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Marceline could see the orange glow of the bedside table’s lamp miles before she could see the castle bricks themselves. She knew that the chances of the princess still being awake wouldn’t even have to be debated; 1am was practically noon for Bonnibel Bubblegum. As she drew closer to the princess’ bedchambers, she slowed herself and made sure she was completely invisible before entering a particular eyeline by perching herself on the windowsill.
There she was, Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum, reading from a textbook and recording her findings in the small notepad beside it. Leave it to PB to be the one studying while the rest of Ooo slept. Marceline watched her for a moment, the same way she’d watched her all those years prior. Only this time she wasn’t welcome to do so. This time, she hid and stalked. This time, she played the pathetic part of a banished predator; she was something unwanted. At least she was used to it, she supposed.
Though she knew this, she stayed and eyed the woman before her. She knew Bonnibel knew she was there, and Bonnibel knew she was being watched. After centuries upon centuries, who couldn’t taste their soulmate's atmosphere? Who couldn’t feel their emotions within the temperature of an enclosed room?
The princess took a sharp breath, closing over the textbook as she exhaled. With her back still to the vampire, she spoke.
“Are you coming in or what?”
“You’re not busy?”
“I’m always busy, Marceline.”
Marceline, turning herself visible again, made her way toward the princess and stood at the foot of the bed, her expression remaining neutral as she locked eyes with the reason she did so.
A while had passed since their last session of the little arrangement they’d formed. It was a simple arrangement; a mere agreement, really. It was clear to both of them that without the fulfilment of their, well, needs, that their already extremely strained relationship became more than worse off. Not only their relationship to each other, but to their families, their friends, and particularly on Bonnibel’s side, their work.
They were in an odd situation, that was certain. Soulmates weren’t exactly prone to ‘breaking up’, and the concept of such was seemingly incomprehensible to any others. Thus, after centuries of relentless anguish, Bonnibel had swallowed her pride and proposed the arrangement to Marceline only months after she had returned to Ooo. Knowing all too well of the torment Bonnibel had explained to her, Marceline hadn’t thought for a second about any consequences her agreement to the arrangement may lead to. In fact, her agreement had led to the first clause that very night.
The matter was settled. Strictly for biological sustenance and in order to support the logistics of their soulmateship, they allowed themselves to advocate toward each of their needs by spending the night with one another when it was needed on either end. But Bonnibel had set rules in place, and Marceline’s stomach flipped as they were listed to her. The first was that there was strictly no romance at all involved in any of it. That meant no kissing, no talking, and especially no aftercare. Marceline’s excitement had slumped after hearing this, after she realised that Bonnibel really was serious about keeping this strictly ‘professional’. The second was that nobody at all could know that this was happening. The whole concept of the arrangement could become derailed from a single rumour or a gaggle of gossip. This was to be between them only. The third and fourth were that it was only to happen in either of their homes and that it could only be during the night to minimize the risk of them being caught. Those two definitely made sense to the vampire.
All in all, it was simple. They’d have sex when either needed it and not a word would be spoken of it to anybody, or even to each other. What was there to talk about when the only two individuals involved were there when it happened?
“Marceline?”
The vampire blinked, her daze escaping her. As she regained her composure, she cleared her throat.
“Sorry, was just thinkin’.” She answered in a small, almost reserved voice.
The princess hummed in recognition as she took her glasses off and began to undo the braid that fell down her back, breaking their eye contact. Marceline knew to take this as a sign to shut up and get ready, and she took her jacket off as she watched the princess unbutton her blouse.
“Hey, wait for me, I’ve still gotta take my sneakers off.” The vampire jokingly half-whispered.
Bonnibel’s expression grew stern. “Marcy.”
“I know, I know. Sorry,” replied the vampire, guilty through a hushed tone.
In truth, Marceline relentlessly struggled with the ‘no talking’ rule. She knew why, and, of course, it referred back to the ways they used to make love to each other; back when it was real and they were so in love it felt like nothing else existed at all. She’d whisper in Bonnibel’s ear over and over that she loved her without even meaning to. It was something that just came naturally, and upon this arrangement more than once she’d bitten down so hard on bottom lip to keep herself in check that she’d actually bled. That didn’t even compare to the way she had once felt hearing the princess scream her name as she neared her finish; a piece of music Marceline would play on repeat had she the chance. No crude intentions, no involvement of arousal, she could listen to the princess in that manner and come to tears from the beauty of her voice alone.
It killed Marceline that no matter how hard she tried to convince herself it wasn’t, her love for Bonnibel was something everlasting. Something overwhelming.
As she watched the princess completely undress herself, she could feel the hardness begin to form between her thighs. Realising she was falling behind, she dragged her shirt from over her head, smirking at the sight of the princess’s blush as it became apparent that she’d come here without wearing a bra. She’d also arrived lacking any underwear, but wanted Bonnibel to discover that for herself. Walking around to the side of the bed where the princess sat, Marceline stayed standing as she caressed Bonnibel’s neck, lightly gathering her hair up in her hands. Bonnibel, knowing the vampire in this light like the back of her hand, knew that this meant she would be the one going first, and didn’t mind this one bit. Softly holding onto the vampire’s waist, she pulled her in toward her face, where her warm breath amid the cool air of the night caressed Marcline’s breasts, her nipples hardening.
The vampire let out a staggered breath as Bonnibel moved one hand upward toward her breast and the other down to the growing bulge that fought against the clothing it hid behind. With a gentle pressure, she held the shaft in her palm, slowly caressing it until she met its tip, at which point Marceline let out a soft moan. Feeling it become its capacity, Bonnibel dismissed her hands from their duties to toy with the waistband of the vampire’s pants, pulling them down behind her view and grabbing each cheek of her ass, smirking at the vampire’s growing frustration to be touched properly. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t growing frustrated herself, though, and decided to end the teasing in favour of the real deal. Besides, she was teetering on the dangerous grounds of her own rules already, and if she let herself get too carried away, she’d be moaning the vampire’s name without even caring.
Regaining her composure, she pulled Marceline’s pants down, blushing from the realisation that, of course, she wasn’t wearing any underwear either, and let her step out from them. The vampire fixed her grasp on Bonnibel’s hair, her eyebrows furrowing and her jaw clenching as she felt the warmth of the princess’s mouth softly caress her tip, her tongue swirling around its girth. She felt her foreskin stretch slightly as the princess pulled it back and moaned as her head fell back in pure pleasure. She couldn’t help herself; her hips suddenly took over any composure she had and began to softly thrust, Bonnibel’s throat accepting this without a second thought. As Marceline let out short breaths, Bonnibel couldn’t breathe at all, gasping as the vampire pulled out of her. Grabbing her hips again, she dragged Marceline onto the bed beside her and let her get a full look at her as she lay fully exposed, illuminated by the orange of the lamp and the white of the moon.
Through barely a whisper, Marceline whispered “Fuck” as she looked over the princess’ body; not in lust, but in grief. She wanted to cry, to scream that she was sorry and that she still loved her and always would. That she’d be better and that she’d grown and she would never treat her that way again. Instead, she crawled atop of her, looked her in the eyes for a second longer than she probably should have, and kissed her.
And to her incredulous surprise, Bonnibel didn’t even squirm. In fact, she’d wrapped her arms around her shoulders and kissed her back with just as much passion. As they pulled apart, Marceline could swear she saw the princess’s eyes welled with tears. She desperately wanted to ask if she was okay, but Bonnibel was already guiding her hand toward her lower heat, and Marceline knew to take this as a sign to ignore it. Begrudgingly, she did. Bonnibel had covered her face with the duvet, but as Marceline worked her fingers into her depths, the princess instead turned to bury her face in the vampire’s neck, something that hadn’t happened in centuries. Though shocked, Marceline followed Bonnibel’s lead and tried her hardest not to acknowledge it.
The flavour of the atmosphere danced amid Marceline’s tastebuds. She knew that if her heart could still beat, this facade she’d managed to uphold would’ve sold her out years ago. She wanted to whisper in her ear that she loved her and she wanted to hold her the way she had done centuries ago, back when this anguish was something so unknown she hadn’t even understood what the word meant.
Then, the last thing she would’ve predicted happening only hours before, the princess moaned loudly, still buried in the crook of the vampire’s neck, “Marceline, baby, I need you”
She didn’t even have to think and didn’t even register what she was doing. Pushing the princess onto her back, she lifted her legs and bent her knees, lining herself up with the heat of her entrance. Then, gently, Marceline lowered her upper body so that her face met Bonnibel’s, the princess’s legs instinctively wrapping around the vampire’s torso, and she lent down to kiss her again. Both women moaned into the other’s mouth as their bodies connected, each having to compose themselves in order to not finish within the first few thrusts. Bonnibel pulled away from the kiss, burning herself in the vampire’s neck once more and Marceline followed suit.
It was only as she became excruciatingly close that the vampire realised she had stained the princess’s shoulder in her own tears, but was too overwhelmingly immersed to care. Bonnibel, too, was dangerously close to the end and could feel her walls swell and entrance become almost painfully tight. She was out of her own body, nothing but a being of feeling. As she began her climax, this being screamed her soulmate’s name in pure need, as the soulmate screamed a confession of love for her in return.
The pair panted amid each other’s necks, but it was Bonnibel’s sniffle that brought Marceline out of their trance.
“Hey, hey,” she whispered as she tried to meet the princess’s eye, but Bonnibel had covered her face, sitting up as she began to sob heavily.
Marceline, in complete disregard toward her own tears, tried her hardest to comfort her, but she had no idea what to say at all. “Shit, um, h-hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” she whispered, but it was clear that Bonnibel had already cut her attention clean off, and it didn’t matter at all what she said to try to combat it.
Instead, Marceline stood up from the bed and headed toward the bathroom, praying there’d be a cup or a glass or whatever in there for her to fill with water. It was only as she was filling up the glass left on the counter by the sink did she notice the blockage of her nose and the stinging of her eyes. Looking up into the mirror, she saw both the stains of old tears and the newly formed rivers of the moment present. Scolding herself harshly, she almost dreaded going back into the bedroom. Why the hell did she have to kiss her? Was this whole thing ruined? Would she have to spend the rest of her life in pain solely because she couldn’t control herself? She wiped the tears from her face. She wasn’t the one who mattered right now. She’s going to hate you for the rest of your life but she’s going to hate you even more if you leave her crying right after you have sex with her. Grow up, Marceline, she thought.
She didn’t notice the fresh pool of tears that ran down her face as she opened the bathroom door, where she faced a puffy-eyed, messy-haired, still naked Bonnibel.
“H-here.” Marceline stuttered, almost shoving the glass into the princess’s hands.
The princess softly shook her head, pushing Marceline’s hand away from her as she reached up to hold the vampire’s face, wiping away the tears with her thumbs.
“No, it’s okay, I-I’m looking after you, Bon.”
Tears fell from the princess’s eyes once more, but went ignored by their owner. Instead, Bonnibel took Marceline’s free hand, guiding her back into the bedroom. Marceline almost felt sick. She was going to force her to get dressed and leave without explanation; she was going to send her off with the message that if she ever saw her again, she’d be imprisoned for treason. The vampire felt her palms become warm as they neared the bed, the princess sitting amid the aftermath without acknowledgement, and, to Marceline’s genuine surprise, inviting her to sit next to her.
“Bonnie, I-I’m, I just-” Marceline spluttered
“Did you mean it?” The princess whispered, dragging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them.
“I- wh- um, mean what?” Marceline asked as she sat on the edge of the end of the bed.
“Come here, Marceline.”
The vampire gulped, but obliged regardless of her apparent fear, sitting in the same position as the princess.
“Did you mean it?” Bonnibel repeated, with slightly more authority in her voice.
Marceline wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly what she had meant. It wasn’t the kiss, and it wasn’t the sex. She’d told Bonnibel that she loved her for the first time in centuries and was acting like she didn’t know why she was upset. Glob, maybe she hadn’t grown up at all.
“B-Bon.. I- Fuck, I mean- I just,” she started, before taking a deep breath and telling herself to get a grip.
“I never stopped, Bonnie. And I know I acted like it at the time, but, oh my Glob how I wish I could take it all back.” she continued, her voice cracking and her eyes welling up again. Before she knew it, her breathing staggered and the tears ran faster than she could stop them.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.
The princess took the vampire by the shoulders, laying her down so she could hold her and stroke her hair the way they used to when she was upset. It was muscle memory if anything, and yet both women sobbed almost inconsolably, staying that way for the minutes it had taken for them both to gather themselves.
As their crying ceased and their breathing slowed, their pair faced each other with an unbroken serenity they hadn’t known for centuries.
“I didn’t stop either, Marceline.”
The rays of the sunrise fought to overshadow the hue of the lamp as it rose above the castle, its warmth cascading over the two bare bodies that now slept; intertwined for the first time in centuries.