rolled his hips on hers so that she could feel him. He licked her lips, gasping when her blood touched his tongue. He slid his hand from her hair to her neck, gently smoothing his way to her bottom. He massaged her ass with his hands, lifting her against him, and flicked his tongue across one nipple, before twisting it, making her hips jerk. He growled and scratched a shallow M on her hip. He slid his hand lower, needing to feel her. He slid under the covers. Her legs were clenched tightly together, but she slowly relaxed and parted her legs, allowing him entry. He kissed her lips gently, barely caressing her lips with his teeth, before he slid a finger inside of her. She gasped loudly against his mouth and groaned.
"You're rather excited…" Marshall purred, pleased that she was, at least, enjoying his actions. He slid a finger in and out of her slowly, teasing her, waiting. He stopped moving every time she bucked, frustrating her.
"Marshall…" she growled. He slid another finger into her. She moaned loudly.
"Yesssssss!" Marshall hissed, sliding his tongue over her nipple.
"Ooh…" she groaned. He could feel that she was getting tighter around his fingers, her body pleading with him to stop his maddeningly slow pace. Had he been inside her, he might not have been able to resist.
"Glob…Marshall…PLEASE…" Fiona begged. Marshall smiled and slid his fingers from her entrance, making her whimper. Marshall licked her lips lightly, growling when she unexpectedly bit his lip roughly, drawing a drop of his darkened blood.
"What do you want?" he whispered, licking the drop of blood from his lip.
"Please…inside…?" Fiona groaned, writhing next to him. He placed her hand on the tent his pants had created.
"Are you sure about that, love? I wouldn't want to give you something you couldn't handle." Marshall crooned. Fiona groaned and gripped his length through the fabric, eliciting a loud growl from him. She rubbed him as best she could and groaned
"Yes. PLEASE…". Marshall growled and slid his pants off, poising himself at her entrance.
"Fiona…" he growled, forcing her hips into stillness.
"Yes?! What?! WHAT?!" she snarled, bucking roughly against his restraining hands.
"Look me in the eye. I want to see it when you realize your MINE." He growled. She twisted, straining against his hands, and slid her fingers through his silken hair, glaring at him. He slowly pushed the head of himself inside her, but nothing more.
"Argh! Dammit! PLEASE MARSHALL! ENOUGH!" Fiona begged. Marshall kissed her shoulder gently and, staring into her eyes, rammed into her, feeling her barrier break at his forced entry.
"Ah!" Fiona squeaked, biting her lip roughly, drawing more blood from the small wound Marshall had created. Marshall stopped moving, forcing himself to remain still, feeling her clench around him, adjusting. He heard Fiona breath out heavily.
"Still think you can handle me?" Marshall growled and kissed her roughly, licking a dot of their intermingled blood from her lip away and snarled, an animal in heat. Marshall growled and, smelling the gentle spark of Fiona's fear intermingled with her heady desire, began a rhythm that would have rammed her into the headboard if he had one. He groaned in her ear and pushed her into the bed with a hand clenching her hip, providing him with a better angle. He slid his other hand between them to flick her clit. He watched as she gasped and squirmed at the sensations, moaning his name and Glob's every so often. He nipped her neck very lightly making her hips jerk roughly off the bed.
"Enough!" she snarled, writhing.
"No love, not nearly." He purred. He pounded into her flicking her clit faster. He could feel her flexing and tightening, gripping him and pulling him, her cries begging for release. He growled and bit her earlobe.
"C'mon Fiona. Come for me. Its ok. Stop thinking. Just…relax. Relax and feel. Enjoy the ride the devil has put you on." He purred, sliding his tongue along the underside of her breast. He flicked her clit harder, thrusting into her with a tempo that only a vampire could reach, twisting his hips to hit every side of her, before finally, finally, he felt her grip him, washing him in her heated juices. Her hair, matted with their sweat and plastered to her forehead, her eyes glazed and burning with an inner need, a groan escaping her mouth, she came for the first time. The waves of euphoria wracking her body, making her shake and shudder. Her legs wrapped firmly around Marshall's waist, trembled in the ecstasy. Marshall growled in satisfaction at seeing her come. Finally she gasped, the aftershocks wracking her body.
"Glob…" she whispered. Marshall leaned down and whispered
"Glob had nothing to do with it. Ready for round two?" He watched, as Fiona's eyes grew larger, staring at him open mouthed.
"Shut your mouth before I take advantage of it." He crooned. Fiona snapped her mouth shut. Marshall smiled and licked a droplet of sweat from her temple before slowly pulling himself out of her. She looked down at his still erect cock.
"Didn't…didn't you get any pleasure out of that?" Fiona whispered. Marshall smiled.
"You've no idea just how much pleasure I got from being able to see you…to touch you…to kiss and lick and bite you…I can't begin to tell you the pleasure I've experienced from finally realizing a fantasy I've had since I met you." He purred.
"Uh…ok…" Fiona mumbled, breathing shakily. Marshall nuzzled her neck.
"We're not done yet, lover." He murmured.
Fiona gasped "What?" as Marshall pulled her closer to him and placed her knees on his shoulders.
"What are you-Ah!" Fiona groaned as Marshall pumped into her again, the new angle destroying her sensory perception again. The sensation was very nearly enough to drive her mad. The feeling was so intense, that after only a few minutes she was begging him to stop, her hands fisted in her own hair.
Marshall hissed "Not yet…not until you ssssscream for me. Not until I'm done…" Fiona screamed his name, begging. Regardless, she felt the pressure in her begin to build again.
"No…no…no…" Fiona groaned.
"Oh yessss!" Marshall snarled, pumping into her faster, groaning at the deliciously heated friction against him with the taste of her on his lips. Finally, shuddering, Fiona came, shaking as Marshall wrapped her lags around his waist, gaining his own satisfaction at the deepened sensation, until he gained his own release. He bit her shoulder, drinking from her as he felt his cooled (though impotent) seed into her, eliciting a gasp from her at the freezing sensation. Marshall slowly pulled his teeth from her along with himself, and stared into her eyes, watching as her crimson rubies dripped from his lips onto her chest. He licked the droplets away and cut his own lip with his tooth, mixing their blood. He kissed her gently, smearing her pink lips with the crimson mixture. Fiona moaned and licked her lips, her eyes closing at the inoxicating mix. Marshall smiled, purring as Fiona drifted off.
"That's it…rest…rest while I circulate through you…sleep…" Marshall crooned, licking the last of her essence from her lips. Fiona murmured his name one last time before drifting into a deep slumber. Marshall licked the still bleeding wound on her shoulder, a purr rumbling in his chest.
Days later, the storm was over. With Fiona's clothes dried by the fire and her sword returned to her, she set out for home. She arrived at sunset, with a frazzled Cake greeting her.
"Girl! Where have you been? I mean I get that you could be mad but mad enough to spend three days and nearly four nights alone in a cave! What is all that about? I've been worried sick and Prince Gumball didn't hear from you either so don't even tell me you were being looked after! Look at you! Your hair looks like you slept for three days and you positively reek of apples and…sandalwood? What the hell you been doing?" Cake spazzed. Fiona stared at her sister and companion.
"Weren't you guys trapped by the snow storm?" Fiona asked, confused.
"Girl what snow? It's just started fall for Glob's sake! What you talking about, snow for? What did you do, hit your head?" Cake asked, paws on her hips, her fur fluffing.
"Uh…I…don't…know?" Fiona stuttered.
"Well you're home now at least. Come on, let's just get you a shower, I got you some more of that strawberry shampoo you like, and then we can brush out your hair, get you some nice bacon, eggs, and orange juice…" Cake murmured, pulling Fiona into their home.
That night, the last of the 'snow' melted. Marshall Lee could be seen in his bedroom, a cellphone at his ear.
"Hey Ice Queen. Yeah it's me. Your favor is repaid. Thanks." Marshall purred.
"Whatever vampire freak. Just don't tell anyone what happened between me and Finn in my diary, ever. Fair?" a shrill, annoying voice could be heard on the other line.
"Of course. My lips are eternally sealed from exposing your secret." Marshall purred, closing his phone and rolling in the scent that still remained of Fiona's and himself. He breathed deeply and licked his lips, savoring a tangy drop of her blood, taken from her while she rested. He looked at the still half-full vial of blood he had taken from the adventurous girl.
"Positively delicious." He licked his lips, dripping another drop on his tongue. He purred, rolling in the ecstasy of her essence. He looked to the hall where Mortuus was staring at him.
"Don't worry. She'll be back. She's already craving another trip dosed on my venom." He crooned, licking a clear droplet of venom from his tooth, induced by the taste of Fiona's scrumptious rubies.
"After all," Marshall cooed "one dose puts you on a pleasant trip. But the second dose…no…then your addicted to the bite. The feeling you get when the heart's synchronize. Oh yes…she'll be back, and I'll be waiting for her with open arms and an open mouth." He growled. Mortuus blinked at him slowly, purred briefly, and padded out of the room.
THE END
Tell me what you think!
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This is kind of my first fanfiction ever...so any tips are appreciated!