They were NOT a thing.

Friends would be confused about the two of them; about why they spent so much time together if they truly hated each other, but it was complicated. Things happen. There's alcohol and hormones and whatever. No one could deny that Bonnibel was one of the best-looking girls in the incoming class, and that matters sometimes. Alright, alright maybe she was cool to hang out with too, when it came to movies and coming to see the Scream Queens, but that was it. She was also a huge judgemental, controlling, narcissistic nerd. One that was always scolding Marceline about smoking or yelling or chewing with her mouth open. No, they would never, ever be a 'thing'.

But shit gets complicated.

It was true, they did get it on pretty heavily at the basement show two weeks before, right after The Scream QUeens ended, but it was a total accident. Something about all the excitement and the drinking tricked them into it. Not to say it wasn't totally awesome, but it shouldn't have happened. The house was a little while off campus, and some of it was re-build into a DIY venue for the local college bands. Marceline really made an impression on the scene, for being a Freshman at least, and they killed it after headlining that night. She would blame everything that happened on the adrenaline.

They met over the summer, while she was forced to take some prerequisites on campus and she hated Bonnibel the moment they met.

"You need to put this in MLA format, and all your quotes aren't even cited," the other girl chided with a vicious tone. "Ugh, this could be considered plagiarism, haven't you ever written an essay?"

Bonnibel was allowed better financial aid for tutoring the summer kids, and boy did her fucking condescending attitude come out over research papers.

They ran into each other again during the first semester, being placed into the same Gen Ed classes. Art History being one of them, they were forced to spend more time together while more confrontations were bound to ensue. Studying became even harder.

"It's not dumb just because you suck at it," Marceline scoffed after Bonnibel insulted the class out of frustration.

"It is dumb, because it's useless." She raised her voice and scattered the index cards about The Renaissance. "We study all the time, and I still don't even get it." The library echoed with growing tension.

"Chill out, don't be such a brat because you can't rag on anyone for being dumber than you this time."

"Fuck off, Marceline."

They cut off studying together. It just wasn't working out.

They dormed in the same building, and coincidentally had friends in common. They both always sighed exasperatedly when the other was invited to group activities, avoiding eye-contact and throwing back-handed comments made for uncomfortable outings sometimes, but once in a while, they would strike a good note and peace would resonate in the group.

"What was up with that?" Bonnibel's roommate Lady questioned after a night at the movies, which included Marceline and the other boys. She and Marceline had agreed on what film to watch, and proceeded to nerd out completely on their Sci-Fi fandoms, favorite actors, Japanese horror films and the like. The two seemed like they were off on a completely separate date after that, sitting beside each other voluntarily and commenting on the movie the whole time, almost frame by frame. Marceline showed off her prized Tie-Fighter Squadron Star Wars patch on her denim jacket, and Bonnibel consciously avoided criticizing the stitching, to keep from ruining the nice relation.

"What do you mean?"

"You were so buddy-buddy. Usually you're spitting and scratching at each other." Bonnibel's roommate, Lady, was suspicious.

"Oh," she looked away and thought. "I just never met another person with Empire paraphernalia."

"You were like, sitting in her lap the whole time, jeez."

She spent the rest of that night, thinking of what Japanese horror film remake to watch with Marceline in the future, but at that time, she replied with, "I don't know, it was just exciting."

Hanging out more often seemed like it happened on its own. It was effortless and unplanned. Marceline found herself waiting outside the lab for Bonnibel to get out so they could get dinner, and Bonnibel found herself waiting up for the phone calls she'd get from the other girl before bed whenever they went back home. Conversations ranged from their favorite Power Rangers to their first boyfriends. They'd laugh at each other; at Bonnibel's nerdy reading glasses or at Marceline's really regrettable tattoos. The arguments would still happen; the stubbornness always found a way to ruin a good evening. A fight over which dorm they'd both sleep over, which restaurant to eat at or what music to play in the car. It never kept them apart for too long. Bonnibel completely bitched out about her coming to class really high (which seemed more hilarious than enraging), but Marcy still came to pick her up for dinner at the dining hall.

Bonnibel opened up after a knock. "What do you want?"

"Let's go eat."

"I don't wanna go with a druggie like you." She slowly tried swinging the door closed, but a palm against it interrupted her.

"Can you stop being such a judgy prude bitch and hurry up?"

She glared back at her for a second ("Kiss and make up!" Lady called from the background with a cackle), and gave in. "Just give me a second."

The walk was a little more quiet, which was nice for cool, frozen Winter air. The misty weather gave a nice atmosphere as it seemed like the clouds were crawling over the hills. Colors blended in beautiful hues of white in the setting sunlight as Bonnibel hit her spiteful face under her scarf. She tried very hard not to appreciate the time together, but failed. She looked up at the other girl, over her cloth, brow clenched regretfully. Marceline continued looking ahead, crunching ice under her boots.

"Marcy," she cooed softly.

"Aw, don't give me that. Marcy..." she replied, taking the pet name onto her tongue, feeling it out.

Bonnibel snuck her hand under the girl's pocketed arm, linking them together, still looking up at Marceline. "I'm going home this weekend again."

"That's fine." She kept looking forward, unrelenting to the apologetic gestures. "I have to practice for our show next weekend anyway." It was evil. It wasn't nice, but Marcecline wanted this vulnerable Bonnibel to suffer just a little bit longer. After all their arguments, it seemed like she was always in the wrong. It was a good change and she hated being the only one to lose every single time.

Her frown deepened. "Will you call?"

That voice, ugh, it was destroying her resolve. She couldn't give up so easily! Not yet. But that voice made her want to do anything that Bonnibel said.

"I, uh, I don't know if I'll have time."

She cursed herself inwardly; Bonnibel wasn't stupid. She was far from it, and Marceline knew she sensed the shake in her voice and her impending submission.

"Can I come?" Bonnibel squeezed her arm.

"Huh?" Marceline finally looked down at her. Bad move, she made the eye-contact with the pleading stare.

"To your show?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah, I mean- If you want to. Sure. Well, like, it's up to you y'know." Fuck. She quickly looked away.

"Marceline?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you call me?"

"Yeah."

The weekend came and rehearsal was as frustrating as usual. They practiced all day, but it was hard to get everything just right. As a Freshman, it was important to keep up the chops. The bandmates didn't go to the school, but they knew the stress just as well. They were coming to the conclusion of practice when Marceline remembered that Bonnibel went home without saying goodbye, and it was very inconsiderate of her to do. I mean, it's not that difficult of a thing to do, she pondered. What an inconsiderate jerk, just going off like that when I-

"Something bothering you, kid?" one of the members inquired, but she brushed it off.

There was homework to be done over the weekend too, laundry, tuition that needed to be payed. Midterms were coming up fast. All of these things were echoing through her mind as she stomped back to her dorm. Remembering the phone call she owed Bonnie
somehow was elating. Her spirits picked up a slight bit.

"Hey."

"Hey," replied the groggy voice. It was adorable, the slightly raised pitch sleepiness gave it. "You're home late."

"Yeah, we were practicing all day. Rough."

She heard the shifting of sheets, maybe in an effort to get comfortable or wake up, maybe. "Any good yet?"

"Ugh, I hope so. How is it back home?"

A grunt and a cough, "Annoying. Boring." The voice was still high and small, so relaxing and comfortable.

"Wish you were back here, huh?" Marceline layed in bed, cuddling the pillows tightly.

A bit of silence. Static hissed a little, with a whisper like waves.

"Bonnie?" She suspected the girl fell asleep, and as her heart quivered a bit, "You coulda at least said bye before leaving if you..."

"Yeah, I do." a sigh came in response. The quivering stopped. "I miss you."

A bloom of heat spread in Marceline's belly. Be cool, don't make it weird. She clutched the pillow tighter.

"I miss you too," she breathed.

"Oh yeah?" A giggle. "Miss getting yelled at?"

"After a while without it, it's almost lonely," Marceline laughed.

"I agree."

"C'mere then."

"Maybe I will."

Marceline fell asleep at night, holding the sheets tightly and dreaming of someone being in its place.

The house was completely packed with an audience. There were several crowds of lounging people, smoking outside, drinking in the kitchen. Lines for the bathroom went all the way outside, so people just peed in the yard. The unkempt lawn gave the rugged feel of an underground basement show, very appealing to the college crowds. The exciting tension hung around the room as the first band played, vibrating the house to its core. Casually, students fashioned in post-modern homeless clothes bong-ripped and made out as the noise banged on and on, dissipating into the night air. Marceline could have been a bit happier, but Bonnibel was nowhere to be found. Her bandmates were on the lookout as well, per instruction, but no luck.

She would come, for sure, she thought.

Bonnibel slept over four nights that week, for some reason. Just like how they hung out, it just seemed to happen all on its own, naturally. Some food, films, giggling and gossiping, then sleep. The other girl had earlier classes sometimes, and when she left in the morning there would always be a "Bye, Marcy" or a "Come pick me up, okay?", and a squeeze goodbye. Marceline could only reciprocate with a half-hearted sleepy grunt.

At night, the same voice in Marceline's head would say, 'Don't make it weird, be cool' but she didn't know why it would always say that. Sometimes the room would be a murky dark, interrupted by slivers and streams of chalky moonlight. The dusty light was so calm, as they faced each other, laying on their shoulders. It was supposed to stay cool and not weird, but fuck, the bed felt so throbby and hot that it was difficult to breathe without making so much noise. It was hard to not notice her parted lips, panting a little and dilated pupils sunken in the glitter of light. It felt like a spell that would shatter at a bad flick of the wrist or misplaced step. There were so many instincts begging to guide her, but fear made her shudder as a cloud of Bonnibel's vanilla scent wafted over; poisonous pheromones that threatened to break everything Marceline thought she knew about herself and everything else. She thought of all the bottles she opened and snow she shoveled in Bonnie's presence to impress her.

"Nothing to say?" Marceline challenged, noting the girl's nervousness.

Bonnie furrowed her brow and turned over, facing the wall. "Shut up," she gave with a shakey voice. With that, Marceline laughed and slipped close to her, holding Bonnibel's back close with an arm under the girl's neck. The rest of the night was filled with sleep and smokey vanilla scent.

Thinking about that night, Marceline chugged another beer. Her bandmates warned her not to get too trashed, but she insisted that it would help the performance.

By the end of the night, the whole house was rioting. Everyone was strung out on drugs and drinking, bottles were smashed, instruments destroyed, windows broken. Fights were broken up, furniture totalled, stains were on everything. Vomit pooled in several corners and soiled the bathroom; the place made for a complete mess. However, the performances were great, well-received and Marceline could not have asked for more. Especially when she stepped off-stage, past the brawling crowd to meet Bonnibel's embrace.

She crushed her into a tight, sweaty hug, smelling strongly of gross beer. Excitedly and affectionately, she peppered her throat with kisses, "You were amazing! Did you see me? I punched a guy!" Bonnibel muttered wetly against her jaw.

Marceline almost froze up at the gesture, but held her by the shoulders at arms-length. "How much did you drink?"

"I'unno," she giggled, throwing her arms around Marceline's neck, "A lot? Shhh, don't tell Marcy!"

"Bonnie!" The front of her shirt seemed to be damp with spilled beer. Marceline led her upstairs by the hand to find a change of clothes. "Ugh, why'd you get this plastered..."

In the bathroom, Marceline gathered the flannel she wore to the party and tried to prompt drunk Bonnibel to change.

"I'un wanna!"

"C'mon kid, that's so gross, you're all slimey and sticky."

"Undress me," Bonnie challenged, childishly. She had her arms crossed and a pout, but Marceline refused to lose. She stepped forward and held the girl by the waist, slipping under the wet cloth and trailing up her back. Bonnibel shut her eyes at the sensation, raising her arms in a stretch of the torso. Marceline was distracted by a beautifully revealed yet damp chest and ribcage. She was supported by a pink lace bra that sported droplets of liquid slithering from her cleavage. She tried to hide her stare but it was caught. "Anything interesting?" her coy voice teased. Her usually meek yet patronizing eyes never sported such a smoldering look. She stepped forward, slipping her arms over Marceline's shoulders playfully, bringing their noses close, breath mingling together.

"Doesn't it," Bonnie panted into their space, but broke off as her ribcage heaved with each breath. "Feel good?"

Marceline was shocked and statued in place as her brain melted and froze, surrounded by the scent of lemons and wet towels soaked with beer. Her palms were unconsciously leaning on the girl's lower back.

"Don't you like it? The way that feels?"

She couldn't respond, even as Bonnie traced her tongue over her bottom lip and down to her jaw, nipping gently while grinding her bare body against Marcy's slowly.

"Do you notice it too?"

Bonnie's teeth finally made it to her ear, where she hotly whispered through nibbles,

"Can't you tell how I want you?"

It complicated everything.

Suddenly, everything fell out. No one could figure out why. Both of them gave up on contacting the other. After the hookup, Marceline helped her friend back to her dorm with a gentle, loving kiss goodnight as she tucked her in. But after leaving, nothing made sense anymore. Naturally, that made things resort to the only way they knew; mutual distain and arguing. The weeks went on like this:

"What even happened to you two?" Lady questioned during the most tense outing of all. "It's even worse than it used to be."

They both scoffed, facing opposite walls. The other friends, Finn and Jake stared on in fear. They hated being caught in the crossfire; Lady was the only one ever brave enough to point out the elephant in the room.

It was so lonely for the both of them; they missed the phone calls and the making up part of arguing. It was fear that kept them apart for the weeks after the kiss. The fear of what would happen or what wouldn't happen. The fear that it would work or it wouldn't.

Marceline got up with another huff, not making any eye-contact with anyone. "I'm out of here."

"Wait! Wait!" Lady got up to stop her. "Don't you know what Friday is?"

She blinked in response.

"Valentine's day."

"So what?!"

Lady palmed her forehead. "We were, just like, thinking of hanging out, and drinking and stuff." Finn scratched his neck awkwardly and Jake coughed a little. "If you wanted to come. You know, friends singles night?"

Bonnibel budged in, "She'll just be grumpy the whole time anyway."

At that comment, Marceline spat, "I'll be there."

In Marceline's dorm room that night, the awful hatred tension seemed to melt away with each drink. Things get hazy after forgetting how many beers you've had. After several shitty drinking games and card games, they laughed and joked loudly, guffawing onto the ground and occasionally hitting each other. Bonnibel nor Marceline threw any tantrums or biting comments at the other, and it felt nice. Several competitive arm wrestles transpired and tickling matches, but after it died down, Lady suggested an activity,

"Let's play Never Have I Ever."

"What game is that?" Finn asked excitedly. "I always win this game."

"You cant win, dummy," Jake cut in, "and you just said you don't know what game this is."

"I'll win! For sure!"

"Alright, alright," Lady chilled the bickering. "This is how you play: we go around in a circle saying things that we've never done, and if someone has done it, they have to drink."

"Awesome!" Finn threw a fist in the air. "Me first!"

A sigh. "Okay, Finn."

"Alright, alright, alright," he slurred. "Okay. Okay, let me think."

"You suck," Jake huffed.

"Dude, shut up! Never have I ever owned a dog!"

Several of them drank, including Finn.

"You can't drink! You can't say something you've done! Oh my god, you're the worst," Lady breathed into her bottle. "My turn."

She caught the two other girls glancing at each other, not recognizing the looks in their eyes. Was it confusion? Pure hate? Longing? Suspicious, Lady thought of her question. Eyeing them with a cautious glare over her glass, Lady went.

"Never have I ever..." The two other girls stayed preoccupied, staring at each other with Jake and Finn seperating them, not paying attention until, "...been with a girl."

The two seized up, and quickly looked away from each other. Neither of them moved, until Marceline looked at the ceiling and took a long drink. Upon seeing that, Bonnibel raised her glass to her lips as Finn and Jake stared in awe.

"Whaaat?!" Jake exclaimed. "Are you serious? I'd expect it from Marcy, but wow, more adventurous than we thought, Princess?"

It seemed that Jake still wasn't making the connection, but Lady was smart enough to know how to use drinking games to pry out truth. Bonnibel blushed, and looked to the floor.

"It's nothing to be ashamed about, loser. Don't look too embarrassed," Marceline muttered, absently picking torn seams on her pants.

"I'm not ashamed, doofus!" Bonnie exclaimed.

"'Ey, 'ey!" Lady raised her palms, and was confident that the group was drunk enough to follow her lead. "Chill out, it's my turn again."

Finn piped up, "But you just went!"

"No I didn't." Marceline and Bonnie were fuming with embarrassment, not able to meet the eyes of anyone else. Lady smirked, knowingly as Bonnibel looked to her, begging her not to delve further into the matter. "Never have I ever been with a girl in this room."

Ultimate silence transpired. Finn drunkenly noticed the change in their faces, and did a double-take. "What was the question?" Bonnibel confidently chugged the rest of her beer, and Marcy followed suit, almost competing in coming out to the world about their experience.

Jake's jaw dropped while Lady burst into a fit of giggles, almost tipping over her bottle.

"But I-! I mean I thought you guys, like-" Jake stuttered as Lady practically rolled into his lap in laughter. "I thought you hated each other!"

"We do!" they replied in unison.

Finn kept glancing around the room, lost. "What happened guys? What was the question, c'mon tell me!"

Lady's evilness led her to making this the fun of the party. Her giggles died down while Jake still gaped, conspicuously. Finn gave up and resorted to simply leaning against the bed frame.

"It was-! It was an accident. A mistake," Bonnibel fessed up. It stung Marceline terribly to hear that explanation. Especially because Bonnie expected her to agree with that statement. But when Bonnie looked to her for support, she gave her a look, and Bonnibel instantly felt like the biggest jerk on the planet.

A mistake? Was that all Bonnibel thought of it? Marceline pondered as she looked down the opening of her bottle. It wasn't even her idea! How could she blame it on it being an accident! But the worst feeling was the thought of being a memory that Bonnie regretted; a bad experience that should be forgotten. She bit the mouth of the bottle in thought. Bonnie looked longingly at the gesture, regretting her painful words and wishing those lips would trace and lick and lap her openi-

"Ugh, not this weird feeling again," Lady groaned. "Let's play something else."

Finn perked up, straightening up from the bed. "Yes! What game?"

"Truth or Dare."

"Deal! Me first!"

"Truth or dare, Finn?"

"Dare! For sure!"

"Hmm," she tapped her chin lightly as she leaned against Jake's shoulder. "Go get a pile of snow, but you can only carry it with the inside of your underwear."

He raced out the door, not preparing himself with a jacket or shoes.

"Poor kid," Jake looked on at the closing door.

"Alright, next," Lady pointed at Marceline and pulled her out of the angsty reverie. "You."

"Uh, dare, I guess."

Jake cut in; "Make out with Princess' bellybutton!"

Lady cackled with him as Bonnie straightened up, arousing Marceline slightly with her arched-back posture. She was hesitating, so Marcy took the lead, crawling across the floor towards her, determined. Meeting her smoldering eyes, feelings tightened between her legs. Lady and Jake didn't seem to notice the romantic way Bonnibel accepted Marceline with a stroke of the cheek, because they ruined the moment with,

"Oh, and you gotta pull up her shirt with your teeth!"

Obliging, Bonnibel gently settled on her back, underneath the other crawling girl. Coming up between her legs, Marceline maintained eye-contact as she approached
her belt. Dipping her head lower, she caught the hem between her teeth and slithered up Bonnie's body with a painfully slow grind. I'll show you what's an accident, she thought. Do you want to see an accident? She pulled the shirt all the way up to under her breasts before Bonnie gasped in protest, but resumed sighing when Marceline slipped back down to nip and suck her lower abdomen. Squirming under the hot, wet touch, she felt the deep pang of arousal slide down inside her chest to her moistening loins. The intimate scrape of teeth trailing in the direction of her center made her forget that they were being watched.

Jake coughed audibly, breaking the spell. "Alright, Romeo save it for next game," Lady interrupted, boredly. The two pulled apart, shocked at their uncouth behavior. "Marcy, why don't you escort Princess back to our room, huh? She seems too drunk to remember where it is." She dragged her nails up Jake's thigh and he reacted. Marceline had momentary thoughts of those two in her bed, but shook them out as Bonnie crawled to her feet and hastily towards the door. She got up and followed.

The elevator ride was awkward. The two were joined by another drunk couple, clearly a few steps a way from blacking out. Marceline watched them lean on each
other for support while she felt someone tracing her hands, between her fingers and over the knuckles. One of the inebriated couple turned over and noticed
the small efforts of affection Bonnibel was providing, and scoffed loudly.

"'ucking lesbos, man," he hiccupped. "'ou'd have 'ore fun sucking my-"

Even as the man's friend scolded him for being so crass, a single swing to the left eye coupled with an insane blood-alcohol ratio knocked him out cold before
Marceline and Bonnibel stepped out of the elevator and onto their floor. The sounds of the man's acquaintance's frustration came from the closing elevator door as Bonnibel blew at her own knuckles. "Ow, ow," she muttered, leading Marceline to her door.

"Can you stop punching people in the face constantly?" Marceline scolded as they entered the dorm. "Like, really, you're gonna lose your princess-like reputa-"

"Fuck it," the Princess slurred, kicking her shoes and sweater to a random corner as she trailed her pants across the floor. She was shedding her clothes at an exponential pace as she made for a drawer. Marceline was entranced as she bent over for a bottom drawer, displaying a lacey pink-clad backside. "Fuck everything, whatever."

Things were boiling again. "Like you have the right to complain."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" It felt like Marceline was having this back-and-forth with only a butt; a very nice one, but still provoking.

"I wish you told me you had such a shitty time fucking me before you went on telling all our friends."

"It wasn't like that. I didn't say it like that-"

"You really did. It's not like it was my idea to do it!"

When Bonnibel got up and turned to face her, Marceline noticed that the girl was only dressed in the matching pink lace underwear, coupled with her flannel that was provided to the Princess at the party. She instantly recalled the feelings of that night; the lack of ill-intention. When stuff made sense. The cold tile of a bathroom floor cooling boiling sweat, dripping pollen. The scent of heat itself permeating the air, but the beautiful squeezed face of a climaxing Bonnibel.

"It was all my idea? Is that all you felt about it?"

Obviously it didn't make sense to say weird dumb stuff about missing being together. About missing talking on the phone forever, sharing desserts in the dining hall, fighting over what desserts to buy, fighting over where to sit, fighting over who's bed to cuddle in. It wouldn't be right to just come out with it. They hated each other, and it was an undeniable, irrevocable truth that they shared like a bitter marriage. No one could piss either of them off quite like the other, and that was a beautiful thing. They couldn't lose it. Marceline wouldn't know what she'd have if she lost that.

"If that's all you felt about it," she responded, melting at the sight of the naked girl, barely cloaked in her clothes, the background of winter moonlight. The girl approached until she was close, then lead Marceline backwards, never breaking eye contact. She sat her in the only chair in the cell of a dorm room.

"Do you miss me?"

"Yeah."

"Then why did you leave me?"

"I didn't! You never came to me either!"

"Think about me a lot?"

The snow fell lightly in the night. Silently. Thoughts of blushing flesh flashed through her mind. Memories of being in lecture and daydreaming came up. Vicious intentions of destroying all of Bonnie's chances at a Valentine this year were recalled. The way she had to work up so much nerve to face the singles date party. Then she realized how trapped she was, now that Lady and Jake we're soiling her bed downstairs in her dorm. She was pinned, as Bonnibel straddled her lap and was seated quite comfortably, securing herself with arms sliding over Marceline's shoulders.

"Yeah."

Bonnie stared deeply, shifting her hands to palm the girl's face. "What do you think I'm feeling?"

Marceline shrugged, looking deeply, enjoying the warmth, the comfort of a familiar vanilla surrounding her. "Comfortable."

Bonnie's posture straightened out, gliding her own fingertips from her jaw, down her sculpted throat sensually. "Want to know what I really think of Marceline Abadeer?"

She gulped, watching intently. Her palms finally rested cautiously on the other girl's hips, but dared not advance. Even as Bonnibel's eyes fluttered closed gently as she reached down for a handful of the flannel, Marcy looked. She pulled the shirt up to her nose and inhaled smoothly, letting the other hand trail down from her collarbone, past her breast and to her newly acquired hickeys under the belly button. "I lay in bed, at night, wondering what she's doing."

Marceline's eyes widened.

"...If she's thinking of me, too."

She slipped a hand into her lace panties, fumbling softly. Marceline felt the friction of the knuckles against her abdomen. Time, thoughts, snow, it all stopped.

"...When she's gonna come over next."

Marceline kept her eyes in Bonnie's face, but felt the oscillations occurring in her underwear. The swirling motions were moistening their contact. The shuffle of cloth accompanied the lewd actions. She brought her lips close to the girl's ear and broke out small, choked pants as she fondled her own sweet core.

"And, ungh, what she'd do to me if," another hot breath escaped, "she were in this bed with me."

Bonnie shifted her close face to Marcy's parted lips and kissed deeply, as she swept her own fingers back and forth over the sensitive parts. Marceline's eyes still were wide, and drank in the image of falling snow in the background of the girl in her lap stroking herself deeply. Deep strokes. Wet noises lapped lightly, tracing of lips and tongue. A sweet dance, warm embrace. No lines separating the bodies. Small gasps were blown into Marceline's mouth as Bonnibel continued reenacting her nights with thoughts of her. Beautiful chants of her name went on, like an incantation.

Her wrist was taken from the warm hip by damp fingertips, and was dragged to the low apex. Light, chimey voice crackled in the dark room as a spine arched into Marcy's chest. Breathing deeply as skin stretched tautly over defined ribs. Feeling the scalding, loving core that begged for her touch made her mind completely filled with Bonnie, occupied only with love and adoration. The motions trailed on into the rest of the night, as the snow fell around their world peacefully. For the first time, being and laying together made sense. They would deal with the arguments to come in the morning, but for the nights, nothing else could get between them.

As Lady and Jake hijacked Marceline's room, she quietly enjoyed the peace and privacy of a simple Valentine's Day.

/

This is late, but it was per request, and was really long? I'm sorry

This was not a romantic valentines fic, maybe I'll succeed next year...

:-( hahahahaha. Thanks YuzuYuri19! I'll try and be better next time

pls prompt me mayb ill do it