"Were you being serious about prom?"

Bonnibel's hand stilled from where it had been feverishly writing one of her personal essays. Exams were over and all that was left to do was wait for their results. She enjoyed waiting and researching, much to the disgust of her friends. Marceline was still idly playing a song on her guitar, fingers ghosting over chords and notes as if she'd been doing it since birth. There was a gentle lull of a song not yet finished on the tip of her tongue.

"Of course I was," Bonnibel finally answered, going back over the sentence she had been writing. "Why, would you prefer to stay at home?"

There was a hum in place of soft-spoken lyrics. Then, "I'll go with you if you'll have me."

Bonnibel looked over her shoulder, not surprised in the least to find her girlfriend's eyes closed and head tilted up towards the ceiling. That's how she usually played music for Bonnibel when she needed background noise, legs tucked under her on the couch and the guitar looking as if it was about to slip from her hold. It never did, though.

"I'll always have you," Bonnibel muttered softly, rolling her eyes. Marceline cracked one of her eyes open and smiled. "D'you think Lady was being serious about matching?"

"I don't think Lady has ever been more serious about anything else," Marceline snickered. "I can always buy a tie to match whatever dress you'll be wearing, though, just to make it easier."

"Hm, perhaps. Or you could wear the tie I bought for you months ago."

"The what?"

Bonnibel smirked and put the pen in her hand down on the desk, opening the bottom drawer on the left and pulling out a deep red silky fabric. "I bought this ages ago. Never expected you to want to go with me, though."

"Dude." The guitar was promptly placed against the couch and Bonnibel found herself being kissed thoroughly before the tie was taken from her for inspection.

"It'll match, don't worry."

And then she was being kissed again.

"God, do I love you," Marceline mumbled into her mouth, not giving Bonnibel any time to respond as she pushed her tongue into her already open mouth, doing such a wonderful job at distracting her. Not that Bonnibel was complaining.

Bonnibel allowed herself to be kissed for a few more minutes, only pushing her girlfriend away gently when Marceline's hips rocked gently forwards. "As much as I adore having sex with you, I do need to finish this essay."

Marceline groaned, slipping backward from where she'd somehow gotten onto Bonnibel's lap, and trudged back to the couch where her guitar was waiting for her. "You're such a nerd. Exams ended weeks ago,"


"I can't believe you haven't asked her yet."

"Why? We still have plenty of time, plus we haven't even had the chance to talk about it yet."

"Ugh. I couldn't be able to keep something like that from Jake. You're something else, B."

Bonnibel sighed into her phone. "I'm finding it increasingly difficult, to be honest. It doesn't help that she's been hanging out with her band more than usual."

"You need to tell her."

"Lady," Bonnibel groaned. "I plan on telling her, I promise, but I can't just kidnap her and drag her to the house I bought us and say 'now you're mine'. That'd be weird."

Lady hummed softly. "Although, it's Marceline. I think she'd be into it."

"Right," Bonnibel scoffed. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask. When are we meeting up?"

"Hm. We'll probably all meet up at your dorm thirty minutes beforehand, at least that's what I told everyone."

Bonnibel sent a flat stare to the wall in front of her. "Of course, you told everyone but me. Thanks, Lady."

"Anytime, B."


Marceline fiddled nervously with her tie. She rarely enjoyed being dressed up but for Bonnibel? She'd manage. Especially if it ended like the last time she'd worn a suit.

"When do I get to see my super hot girlfriend?" She complained loudly through a pout, trying to take her mind off of the plethora of worries that clouded her mind, like the fact that prom was happening, or that their results would be mailed to them oh so very soon, or, what about the fact that she still hadn't proposed?

"I'm doing my hair, you can stand to wait a few more minutes," came Bonnibel's response from the bathroom. Their shared bathroom, and yet Marceline was being kept outside from helping her girlfriend get dressed. Granted, she'd definitely do more harm than good if she was in there with her.

There was a knock at the door that Bonnibel grumbled about under her breath, and Marceline opened it inwards to find herself being whistled and cheered at by several of their friends.

"You're all assholes." Marceline huffed, letting Finn and Jake push her around gently as the rest of them looked at her in her suit, tie, and stupid fancy shoes. She wished she could have worn her boots, at least.

"Assholes that clean up well," Finn grinned down at his pale blue waistcoat. Of course, he was the only one not matching with Phoebe. "You look pretty awesome, though, Abadeer."

"Where's your hot girlfriend?" Lucy asked from where she was perched on Jake's shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist and playing with his blazer. His bowtie and her dress were the same shade of lilac.

Marceline pouted. "That's what I've been saying,"

"I'm here, I'm here," The bathroom door was opening. "I was doing my hair. You guys are late, by the way."

Marceline would've probably said something or even listened to what Jake had to say in response to Bonnibel, but holy hell of course she was in a little black dress. No hint of the deep red though, which was strange, but fuck who needed to match when her girlfriend had legs for days?

"Fuck." Toppled from Marceline's lips. Somehow, she was severely out of breath. "You're so hot."

"Shut up," Bonnibel muttered around a playful glare. "We should've been leaving about ten minutes ago."

"You were doing your hair," Lady pointed out.

"And? I think it looks nice."

"It does!" Marceline immediately came to the defense of her girlfriend, soon to be fiancé, soon to be wife. Bonnibel's short bob was curled delightfully at the ends, tickling at her jawline and neck and other places that Marceline wished she was pressing open-mouthed kisses against. Prom was going to be a pain. "It looks great, you look great."

"Not matching, though," Lucy muttered flatly, hands now sinking into Jake's pockets. "I thought I told you to match with each other."

"We're late," Bonnibel repeated herself, equally as flat as her friend, appearing beside Marceline to take her hand. "We should get going unless you'd all rather talk some more?"


There was champagne. Much fancier than the bottle that they had shared on their date, much to Marceline's pleasant surprise. It was probably the only bonus to being dragged out to prom. Bonnibel being there in that little dress didn't count. Ultimately, that was a personal kind of torture just for Marceline; her skirt kissing the tops of her knees and teasing the promise of soft thighs, her freckled shoulders and clavicle bared for all to see, lips glossed glittery and taunting, pulling upwards and rounding out her flushed cheeks. Bonnibel didn't count. Not when she looked like that.

"I'm gonna marry her," Marceline declared, pointing her flute of champagne towards her girlfriend across the way, watching as she perused the buffet table with Finn and Lucy. Jake was vaguely aware of what she had said, tortured by his own love of course.

"Aren't you already engaged?"

"Dude," Marceline's shoulders slumped. "I wish that actually held up."

"Oh, word?" Jake was looking at her properly now. "Dude, you know if you asked she'd jump you, right?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "In what way are you talking about my girlfriend jumping me, Jacob?"

There was a grin on his face that Marceline found dangerous, but lips had found themselves at the back of her ear and Marceline almost dropped her glass. "You're a menace," she mumbled, turning around in the arms that were now around her waist. "Any good food?"

Bonnibel shrugged her shoulders, reminding Marceline exactly why she'd been coerced into going to prom of all things. "Not really. I figured we could order food when we get home?"

"Pizza?"

"You read my mind," Bonnibel tilted forwards and kissed her soundly. Their friends were talking about something outside of Marceline's auditory peripherals. "Are you enjoying prom so far?"

"I've been sitting here staring at you for the past half an hour," Marceline admitted as evenly as could be expected with her girlfriend's hands sneaking up into her dress shirt, almost definitely ruining the neat tuck she'd spent a solid ten minutes perfecting. "Define enjoying for me."

Bonnibel hummed, head coming down to rest on Marceline's shoulder, lipgloss softly smudging skin. "Let's see. Enjoying, present participle of enjoy. To take pleasure and or benefit from an event or activity."

Marceline huffed hot into Bonnibels hair. "Yeah, okay, you're such a loser."

"I'm your loser." Bonnibel shot back in that lovingly insistent way that Marceline adored. "Answer my question. Enjoying prom?"

How could Marceline be expected to say anything but, "Yeah, of course," in that breathy way when Bonnibel's thumb was grazing her waist, fingers bent at the second knuckle and pressing lightly into heated skin? "Don't know much about taking pleasure from being here but it's about as fun as I imagined."

"I'm just glad you're here."

"I'm glad you decided to wear this," Marceline muttered low enough that their friends wouldn't comment on just how overtly horny for her girlfriend she was at prom, taking the silky soft fabric of the skirt between thumb and forefinger. "Though, you said we'd match. What gives?"

Bonnibel smiled darkly. That was bad for Marceline's health. "What pizza do you want to get when we get home?"


"You taste like pizza," breathed softly into an open mouth was probably the least sexy thing Marceline had ever said.

And yet, "I think you should take your shirt off properly,"

Marceline slipped out of Bonnibel's arms, pushing herself back off of the bed so her knees were on the floor and her top half remained on the duvet. "If you insist, my liege."

"Dumbass."

Marceline undid the last few buttons of her once crisp dress shirt, slid free of the fabric, and pushed upwards to kiss Bonnibel once more, still pleased when the sudden lack of height angled her mouth against her neck and collarbone. Bonnibel sighed and her throat bobbed under Marceline's hot mouth.

"At this rate, you'll ruin the surprise," Bonnibel grumbled, tugging Marceline free of her skin with a hand in her hair.

"Mmh," Marceline smirked, wriggling free further and ending up on her bum. "Don't spoil it for me."

Another sigh ripped through Bonnibel, tail ended with an airy laugh as Marceline began pressing kisses to the inside of her knee, hands busying themselves with removing heels from soft soles. "Gotcha. No spoilers here."

Marceline hummed, tongue trailing a damp path from the top of Bonnibel's knee just past the line that had been goading her all night, mouth claiming territory that was rightfully hers. For a minute or two, there were only sweet breaths and murmurs of noise.

"Holy shit, Bonnibel, did you plan this."

"Hm. Something about you liking my legs, I figured you'd figure out one way or another.

"You're so stupidly hot and smart and a genius." Marceline huffed into Bonnibel's inner thigh, feverishly kissing and biting and licking and savouring.

Naturally, it was inside of Bonnibel's dress that matched the colour of Marceline's tie. Naturally, Bonnibel had thought about that. And even more naturally, Marceline enthusiastically thanked her for being so smart.