My wife (Minerva) + ⚧ ❓♥️🧡📖 🥖? (Sorry i ask too many emojis, it's the brainrot 😅)
Character Emoji Ask
⚧- Pronoun headcanon
She/They. I think she mostly uses She/Her, but after Tartaros, I think she became comfortable with They/Them too. I hc her as transfem and and demigirl.
❤️- Otp
Yukinerva. I love them so much, I love the idea Yukino being the ray of light that pulls Minerva out of the darkness. Sting and Rogue brought her back to Saber, but Yukino is the reason they stays.
🧡- Everyone I ship with this character
Yukino, Sorano, Lucy, and Laki are the top I can think of. Also Gajeel and Rogue in a GNC/NB sense. Minerva is top tier, mean lesbian turned soft.
📖- AU I’d like to see them in
My God/desses AU. I love my demigod! Minerva, I think I made her really cool.
🥖- Food headcanon
Minerva hates all things bitter or sour. She can’t stand dark chocolate or straight black coffee, she needs sweet things.
❓- Anything else you want!
Minerva doesn’t get rid of demonic attributes from Porlyusia. Not only had she gotten used to them, but they wanted them as a reminder. To remind her not to slip back into the darkness.
I asked if you're stillllll taking requests and I have to shamelessly ask for a Minerva and Gajeel child because Mineel is my personal project I never knew I'd love haha
This boy is cursed with good hair and a bad attitude! v(▼ω▼ﾒ)ゞ
A Famiglia Affair ~ Fairy Tail Fanfiction (Prompt: Mafia)
by impracticaldemon for @gsut (j’espère que tu l’aimeras!)
FFnet | AO3 Words: ~ 2200
~ imp edits ~
Note: This is a gift fic for a woman who is intelligent, sassy, kind to others, and above all not afraid to carpe that diem. I once promised to try my hand at writing a story for her favourite Fairy Tail pair, and this is what happened. I hope you enjoy it!
~ Impracticaldemon
A Famiglia Affair
Prompt: Mafia AU [Vera’s Prompt Challenge, March 8]
It's dangerous to be the new guy in town, especially when the town's at least partly run by the mob and you haven't yet established any local cred. Hell, he still didn't know which cops were on the take and which were clean. Gajeel smiled at the thought. You'd think he'd be pissed about having to start over—again—but actually, it was good. If he didn't know them, maybe they didn't know him.
He'd run a long way this time, right across the continent. New country, new fake ID, no rep. Well, probably no rep—he hadn't had his face fixed like Lily had suggested, so it was always possible that some hero would recognize his face from studying whatever international copy the law favoured around here for keeping new bad guys off their turf. But chances were good that he wouldn't be made. Gajeel was planning to stay, and this time he wouldn't be letting down his guard for a silly little girl who dreamed of making the world—and him—a whole lot better than it was right now.
"Nope, not goin' there," he muttered aloud. "She's gone, an' so's the bastard who shot her just because she told him the truth an' he didn't like it." Too bad it was her dad; too bad she'd cared enough about him to want him to stop being an asshole.
Gajeel honestly didn't balk at much, and rarely bothered to judge the man paying him, but he had some odd notions about how people should treat each other if they were partners, or married, or family. It was one thing for a hired thug like him to beat up a woman to make a point to her husband—that was just business—but nobody should lay hands on their wife or child. The girl had told him that a person shouldn't hurt or kill other people no matter who they were, but that had never really made sense to Gajeel. To stay alive, and free to get a little fun out of life, it was best to neither trust, nor care about other people too much. And yet, for some reason, his own personal code was that if you didmake the mistake of caring about another person, or got stuck being responsible for them… well, then you did your best by them. He often wondered where that kink in his system had come from, but he wasn't a punk kid anymore, so he'd decided to just accept it and move on.
He'd more or less grown up in the mob, with only a vague memory of the metal-working father who'd loved putting turn-of-the-century cars together too much for the health of his business. When the loan sharks and their bully boys had moved in, his dad had simply moved out—without leaving a forwarding address for his kid. Such was life. The mob wasn't that bad, once he'd established that he was smart, and getting stronger every day.
Then again, his last boss—his second—had beaten his own girl to death because she was too smart, and too determined, to fill the role he'd planned for her. She'd been slipping away from him, and trying to take Gajeel with her. Since she was his kid, and Gajeel his top enforcer, there'd been no compromising. In the end, Gajeel had felt the same way about the no-compromise thing. The boss was a tough guy, but no match for Gajeel's uncanny strength and reflexes. The man's bodyguards hadn't even tried to stop him when he'd handed in his resignation by crushing his boss' throat. Gajeel had taken two bullets in the shoulder, and hadn't even noticed. He'd then cleaned out the safe and lit out, leaving Rome to burn behind him—he suspected that the carrion were still fighting over the carcass of the operation even now.
Gajeel was brought back to the present by the clatter of high heels striking the pavement behind him. He didn't react, but he did turn a little, bringing up an unlit cigarette and a lighter for camouflage. His care was in vain, though. Years spent perfecting both detachment and cynicism among some truly scary people failed to prevent his eyes from widening, or his jaw from dropping—just a fraction—and he found himself straightening abruptly to his full height.
The woman coming toward him had a body to make Michelangelo weep, and a presence like an oncoming hurricane. Her face was an alabaster mask set with ruby lips and glittering dark eyes, and crowned with two elaborate knots of silken black hair. Gajeel was a man who knew and appreciated the niceties of power and intimidation, and he felt utterly outclassed. For a moment.
With stubborn pride, he allowed his stance to relax into a slouch, and lit the cigarette. He adjusted his expression from slight shock to faintly dismissive cynicism—a mask easily donned—and saw the woman's almond eyes narrow, whether in interest or irritation he couldn't say.
She slowed as she neared, and he took note of the bodyguards a little distance behind her—just muscle, as far as he could tell, but probably packing and not to be underestimated when he didn't have back-up. His own favourite piece was in a shoulder holster under his jacket, but most of the time he didn't need to use it.
The clacking stopped; the elegantly shod feet were now level with his on the suddenly empty sidewalk. It had been moderately busy before. He approved of her perfume—soft and musky and unlike the overpowering floral stuff with which most women drenched themselves. With deliberate care, he let his eyes travel up from her classy heels to her beautiful, arrogant face, taking in her silk-stockinged legs and clinging , Schiaparelli dress on the way. Over the years, he'd learned to feign respectful admiration, and offensive lust, and all the combinations in between—this time he kept his expression neutral and his posture just the right side of insolent. He lowered the cigarette from his lips, letting the faint smoke curl around his fingers, and tipped his hat.
"Somethin' I can help you with, ma'am?"
Her eyes were somewhere between rich olive green and very dark grey, he decided. The colour probably varied along with her immaculate eye-makeup. He figured she could handle the scrutiny, since she was taking her time studying him—no doubt wondering about the tailored suit, expensive hat, and good shoes, which he knew didn't tally with his craggy face and unruly, coal black hair. He wore his hair unfashionably long, too, since he didn't like the way it bristled outward like a hedgehog when it was short.
"Maybe you can…" She'd finished her initial appraisal, and a faint smile caressed her lips. "I'd heard you're a competent man, Mr. Redfox, but the photos we had wired to us don't do you justice. Apparently you had the brains to have some savings to travel on."
Gajeel fought to keep surprise off his face at her use of his name. He reminded himself that news traveled a lot faster within the mob than it did through law enforcement channels. Plus, he'd killed his boss, which was a sure-fire way to get famous quick, though it didn't always lead to a long life—La Famiglia expected loyalty from subordinates, even if the guy you offed was the competition. Well, it was time to make an educated guess of his own, and get some good out of the dough he'd spent on information about his new home.
"Thank you for the compliments, Miss Orlando, but don't strain yourself. I came here to work, not to spend time with the ladies—especially a princess like yourself."
To a woman like this, those were fighting words. Gajeel had thought her reputation was exaggerated, but he'd changed his mind the instant he'd realized her probable identity. In his experience, Mafia princesses—the daughters of the capos—were spoiled rich girls who'd learned from a young age that as long as they were pretty, frivolous, and loyal, they could do as they pleased. The only exception had been the girl who'd died, which pretty much said it all. Until now. Miss Minerva Orlando was far beyond pretty, and she was reputed to be fanatically loyal, but she wasn't frivolous.
Her gloved hand flashed out, aimed at his cheek. He'd been expecting something and was still caught partly off-guard. There'd been no speeches, no whining, no telegraphed movements—just the slap. He would've been even more impressed by a punch to the throat, or solar plexus, but you couldn't have it all. He seized her wrist just before she connected, his own movements lethally fast and intended to impress.
"Not with me, Miss Orlando, though I concede that you're the fastest dame I've ever met."
"You're playing games with the wrong person, Mr. Redfox."
Her left hand caught him under the rib cage, and he learned an important bit of information—Minerva Orlando was strong, as well as fast. He felt the air leave his lungs, and if he'd been just a little weaker, or less experienced, he would've released her right wrist. Fortunately, he'd already seen the glint of silver against the black palm of her glove, and guessed at a hidden needle. She'd slapped him because she'd wanted to strike bare skin. Knowing that, he focussed everything on keeping a tight grip on the wrist and not doubling over.
The click of guns behind him made the situation a little dicier than he usually liked it. On the other hand, it had been a while since he'd been in a good brawl. Without warning, he yanked the brunette into his chest, and pulled in enough oxygen to speak.
"They gonna shoot through you ta get ta me, princess?" He'd meant the term derisively the first time, but suddenly realized that some part of him meant it. Though she was really more of a queen.
"They might," she responded, dismissively. "Those are Daddy's boys, not mine, and things are a bit complicated around here right now. They'll hesitate, though—isn't that nice? Anyway, I could still take you out if I wanted, but I've seen enough. I want to hire you, Mr. Redfox."
"That's goin' a little fast for me, ma'am. You were tryin' ta poison me a minute ago—still are, as far as I know." He ignored her assertion that she could still take him out.
"You weren't going to be much good to me if you'd let me connect with that little slap, and I like to clean up after myself."
Gajeel felt unexpectedly amused, though he didn't smile and didn't let go. "That's a hell of job interview, Miss Orlando—pass or die."
She shrugged. "I have no use for the weak in the first place, Mr. Redfox, and the job I have in mind for you requires strength and skill at least somewhat comparable to my own. I suggest that you accept my offer. You came here to work, so why not work for me?"
"Time ta move, your highness." Gajeel quickly moved sideways, pulling his dangerous captive with him. Behind him, he heard the muscle shout for him to stop.
"Does this mean you'll work for me?" Her voice was still perfectly composed. She wasn't struggling, he noticed.
"Maybe. Tell me where to meet you and we'll talk."
"Fine. Six o'clock tonight at The Zinc. It won't be open, but nobody will be surprised to see me—I often drop by to check on things."
"Be serious." Gajeel was still alive at thirty—that made him an old man in the hired thugs game. He wasn't going to walk into some trap a baby could see a mile away.
"Fine. You name it, I'll be there."
"Same time, sandwich place two blocks down this street. I'll buy you a coffee."
"Shall I wear Chanel or Vonnet?" she demanded ironically.
"Surprise me. And leave the boys outside—you don't need 'em."
The 'boys' in question turned into the alley at that moment, clearly ready to shoot. Gajeel decided to take off, but Minerva had other ideas. She leaned into Gajeel and pulled his head down by one ear. It was disturbing how easily she managed it. He was going to have to think about that.
"You're annoying me, Mr. Redfox," she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. "But you're the only one who survived the interview." Then she pressed a soft kiss against his lips and stepped back, glancing pointedly at her captive wrist. Over her shoulder she called, "Put those things away, children—you aren't scaring anyone here but yourselves."
Very wary—all the more so for being unexpectedly turned on—Gajeel opened his hand, and Minerva turned and walked away, back straight and head high. She paused when she reached her so-called bodyguards and gave Gajeel one last, slow, measuring look. Then she was gone, and the muscle hurried after her.
Gajeel shook his head. This was going to be interesting. He hoped he survived.
[END]
A/N: There is a sequel to this story in my head. I mean, I know what Minerva wants Gajeel to do, and roughly how that will work out and how things will work out between them. Power dynamics, a lot of steamy heat, and moments of real tenderness. Please let me know what you think of this story, which for now is a one-shot.
Eyes narrowed, Minerva contemplated the man standing across the guild, shouting obscenities at his guildmates. “He was in the Council?” she questioned Lucy, feeling knocked sideways by the revelation. “I’m not sure I believe you. Take it from me, he looks more like he belongs in a dark guild.” All that metal in his face had to be against Council uniform regulations.
Lucy giggled at her friend. “Oh, he was part of a dark guild, too.” When Minerva turned to stare incredulously at her, Lucy laughed outright. “Alright so technically he was spying on them, but still!”
This was choice information. Minerva almost felt bad that it had taken several drinks to get Lucy to spill it. The blonde was a chatterbox under normal circumstances, but once the alcohol got involved there were zero reservations left in her.
A sudden, heavy weight thumped down at their table, startling Lucy into knocking over her drink. “Hey!” she griped, flushed and trying to muster up her best glare for the interloper. “What was that for, Gajeel?!”
The object of their conversation snorted. “For the better, I’d say. Your liver will thank me in ten years.” While Lucy pouted, he turned his crimson gaze towards his much more sober table companion. “My ears were burning. What’s your interest in my Council stint?”
Dragon slayer hearing. Of course.
Gajeel flashed his too-sharp teeth at Minerva. “If you want me to help you with any parking tickets, I’d say you’re out of luck. They didn’t much like me there.”
He sounded wholly proud of his bad reputation with the Council. Then again, he was a member of Fairy Tail. Minerva had to assume that was par for the course.
“No, I can take care of my own parking tickets.”
Grinning, Gajeel held up his hands in a helpless gesture. “Seriously, though, you don’t strike me as one for idle gossip.”
She considered him for a brief moment. “That’s true.”
Still grinning at her, he leaned forward conspiratorially. “So? What do you need, then?”
Minerva was relieved that at least one Fairy knew how to get right to business. “Just looking to sate my curiosity about something.”
“Don’t leave us all in suspense now,” Gajeel mocked, gesturing to the table.
“Yeah!” Lucy added with a hiccup, and slammed her hand down on the table, wincing as soon as the pain registered.
“Maybe don’t hurt yourself,” Gajeel stated to the drunk girl.
“I’m gonna go find Mira.” With that mumble, Lucy shakily stood and tottered in the general direction of the bar.
Once she had assessed that the girl was safely in Mirajane’s clutches, Minerva turned back to her table companion. “I know that someone at the Council had to have sanctioned my return to Sabertooth. What I want to know is who that person was.”
“What do you want to know that for?” Gajeel asked. “If it was me, I’d just take the favor and be grateful for it.”
It was Minerva’s turn to snort at him. “Somehow I doubt you would.”
He hesitated for a moment, and then burst into laughter. “Okay, you got me! You’re right, I didn’t take Belno’s meddling very well.” Regret tinted his words, an emotion that Minerva was all too familiar with. He shrugged. “Okay, guess there’s no harm in telling you. It was me.”
She stared at him, flabbergasted.
“So what are you going to do, now that you know?”
Minerva thought about it for a long moment. Her original intention had been simply to thank whoever it had been. Maybe to ask them why they’d given her another chance. If they felt that she’d lived up to that opportunity, made the best of it, maybe.
But she thought that she probably already understood from their brief conversation. There was no more need to ask the questions.
Instead, she offered, “How about I buy you another drink?”
Gajeel’s grin was infectious. “Done! Mira! Two more over here! The Saber is buying!”
Omg wait wait wait can you do a combination of 50&8 for Mineel please please please?! 😭💕
I saw earlier that you needed some cheering up, so I sat myself down to get this request written for ya. I hope you enjoy it and I hope it brightens you day a little dearie!
Prompt: “Just please be my best friend right now, and not the person I confessed my love to.” for Mineel
Confession
The world around her seemed to slow down around her as the glass slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, shattering into too many pieces and spilling it’s red contents. Minerva felt like that glass right now. The words left her mouth before she could stop them and the look on Gajeel’s face made her feel like she’d just taken a knife to her stomach and she was about to collapse. Only the presence of the broken glass kept her on her feet.
Gajeel approached the rooted woman and lifted her off the floor, taking care to keep her bare feet from getting cut. All Minerva heard was the crunch of glass under his boots and his voice, though she didn’t catch what he was saying to her. After he set her on the couch and checked her feet for any cuts, he went back to the kitchen and cleaned up the mess.
This scene felt too familiar and she thought about the first time they’d spoken. His disheveled appearance had made her laugh and his gentle attentions to her swollen ankle made her blush. After dinner that night, the two of them became fast friends. They lived on opposite schedules and her busy schedule didn’t give her much free time but at least once a week they met up for dinner and just hung out, normally at her place since it was cleaner he said.
The first few months she was content with their relationship. Then one night, after she’d had a few drinks with some college friends, she ran into him as she stumbled her way up the stairs to her apartment. He’d been with another woman and when he stepped closer to her to make sure she was okay, she could smell the woman’s perfume on him. That was her first time experiencing jealousy and the feeling never really left her after that.
It had been weeks since that night and while she’d not seen that woman since, or any other woman with him, it hurt that she felt this way. She could admit that she’d fallen for him. Hell, she’d just admitted it to him only minutes ago. She didn’t mean for it to happen, it just had. Work kept her busy and so Minerva had never really thought about dating or anything like that simply because she kept herself so busy that the chance never presented itself. Not like she’d ever attract many men simply because she’d been told that her independence intimidated men.
Not Gajeel though. He was actually rather impressed that she was so intent on taking care of herself and living how she wanted to live. They were both individuals that made the rules for their lives and didn’t abide by how others thought that they should. Would he still think of her that way? She’d just shown him how vulnerable she really was and knew that he had to be at least a little surprised with that new behavior of hers.
Too ashamed to go and help him clean her mess, she pulled her knees to her chest and started to sob, hoping that he didn’t think any less of her and that maybe they could still be friends after this night.
“We’re more than just friends and you know it.”
Her words rang clearly in his head as he swept up the glass that littered the floor. He thought that he’d misheard her, when he turned around to check on her after the glass had fallen from her hands he knew that had been what she said. The wide-eyed expression on her face told him that she hadn’t meant for those words to leave her mouth. He wondered how long Minerva had felt that way. They’d been friends for half a year now and only had time to meet once a week, but those few hours one night a week were his favorite. He loved spending time with the woman doing absolutely nothing besides eating good food, listening to her talk about the men at work who were intimidated. Sometimes their night included a movie and cuddling on the couch.
He’d fallen for her in an instant and there was no climbing up for him. But she prided herself with her independence. He admired that about her but knew that he stood no chance against her values so he was happy to know that she enjoyed his company enough to keep him around as a friend. It wasn’t enough though. He started to distract himself with another woman, keeping her a secret from Minerva because he was ashamed of himself.
It did nothing to curb his desire for her and only made it grow for her. He missed a woman he’d never spent the night with. He was somewhat glad that she never felt compelled to date as he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he ever saw her in the arms of another man. Her quiet sobs drew him out of his thoughts and he quickly made sure there was no remaining glass on the floor before going to check on her.
Minerva had pulled her legs to her chest, her head against her knees and her hair falling around her. Gajeel sat on the opposite end of the couch and reached out to her. “Min,” he whispered.
“Just please be my best friend right now, and not the person I confessed my love to,” she managed to say between her sniffling.
Gajeel smiled at her despite the stinging in his heart from her words. “Whatever you need me to be,” he answered, hoping that she’d get deeper meaning.
What she needed was to get a grip and try to fix things before she lost what she did have with him. Those words that she’d spoken, she believed them to be true but she hadn’t meant to say them. The level of comfort between them, the playful flirting, how he at least looked like he was listening when she bitched about work. She believed that there was more between them, they just hadn’t ever acted on it. But she needed to stop thinking about all that for the moment.
“Thank you for cleaning up the glass, Gaj. And I’m sorry if I surprised you with what I said,” she said meekly.
“I was surprised, but not in the way you’re thinking, Min.” She looked into his crimson eyes and felt his hold on her hand tighten. Before she knew it, he yanked her into his lap and held her close. “You have no idea how long I been waiting for you woman.”
Minerva’s eyes widened as his words finally sunk in. She knew that she was sometimes oblivious but had he really felt the same way about her this whole time. “How long?” she asked hesitantly.
“About a month after that first dinner,” he chuckled and shrugged.
Her eyes suddenly narrowed and she smacked his head. “That long and you never said anything?” she snapped.
“Dammit, it was complicated. Let me expla-”
“No. Just kiss me already.” Not needing to be told twice, Gajeel close the distance between them, surprised by how quickly Minerva could do a one-eighty with her attitude.
Gajeel grins sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Minerva,” he says.
Minerva sighs. “What does it say about you when you can’t even cook spaghetti? I take ten minutes for a bath and by the time I’m ba– what the heck, it’s charred on the bottom?” Minerva shrieks and tosses a baleful glare towards her boyfriend.
Gajeel doesn’t speak – he’s too busy trying to hold his laughter in at her frenzy.
Minerva smacks his head and stomps away. She throws the utensil into the sink with a glare and jumps when she feels two arms snake their way across her middle. Gajeel purrs in her ear, “Minerva, let me make it up to you.”
“No.” She is resolute in her answer. And then she whispers softly, “Sting got me that pan when we moved in together.”
“Really, a pan? Man, my brother really needs to reevaluate his friendship with him.” Gajeel’s snickers shake her from behind.
She slaps his hands and turns around to face him. “Hey, I liked that pan.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Gajeel rests his forehead against Minerva’s. “I love you, Min.”
Minerva snorts, but she still returns the sentiment. “I love you too, asshole.”
Light filtered in from the break of dawn. Like a slow motion waterfall it cascaded down the white walls of the new bare apartment. As much as Minerva hated the white washed walls she had to admit, with her and Gajeel combined they had more than covered the space with adequate band posters and dark cloth tapestries of intricate designs.
A small statue of the Eiffel Tower sat on the windowsill. It was backlit into a silouhette when the sun moved behind it. She smiled remembering the gift her best friend Sting had given her. And the day that came with it.
"So, I know you said you wanted to travel-" Sting rolled his blue eyes as he talked. His smile was already growing. "aannndd I know obey is tight but maybe you can keep this." He handed her a small box no larger than five inches square and tied with a cute black bow, her favorite color. He truly did know how to cater to her aesthetic whims. Sting kept talking as Minerva ripped into the paper around the box. "I know how much you love France so maybe- I don't know- this can be a reminder of where you'll begin your travels...or something."
Minerva was done ripping the paper and she held the tiny Eiffel Tower in the palms of her hands. Transfixed by the Tower and Stings words she dropped the box to the ground. He opened his mouth once more but Minerva cut him off when her arms wrapped around his neck.
"D-Do you like it?" he stammered.
"I love it!" she whispered into his hair. After letting go she turned around. Across the room, by the bat of course, was her newly wed. Looking st him now she couldn't believe she got to call him that.
Giddy with joy she ran up to Gajeel and slammed the Eiffel Tower on the top of the bar. He nearly spit his drink out in fright.
"What the hell woman! Not even one day and you're scaring me?"
"We're going to Paris!"
"What?" He almost stumbled over his words.
"For our honeymoon! We have to 'cause Sting just got me this. It's a sign."
Gajeel snickered his usual way and took another sip of his drink. "Yeah, sure. As soon as we get the ten grand to pay for this wedding reception," he spoke sarcastically but Minerva gave him her pleading eyes. One look at her and his expression softened but only slightly. Then he looked away and his red eyes became dark and pessimistic again. "We don't have the money, Min..."
Minerva put on a playful smirk that Gajeel almost missed. She leaned down to whisper in his ear, her right hand traveling down his shirt as the other drew circles on his back. He nearly squirmed out of his seat the farther down her hand went. "I think between you and me we can make it work." She said softly. Then she nibbled a bit on the top of his ear. She could almost feel the heat coming off him now. Quieter than a whisper she hissed, "Think of the foreign sex moves we could try..."
The bartender was just beginning to notice something more than just fondling was going on when Gajeel jumped upwards, forcing her off him. Without looking at her he grabbed her wrist and whipped towards the door.
Sting, with the rest of their close friends, tried to stop them with a friendly wave. But Gajeel kept pulling her along with a resolute, "We're going to Paris!" Minerva waved back at Sting happily.
"Hey babe." A familiar voice broke her out of her thoughts. She was back staring at the window and that tiny Eiffel Tower. With the rising sun behind it, it was rivaled in beauty only by the original Tower just miles from their apartment. Gajeel came up behind her and began rubbing her shoulders as he pecked kisses to her neck.
"Do you remember when we first got that?" She asked pointing to the Eiffel Tower outside.
Gajeel laughed. "'Course I do. I could jog your memory if ya want?" he said as his hands began to travel down her sides. His lips caressed her neck fervently now.
Minerva smiled into his embrace. Instinct finally taking over she got up and lead him right back into their bedroom.
The morning's light rose above the Eiffel Tower as dawn broke through the clouds and a dream of Paris turned into reality.
