Chapter Text
“Fi-Baby, you surprise your sister every day,” Cake said in a weak voice. “I thought that was going to be the end for me, how did you get me out of there?” Fionna looked down at Cake’s heavily bandaged form lying in the hospital bed for a long moment before replying.
“I stepped back and just… listened to my melon heart,” Fionna finally said. She didn’t want to lie to her sister, but she didn’t want to tell her the truth either. She didn’t think Cake was in any state to hear the deal she had struck up with a literal demon to ensure her safety.
Fionna and Cake had no idea the danger that was waiting for them in that graveyard when they entered it. What they thought would be a quick in-and-out adventure to nab an enchanted spirit flower turned into the fight of their lives against the fabled Ghost Lord. Cake was admittedly not on her A-game, as she was terrified out of her life, leaving most of the fighting to Fionna.
It all came back to her as she looked down at Cake, the way the Ghost Lord had wrapped his body around Cake to drag her to the dead world with him… The way the ghosts had thrown her around, how she had been nearly defenseless against them… If not for the ectosword she had taken from a crypt allowing her to slash through the assembled ghost army she would have croaked within minutes. Even still she had been greatly outnumbered, the odds had not been looking in her favor.
Mentally she was back in that graveyard. She was tightly surrounded and watched as the lord drifted further off with Cake, dragging her unconscious form into the ground with him. She repeatedly told herself, like a mantra, if she could only cut through enough of the ghosts to get to the lord and save Cake it would be enough. Even if she died, if Cake got out of here, it would be worth it. She slashed and cut without a single thought for her own safety, trying to make a direct path to Cake.
The ghosts, who appeared to be under the control of the Ghost Lord like puppets, seemed to understand her plan to cut through them to get to her sister. They combined into one horrifying, massive, many-eyed ghost and grabbed her by the middle and threw her. She soared through the air for an indeterminate length of time before crashing into an old gravestone, the marker crumbling on impact. The wind was knocked out of her and she gasped for breath, her lungs not cooperating with her body’s demand for air.
She tried to get up but could not complete such a coordinated movement, her body spasming and causing her to fall face-first into the graveyard soil. She could hardly even see the semi-translucent mass in the distance that had thrown her, let alone her sister. She cried out when she felt a gentle hand on her back, jerking her head up to look into black-rimmed, glowing red eyes. She was immediately gripped by terror and instinctively threw a hand up to try to fight off the Vampire King.
“Stop, I’m not here to hurt you, little girl,” he said, easily catching her hand with his own, appearing unfazed by her attack.
Panic paralyzed her and she found she couldn’t speak as she held his vampiric gaze. She had met him once before, several years prior when he had claimed her treehouse as his own. He had spent a few days toying with her and Cake, following them around and terrorizing them for fun. She had finally lost it and decked the guy, which seemed to greatly anger him.
She still remembered the way he had pressed her against the ground, glaring at her and asking if she was ready for pay back. He leaned forward, and she had been sure he was about to sink his fangs into her, but instead he had surprised her by brushing his lips against hers and proclaiming they could keep the house as a personal gift from the Vampire King.
She remembered how she had gaped up at him, blinking stupidly for several seconds before he had released her. He had held her face, brushing his thumb over her lips as he considered her. He asked her something then, but she had been too terrified at the time to properly hear the question. The way she had embarrassingly blurted out, ‘Huh?’ still kept her up at night making her cringe into her pillow.
Instead of repeating himself he had simply laughed in response and flew off, mumbling something that sounded like ‘Maybe when you’re older’. She hadn’t seen him since, and honestly tried not to think about him. He was scary, unpredictable, and she was, as Cake often reminded her, his natural prey. She had been warned by her sister to watch out for him, and now he had finally come back for her at the worst possible moment. She blinked once, unable to look away from his crimson gaze.
He didn’t release her hand, holding it in his own with a grip she couldn’t break. His red eyes left her face for a moment, watching with interest as a line of blood trickled down her forearm from an injury she had sustained when she fell. The moment his eyes had left hers she seemed to regain some semblance of control, wrenching her hand free from his. He allowed this, closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly as if in disagreement. When he reopened his eyes they were his normal dark shade, no hint of red present.
“W-what are you doing here, Marshall Lee?” Fionna finally said, her voice wavering in her fear. Although he had never done anything outright to harm her he had implied and referenced it enough in those days he had terrorized her. It wasn’t something one just forgot.
“I can’t just let them drag you to the dead world,” he said. “C’mon little human girl, let’s get you out of here.” He grabbed her without invitation, cradling her to his chest and hovering. His grip was like iron but she writhed, kicking and elbowing to squirm away. He held her tighter, appearing annoyed. “I’m trying to help you, dammit,” he said, grunting when she kneed him in the chest.
“Leave me alone, please, they have Cake,” Fionna said, tears leaking down her face as she scanned the graveyard for the Ghost Lord.
“No shit, why do you think I’m out here trying to save your ass?” he asked. She wiggled, freeing an arm, making him redouble his hold. She cried out when his grip turned suddenly painful. “Fucking hell, I’m trying not to hurt you,” he said, loosening his hold on her in response to her cry. She took this opportunity to wiggle free and she fell a few feet, hitting the ground.
“Don’t touch me,” she quickly said as he reached down for her. She was surprised when he complied, his hands freezing in the air a few inches above her. He shrugged before burying them in his pockets, his body assuming a relaxed position as he hovered.
She felt around blindly for her ectosword before quickly giving up and grabbing a rock. She tried to stand but couldn’t. Her right leg wouldn’t support her, it began shaking violently when she tried to make it bear her weight. She dropped down on her hands and knees and began to crawl in the direction she thought Cake was in, rock in tow.
“You’re still trying to fight?” he asked, and she didn’t immediately reply, focusing all of her energy on putting one hand in front of the other, moving her broken body forward.
He followed, floating around her, darting under tree branches and between headstones as she crawled. Her leg finally gave out on her and she dropped to her stomach. Her fingers clawed at the dirt as she began to drag herself forward.
His expression turned amused as he witnessed this and he twisted in the air so he was upside down, his face hovering inches above hers. His unruly black hair fell up, the strands tickling her face. “This is the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m over a thousand years old,” he commented unhelpfully. Fionna let out a sharp intake of breath to blow his hair out of her face.
“I have to rescue Cake,” she ground out through gritted teeth.
“It would be a lot easier to just let me carry you out of here,” he said. One of her arms seized up on her, the abused limb refusing to drag her another inch.
“I have to rescue Cake,” she repeated, tears beginning to spill from her eyes. She squirmed pathetically, trying to propel herself forward by sheer willpower.
“Hoookay, that’s enough,” he said, reaching down to scoop her up. “Time to go.”
“NO!” Fionna yelled into the dirt. His hands froze on her sides. He didn’t pick her up, but he didn’t release her either. She began shaking with the sobs she didn’t have the strength to hold in. His thumbs started stroking up and down her sides as he held her.
“Am I really that scary?” he asked in a soft voice.
“Yes, you really are,” she said, sniffling loudly. “But, it’s not about that, I won’t leave here without Cake.”
“The Ghost Lord has her, it’s too late,” he said, his voice not unkind. He applied more pressure with his hands as if he was gearing to lift her back into his arms.
“You could help her!” Fionna said, forcing her aching body to turn around so she could face him. “Please! Then I’ll go with you!” He blinked in surprise, silenced as he looked into her fiery blue gaze. He held her stare for a moment before speaking.
“No.” Her face fell.
“Why not?” she asked. He scoffed.
“Because it sounds like the worst deal in the history of ever. I risk my neck to fight the Ghost Lord to save your weird cat-sister just to be rewarded with the pleasure of dragging you both to the Candy Kingdom hospital?” This surprised Fionna.
“You were trying to take me to a… hospital?” she asked, unsure if she had heard him correctly. Her head was spinning, she probably had a concussion, but she couldn’t worry about that right now.
“Where did you think I was trying to take you? Did you think I was going to drag you back to my lair to drink your blood?”
“Yes,” she admitted, and he let out an annoyed noise.
“See, that’s the fucking issue. Everyone just assumes the worst in me no matter what I try to do. What the fuck is even the point?”
“I wasn’t trying to assume anything. You literally told me you wanted to do that before, when you kicked us out of our treehouse,” Fionna said. “You said you wanted to drag me back to your lair and drink my blood. Those were your exact words, I remember.” He rolled his eyes, bringing himself down in a seated position in front of her, hovering an inch or two above the ground.
“Okay, real talk. I was just messing with you when I said all that stuff.”
“So, you don’t want to drink my blood?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course I want to! I’m a vampire! It’s kind of like our whole deal.”
“But you’re not going to?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Why not?” she asked. He crossed his arms, appearing impatient.
“It tastes better when it comes from a willing source. When it’s taken by force it… sours. What’s with the interrogation, anyway? I’m trying to help you out here.”
“If you save Cake, you can have my blood,” Fionna said. Marshall didn’t immediately reply, his gaze suddenly hardening. “You can have all of it, I don’t care,” she said desperately. She grabbed him with the one arm that was still working and tried to pull herself onto his lap.
“I mean it, bite me,” she said, arching her head back to expose a sliver of her neck from under her hat. He observed her silently for a few moments, his expression unreadable. Finally he shoved her off him and quickly drifted back several feet to put space between them.
“You can’t just say things like that to me,” he said. “It’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking, I mean it,” she said. “Save Cake and my blood is yours.” He slowly drifted closer to her, his eyes locked on her. She grabbed at her hat and ripped it off, brushing her hair away from her neck. She arched her head back in what she hoped was a tempting position for him, her eyes closed. She trembled slightly in the silent moments that followed, keeping her neck bared for him, eyes shut tight.
He came down to earth on top of her, his weight pressing against her as he covered her, no longer hovering. It surprised her how solid he felt. He buried his face in her neck and she braced herself for a bite. He pressed his nose against her skin and inhaled deeply. She felt him shiver against her. She was gasping for breath and staring up into the night sky, completely terrified but steadfast in her resolution.
“You’re shaking,” he commented, his lips brushing against her skin with each word.
“Do it!” she yelled. “Drain me, I don’t care, if you save Cake it’s worth it!” She grabbed at his head and roughly shoved his face against her neck. He freed himself from her grip easily, letting out a little snort of amusement.
“I wouldn’t drain you,” he said, pressing his lips against her pulse point once before pulling away. “I’d leave you enough to make it home, at least.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked. He stared down at her unblinkingly, a confused expression on his face, as if the answer were obvious.
“That way I can enjoy you again and again,” he simply stated. He flashed her a grin and she couldn’t help but fixate on his sharp canines. “Anyway, this isn’t the time or place for this. I’ll take you up on your offer, sure, but not here and not now. You’re weak enough as it is. You should know something about vampires and ghosts, though.”
“What is that?”
“It’s like a rock, paper, scissors deal. Ghosts beat vampires, it’s something of a rule.” She looked at him in horror.
“What the junk? So what beats ghosts?” she asked.
“Demons,” he said casually.
“Where are we going to find one of those?”
“Luckily for you I’m half-demon,” he said. “I can suck up those ghosts for you, little girl, don’t worry. I just don’t like doing it.”
“You could suck them up all along? Then why would you let them take Cake?” she asked, angry enough to strike him. She would have, too, if she hadn’t been battered to death’s door herself.
“Because, I really don’t like doing it,” he said with a grimace. “This is about to have me messed up for days. But, your deal will make it all even out in the end. You stay here, I’ll be back with your Cake.” He grinned down at her again, giving her neck a playful little flick before flying off in the direction she had been thrown from.
“Fi-Baby! Fi!” Cake yelled before succumbing to a coughing fit. Fionna blinked a few times, her sister’s frantic voice pulling her from her reverie. She wasn’t in the graveyard anymore, she was in the hospital with Cake, right. Yes. Cake, who was now hacking like she was coughing up a hairball, fur standing up on end.
“Sorry Cake!” Fionna said, patting her sister on the back and shushing her. “I’m okay, I’m sorry, I forgot where I was for a minute there.”
“I know,” Cake said between hacking coughs. “I about had to scream my dang lungs out for you to hear me.”
“Sorry Cake,” she repeated, brushing her fur in a manner she hoped was soothing.
“It’s alright, baby, why don’t you go home and rest? It’s late anyway and you have your own injuries you’re healing from. Don’t worry about your big sis, I’ll be fine.” Fionna held her gaze for a few moments before relenting.
“Alright, you’re right, I love you, sis,” she said, pulling Cake into a hug. Cake returned the gesture as best she could with how heavily bandaged her limbs were.
Fionna made the trek back to the treehouse lost in her thoughts. She was glad Cake had finally woken up, she had been completely knocked out for days after the events in the graveyard. Fionna herself had only had to stay overnight, the mix of potions and medications Doctor Prince had coaxed her into drinking curing most of her aches and pains nearly instantaneously.
She shivered, suddenly chilly in the night air. She wrapped her arms around herself as she walked, picking up her pace. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she glanced over her shoulder, sighing with relief upon seeing no one there. She hadn’t heard from the Vampire King since he flew her and Cake from the graveyard to the hospital and left them there. He had told her he would be back for her soon, but she didn’t know how soon ‘soon’ meant.
It had already been a week, how much longer was he going to wait? It was getting a bit unnerving, all the waiting. Her mind was beginning to play tricks on her, she saw him in every shadow, waiting for her behind every corner. It wasn’t healthy and being constantly on edge was really starting to wear her down.
She pushed open the door to the treehouse and walked inside. It was dark and quiet, as she had expected. What she didn’t expect, however, was the light glowing from upstairs. Her bedroom light was on, when she knew it most certainly shouldn’t be. She gulped, taking a moment to steady herself before kicking off her shoes and climbing the ladder.
She found Marshall lounging, hovering a few inches above her bed, flipping through the pages of a comic book of hers with a disinterested sort of expression. He looked up when she entered her room, watching with interest as she shut the door behind her and took a fortifying breath. They held each other’s gaze for a second before Fionna walked to the bed, pulling her hat off and throwing it on the dresser as she passed it by. Her long, blonde hair tumbled out of its confines and down her back.
She plopped herself down on the bed without a word to Marshall, turning her head slightly, her neck on display for him. It was an invitation, she couldn’t make the offer any clearer, but he did not react to it. She waited several moments, but he didn’t bite her.
“How is your healing?” he asked her, and she felt the pressure of his body against the mattress as he settled next to her. She peeked an eye open, looking at him for a second before squeezing it back shut.
“I’m fine,” she squeaked, clasping her hands into the sheets to keep them from shaking.
“And your sister?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her body to pull her into his chest. She stiffly complied, her muscles tense and rigid in his arms.
“She’s fine, too,” she said through gritted teeth. She jerked her head when he did nothing, trying to get him to just bite her and get it over with. The anticipation surely had to be worse than the bite itself would be; the waiting was agony.
“You have pretty hair,” he said, brushing the golden strands away from her neck, his fingers ghosting against her flesh. She whimpered in response, clamping her teeth together to keep them from chattering. “Are you scared?”
“Of course I am,” she said, harsher than she intended. Her words made him flinch against her, and for some reason she felt guilty over this. “I’m sorry, it’s just, can you get this over with?”
He dipped his face down and inhaled against her neck again, smelling her. The action made her skin break out in goosebumps. “Do you want me to?” he asked.
“I don’t,” she answered immediately, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. He looked up and she felt his hand against her face as he brushed them away.
“We had a deal,” he murmured, and she couldn’t quite place the emotion behind his voice.
“I know,” she said, her whole body shaking as she fought for control to calm it. “Just do it and get it over with, Marshall. Please.”
She could feel his eyes on her but she couldn’t bring herself to look into his gaze. She didn’t want to look at those horrifying black eyes with glowing red pupils that were present in every dream she had had for the last week. Every dream followed the same basic plot, she was hunted, devoured, and killed. But there were other dreams where he did more than that, awful things, unspeakable things. She shuddered, trying to force the dreams out of her mind.
“I’ve never had a willing human before,” he said slowly. She felt his fingers begin to move on her neck, gently caressing and dragging across her skin. His words disturbed her, but her promise was binding, her moral code would never allow for her to break it no matter how much it frightened her. “I make due with the color red, and animal’s blood when I can’t take the bloodlust, but they’re all poor substitutes for the real thing.”
Fionna’s breath was coming out in shaky gasps as he touched and prodded at her throat, the anticipation overwhelming her. He surprised her by pinching the side of her neck with enough force to get her attention. She initially thought he had finally bit her. Her eyes flew open in panic and she screamed as he immediately released. She looked at him through watery eyes, and his hands left her throat. He held her gaze and she watched as the red drained from his eyes and he smirked at her.
“You can go back on our deal, you know,” he said. “I can be persuaded to just forget about it.” She blinked a few times to clear the tears from her eyes. Was he seriously giving her an out?
“Do you not want my blood?” she asked, surprising even herself by the question. Marshall looked at her incredulously.
“Of course I want your blood, little girl,” he said. She scrunched up her eyebrows.
“I’m not a little girl,” she said. He considered this, his eyes roaming her body.
“No, I suppose you’re not,” he agreed. “Little or grown, I can still let you out of your end of the deal.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, looking at him suspiciously. Was he trying to humiliate her by making her beg, then bite her anyway? She always had so much trouble predicting his actions, she couldn’t write it off as a possibility. He still had his arms wrapped around her, holding her to his chest. His grip was lax but she felt as though he would tighten it the moment she tried to get away.
“Ask nicely and see how kind I can be,” he said. “Maybe I will accept just this, for example,” he said, dipping his face down and pressing his lips against her neck, right at the thrill of her pulse. He held them there for a few seconds, his fingers involuntarily gripping against her before pulling away.
“Y-you’d be okay with just putting your mouth there?” she asked, her brain fighting to keep up. He shrugged.
“It’s better than nothing. Ask and find out how generous I’m feeling today.”
“No,” she said. He sighed in annoyance, looking at her critically.
“Look, I’m trying to help you out here,” he said. “You don’t want this, and I told you I don’t like the taste of unwilling blood. Your fear will ruin the taste for me. You aren’t even worth biting in this state.” For some reason Fionna took this offensively.
“Oh, so you’re saying I will taste too bad to even bother with?” she asked, her fear being replaced with irritation.
“That's exactly what I’m saying,” he said. “You do smell particularly good, and even in this state I would probably enjoy it, but still. I don’t like the taste of fear. I’ll only drink if you’re willing.”
“I am willing,” she said. He scoffed.
“Not like you were in that graveyard. Bending back and begging me to bite you,” he paused here to let out a little moan at the memory, his face obscene. “I can only imagine what you would have tasted like then.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just very nervous,” she said. “I can do better.” He laughed openly in her face, amused tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Her face reddened as he brought up a hand to wipe them away. She shoved at him, pushing him away from her in the bed. “It’s not funny! I can do better, I swear!”
“You know what, Fionna, in a thousand years I’ve never met another human like you,” he said, shaking his head slightly as if in disbelief. “This isn’t supposed to be something you want.”
“You fulfilled your end of the deal,” she said. He shrugged.
“Just don’t let anyone know the Vampire King let you off easy, I don’t want people thinking I’ve gone soft.” He began to hover off the bed, eyeing the open bedroom window he had apparently entered through.
Fionna was on him in a flash, her arms wrapped around his middle, attempting to drag him back. Her feet left the floor as he rose higher and she held on tightly.
“Glob, what is your problem, little girl?” he asked, trying to shake her off. She wouldn’t let go.
“I can do better, just let me try!” she yelled at him.
“I wasn’t even really going to bite you, you freaky little human,” he said harshly. She squeezed him tighter, refusing to let go, and his face softened as he looked down at her. “I mean, maybe I would have… I guess I almost did for a minute there, but I was always planning on letting you out of it. I just wanted to hear you grovel a bit first. It’s whatever, just stop clinging to me like this. We’re good, we’re even.”
“No we’re not,” she said as she lost her grip. She fell through the air, hitting the wooden floorboards with an ‘oof’. She looked up at him from the floor, and he looked down at her, frozen in shock for a moment before swooping down to check on her.
“Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” he asked, reaching out as if to examine her but stopping himself, his hand closing on nothing in the air. She rubbed at the back of her head, wincing slightly. It hurt, she had banged it pretty good.
“Uh, yeah, I think I did but I’m fine,” she said. Her face heated up as she caught his eye and became aware of how he was looking at her. “What?” she asked self-consciously. He let out an annoyed huff of air.
“You are ridiculous, you’re like a danger to yourself. In case you’re unaware you’re not immortal like me, and your panties are totally showing.” She looked down and cried out when she realized how her skirt had rode up in her fall.
“I’m aware I’m not immortal,” she said, quickly sitting up with as much dignity as was possible for someone who just fell in such an embarrassing way. She pulled her skirt down where it had ridden up, Marshall thankfully looking away as she readjusted.
“I’m not sure you are. I’ve seen you run into battles with monsters ten times your size with no regard to your own safety. The Ghost Lord last week, and that troll a few days before that, humans aren’t supposed to-”
“Wait, have you been following me around or something?” she asked, cutting him off. She was suddenly suspicious of how he had turned up in the graveyard at the perfect moment to rescue her and Cake. For some reason the thought of what he was doing there hadn’t crossed her mind.
“Of course I have, I’m literally a hunter, you’re my prey, that’s kind of how it works,” he said, sounding exasperated.
“But you won’t bite me,” she said, raising an eyebrow. He ran his hands through his hair, looking at her like she was some crazy thing he had never seen before.
“You are seriously messed up,” he said in wonder. “Like, something is wrong with your brain. If you keep tempting me like this I won’t be able to stop myself.”
“Go for it,” she said, turning her head to the side and allowing her hair to fall off her shoulder, revealing her neck to him. He looked at her for a long moment, and at first she thought he was going to argue against it, but she saw something shift in his eyes.
He settled himself on the floor next to her, and she thought he would be on her in a flash, but instead he just sat there, observing her closely for several moments.
“You’d really let me do that to you?” he finally asked, and she was prepared for the question.
“Yes,” she said immediately. “I want you to bite me,” she said, and she wasn’t just saying it, she meant it. She allowed herself to feel the desire to feed him, trying to keep the fear out of her mind and body.
He had pulled through on his end of the deal, and she was going to follow through on hers, no matter what. She was willing to do whatever she could to make it good for him, he had saved her and her sister. He said she had to want it, she would let herself want it. It actually wasn’t that hard to want it, the feeling came easily to her. Ignoring her fear and allowing herself to feel it was the difficult part.
He reached out and cupped the back of her neck, his thumb stroking up and down the side. She relaxed back into his hold, compliantly tilting her head back to give him better access. She closed her eyes, calmly waiting for the pain to come. She felt the wet heat of his open mouth against her neck, but he wasn’t biting.
He licked at the skin of her pulse point, the feeling of his tongue on her skin making her shiver. He paused at this and pulled away, looking at her in concern.
“You’re sure it’s okay?” he asked. She peeked open an eye to glare at him.
“Marshall Lee, if you don’t hurry up and bite me right now I am going to clobber you,” she threatened. He laughed and she tensed up, pulling her head out of his gentle hold and shoving him.
“Alright, alright, if you want it so badly I’ll bite you,” he said, a ridiculous toothy grin on his face. “I just, uh, this is kind of a big moment for me. I sort of have a way I’d like to do things, if that’s cool.”
“Okay, I’ll do whatever you want,” she said. This seemed to peak his interest.
“Whatever I want?” he clarified, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Within reason,” she added quickly. He nodded.
“Alright, fair enough. Do you mind if we do it back at my place, though? I… kinda have a way I’ve pictured doing this for a long time.”
“What exactly do you picture me doing back at your house?” she asked, and he cringed slightly.
“I mean, it’s not really like you’ll have to do anything different, just uh, if I only get one shot at this I know how I’d like it to go.” He seemed uncomfortable, his eyes anywhere but her face as he talked.
“Will it make it better for you?” she asked.
“Yes, so, so much better,” he said. She shrugged.
“Alright, your place it is.”
“Okay,” he said, looking at her like he couldn’t believe his luck. “Wow, okay. Well, I’ll come back to get you tomorrow night, then, if that works.” She looked at him, confused.
“Wait, why not tonight? Like, right now?” she asked. He cringed a bit.
“I live alone, my place is a mess,” he said quickly. She laughed, gesturing around to her room, which looked like a tornado had swept through it.
“Do you think I really care about that?” she asked. He frowned in response.
“Well, I do, and besides that I don’t have any human food. You’ll need to eat after. And I want to prepare myself, like eat a bit beforehand so I’m not too hungry and I don’t get carried away.” She was a bit disappointed, but had to admit he had a point.
“Alright, well, I can’t do it tomorrow, I already committed to helping Turtle Prince with a bookworm problem at the library,” Fionna said. “Maybe the day after?”
“No, that won’t work for me, I have a thing going on in lumpy space that night,” Marshall replied. She groaned.
“The night after?”
“Yeah, that works for me, what about you?”
“Yes, that sounds great,” she said. They met eyes and exchanged a nervous, excited sort of smile for a moment before the awkwardness set in.
“Alright, well, I’ll see you in three nights,” he said, floating up off the floor. “It’s a date.” He winced a little as the word left his mouth, as if regretting his choice of wording.
“It feels more like an appointment,” Fionna mused. “Whatever, I’ll see you then, I guess.”
“Uh, yeah,” he said, lingering by the window for a moment longer than was strictly necessary.
“Ummm… bye then,” she said. He gave her a little wave then ducked out of the window, flying off into the night sky.
Thus began the longest three days of Fionna’s life. She could hardly focus on anything, her mind kept wandering even during the most difficult tasks to think about her ‘date’ with the Vampire King. She was oddly looking forward to it? She told herself it wasn’t the biting she was looking forward to, just the urge to settle a debt, but she couldn’t even fool herself. By the third day Cake, who was still in the hospital, demanded she be reexamined by Doctor Prince, claiming she was clearly suffering from some lasting effects from her concussion.
Fionna left her hospital room swearing she was going to be reexamined and fill her in on her results tomorrow, which Cake accepted. Instead of heading to the examination room she left for the treehouse. The sun was still up, she didn’t know what time Marshall would come for her. Her heartbeat quickened in response when she thought of him.
When she got home she showered and put on clean clothes. She spent a long time brushing out her ridiculously long hair, really just for something to do, if nothing else. She wanted to eat but felt so nervous she was afraid she would throw up if she tried to. She flipped the pages of a book, not really reading but more so to keep her hands busy as night fell outside.
As soon as the night darkened she heard a tap on her window. She looked over as he swung the window open, poking his head inside.
“Hey,” he said, and she smiled, putting her unread book down.
“Hi.” She noticed a small flush on his cheeks as she stood up and threw her hair over her shoulder, allowing him to catch a glimpse of her neck. His eyes were drawn to it.
“Your hair, uh, looks nice,” he said, gulping slightly as she approached the window.
“Thank you, Marshall.”
“So, Fionna, listen,” he began. “If you’re having any second thoughts, it’s okay. We’re still cool.” She rolled her eyes, reaching up for him. He grabbed her under her arms and pulled her up and through the window, holding her against his chest tightly as they hovered together.
“I still want this,” she said before glancing down. She squeaked, burying her face into his neck. “Just don’t drop me.”
“I won’t,” he said, and she felt the movement of the cool night’s air against her skin as he flew her away. She kept her eyes closed for the most part, but did peek a little at the end. She had to admit it was really pretty to be up in the sky at night.
She kept her face buried into his neck, and he kept his arms wound around her tight. She didn’t feel like she was at risk of falling, but she didn’t entirely enjoy the helpless feeling of relying on him. No sooner had she wondered what a vampire’s home looked like had he dipped into a dark cave. He descended in front of a suspiciously normal looking two-story home hidden inside the cave. He didn’t release her until she felt her feet gently bump against the ground.
“So you live here, then?” she asked, looking at the home. He appeared a bit self-conscious, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Is it alright?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s great,” she said, heading to the front door without waiting for an invitation and throwing it open. “Just not very demonic. Oh, cool, you have a couch and a TV and everything.”
“Of course I have a TV,” he said, following her inside. “I’m a person, not some monster.” She gave him a little side-eye as if she intended to argue against this but then spotted his ax guitar.
“Hey, I remember you chasing me around with that,” she said. He grimaced slightly, remembering the days he had spent tormenting her.
“Yeah, uh, sorry about that,” he said awkwardly.
“Remember when you said you were going to give me a ‘close’ haircut with the blade of it?” she asked, her tone playful.
“I remember,” he said regretfully.
“You aren’t going to try to do that again, are you?” she asked with a smile.
“No,” he said quickly, hesitantly running a hand through her hair. It felt good. “I like your hair, I wouldn’t cut it… It was just a bad joke, I was just messing with you.”
“I know,” she said, then spotted something in his kitchen. The table was made out for one, a covered cooking pot at the center of it. She looked at him curiously. “Did you cook?”
“Uh, yeah,” he said, averting her eyes.
“But I thought you didn’t eat human food,” she said.
“It’s not for me, it’s for you,” he said. “I uh, it’s important for you to eat first, so you don’t like, pass out or anything.” She walked over to the table and uncovered the pot, peering inside. “I’m sorry if it isn’t any good, I’ve never really cooked before… it was confusing.”
“I’m sure it’s fine, it’s hard to mess up pasta,” Fionna said. She grabbed the fork that had been laid out for her and stabbed into the pot, pulling out and slurping up a spaghetti noodle loudly. He silently watched her from the corner, and she tried to ignore him. It was pretty uncomfortable.
“Hey, like, you can actually sit down and use the plate I put out for you,” he eventually said. “You don’t have to eat it out of the pot I cooked it in like an animal.” She snorted at him, taking another bite of spaghetti. It was a bit overcooked and mushy but completely fine compared to some of the questionable things she had eaten in her life.
“I don’t want to hear about table manners from you,” she said. “There’s less dishes this way. Besides, I don’t want to sit here. There’s only one chair.”
“Well, I live alone, why would I need two?” he asked defensively.
“Dunno, I’m just saying, it’s weird to be the only one sitting.”
“Just sit down and eat the damn spaghetti,” he said firmly.
“I don’t want to sit here and eat spaghetti while you just stare at me from the corner waiting for me to finish eating so you can take your turn to eat me. It’s like you’re trying to make this as awkward as possible.”
“I’m not trying to make it awkward, I’m trying to make you comfortable,” he said, sounding annoyed. “Humans like spaghetti, I did my research.”
“I do like spaghetti,” she said. “I just don’t like being watched while I’m eating. Can we like, turn on the TV or something? Sit in there while I eat, maybe?” she asked.
“Oh, uh, yeah. I have some old movies,” he said, and she scooped a plateful of spaghetti and followed him into the living room. He was crouched in front of a DVD player, putting in some old pre-war movie that was unfamiliar to her. She sat on the couch and frowned.
“This is really uncomfortable,” she said. He stood up and gave her an annoyed look.
“I’m trying here, okay?” he said. She laughed at him.
“No, I mean like the couch. This couch sucks, Marshall. Come try it.”
“Oh,” he said, approaching her and sitting down next to her. “You’re right, it does suck. I never sit on it so I didn’t notice before. I usually hover.” They laughed together, the awkwardness vanishing on the spot.
There were a few inches of empty space between their bodies that Fionna was acutely aware of. She had her plate resting on her lap as she watched, only half aware of what was playing on the screen. The other half of her attention was caught up on the empty space between them. She finished her food without really tasting it, standing up to bring her plate back to his kitchen. She felt his eyes on her as she walked away, but when she came back he was focused on the TV unblinkingly, and she suspected he was just as mentally preoccupied as she was.
She didn’t need him to do all these things to make her feel comfortable, all she really wanted was… Well, she just wanted to remind him all of this was okay with her. When she sat back down she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her head on his lap. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing. He placed a hand on her head, running his fingers through her hair absentmindedly as the movie continued playing.
She closed her eyes, far more interested in the way his fingers combed through her hair than she was with the movie. She didn’t have to look up to know his eyes were on her, she could feel his direct gaze. She wondered when he would bite her. He said he had a specific way he wanted it to play out, she hoped he wouldn’t make her do anything weird or humiliating. It seemed like something he would do.
His hand drifted lower as it worked through her hair, eventually stopping at her neck. He brushed the stray strands of hair away and lightly touched her skin. He caressed her neck lovingly, tenderly, as if he were afraid if he touched with any sort of force she would immediately break. He added just a bit of pressure at the corner to feel the pulse of the artery there and quickly pulled his hand away. She looked up at him and met his eyes.
“Are you ready?” she asked. He nodded, swallowing dryly.
“Can you go up to my room and get on the bed?” he asked. “I-I’d like to do it up there, if that’s cool.”
“Alright,” she said, eyeing the ladder leading to the second floor. She stood up and took a step towards it, noticing immediately that he was not following her. “Are you not coming up now?” He averted her eyes, staring at the far corner of the room instead. His hand that had been touching her so tenderly was in his lap, closed into a tight fist.
“I just need a minute to clear my head first,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”
Fionna climbed the ladder and emerged directly in Marshall’s room. She looked around, not finding this room very demonic either. There wasn’t much in here, recording equipment, a few keepsakes, he had apparently just vacuumed, and the thought struck her as funny. She would have laughed but then she noticed his bed. She felt suddenly hesitant as she approached it, holding out a hand to feel his sheets.
They felt soft and smelled clean. He must have just changed them in anticipation of her arrival. She put some pressure on the bed and felt her hand sink into it. It was soft and comfortable unlike the couch. She crawled on top, nervous anticipation swirling around in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she should just sit there or lie down? She settled for sitting, her legs tucked neatly underneath her. She wasn’t sure what she should do with her hands. She had never before worried about what to do with her hands.
She saw the top of his head as he rose from the ladder hole, floating up instead of climbing. Oh glob, she had never figured out what she was going to do with her hands. She clasped them on her lap, her back unnaturally straight as she sat there.
Marshall observed her and she didn’t meet his eyes, looking down at her clasped hands instead.
“You seem really tense,” he said. She gave a little shrug, not looking at him.
“I still want this, I’m just really nervous,” she said. “Will it hurt?”
“Yes,” he said. He sounded closer, but she was too scared to look up. “You can still say no, Fionna. I’ll let you leave, I’ll even take you back home.”
“I want this,” she repeated. She felt the bed sink slightly as his weight settled on it. The next thing she knew his hands were on her shoulders, gently pressing her back into the bed. She allowed it, not looking at him until he was lying next to her, pulling her against his chest.
“Let me help you relax,” he said. She tensed up a bit, but he only held her tighter in response.
“What do you mean by that?” she asked.
“I’m just going to hold you,” he said. “Is this okay?” She nodded, feeling herself melt into his touch.
“Yeah,” she said. Slowly she curled her arms around him, too, and they rested like that for a while. It was comfortable and warm in his arms and she couldn’t help but relax despite the nervous excitement she felt. Fionna was finally starting to think it would be a good place to fall asleep when she felt his hands start to move.
He began brushing her hair off her neck, clearing himself a spot. He stroked it again and again, slowly dragging his fingers across the skin as if savoring the feel. His grip on her slackened, and she let go of him in response. With the most minimal amount of pressure he rolled her from her side to her back.
He pulled at the fabric of her shirt at the shoulder, seeing how far the elastic in it would stretch.
“You might want to take this off,” he said. “I don’t think the blood will wash off it, I don’t want it to get stained.” She looked down at her shirt and then back at him.
“Will you really make such a mess?” she asked. He shrugged. “Alright,” she said, and she grabbed her shirt at the lower hem and pulled it up and over her head in a single motion. She wasn’t completely exposed, as she was wearing a bra, but she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable by it. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to hide as much of herself as she could from him.
“You have a beautiful body,” he said, grabbing her arm and gently pulling it away. His eyes were looking down at her chest and abdomen while he spoke. “You shouldn’t try to hide it.”
“O-okay,” she said, allowing him to brush her arms to her sides. She felt like his gaze was burning a hole in her as he inspected her. His hand was on her shoulder and she felt his thumb slide under the strap of her bra.
“Better take this off, as well,” he said seriously, giving the strap a little tug. She slapped his hand away and glared at him.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said. He laughed, the rich sound of it diffusing the tension in the air.
“Well, it was worth a try, I got further than I thought I would, anyway.” He grabbed the hem of his own shirt and pulled it off before crawling on top of her. Her breath hitched and he watched her closely as he moved, but she allowed it.
He settled on top of her, covering her body with his own. She kept her legs shut tight, not allowing him to settle between them, forcing him to straddle them with his knees. She squirmed under him, the feeling of skin-on-skin so indescribably intimate and unlike anything else she had ever felt before.
She tilted her head to give him access. He propped himself up on an elbow, brushing away her hair from her neck before dipping his face down to smell her. He inhaled the flesh of her neck deeply and let out a little groan.
“You smell so good,” he said, one of his hands settling on her thigh and gripping.
“Thanks, I guess,” she said, feeling her heartbeat speed up in response. “I’ve never been told that before. I’m glad you like it.” She felt him press his nose against her skin and greedily breathe deeply again and again. His other hand found her hair and tangled in it, pulling at it to urge her to arch back more. She complied, tilting her head back as he guided it.
“I don’t just like your scent, it’s literally intoxicating to me,” he said. “I just can’t get enough of it. I want to taste you.”
“Go ahead,” she said.
“Just let me know if you want me to stop,” he said, his words muffled as he spoke them directly against her flesh.
She felt a wet line drag up her neck, from her collarbone to her ear. His hand began rubbing and gripping her thigh as he moved, and she wasn’t sure if he was even aware he was doing it. She gripped the sheets instinctively, the fabric balling up between her fingers. He licked again and then placed a line of kisses up and down her wet skin. She felt her skirt begin to run up her thigh, his hand moving higher. She shifted and one of his knees found their way in between her legs.
He dragged his tongue up and down over the side of her neck several more times before opening his mouth and sucking. She moaned at this, her back arching off the bed. There was a wet noise as he detached himself from her.
“Everything okay?” he asked. She nodded fervently, afraid of what would come out of her mouth if she spoke. As soon as she nodded her consent he was back at it. She couldn’t hold back her little noises, and they seemed to be encouraging him.
He placed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses from the top of her neck to the bottom. Her thighs drifted apart a bit more and his other knee found its way in between them. Everywhere his lips touched burned like fire, her skin coming alive under his ministrations. She finally couldn’t take it anymore and let go of the sheets, wrapping her arms around him, her nails digging into his back.
He pressed tightly against her, sealing their torsos together, and she spread her legs further apart to allow this. His kisses became rougher and she wrapped her legs around him, moaning openly when she felt him pressing against her. He sucked at her skin harder, leaving little red marks in his wake. He pulled his hand out of her hair and cupped her chin with it, pushing her jaw up in a way that was borderline uncomfortable.
He looked down at her with his red eyes for a moment as if admiring the wet marks he had left all over her skin. He settled on a spot at the corner of her neck, right where the thrill of her pulse beat. She felt his teeth graze against her, their sharpness scraping gently across her soft skin. He did not clamp down, instead gripping her thigh painfully, and she understood his hesitation. He needed her to remind him that it was okay, to reaffirm her willingness to allow him to feed off her.
“Please,” she gasped, feeling his fangs graze against her again, this time with more force. She could feel her skin pulling under their sharp points, if he pressed any harder he would surely puncture through. If her mind hadn’t been so clouded with want she would have been impressed at his restraint. “Please, Marshall, I want you to bite me,” she said, her arms and legs shaking with how hard she was gripping him with them.
He pulled away for a fraction of a second and then with a low hiss he clamped down on her neck in his chosen spot. There was a stabbing pain, she had been expecting that, but what she wasn’t prepared for was how good it felt.
His mouth sealed around the spot and she felt as he sucked, the warm blood pouring out of her soothing the pain from the puncture. She moaned openly, grinding her hips up against him as she felt him swallow mouthful after mouthful of her freely flowing blood. His hand that had been on her thigh slid all the way up under her skirt, settling on the top of her hip and forcing it into the mattress as he pushed his face impossibly closer. He was sucking and swallowing in a rhythm that matched the slow grinding of his body against hers.
She longed to match his movements above her but she couldn’t. She couldn’t really do much of anything except lie there powerlessly and let him have her. It suddenly struck her how trapped she was, he had her in an inescapable hold. He had her body pinned with his own, one hand on her hip and the other clutching her face, locking her in the perfect position for him to use however he wished.
Stars began to dance in front of her vision faster than she thought possible, but he wasn’t slowing down. If anything he had sped up his pace. She began to feel tired and lightheaded, an odd sort of sleepiness washing over her.
“M-Marshall,” she said, her voice groggy. The onslaught of sensations that had overwhelmed her up to this point suddenly felt distant, as if they were happening to another person and she was just experiencing them second-hand. He didn’t break his rhythm of sucking and swallowing, and she was faintly aware he was doing something with his hips against hers she probably would have really liked if she had been more awake to enjoy it.
She opened her mouth to speak again but blackness was rapidly descending on her. Her grip on him slackened and her arms fell limply onto the bed at her sides. She thought she could have heard her name, but she was probably just imagining it. Her head lolled to the side as an empty sleep overtook her.
Fionna woke an indeterminate length of time later to the sound of someone calling her name. She made a noise of acknowledgement without opening her eyes, sleep calling her back. Her name was said again, louder, and it began to annoy her. She tried to roll on her side but strong hands gripped her shoulders and shook her roughly.
“Ouch!” she cried out, her eyes opening and an arm flying out to smack whoever was messing with her. Her arm was sore and tired, however, and didn’t make it far. Her vision was blurry from sleep and her neck ached.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry,” Marshall Lee’s voice sounded beside her. She blinked a few times and looked over at him curiously.
He was in the bed next to her, his hands still on her shoulders, but where was she? And why was he with her? And why did the feeling of him lying next to her and holding onto her body feel so familiar? She licked her dry lips, the questions piling up.
“Thirsty?” he asked as if he had read her mind. He had a glass of water at the bedside and pressed it into her hands before she even had a chance to nod.
She brought the water to her lips with shaking hands and gulped. She was so thirsty and her mouth was so dry that it was the best water she had ever tasted in her life. She swallowed and swallowed, small rivulets of water leaking out of the corners of her mouth and dripping down her neck. Within seconds the glass was empty and he took it from her to place it back on the nightstand.
She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, and then at her neck. She grimaced, feeling the pain radiating off of one side of her neck. She gingerly probed the area, feeling the punctures, the events leading up to her obtaining them coming back to her in a flash. Marshall was looking at her regretfully as she touched her neck and she looked up to meet his eyes.
“W-why is my skin so cold? You didn’t, like, make me a vampire, did you?” she asked. His eyes grew wide and he shook his head quickly.
“No! No, I was just icing it,” he said, reaching for a melted ice pack that had been discarded on the table next to the empty glass of water. He held it up as proof, his hand shaking slightly. “I swear, I didn’t do anything but feed on you… Well, I mean… I didn’t do that, at least.” His face grew red as he stopped talking, averting his eyes from hers.
“You were icing it? Why?” she asked, feeling one side of her neck and then the other to compare. She realized he had to be telling the truth, the unbitten side of her neck was perfectly warm. She held out her hand and saw her flesh was the same very human color it always had been.
“I thought it would help with the pain and swelling,” he said.
“Oh,” she said, settling back into bed, nestling her body against his. She expected him to wrap his arms around her and pull her close but he didn’t move, his body tense against hers. She looked up at him curiously, but he quickly looked away, not meeting her eyes. She realized how warm he felt against her and looked down. She saw she was still topless, just her bra covering her breasts.
“I, uh, shouldn’t have taken your shirt off,” he said, his eyes on the ceiling. “It was wrong of me.”
“You didn’t want to get blood on it,” she said. He let out a mirthless laugh, finally looking down to meet her eyes.
“That was bullshit, y’know I just wanted to see your tits, right?” he asked, and he sounded angry. She didn’t answer, unsure of what to say. He didn’t seem to be waiting for a response at any rate. “How much do you remember? You know what, don’t answer that, on second thought I don’t want to know.” His tone was harsh and it was hurtful to her to hear him talk this way. What they had done had been the most intimate thing she had ever experienced with another person.
“Why are you upset with me?” she asked directly, never being one to beat around the bush. The anger in his face drained in an instant to be replaced by confusion.
“What? No, I’m not upset with you, I’m upset with myself,” he said quickly. He opened his mouth as if to say something else but then thought the better of it and remained silent.
“Why?” she asked. He gaped at her.
“Because I took advantage of you,” he said. She snorted, putting an arm around him to try to cuddle closer to his chest.
“I was more than willing,” she said. He put a firm hand on her shoulder, pushing her away from him. He looked down at her sternly.
“Look, you don’t have to suck up to me like that, I won’t bite you again, I promise. You don’t have to act like you’re not afraid of me. Don’t worry, I’ll let you leave once you’re strong enough.” Fionna met his eyes and looked at him for a long moment. Did he seriously trick himself into thinking she was so scared of him she would show affection to get on his good side and escape? What was even wrong with this man to think he was so ridiculously unlovable?
There were so many things to comment on it took her a second to figure out what to say first. “Why won’t you bite me again? That was like the best experience ever,” she said. He looked horrified.
“Um, because I nearly drained you dry? I didn’t stop until you passed out under me. Do you even remember what I did to you while I was… While I was drinking?” he swallowed dryly, appearing grossly uncomfortable.
She squinted at him, trying to remember. He had rubbed himself between her legs, but she had matched that as best she could. Nothing more serious than that had happened that she remembered, and they had been clothed, well at least mostly clothed.
“What, did you like have your way with me or something after I passed out?” she asked. She looked down, seeing her skirt and panties were still on, and she didn’t feel an ache or anything between her legs. If she were being honest with herself the situation had filled her with so much longing and desire the only thing she would be upset about if he had would be that she couldn’t remember it.
“No, I didn’t do that,” he said, cringing as he spoke. “Not all the way, at least. I, uh, ground myself against you and touched you more… more than I should have while I was drinking… I didn’t do anything once you passed out though, I swear!”
“Oh, yeah I remember all of that,” she said. “That was fine, I didn’t have a problem with it.” She was really tired from the blood loss and the arguing. She cuddled against him and he wrapped his arms around her, not as tense as he had been before but definitely not relaxed either.
“It was fine?” he asked, a hand finding her hair and he began to stroke it. She sighed, closing her eyes, preparing for sleep to take her.
“Yeah, maybe just don’t drink quite so much next time if you can help it,” she said with a yawn. “I don’t want to feel this drained after every time.”
“Next time?” he asked, looking down at her in wonder. She didn’t reply because she was already asleep, a faint smile on her lips.
Art by Momilayde on Tumblr/Instagram