A/N: Where do I begin!? My computer died and all my writing over the past two years is gone. I lost a lot of inspiration, but I promised you guys I'd try on this story so I made this chapter. I hope you all like it and I'm aware it sucks but I'm trying to regain my writing "skills." PLUS. There's a huge surprise at the end that you all will love ;) It's my apology for being a bad updater. Please review, it means the world to me. Enjoy guys. This chapter is dedicated to my awesome reader Izaack! (:
WARNING: Some bad language, not to explicit.
Marshall Lee knew where to go. Though it wasn't as hospitable as most people would like, it hasn't been for a good fifty years, the Dagwood Cabin was the only place of shelter in the middle of the woods. He curses, noticing that he only had one hour until dawn, meaning he better hurry his ass up if he didn't want to be fried to a crisp with a dead girl in his arms. Yet he couldn't bring his attention off her lovely face, if it was because of her flawless features or because of the blood cascading down her cheek, he'd never know. It didn't take him long to get there, almost having to break open the door as he realized no one had been in there for decades. Dust adorned the water damaged wood planks that lay beneath his feet, a bed for two set up in the middle of the room, the blankets faded colors seeming to blend in with the musky room. Right beside it was a little desk, made out of oak most likely, that carried an old fashioned lamp atop it. He carries her to the bed, gently resting her petite body onto the mattress; as he quickly starts to dig through the drawers of a dresser to his right. He grunts in satisfaction realizing some of his old clothes were still left there, withered from age, making them all the more easier to shred piece by piece. Marshall moves back to her, dressing her wounds in cloth to seize the blood from flowing. He sighs, slumping onto the other half of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed.
A whimper awoke him from his slumber, his senses alluring him from his dreams. The pale-greenish man looks to the woman, noticing her struggle in her sleep. At first finding it amusing, but the feeling vanishes as she starts to scream in utter terror, shaking the bed as she fights whoever she sees in her sleep. He growls, not taking notice that he is concerned with her being frightened, as he firmly grips her shoulders in his rough hands, shaking her awake.
"Stop it! Stop Gumball- don't do this! Please!"
He stops, his blood eyes widening at the mention of the pink pampered prince he once knew. King, the boy was a king now…He shakes his head continuing to shake her. Her eyes start to open as she is brought back to reality, ridding the night mere as she takes in everything that was going on. Has she succeeded in getting herself killed? Oceanic eyes meet black and red hungry ones, and she has to hold back a scream in surprise. She jumps back into the pillows, feeling vulnerable to the extent as she clutches the sheets. Her breath is caught as she looks to the man a top her, his shaggy black hair that fell to his eyes, his soft lips curled into a frown. He was someone she recognized no doubt, with a shiver of shock she realizes he was indeed the Vampire king, obviously saving her from death only to get the pleasure of killing her himself. Her eyes narrow, no; she would not be killed by royalty. She rather suffer the worst torture than watching him get satisfaction from drinking her dry. She decides to fight against his hold, screaming in fury, not liking being trapped underneath another man at all.
"Let go! Let go!"
"I'm not going to hurt you, Fionna!"
She halts in her actions, her breath clogged in her throat at the mention of her own name. How long had it been since someone had called her by that? How long had it been since she had been that girl? She had rid herself of that name months ago. How did he know who she is? No, how did he know who she was?
As if reading her mind he answers, his eyes furious as he strengthens his hold on her feeble arms, temporarily forgetting about her injuries.
"Didn't think I could recognize the only girl with this colored hair? I know who you were, and who you call yourself now."
He knew. He knew she was the bandit. He's going to kill her because of the prank she pulled on him. Her body moves before her mind can function, as she knees him directly in the crotch with all her might.
"FUCK!"
He yells, rolling to the side of her as he grasps himself with delicate pressure, cursing to himself over and over. With nothing holding her down she makes her escape, flinging from the bed with ambition as she tries to scamper out the door. Her eyes widen as she feels herself collapse, her leg giving out from beneath her and a pounding setting in as her head looks down to see the damage. As she tries to gather herself up to move again out the door, a hand shoots out to grip her ankle causing her to plummet to the ground. She lets out a cry, knocking to the floor with a harsh thud. Marshal springs to his feet, his manhood still aching as he picks her back up and thrusts her against the door. He holds her by her wrists, bringing one of his knees in-between her legs so she could not kick him again. Rage rumbled through his body, furious that she had caught him off guard.
"Fine. Do it. Kill me. I have nothing anymore. I have absolutely no one. Do it, I dare you." She whispers tauntingly, the pain rumbling through her veins both physically and emotionally. She looks through her golden strands to meet his eyes, not daring to show weakness. His tantrum settles at each word, his grasp easing up on her wrists. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, sympathy running through him for some unknown reason. Never did he pity anyone, never did he care, and never had he started to feel these kinds of emotions. How is it that he must start to feel his still teenage hormones raging for an infuriating girl?
A new burst of confusion and anger rocket off in his chest as growls lowly, "You probably deserve to die, don't you? Little ungrateful slut."
That stung, deeply, tears start to well in her eyes but she would not allow herself to cry. A crazed smirk makes its way onto her lips, hallucinations of pink hair and a pink suit filling her consciousness.
"Yeah, that's right. I'm a little slut, aren't I? Well at least I'm not a despicable pathetic little boy like you." She spits onto his face before she can have any sense to stop herself.
His eyes turn completely black, his hands tightening as adrenaline pumps through him. He presses her into the door once more with all his might, as his fangs gruesomely pop down in anticipation of sucking the red from her. She flutters her eyes closed, her plush pink swollen lips parting as she takes air in her lungs with little breaths. Her cheeks flushed a rosy velvet and her long dark eyelashes lay atop them. He grunts, looking to her as he finds himself enhanced with such lust he cannot comprehend as well as the overwhelming urge to kiss her. Immediately he lets go and steps back, looking to the floor as he growls irritated with himself. Raking a hand through his thick hair he grumbles, beyond frustrated.
"What did that Gumball fool do to you?"
She opens her eyes, balancing herself so she would not fall, taken back at his question and why he hadn't killed her. Her hair once again falls in front of her face as she mumbles.
"He almost stole my innocence. He forced me to see the maliciousness in all royalty and this land. He inwardly killed me. Stripped me of my self pride and vanity…I'm just making sure everyone pays for his deed and their ignorance."
He takes in her words, growling in fury that Gumball would do such a thing. He at the moment didn't take his reaction as jealously and possessiveness.
"He tried to rape you."
Fionna cringes at the memory, trying to hide her hurt.
The act does not go unnoticed however, his own eyes widening as he mutters out, "You loved him."
She quickly looks to him, that word sickening her as she balls her hands into fists.
"There is no such thing."
"Love?"
"Yes. It was all artificial. Fake."
He casts his gaze downward, breaking eye contact.
"Love is real, Blondie."
Fionna scoffs and lets out a sarcastic laugh, rebutting bitterly.
"You would know?"
"I know." He brings his eyes back to hers, no emotion laced in the two words as he stares at her.
Suddenly her crude smile drops from her lips as she responds just as stoic.
"Prove it. Prove to me love is real."
Stepping forward towards her, invading her space he grasps her face in his hands.
"What the hell are-!"
His lips delicately press to hers, her knees going weak as she leans into him, letting her eyes flutter closed. His lips pronunciate passion and emotions they both did not know how to decipher, causing her to instantly respond. A soft peck now is fluctuating into something more, causing pleasure to soar up inside him. Hesitantly he pulls back, still holding her particularly close as he whispers.
"That would be a long process."
She looks to him lividly, her eyes glossed over still coming off from a high.
"I never back down from a challenge."
"Good."
