Perhaps that's what love is when he finally feels it with all five senses. Marcel wouldn't know any better. The slow progression of this relationship that culminated in that grand reveal that felt like he's been run over by a carriage.

Maybe it's his keen sense, or maybe he's just so zoned in on you. The way he'd pick up your scent, of flowers, sweets and something so indescribably...you. He tells no one about this lest they think of him as a creep, but personally Clemar thinks it's a talent. a very specific talent with very niche usage.

Macrel would know if you've been here just a moment ago. He'd be able to tell just from the scent alone. The perfume you had custom made for yourself is the one scent he's acquainted well with. He would be able to deduce what you've been doing just from this alone.

Maybe that's what it feels like to fall in love with your scent

The way his eyes would be able to find you no matter how crowded it is. Marcel would notice when you're walking down the market street from a mile away. He's always paying attention to the details. All of it. from the tip of your hair all the way down to your toes. He would know if you got a haircut, no matter how miniscule the changes are.

He'd notice immediately if you tried to style your hair a different way that day. And when you look at him? He wouldn't mind getting lost in those eyes for eternity.

Marcel look at your fashion choices today as well, noting all the tiny things that would've gone unnoticed by others. He already has a mental database of what clothing style you like, colors you often wear and accessories you fancied. As much as others see it as him telling Clemar it's rude to photograph you without permission, he's just as guilty as his other half is. The private chambers he has back at castle Aberleen is filled with candid photos of you, one he'd hide away should he have anyone visiting his room. Those pictures are for his eyes and his eyes alone.

Perhaps that's what it feels like to fall in love just with the sight of you.

Or maybe it's when he hears your voice? Everything else is on hold and he has to turn around to where your voice is coming from. You'd be there, greeting him with that sweet voice he's all too familiar with. One that's been engraved in his mind.

How he can pick up all the details on your current emotions just from your tone and how you speak. Marcel knows when you're annoyed or feeling sad even before you told him about it. He'd recognize when you're happy about something just from that slight change in your pitch. Even Gusion calls him weird for being able to do that, but he paid no mind. Clemar teases him non stop but it bothers him not.

He's usually not one to hear complaints from clients or anyone else,really. Marcel never liked those fussy entitled customers and how they'd always have something they don't iike. But you? That's an entirely different story.

He'd zip his mouth shut and listen to you talking about your day, the good and the bad. Venting about anyone particularly annoying that day. Marcel would stop whatever it is he was doing to focus solely on you.

Maybe that's what it feels like to fall in love with your voice.

His heart skips a beat when your fingers brush against his. How you're so shy when trying to hold his hands as you walk down the streets. He'd give you a coy smile before interlocking your fingers, feeling your warmth. Marcel likes it when you play with his hair, he'd melt into your touch.He freezes for a moment when you fell asleep mid-reading, head resting on his shoulders. Clemar jokes about waking you up, to which he'd smack his partner square on the head.

He longs for your hug, one you gave him every time you return after a while of being away for work. Marcel basks in your warmth, as if he's a man who's been in cold ruthless winter for months.

He would always be sure to touch you with such care and gentleness, afraid that you'd break if he did it wrong. Cupping your cheeks and feeling the heat rush to your cheek when he kisses your forehead and teases you.

He always wished you'd sleep for longer when he has you in his arms. Hoping the sun takes longer to rise so he can stay in bed with you for just a little while more.

Perhaps that's what it feels like to fall in love with your touch

He'd have the taste of you imprinted on his tongue, faint when you share your sweet treats with him, offering a spoonful for Marcel to try. Who is he to reject, even if Clemar jokes about it being an indirect kiss. He doesn't even realize how hungry he is, and it's not about food.

Or when he places a kiss on the back of your hand during those ball and events he has to attend. The one you made more bearable for him to participate in. Giving you a kiss on the cheek as a 'thank you' for the dance.

Or maybe when it's all over and you're both alone in his room, uninterrupted by no one else. When he kisses down your neck, soft pecks trailing your belly and when he kisses up your thigh. A taste so unmistakably you, one that made him hunger for more. Marcel went back up to lock eyes with you, his hands ensuring there's no escape.

He dives in for the kiss, the all too familiar taste flooding him. Sweeter than anything and oh so intoxicating.

Maybe that's what it feels like to fall in love with your taste.

Marcel leans into the kiss smiling, hands wrapped around you as if you're going to escape if he ever let's go. Taking in all of you, so eager and with such passion. One that you return with just as much as you both became lost in this moment.

He would never trade you for anything in this world. You are his everything, someone he'd give his entire world to.

Of course, he knew, and as much as he hates repeating something, it had to be done. He softly sighed at the reminder but then focusing on the details again.

The dark room smelled of chemicals and the slight tinge of blueberries left unattended on the table. You leaned against the table, arms now crossed as you watched Marcel carefully hang another photograph on the drying line.

He didn't turn around, his eyes paying careful attention to every detail. He murmured, "It's not right yet."

You glanced at what he was staring at and observed. “It looks fine to me."

He let out another heavy sigh, for what felt like a thousand times already. “It's not just about being ‘fine.’” Despite being frustrated with repeatedly doing it, his voice was steady, though a little tight underneath, like something pulled too taut. He reached for the next print even before the last one had finished dripping. “This time will be exact.”

You frowned at his persistence. In the dimly lit room, you carefully sat on a chair beside his table, slumped in defeat as you watched him work in silence for a while.

You always wondered why it took him several attempts to find the exact one, but all you ever received was a ‘this is the last one.’ You closed your eyes for a moment and opened it to glance at him, the red light casting shadows across his pretty face, making him look more like one of his own photographs than an actual person.

His hands moved quickly, almost frantic if you try to observe closely. It's as if he's running out of time, and it makes your stomach churn—that's it. You're no longer tolerating this torture anymore.

“Marcel. Stop for a second.”

“I'm almost done.”

"You said that about six times already!” You quickly reached out to grab his hand that was about to reach for another photo.

His hands stilled as he looked at your hand. He didn't look at you, his shoulders set in that too-straight line. “I just… need to get this one- just this one right—”

“Why?”

There was a pause—a deafening silence, long enough that you almost regretted asking.

He ran a hand over his hair. “Because if I don't capture it properly, it fades. And if it fades, it's like it never happened... at all.” His voice that was once frantic, gradually grew quieter. “And I know I don't want to forget this, or any of it.”

You slid off the chair and came to stand beside him, close enough that your shoulders touched. Your tone was quieter too, almost matching his. “Forget what, exactly?”

“You.” He paused immediately, almost startled as he realized how raw his emotions are. “I don't—” He exhaled shakily, his hands braced against the counter now instead of the photographs.

He continued, careful this time. “People leave, eventually. Just things ending. And all I'll have left is whatever I managed to put on film. So it has to be right.”

Something in your chest ached at that, you almost felt bad for asking. You never really heard him talk about his mother directly, but you didn't need him to do that to understand. He unconsciously stared at the farthest photo on the board. “It's getting…frustrating. So tiring.”

“Hey...” Sadness filled your eyes as your hand moved to touch his wrist gently. “I'm not a photograph. And I'm not going anywhere.”

"You don't know that." He shook his head.

"Neither do you. So why decide I'm already gone?"

His eyes finally lifted to yours, his expression almost guilty—or maybe just afraid, the kind of look Clemar usually absorbed so that Marcel never had to wear it. His voice was low. “I'm not deciding that. I'm just… preparing. Just in case.”

You sighed. "You don't have to prepare for me leaving. I'm right here. And I know, I'll never leave.”

"For now."

"For as long as I get a say in it." Your other hand reached up to cup his cheeks. "Which is a lot longer than your 'for now,' just so we're clear, okay?" A soft smile reached your lips.

He let out a breath that was almost a laugh, a little looser than the tension he'd been carrying all evening. Slowly, his hand turned to cover yours against his cheek. “...You're very confident for someone arguing with a man who controls time.”

You huffed. “You control the moments. Not people leaving—” You almost thought you made him offended by the last comment, so you slid your hand down to hold both of his, and shifted the topic. “S-so, quit developing the same photo countless times and come sit with me! This, this moment is happening right now.”

Marcel glanced at the photograph still dripping on the line, then back at you. Something eased in his expression, not entirely a smile, but something close to it is still better. “...Fine. Just this once.”

You smiled at his agreement as you led him to the balcony of the room. You both glanced down at people dancing beneath the lights and the lively music of the festival.

A sigh left your lips as you stared at the lights beaming. "You know, there's so much that a mere camera can only capture."

You could almost hear Clemar strongly disagreeing.

You chuckled. “And I think this is progress.”

He wrapped a hand around your back and murmured, “Yeah, yeah. Just... don't get used to it.” And yet, he found himself enjoying that very moment, especially with you by his side.

... Gabi Braun.

We all know how much Reiner loves children, but his little cousin is almost like his daughter. He practically loves to take care of her and be an example for her.

As soon as he heard her voice calling him around the house his penis contracted and he pulled away from you immediately. You were about to orgasm, what a shame.

You groaned, you were a mess, Reiner on his side was dressing as if the world was going to end.

"I'm sorry" he said worriedly as he came over to help you get dressed. He kissed your forehead before leaving to open the door.

"Reiner!" greeted Gabi jumping into his arms. "You smell strange" she said, you two tensed at the comment, followed by her giving you a friendly wave when she saw you.

"I thought Gabi would keep us good company, I hope you don't mind" warned Karina coming up behind the girl. Her gaze was inquisitive, as if she had planned this interruption by way of revenge.

"No no, it's okay" Reiner replies, you responded something similar by avoiding your mother-in-law's gaze.

Yeah, maybe you should consider controlling your intensity a bit when you are not in your own home. Or at least avoid doing it at Karina's house.

Porco Galliard

You had Porco in heaven as you rode him, his hands helping you to move your hips up and down faster as you received his strong thrusts.

The fun was cut short when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, followed by his mother's voice announcing that she has arrived home.

He practically threw you off him and you fell to the ground, of course a squeal escaped from your mouth as you landed on the floor.

" Fuck!" he cursed under his breath as he quickly succored you.

You assimilated what was happening when he immediately laid you down on the bed and spoke to you in a low voice.

"Pretend you're asleep," he said. You complied as he got fully dressed in record time.

"Hi" he greeted the woman nervously, trying to pretend he had only recently woken up. "You're early."

"Hi Pock! Yeah, I finished my stuff at work earlier. Is your girlfriend here?" she asked wanting to peek over her son's shoulders, unfortunately he was taller so her view couldn't examine the inside of the room.

"She's sleeping" he rushed to say, he could swear his heartbeat could be heard throughout the room. "We were watching movies and she fell asleep."

You had to cover your mouth to keep any laughter from escaping, but your body wasn't helping much as it trembled begging you to stop stifling a laugh.

"Hmm... I see" the woman answered him unconvinced. "Well... I wanted to know how you were doing, I'll leave you two alone."

Porco gave her a small smile before turning to close the door, but his mother interrupted him one last time.

"Try not to make so much noise next time, I heard you when I was climbing the stairs."

Your body and mouth could no longer resist and you stopped stifling laughter. Porco closed the door sighing heavily as you watched him in amusement.

"Shut up" he said to you with a reddened face after throwing a pillow at your face.

Marcel Galliard

Marcel's experience would be similar to Porco's, his mother enjoys interrupting them.

I think with his father it would be more different. He wouldn't really notice and it's not like he cared much either.

One day you were in the kitchen of his house blowing him, Marcel was enjoying it like a god being worshipped by his followers.

Suddenly he hears his phone receiving a call and asked you to stop.

You stopped and took his penis out of your mouth, so Marcel took the opportunity to answer.

"Hi Marcel, how's everything at home?" it was his father, your boyfriend replied trying to sound natural.

You saw his member start to go flaccid as they chatted, the urge for mischief flashed through your mind and you started massaging his testicles to revive his cock.

Marcel stifled a surprised moan and momentarily pulled the phone away from his face.

"Uhmm... Are you okay? Did something happen?" asked his father on the other end of the line.

"Y-yes, it's all okay" he stammered and cleared his throat.

His chatter continued as did your caresses, Marcel began to caress your face indicating you with his eyes to go back to sucking him off.

You wasted no time and took his cock in your mouth while Marcel tried to follow the conversation, it seemed that his father was asking him something about groceries to go buy it when he gets off work.

"Oh, by the way, would you guys like some pizza? I could stop by and pick up some four family sized ones for dinner, since (Y/N) is staying tonight" he said.

"Yes, that's perfect" Marcel replies to him desperate to hang up.

"Okay, that's it. See you later" he said goodbye. When he hung up, Marcel released a groan of relief and grabbed your face gently to start rocking his hips against your mouth.

Zeke Jeager

Ok, but the situation with Zeke would be quite different.

I mean, with Eren he has that typical sibling relationship where they go to each other's room to nuclear fart and then leave the place leaving the other to get gas poisoning, or that they steal each other's phone charger when they can't find their own charger.

The problem is that they also often interrupt each other when they are having sex with their partners, just because it amuses them to tease each other.

Zeke is fucking you in his room? Then Eren would repeatedly knock on the door very loudly scaring the two of you, when Zeke opens, Eren says "hello" and leaves.

Are you in the kitchen while Zeke fucks your brains out on the counter? Eren appears at the window overlooking the courtyard and knocks on the glass startling you both.

"How was your day?" he asks holding back laughter as you both desperately try to cover yourselves.

"Fuck off now" replies Zeke irritated.

Of course later Zeke would do the same thing when Eren is with Mikasa, the Jeager brothers never tire of playing a game of standoff.

Pieck Finger

The lust that engulfs you and Pieck becomes sordid, but not to the point of making you as little indifferent to the world as Reiner.

Unlike the guys, Pieck is actually discreet about having sex in public and semi-public places.

However, she loves to tease you when she knows there is a risk of both of you getting caught.

When you're at her house she loves to make you moan loudly, but sometimes it backfires because she also ends up moaning too loudly when you're both devouring each other or scissoring.

Pieck usually answers her phone when someone calls her while fucking you, the ability she has to pretend she's not doing anything while rubbing herself on you making your pussy melt against hers is amazing.

"Yes dad, she's here with me, do you want to say hi to her?" she asks looking at you mischievously, she knows you can't fake natural like she can. Still she brings the phone closer to your face.

"Hello Mr. F-finger" you stammered trying to stifle your moans, Pieck had intensified the swaying of his hips causing more pleasure in the rubbing of your pussies.

"Hi! I haven't seen you for quite a while, still Pieck talks about you a lot" yep, he's also one of those parents who don't notice, like Porco and Marcel's father.

"I see, I'm so glad about that" you replied shakily under the watchful eye of your girlfriend.

"Uh, I really have to get back to work now, but I'm glad you girls are okay," he said a little hurriedly after noticing that his break time was over. Pieck pulled the cell phone away from you to say goodbye to him.

"Yeah dad, love you too. Bye" she said a quick goodbye already desperate to just focus on you and keep fucking you.

WARNING: Keep in mind there are gonna be some spoilers in this story if you aren't caught up then let me know and I will remove you from the tag list. The tag list is also from people who wanted to be tagged in my previous AOT stories.

Plot: Marcel Galliard, a former accomplice in breaking Wall Maria, meets the reader during the 104th Regiment Corps training. Despite falling in love, Marcel bears the burden of leading a secret mission that could harm his new connections. As their romance blossoms, Marcel faces internal conflict between duty and love. He is now faced with consequences of his past actions, and there is a chance that it could ruin the love he has and the friends he created.

If you wanna be tagged, let me know <3

Tag List: @missmadness123 @galactict3a @pseudophyllus @staymoarmyzen @black0pirate0cat @rl800 @reiners-milkbiddies @bobateasilverpearl @sapphire-gemm @beansofskittles @cockonoi @mochalate @sunaraii

Master List | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

I stood backstage, just out of sight, as I watched my two boys do an interview about their win last week at Halloween Havoc. What we had between us was… unusual… but between the three of us, we made it work.

I love Marcel. He was quiet but strong; demanding, yet gentle. Compassionate and funny but also stern.

I love Fabian. He was a giant teddy bear and a protective Sheppard; he joked a lot but was also romantic.

I knew, back in 2019 when we met, that there was no way I could ever choose one over the other. They seemed to know too, and to understand. Which made our current… arrangement—work, all the more. Never before had I even thought of being in a Polygamous relationship—and they hadn’t either, they admitted one night as we cuddled on the couch.

But it was what we had, and what worked. Thinking back on that night, I couldn’t help but smile—it was also the first night we all slept together. It was a fun night—despite the soreness I felt the next few days.

“—we don’t compromise with American ideals.” Fabian wrapped up in Italian, as Marcel looked over at him with his usual smug frown.

Seeing the two of them act so differently in front of camera compared to when it was just us, it caused a small chuckle. Unfortunately, my cheery mood quickly was squashed as I watched Gigi and Jayce walked onto the screen.

“Congratulations on becoming new NXT tag team champions,” Gigi told them, eyeing Marcel in a way I did not like,” You definitely… look… the part.” She reached out with her black rose and gentle ran it down Marcel’s jawline, seemingly catching his interest.

I stood there, jaw clenched, not moving. My whole body was frozen in place—not in fear. In anger.

“And so do we,” Jacy pointed out, gesturing between her and Gigi, as she pulled away from Marcel. I was barely aware of Fabian glancing in my direction, as the camera panned in on the ladies.

“Actually, we just found out we have a six woman tag team match next week,” Jacy continued, smiling at the thought, eyeballing Marcel some more, as Gigi looked from her partner to Marcel,” And I think… you guys should watch us.” The camera panned away, bringing both Marcel and Fabian into screen again, looking like they held some interest—or at least, curiosity.

Marcel leaned over towards Fabian, a smirk on his face, whispering,” We definitely will,” before continuing in German.

“The mat is sacred, but American has its benefits.” I heard him say, being able to translate his words since he had been teaching me German—and Fabian teaching me Italian. Italian was strangely the more difficult of the two languages, as I picked up on German a lot quicker. They watched in interest as the Gigi and Jacy walked away, eyeballing them up and down.

My heart dropped, and I felt not only pissed off but sick to my stomach.

The interview wrapped up, as Mackenzie walked away with the camera man, and I saw Fabian gently elbow Marcel, whisper something—and then Marcel look over in my direction. His eyes were slightly wide, like he feared something.

Good.

Just as they made a step towards me, I spun on heel and stalked off.

“Principessa!” (ts: Princess)

“Kleiner, warte!” (ts: Little one, wait)

Ignoring them, I picked up my pace as I knew they were getting close to catching up with me. Damn their long legs!

“Kleiner—” Marcel began, but I spun around to face them, stopping them dead in the tracks. (ts: little one)

“Nein!” I exclaimed, pointing a finger at him,” Nein nein nein nein! Just—just leave mich alone!” (ts: no / me)

“Amore—” Fabian tried but quieted with a look from me. With that, I spun back around and stomped off towards the women’s locker room. Unfortunately, that didn’t help matters, because low and behold– -who was standing just outside the door?

Jacy Jayne and Gigi Dolin.

Great. Just great.

As I got closer, all intent to just pass on by them and ignore them, went out the window when I heard Jacy let Marcel’s name slip.

“—kind of, but Marcel is. All those muscles—”

“You leave Marcel alone!” I snapped, getting in her face. I’d get in trouble for the altercation no doubt, but right now, I didn’t care.

“Why? You’re in a thing with Aichner—”

“—Dunno why—” Gigi muttered.

“—Unless you’re sneaking around behind his back with Marcel—”

“It’s none of your business! Just stay AWAY from Marcel and Fabian! Do you understand me?!” I yelled at both of them.

“Why? What are you gonna do about it?” Gigi asked, eyeballing me up and down.

I couldn’t do it—I couldn’t fight them. Medical hadn’t cleared me yet from my foot injury. I just had to walk away—

“We said—what are you going to do?” Jacy repeated, as Gigi shoved my shoulder—and then I saw red. My right leg flew up, foot connecting with Jacy’s abdomen, shoving her backwards on her ass. In the second of confusion for Gigi, I brought my elbow around and knocked her right in the face as she turned back towards me. Stunned for a second, I bent her over a bit and started punching at her back, trying to knock the wind out of her lungs. My focus on her, I didn’t see Jacy come at me until I felt her hands grab my hair and slam me face first into the wall. Gaining the upper hand, they began shouting and belittling me as they attacked, gaining attention from the surrounding backstage personnel, as they tried to separate us. They pulled Jacy and Gigi away from me, thinking I wasn’t going to antagonize the situation, that I was the calmer of the three—but not this time.

As soon as I had the chance, I launched myself at the two of them—including the personel and other talent holding them back—leading with overhead punches, trying to get as much damage as possible. Arms wrapped around my waist, trying to pull me away and in my bought of adrenaline, my elbow hooked around behind me and got the guy in the face. They let me go, stumbling away.

The yelling and arguing among talent, Gigi and Jacy yelling at me and my anger kept the area extremely loud, and I couldn’t hear one person over the other.

Another set of arms wrapped around me, this time slightly tighter, and instead of pulling me straight back, I felt my lower half get lifted as well, and then pulled away from the commotion.

“Basta amore mio! You’ll reinjure yourself—Fermare!” (ts: Enough my love! / Stop!)

Recognizing the Italian, I stopped struggling as much. He put my feet back on the floor, but still held me against his chest. I saw Marcel cupping the side of his face, only looking slightly annoyed.

“Du bist Fertig?” Marcel asked. (ts: You finished?)

“Nein,” I muttered, averting my gaze from his, as I leaned back into Fabian’s chest. (ts: no)

“Mi amore,” Fabian whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my ear,” Come, let’s talk elsewhere.” (ts: my love)

“Somewhere more quiet,” Marcel frowned at the commotion still going on ten feet behind us. Wordlessly, I nodded, following them down the hall to their locker room. Marcel closed the door behind us, and I softly pried myself from Fabian’s embrace.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours amore?” Fabian asked, sitting down in one of the chairs. (ts: love)

Silence.

“Rede mi tuns… bitte leibling.” (Talk to us / please darling)

“I just—I don’t know!” I frowned, turning away from them as I crossed my arms in front of my chest,” I—I saw them shamelessly flirting with you guys—especially Marcel—and I just—”

“You got jealous,” Fabian finished, a slight smirk on his face.

“Nein,” I muttered under my breath. (ts: no)

“Kleiner…” Marcel drawled out, talking slow steps towards me. (ts: little one)

“Nein,” I repeated, trying more to convince myself then them at this point.

“Leibe, look at me bitte.” (ts: Love / please)

Slowly, I turned around but refused to meet his gaze. Briefly, my eyes met Fabian’s and I saw the soft smile his had on his face, but it only made me feel more ashamed, so I let my gaze fall to the floor. Fingertips traced my jaw down to my chin, before lifting my attention up until I finally met Marcel’s eyes.

His beautiful, captivating blue eyes. Those eyes were the first thing to draw me towards him—just as Fabian’s smile did.

“Liebe… You know I would never cheat on you, right?” (ts: Love)

I nodded slowly.

“Then why all this?”

“I just—I don’t know… I guess… with me not really being out there—maybe… maybe I’m feeling insecure? I mean—they are both, kinda attractive in their own—”

“Nein,” Marcel bit out, his posture tightening slightly before he relaxed,” I can’t speak for Fabian—but you…. You are all I need. All I want. Du bist wunderschon…. Komisch… clever… stark… Perfekt wie du bist.” (ts: no / you are beautiful, funny, smart, strong. Perfect as you are)

“Marcel…” I whispered, my eyes tearing up as I wrapped my arms around his torso and snuggled into him as his wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.

“Si, mi amore,” Fabian agreed,” Marcel and I—back before we all agreed to do this relationship—we both were attracted to you in our own ways. People can come on to us all they want—flirt all they want… but at the end of the day, all we want is you, Principessa.” (ts: Yes, my love / Princess)

“You’ve nothing to be jealous over, we promise,” I heard Marcel assure me, and I glanced up at him.

“I’m sorry I elbowed you in the face,” I frowned, as he looked down at me with a grin.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve done worse before,” Marcel chuckled, before pressing a kiss to my forehead,” Does your foot hurt any?”

“Hmm? Oh,” I thought, stretching it out a bit and considering, before shaking my head,” No. Doesn’t seem to. Doctor did tell me I should be good to go, but to keep an eye on it for a few weeks.”

“So, you’re cleared to be in the ring again?”

“Not technically, yet anyway. I think they will after my check up tomorrow. Which is good news for me,” I smiled deviously.

“Why’s that, Princepessa?” (ts: princess)

“You heard Jayne. They’ve got a 3-woman tag match next week. It’d be a shame if one of their opponents couldn’t make the match for… any… reason.”

“Questa e’ la nostra ragazza.” (ts: That’s our girl)

“Wir werden zuschauen.” (ts: We will be watching)

“I do hope so,” I smirked,” They’ll learn, one way or another, they’ll learn. You don’t mess with what’s mine.” 

The two Europeans just smiled down at me, before giving me each a breath taking kiss. Next week was a ways away– for now, they started with making me feel beautiful, loved and extra motivated. 

0o0o0o0o

EXTRA MARCEL READJUST GIF -hearteyes- imdying