"He isn't your father! I'M your father!"

And maybe he has a point, as much as Marceline hates to admit it.

"I let it go when you were little. I get it. He was there when I wasn't. But he isn't Simon Petrikov anymore. He's the wackjob Ice King. You have to let it go, Marceline. Let him go."

But he's still in there. It still feels the same way it did back then…if she closes her eyes…

"He's too far gone. You won't ever be able to pull him back from where he is. You got to stop clinging to that futile hope!"

She knows.

She knows and she wants to bury that thought deep within her heart and never let it falsely torture her every waking moment she's near him.

But she just wants to be around him -

"To do what?! Play hoops and games while he's all dandy and you're suffering? I'm supposed to be okay with that? No way!"

It really is okay, though. She's fine now. It doesn't hurt as much. Ice King is the surface, but simply knowing that Simon is at least alive in a way makes her happy that they can be together. Be friends together.

"He already made you cry once, Marcy, hell if I let him do it again!"

What is it that she wants so badly?

Hunson has always been jealous of Simon. The very mention of his name made Hunson angry. It was simply obvious that upon "surprise visiting" her at her house and seeing Ice King there, Hunson went completely mental.

He just started screaming.

Marceline didn't know what else to do other than to tell Ice King to wait outside while her father got through his fit.

He raved and cursed and reasoned with her…

It hurt to think.

Thankfully, the Nightosphere was in taxing season. Her father couldn't stay for long.

But he sure as heck made it feel like forever until he finally opened a portal out of her house. Left her thinking and confused.

In the wake of the noise and the ringing in her ears, Marceline decided that maybe something was wrong with her.

She and Abadeer were patching things up. She had a father. She didn't have to go around nursing her pretend dad.

She has a reputation. She was one of the most powerful beings in Ooo. Ice King would soil that rep the minute anyone got wind of the situation.

What did she want? What did she need?

She loved the man that helped her 1000 years ago. She respected his memory.

But he wasn't her dad. Barely a friend and at the same time he was more than a friend.

It was so complicated. So strange yet so needed.

"Marcy?" his voice is so different yet the melody is identical, "…is he gone?"

He's so scared. Confused. Freaked-out basically and Marceline doesn't know what to tell him…

She wraps her arms around his neck. Presses him closes and looks at the blinding white of his beard.

"You're not my dad…"

"Huh?"

Such an Ice King answer…

Yet it was just so Simon.

Before she can control herself, her eyelids start to drop, "…but I love you any way."

Kissing her guardian was never the plan.

Having sex with him wasn't either.

They were playing Scrabble for Glob's sake.

"Oh, God, yes…God, please…"

She just wanted her cold dead body to feel the heat of something. To feel him rocking in and out like the rhythm of her guitar…

"m-Marcy…n-no…"

Too late for that. She holds him down as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. Shame and the echoes of his memories making him feel guilty for touching her this way.

"Simon just…j-just keep…going…"

He doesn't know who Simon is. Ice King's at the wheel. Pressing down on her. Hard and fast and wanting.

He makes her gasp as he bites down at her skin. Gripping her waist he pulls her up to meet his thrust.

It's heavenly. It's wrong.

She's been in the wrong for a thousand years, doing so now isn't gonna kill any body.

"Simon…"

He pushed into her. Deeply with the love he always had. Wanting with the greed the crown gave him.

"Marceline…" he half-growls, half yearns into her ear like a mix of a tyrant and a lowly court jester. "Marcy…Marcy…"

So wrong, but she can't stop the heat of him inside her. She needs him.

"Please," the motion is hard and thick, "please keep going…"

He's amazing.

The way he thrusts her into the carpet of her living room floor…all wrong with it's teal blue…pink walls…it's too much for what he's doing to her.

"Oh…o-Oh…s-Simon…"

He growls again. Needy. Aggressive and possessively insane.

It's so sick and she loves it.

The way their hips bounce and join with each other. Sharp clashes and total bliss…

God, it's to much…

"More, more, more…!"

She's wanton by now. Confused, hungry. She just needs him to show her the peak.

"Marcy…"

Yes. Yes, Marcy…

"I'm your Marcy…"

"Marcy…" his speed is faster, more erratic, so strong and crazy, "Mine…"

"I'm yours, all yours…" her breathing his husky in his ears, she wants to drive him over the edge of his insanity. "Make me yours…"

If she belongs to him, than maybe people would leave them alone…

The hungry bites he leaves on her body. In her chest, the sloppy kisses he gives her. Like a rapid dog getting his favorite meal. His naked body pressed so closely to hers that she's drunk with the weight of him.

The friction. The burning. Over and over…

She spreads her legs wider, just to feel him more. He hungrily accepts this, moves his hands over her, memorizes her curves. His control is amazing. He wants to give it to her. Give it so he can feel fulfilled.

She screams something when he finally peaks her.

The way back down is less than glamorous, but she expected it to be.

It's not a total crash course, but overlapping her tiredness is the sense that what happened would change things she wasn't ready for.

He rolls off of her a bit clumsily. Exhausted by the moment their heavy panting fills the room and the void left open. She's so extremely aware of the stickiness between her thighs. Where it came from, how it made her lust. The naked man beside her.

At this point she's not sure who she wants him to be.

"y…You didn't…call me…s-Simon that time…"

Her eyes widen a little. The words repeating in her head.

The shadow of the name she screamed itched at the base of her throat.

Maybe Simon was dead.

The man that ravaged her would have never been Simon Petrikov. On the same subject, she would have never done this with Simon…

They were so naked…and her house was so cold…

"Ice King…"

He looks at her with a dark little gleam in his eyes.

It doesn't make sense. Why did she want Ice King? Why did she just destroy Simon?

She has a father. She no longer needed someone to protect her, she could protect herself.

Did that mean Simon was redundant to her? At least…to her situation?

To keep Simon…she made herself desire the Ice King?

What kind of logic was that?

Maybe…because she didn't need Simon as a father or protector…but still wanted him to be important and special…she decided to find something he could give her? Something she did need?

Through this thing with Ice King…Simon would still be relevant?

Ice King wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes but couldn't find a way to make this feel okay. Her head hurt. She felt safe.

She could always think about it later.