Sugarless gumdrop it is my anons. Apologies that it took me so long to get this fic out. I love you guys, and I just want you to know that I never forgot about you. Never ever.
Words: 853
Rating: K+
If asked, Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum would explain that she had never envisioned her future to end up the way it did. She had spent a great deal of her younger years pining for a Prince that would never exist. Well, at least not a Prince in every sense of the word. Bonnibel, though scientifically inclined, had an imagination. One that she had used to imagine that she would spend her later years married to a hunk and taking noontime walks through the Candy Kingdom’s lush gardens. But as she progressed through her life, those daydreams she had dwelled on as a child became less and less the future she actually grew to want.
“Yes, dear?” She stood from her vanity, gathering her petticoats and observing as Marceline took a step back and gestured her hand towards the door.
“You ready to go? She glanced out the window, checking to make sure the sun had gone down all the way before looking back to Marceline and nodding.
“Let me guess, he’s waiting at the door again?” Bonnibel cooed to Marceline as she slid her arm into the nook of Marceline’s elbow. As they began walking through the corridors of her castle, Bonnibel squeezed herself close to her, feeling the gentle rumble of a chuckle in her chest.
“You can’t expect him to not be excited. After all, we only get the opportunity to do this once a month.” She looked up at Marceline, catching her gaze briefly and nodding in understanding. The rest of their walk to the castle’s front doors was in peaceful quiet. A calm before the storm.
As soon as they rounded the corner into the waiting room, the sound of excited yips and barks began to echo throughout the chamber. Marceline broke away from Bonnibel, shifting into a wolf just before a pup of the same coal-black hue tackled into her. For a few minutes they wrestled together, a blob of dark fur and pearly teeth, as well as playful growls and yips. Bonnibel stood back, arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes.
“Ahem.” her deliberate throat-clearing caused the ruckus to immediately halt. “If you are thoroughly finished, I would like for us to begin leaving now.” she watched on as they broke from each other, remaining in their wolven forms. “And I would like for us to walk there, this time. On two feet.”
They sat on the marbled candy floor, staring up at her. Bonnibel tried, and failed, to not notice the glistening sparkle of both Marceline’s crimson eyes and that of her son’s cerulean ones. She tilted her head back and groaned in defeat.
“Fine. Where’s the basket, Marcus?” The pup jumped to his feet and scampered off across the room to where Bonnibel’s throne was. Before she could command him to do otherwise, he jumped up onto the seat and retrieved a wicker basket. He brought it back in his teeth, leaving slobber on the handle that Bonnibel grimaced at before tentatively accepting it. After wiping the handle clean she looped her arm through it and hiked up her skirts, throwing her leg over Marceline’s furred shoulders.
If it hadn’t been for years of practice from riding Lady Rainicorn, she would undoubtedly had taken a nasty spill as Marceline bounded off. Bonnibel curled her fingers into the midnight pelt and hunkered down, flowing along with the movements of Marceline’s effortless lopes.
It took almost no time for them to reach their destination. When they came to a stop, Bonnibel dismounted Marceline and gazed from the hillside back to where the Candy Kingdom stood in silence. The sound of rough-housing and merriment brought Bonnibel’s attention back to where Marceline and Marcus were now human and chasing one another around the valley below the slope.
Bonnibel had a hard time believing he’d already grown so much in just four years. Marcus had gotten more of Marceline’s looks with pitch-black hair and sharp facial features. His complexion though had taken after Bonnibel’s, more pink than grey. When it came to the abilities that he grew into, the shapeshifting had been the one Marceline found most exciting, though Bonnibel could have cared less for the fur that began finding it’s way into her sheets at night. He was capable of eating solid food instead of having to drink shades of red, which Bonnibel enjoyed since it saved some of the color in her kingdom, but the most important aspect was that he had Marceline’s vulnerability to the sun.
“Marcus! Marceline! Get up here and eat!” Bonnibel had finished setting up the blanket and a small candle before calling them from their playtime. As they trudged up the hill towards her, she couldn’t help but muse quietly to herself, recalling old daydreams of walking in sunbathed gardens. She didn’t miss the thoughts and certainly didn’t miss her naive portrait of a perfect life.
No, Bonnibel had come to prefer the glow of the moon far more than the sun any day.
Dearest Anon, how do I love thee, let me count the ways... I wrote you smut. The end.
As for the "real life AU", I just decided I would use the Stripped AU as my basis for this one-shot. So, if you've never read Stripped now may be the time. And since this is the case you can imagine IT IS NSFW. SO NSFW.
And as always, I love you all. You're the most beautiful and wonderful and I always enjoy hearing from you.
Words: 1602
Rating: M+
The day had been long for Bonnibel. Between meetings, corporate bargainings, and phone calls, she was beginning to resent the CEO job. She sighed and the sound of it reverberated in the empty space of her office. Leaning back in her office chair, she unpinned the bun that had been sitting at the back of her skull, letting loose the strawberry-blonde locks.
“Mrs. Bubblegum, you have a visitor.” Bonnibel reached her index finger out and pressed a button down on her phone.
“Bonnibel Bubblegum!” Her stomach dropped. She’d know that voice anywhere.
“Rita.” Bonnibel’s smile was fake and hollow but friendly nonetheless.
Bonnibel had known Rita since she had become CEO of her father’s company. Rita had been an integral part of her upbringing in the political world of owning a business and if it hadn’t been for her, Bonnibel may never had gained her foothold. That didn’t mean that Bonnibel liked her, though. She actually loathed Rita, for many reasons, and once the she had hurdled the initial learning curve she sent Rita on her way. Well, she tried to.
Before Bonnibel could protest, Rita had crossed the room and taken a place behind her desk. She propped her bottom against the edge of the writing surface and leaned forward, her fire-red curls framing her chubby and freckled face. Bonnibel remained still, her body pressed tight against the chair in an attempt to put as much space between them. She could feel the heat of Rita’s breath as she placed her hand on the headrest of Bonnibel’s chair.
“It’s been a long time, Bonnibel.” Her words were low and graced with the air of persuasion.
“It has, Rita. I’m sure you heard about my getting married about three years back.” It wasn’t a question. Bonnibel meant it as a threat; a warning.
Rita chuckled sinisterly. “You remember all the fun we use to have, right? Why let a silly little thing like marriage get in the way of a good time?”
It happened faster than Bonnibel had anticipated and before she could flinch away, Rita had pressed their lips together. It was sloppy, unnatural, and Bonnibel could feel her stomach rise in her throat.
That moment turned out to be when Marceline walked in.
“What is going on here?!” Marceline’s voice was booming, causing Rita to recoil and snap her gaze to the door. Bonnibel wiped at her mouth in disgust, frantically trying to remove Rita’s lipstick from her face.
Marceline trudged across the room and gripped Rita by the collar of her suit jacket.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but if I ever see you again you’ll be waking up in a hospital.” She growled the words in Rita’s face before hauling her to the office door and tossing her out. Marceline added a swift kick to her rear as she stumbled forward, causing her to fall flat on her front before she slammed the door closed and locked it.
“Marceline-” she turned around to face Bonnibel, her hands balled into fists. The livid look in her eyes cut Bonnibel’s words short.
“No. Don’t you ‘Marceline’ me. What was that about?!” Marceline jabbed her finger at the door as she stalked towards where Bonnibel was standing behind her desk.
“It wasn’t anything! One moment I’m sitting here, and the next she’s forcing herself on me!” Bonnibel was still wiping at her lips when Marceline got to her. She stayed on the opposite side from Bonnibel, her arms crossed over her chest and her jaw set.
“You didn’t really seem to be resisting. Is this a common occurrence, Bonni?” Bonnibel furrowed her brow at Marceline in disbelief.
“What? No! I haven’t touched another person since I met you!” Marceline scoffed.
“Sure doesn’t seem that way to me! Who knows what you’re up to here when I’m not around! Maybe I’ll just find someone to keep me company when you’re not at home.” She turned her back to Bonnibel, making her way for the exit. Before Marceline took a step, Bonnibel reached across the desk, grabbing her by the hood of her jacket and dragging her across the surface until Bonnibel was able to wrap her arms around her.
They struggled against each other until Bonnibel bit down viciously on Marceline’s shoulder, snarling her words through clenched teeth. “Now listen here.” she tore away and Marceline’s fingers instinctively gripped at Bonnibel’s hand as she gasped. “I am yours just as much as you are mine. And if I have to,” Bonnibel’s hands snaked across Marceline’s body, “I will mark you as my own.” She lashed out again with her teeth, gripping the flesh of Marceline’s neck and eliciting a restrained scream. Marceline’s fingers flew to Bonnibel’s hair, grasping a handful of tresses and drawing her in.
Their gazes met and the tension mounted. Marceline’s eyes shifted through several different emotions until she finally smirked wolfishly, her body language becoming challenging. “Do it.”
Bonnibel wasted no time in ripping the hoodie and the shirt beneath it from Marceline’s body. She wanted at her skin and when her nails met the smooth and supple surface of Marceline’s body, she dug in. Bonnibel drug both of her hands across her torso, one above her breasts and the other across an undulating stomach and relished the bright crimson welts that appeared. Her lips sucked at the flesh of Marceline’s neck, nipping and pulling, until she released it to reveal purplish marks.
Marceline’s voice mounted as Bonnibel freed the bra from her body and gripped her breasts. She tweaked each pert nipple between her thumb and forefingers, rolling and tugging at them. Bonnibel put her lips to Marceline’s ear, running the tip of her tongue against the outer edge.
“If you don’t stay quiet I’ll have to make you shut up.” Bonnibel whispered the words low and harsh. Marceline’s chest heaved against the palms of her hands, pushing against them to gain more pressure.
“And how are you- hnah, going to do- mmh, that?” Her words came between sensual moans. Bonnibel reached to her jacket pocket and removed the handkerchief she found there. Balling it up, she pressed it into Marceline’s mouth to quell the noises.
“That’s better.” Bonnibel’s grin was ruthless and Marceline stared back at her, wide-eyed and blushing. Bonnibel held their eye contact, the smirk never fading as she ran her fingertips down Marceline’s toned abdomen to the button of her jeans.
With the finesse of an expert, Bonnibel popped the button loose and slid the zipper down. Slowly sliding her fingers beneath the hem of Marceline’s cotton panties, Bonnibel slipped further down until she was met with the slick feel of Marceline’s drenched womanhood.
Ignoring Marceline’s sensitive bud she traced along her outer lips until coming to her flowing entrance. Collecting some of the wetness on her fingers, she teased her digits back up the heated area, swirling around Marceline’s engorged jewel. At the touch, Marceline’s hips bucked forward, wanting to be stroked again. Bonnibel dipped her head down and slid the flat of her tongue against the bite marks she had left, soothing them, before she slid her fingertips down and plunged her digits inside of Marceline’s awaiting passage.
Bonnibel was rough and thrusted inside of Marceline with as much force as she could. Each time she entered she curled her fingers inwards to brush against the sensitive spot inside. She held Marceline against her, rocking with her through each dive of her fingers. They melded together; hips rising to meet thrusts and chests rolling together. The pad of Bonnibel’s hand ground against Marceline’s erect bundle of nerves with each movement, and she could feel Marceline’s tunnel beginning to tense around her digits.
If it hadn’t been for the cloth that Bonnibel had forced into Marceline’s mouth the scream that tore through her throat may have warranted someone calling the police. She clamped her hand over Marceline’s lips to dampen the sound as her fingers continued to work diligently within her. When the guttural moans ceased and Marceline’s body came to a shuddering halt, Bonnibel reached up and removed the handkerchief from her mouth.
For a long while the only sound in the room was Marceline’s exhausted panting and the subtle tick of the wall clock. Bonnibel held her, kissing the red marks on her neck and tasting the saltiness of the sweat that covered her body until she finally pulled herself from Marceline’s throbbing channel.
“Now. If we have everything settled, I need to get back to work.” she wiped the remnants of their activities on her napkin before placing it in a drawer in her desk. “Also, I’ll be expecting compensation for this when I get home tonight.”
She sat back in her chair and began tidying the papers that had fallen on the floor. When Bonnibel looked back up Marceline was busy pulling her hoodie back on. She turned to face Bonnibel, a sly grin on her lips. “Shall I get dressed up for the occasion?”
Never peeling her eyes away from the papers in front of her, Bonnibel smiled. “Mhm. And if you don’t mind, I think I’d prefer the red lingerie tonight.”
Marceline laughed softly before leaning across the desk and placing a kiss on Bonnibel’s forehead. “Whatever you want, Princess.”
You guys are getting two in one day! Man, how lucky are you?! As for the people who's dashes I'm starting to clog with all of these fics. Totes sorry. I don't mean to be a burden, I promise.
Oh, and if you haven't read it, this fic and "Smoke and Mirrors" go well with each other. I would enjoy them over coffee. Maybe some scones.
Words: 1094
Rating: K+
An accidental tumble is not something Bonnibel would expect from the Vampire Queen. She was usually the most graceful being in Ooo. So why then, of all times, would she wind up with Marceline like this?
“Of course it had to be warm today.” Bonnibel grumbled, hoping that Marceline wouldn’t hear.
“That has nothing to do with it! Why would you even be in my lab in the first place?!” She attempted to storm off but the tug at her scalp stopped her. Marceline just sniggered at Bonnibel’s failed attempt.
“Geez Bonni. Maybe I’m just waiting for the right time to snatch you away.” The words were sultry and close to Bonnibel’s ear. Her heart gave a labored dup and the skin on her arms goose pimpled. She pretended to ignore it and continued the trek to her lab with Marceline in tow.
When they entered, Bonnibel sat down on a stool and dragged Marceline around by the jumbled mess of their combined hair and forced her to sit down as well. She observed the mess and groaned. It was going to be more difficult than she had previously calculated.
“Are you certain you won’t let me just shave your hair off?” Marceline scoffed at the offer.
“What, don’t wanna spend any time with me?” It was Bonnibel’s turn to scoff.
“I thought you’d enjoy the shaved look.” She just shrugged her shoulders at Bonnibel, balancing her chin on her hand, and her elbow on her knee. With a drawn out sigh, Marceline assumed a bored expression.
“Yea. Probably look like a dude, though. Hey, how long is this gonna take, Bonni?” Bonnibel tugged on a pair of gloves and attempted to unscrew the cap to the peanut butter jar.
“Hrn- I’m not certain. Urgh- our hair is pretty tangled.” She took a momentary break from trying to loosen the lid and Marceline snatched it from her hands. It seemed effortless with the way she popped it open. Bonnibel chagrined as she passed it back to her.
“Thanks for loosening it for me, Princess.” The tone that Marceline used was by no means malicious, which Bonnibel found odd all in itself.
“You don’t have to patronize me.” She just shrugged again as Bonnibel dipped her fingers into the jar, greasing them gratuitously.
It was an odd day when Marceline was quiet. The silence was off-putting for Bonnibel to say the least. As she began smearing the butter into their combined hair she stole swift glances at Marceline, each time noticing the obvious droop to her posture.
“What’s wrong? Is it so bad spending time with me?”
“Wha-? Oh! No way. I was just...” she trailed off and lowered her eyes to the floor, “thinking.”
Bonnibel’s fingers were beginning to work pieces of Marceline’s hair away from her own. “Thinking about what?”
“I don’t especially want to talk about it.” Bonnibel glanced up briefly, her work only faltering a moment at Marceline’s somber words.
“You should anyways.” She stopped and looked up, gauging Marceline by the way her expression was first choleric, than crestfallen.
“Yea. I probably should.”
As she waited patiently for Marceline to collect herself, her fingers went back to work at their locks. The peanut butter was working perfectly and Bonnibel only hoped it wouldn’t run out before the job was done.
Just when she began to think that Marceline was content with staying quiet, she spoke again. “I guess I’m just starting to notice the way I feel when I’m around you.”
Bonnibel looked up, dumbfounded. “And how do you feel?” If their hair hadn’t been matted together, she knew that Marceline would have left after saying that. Bonnibel’s mind went into overdrive, placing pieces of an imaginary puzzle together.
“I guess I-” Marceline darted her eyes around the room, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I think I like you.”
She swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat as her eyes locked with Marceline’s. Her palms were beginning to sweat inside of the rubber gloves and Bonnibel felt so ill she could swear she was coming down with something. “Marceline. You’re only infatuated with me. We both know it would never work out.”
“Why wouldn’t it work out?” She sounded dejected and Bonnibel lowered her eyes back to their hair. Her fingers moved swiftly so that she could separate herself from Marceline sooner.
“I know you want to take me away from here, Marceline, but this is where I belong.” the end was in sight and Bonnibel started working at the last few globs. “I’m a Princess. My place is in this kingdom and it would be...” the hair was finally untangled and Bonnibel leaned away, pulling the gloves from her hands. “irresponsible of me.”
“Than you feel the same way?” Marceline propped herself up with her hands on her knees as Bonnibel sighed delicately, flicking her wrists to dry her palms of the sweat.
“I’m aware of my infatuation with you, yes, but that doesn’t make it an intelligent decision.”
Marceline’s gaze fell to the floor and Bonnibel’s was quick to follow suit. She couldn’t peg why she felt as badly as she did for speaking the truth. Stretching her arm across the space between them, Bonnibel set her hand atop Marceline’s.
“I still want to be your friend, Marcy. In the end, I think we’re better off as just that. Friends.” They stayed silent until Marceline broke it by abruptly standing and shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans.
“Yea. You’re right. Just like you always are, Bon.” she smiled and, for a moment, Bonnibel was certain it was genuine until Marceline turned away and she watched as she discretely slid the sleeve of her shirt across her face. “Whelp, I’m gonna go. I’ll see yah around!” With that, she kicked off from the ground and slipped out of the laboratory window.
It was weird for Bonnibel to admit that she felt unsatisfied about the entire encounter. For hours she mulled over why her silly infatuation was getting the better of her, and why it all felt so out of place. Finally, just as she was laying down to rest for the night, she realized why it had all seemed so out of place.
Marceline hadn’t “accidentally” fallen. She had done it on purpose.
I took a bit of creative license on combining these without turning it into a 6,000 word epic. I smooshed you two together because you are perfect for one another. And I love you. And I just want you to be happy ;-;
Words: 1200
Rating: K+
It was one in the morning when the abrupt sound of Marceline kicking in the french doors of Bonnibel’s room rung throughout the castle. She had been prepared for that sort of entrance but snapped the quill in her hand in half regardless.
“Do you mind telling me what this junk is I found pinned to my front door?!” Marceline stormed across the room and slapped the offending envelop in front of Bonnibel. She picked the parchment up from her desk and observed the Candy Kingdom sigil on the front, already aware of the contents inside.
Marceline’s mouth fell open in disbelief and she poised her hands on the edge of Bonnibel’s desk, her fingers curling around the lip. Bonnibel merely pushed her chair away, refusing to rise from her sitting position. If Marceline wanted to childishly throw around furniture, she would let her.
They stared at each other, mentally battling for dominance, until Bonnibel sighed. She removed the crown from her head and set it on the writing surface. “Mind telling me why a friendly letter has you so wound up?”
“You could have just came in my house and talked to me!” Bonnibel narrowed her eyes.
“Did you even read the letter?” Marceline paused, resting her chin in between her index and thumb, assuming a thoughtful expression.
“Well, I mean,” her brow knit together in concentration, “I read the first paragraph, and it was pretty dry. So I just sorta...” she dared a look at Bonnibel. The intense smouldering of muted anger she glimpsed flustered her and the rest of her sentence came out choked. “skimmed it?”
Bonnibel tipped her head back and let out a groan. “If you had read the letter you would have known I was far too busy to have delivered it myself.” she stood and crossed the small space between them, craning her head up to look Marceline in the eyes. “You also would have known the reason why I felt more comfortable talking to you here, instead.”
Confusion graced Marceline’s features and Bonnibel looked away as her typical cold demeanor crumbled. “What’s going on?” There was genuine concern in her voice.
They stayed in silence while Bonnibel mulled over her options. She eventually moved to her desk and retrieved a handful of papers, extending them to where Marceline stood. “When I was dealing with Braco and examining his infatuation with me, and I decided I would run some other tests against it.” Marceline flipped through the pages and huffed.
“I can’t make heads or tails of these charts, Bonni. You know this isn’t my forte.” Bonnibel moved next to her and pulled out two similar charts from the selection.
“Sorry, I expected it to seem obvious.” she ignored Marceline’s mumbled ‘of course you would’. “This graph here is Braco’s emotional wavelengths whenever he was thinking about me.” Bonnibel jostled one of the papers. “And this one is my emotional wavelengths whenever I was thinking about-” she cleared her throat tentatively. “Whenever I was thinking about you, Marceline.”
Marceline’s back straightened and she swiped the papers from Bonnibel’s hands. She held them side by side, then over and under, and at one point she even placed them on top of each other and held them to the soft glow of a lit wall sconce. Pursing her lips she handed them back to Bonnibel. “They’re pretty much identical.”
“I know.” Bonnibel sat them back on the desk and gazed up at Marceline.
She looked away from Bonnibel. Midnight locks curtained her eyes and all she could see of Marceline’s face was the way her fangs dimpled her lower lip as the edges of her mouth curled downward. “I thought we decided a long time ago that we were better off as just friends.”
“We were naive. You had some grandiose idea of stealing me away from my kingdom, and I figured that in time I would forget about how I felt around you.” she reached out and smoothed her palms against the collar of Marceline’s plaid shirt. “My question for you, Marcy, is when does it stop being infatuation? When does it become something more?”
Bonnibel began to doubt that Marceline would ever answer her until she expelled a breath she had no need to take. “You’ve never been good at deciphering your feelings, have you?” She looked back at Bonnibel, taking her hands from her collar and squeezing them softly.
“No. Science is more reliable. Concrete. Emotions are...” she felt herself grip Marceline’s fingers tighter, her eyes pinned themselves to a button on her shirt that had come loose, “incomprehensible for me.”
“Well,” Marceline stepped in close and Bonnibel picked up the familiar scent of damp forests and exotic flowers, “the real question, Princess, is do you want it to be something more?”
She looked up at Marceline, and for the first time since she had known her, she really looked. Bonnibel freed her hands and cupped Marceline’s face, running the pads of her thumbs over high cheekbones and across long, dark, lashes. The tips of her fingers brushed the length of Marceline’s angled jawline and back behind pointed ears that flicked at the touch. She observed the way her irises were honeycombed with vivid reds and speckled golds, just like a raging fire.
As Bonnibel placed her under her scientific observations, she realized that there had never been anything more beautiful to grace her life than Marceline.
“I do want it to be something more.” Bonnibel barely breathed the words. She knew Marceline had heard them by the way her mouth pulled to one side in a fanged grin. She leaned down and placed her lips on Bonnibel’s. It was sweet, and soft, and Bonnibel knew the swirling sensation in her head was just a mixture of chemicals, but she relaxed into Marceline’s arms and enjoyed it anyways.
When the moment broke and Bonnibel had cleared away the fog in her mind, she pushed her palms against Marceline’s chest. They unraveled from one another and stood awkwardly for a moment before Bonnibel found the ability to speak.
“It’s late. The sun will rise soon.”
“Ah, yea. I should probably get home.” Marceline glanced over her shoulder to where the window displayed a subtle pink horizon.
“You know,” Bonnibel spoke up as she followed Marceline to the balcony, “I’ll be free again when night falls. If you want to...” she met a lack of words and settled for the first to come to mind, “hang out.”
Marceline smirked as she floated off the ground. “Yea. Before midnight?”
“Before midnight. And if you’re late this time I won’t hesitate to lock the doors.” Chuckling, they savored one last kiss before Marceline flew away. Bonnibel watched her go until she disappeared, a wry grin across her face.
They both knew that even if the doors had a lock on them, Bonnibel would never latch it.
Absolutely, my beautiful anon! I hope this is acceptable
Words: 747
Rating: K+
“Marceline.” Bonnibel’s tone is condescending and unnecessarily harsh. You’ve always hated it when she addresses you that way.
“What?!” You snap at her and regret it when the stoic Princess facade fades to reveal bruised emotions.
“Please. We’ve discussed this before. Why are you changing your mind all of a sudden?”
The moment drags on, and Bonni lets it. She’s letting you think, and wonder, and maybe she’s even hoping that you’re imagining your future after this drastic change. You are.
There’s a sudden moment of clairvoyance, as you’re thinking about your band and how you’ll have to give that up too, that you realize that it doesn’t matter if it takes away from your life. You’re going to live forever anyways, right?
Giving an audible sigh, you turn back to her. “I’m sorry Bon, I guess I’m just...” there’s a pause as you search for the right word. “being dumb.”
She raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “That’s it? Convinced so easily?”
“Yup.”
“This isn’t something I want you to regret, Marcy.” Bonni sits by your side. You take a moment to note how silly the medical gloves that are still constricting her hands are in this situation. “I-” she falters. It makes your chest clench. She clears her throat. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually want to be your problem.”
You stiffen at her words and the blatant use of your lyrics. A blush starts to settle across your face. You decide to play it cool. “Yea, yea, I know.”
“Are you sure?” She guides your eyes to hers with the subtle press of fingertips against your chin. There are remnant signs of tears on her cheeks and you wonder how you ever could have missed them. Reaching out, you cup her face and put on that serious look that you only ever use when it really matters.
“I promise, Bonnibel.” The bright-eyes and ecstatic smile that cross her face make your stomach somersault. You kiss, and she gets up, and you’re happy.
At least until you see how massive the needle she comes at you with is.
****
It’s late. Even Bonnibel is asleep, but there you lay, eyes open and body still. Just like a corpse. You feel silly about smiling at your own joke and gently ease yourself out of bed, being careful not to wake her.
If anyone asked if you had been worried, you’d have said ‘no’ even when the truthful answer was ‘yes’. The silence in the room was deafening, and even though your hearing could make out the distinct and rhythmic droll of heartbeats, it still had you wanting to bite your nails off.
You float across the room and expertly scoop the bundle from the crib. Holding it to your chest, you lower your ear till you can make out the hooooph-hooooph of his little breaths. Sighing in relief you tilt back mid-air, keeping him close and brushing your fingers through the silky patch of dark locks on his head.
It had been a hell of a ride. Bonnibel had been ill for the majority of the first month, and you both had been worried. It was a miracle and a nightmare when she had gotten her appetite back, though. You couldn’t remember how often you found yourself mixing ice cream in with chili at absurd times of the day. And if anyone was stupid enough to get you started on the actual birth, they’d have their ear full of it. Only you truly knew how strong Bonnibel’s grip was.
The boy wriggles in your arms and you let him situate. You know you’re smiling like an idiot at such insignificant actions but you don’t care. What you’re holding in your arms is magical. A portion of yourself, and the final piece to the puzzle that had been your insignificant life.
You can’t remember why you thought you’d ever regret it.
