Prince Balerion Blackfyre, Queen Daenerys half brother visited his mother's kingdom, The Reach seeking more alliances with the Reach itself as well oversee the construction of a secondary home for House Blackfyre. While there, the Prince lay eyes on Margaery Tyrell's cousin, Alla Tyrell, recently free from the false accusations against her and her cousins. Attendants say the prince and lady danced over the night and talked. For those with eyes, it was clear that the prince had taken interest in the beauty. However, in those days in Highgarden, it's said the prince was going to be received with a maiden to attend to his needs at night.
Instead, Alla Tyrell appeared on his room and acording to servants, the lady lost her maidenhead that night with the Prince. Rumors spread of a romance, and the Prince paying extra attention to the woman. If anyone opposed to the flirtacious and romantic relationship, no one said a word, when the lady began to wake in his room. Regardless, before leaving Highgarden, Balerion speaks with her parents and to send word to his half-sister the Queen, to approve of the match. They say the half-dragon could not get enough of his little rose and wanted to take her to his new Keep, Blackfyre Rush, in the Crownlands while the new home in the Reach is built.
special shout out to @orange-peony for such a lovely prompt :)
The world outside had become that pristine color of endless white, pearl-grey skies fading imperceptibly into the horizon, as flutters of snow drifted to gather as powder laid fresh on the ground. A sense of calm quiet servitude came over the town of London, scarcely a noise breaking through the windows of Grimmauld Place as Harry adjusted his perch against the windowsill, forehead meeting glass, breath fogging the opaque panes.
Soft sounds emerged, a faint rustling of fabric, before Draco’s voice drew his eyes back to the couch behind him. Harry turned, taking in his ruffled downy hair, pink wrinkled cheeks, and bleary eyes. A faint smile brushed his lips, a sharp tugging of want stretching his heart.
“Still snowing?”
Harry nodded, wordlessly motioning a hot cup of tea held under stasis into Draco’s palms. Harry was filled with anxious anticipation that Draco had gotten stuck there the night before, both staying up late sipping firewhiskey while poring over their latest case. So absorbed they were, they hadn’t noticed the snowstorm bearing down on them and had only realized when the wireless playing quietly in the background rang with an announcement that the Floo network was being shut down due to safety concerns, the Ministry advising people to avoid apparating and to shelter in place. Draco had just caught his eye, shrugged, and poured them each another glass.
Walls down and vulnerable, Harry had finally noticed over the years that Draco was soft in a way that was entirely unexpected. He was quiet, articulate, and actually quite funny if you were close enough to him to crack his surface. And Harry cherished the fact that he was close with him now; so much so, that he was stuck frozen on the precipice of his heart spilling over, fearing Draco’s retreat back to icy indifference, or worse, casual antipathy. So, Harry took comfort in the intimacy he could, accepting that this, as fragile and shattering as it was at times, was better than nothing at all.
He glanced up from where he had been staring into his mug to find Draco draping blankets across the furniture in the room, finding books and other miscellaneous objects to hold the corners taut. Happy with his work, Draco’s lips turned up in a sweet, secret smile, before throwing pillows beneath his contraption and kneeling. He crawled carefully underneath the makeshift door, a milky white hand darting out to grab his tea, before disappearing again.
Harry watched dumbfounded from his post by the chilled window, taking a sip of his own mug. Draco’s head popped out from beneath the fortress, tilting it in invitation, before vanishing. Slipping to his knees, Harry clambered over awkwardly, one hand balancing the hot liquid, until he collapsed beneath the blankets, twisting himself onto the mound of pillows cushioning the wooden floors.
And there was Draco, ethereal beneath a string of conjured lights, brushing against him shoulder to thigh, smiling at him wide with childlike delight.
“What do you think?” Draco’s breath was light against his cheekbones, his warmth beside him providing an effusing bone deep flare.
Harry turned his face towards him, eyes raking over those features that he had come to know and love so well, gaze hesitating slightly over his lips. He finally wrenched his eyes up, meeting that familiar silver directly.
“Beautiful,” a whispered confirmation, confession wrapped in honesty, slipping out before he could help himself.
Never one to do things by half, Harry left his tea to sit at his side, bringing his warmed fingertips to cup Draco’s face. He paused to judge for any sign of hesitation but was met only by the sight of bright eyes and flushed cheeks. He leaned forward slowly, breathing in cedar and citrus, the faintest hint of earl grey, and something deeper that was best defined as purely Draco.
Their lips met softly, a barely there brushing of skin against skin, chaste in its acknowledgement that this was something delicate to be held between them like finely spun glass. Everything beyond their bubble was muted and colorless; but here, was a prismatic bloom, unfurling towards a newly-lit path of endless Sunday mornings, and kitchens dusted in flour, and hands tracing silently, meandering mindlessly as they mapped inches of skin.
Harry pulled back slightly, leaving scarcely a centimeter between them, breathing lowly.
“I wasn’t sure.”
Draco’s hand drifted up, a mirror to his own vulnerability, fingertips trailing lightly against his stubbled cheek. He huffed a quiet laugh, eyes glossy in slight disbelief.
“I’ve always known it was you, Harry. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
Your works are neat, amazing, adorable, and well-planned. It makes sense why I keep coming back to your wonderful blog! ^^
- Venus
I was feeling drained from math and stats and now I’m just like aww~shucks!💕 Thank you so much for your kind words every time, dear! It’s so sweet of you and it makes my day!!😊
He fully expected her to recognize him. His face was once everywhere, and he wasn’t exactly out of the private eye now.
But what he didn’t expect was for him to recognize her.
“Marinette?”
Her face took on a pale shade, and he was ready to catch her if she passed out. “Adrien?”
His grin was strained. “Hi.”
He blinked a few times before color rushed back to her face. “Hi.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “This just got awkward, didn’t it?”
“You think?” she squeaked. “I just found out I’ve been making out with my boss in my free time. How is it not awkward?”
Silence rent the room, and her face turned a shade darker as she clapped her hands over her mouth.
That was all Adrien needed to start laughing. “Oh, Marinette,” he said, slowly calming down. “You know just what to say, bugaboo.”
The nickname seemed to put her the slightest bit at ease. “We just became an HR nightmare, didn’t we? Isn’t the rule of thumb you shouldn’t date in the workplace?”
“Who says we’re in the workplace?” he retorted, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
She giggled again, the tense set of her shoulders slowly relaxing. “You’re terrible,” she whispered. “But I knew that already.”
He shrugged.
“But I just realized something.”
“What?”
She pursed her lips together. “After all this time trying to set us up together, Nino and Alya would have a field day if they ever found out we’re married.”
…
It took until they finished making dinner to hit their stride. Marinette had always felt somewhat at ease around Adrien to the point where she loved when they could unwind with online games together, but it took some time to absorb the fact he was her chaton. However, once she reconciled that in her mind…
“Adrien, I swear—”
“I’m not doing anything, Marinette.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Think about what?”
She squealed as he threw soapy water from the sink at her. She glared at him, and he just returned that look with a shit-eating grin.
Quickly, she twisted the towel and smacked him. He tried to dodge but had to pull his hands out of the sink in the process, consequently dripping soapy water everywhere.
He flicked his hands at her, spraying her with bubbles and dirty dish water. She used her towel to block as much as possible before twisting it again and aiming at him. He bolted forward to the sink, which allowed her to get his arm good, but he managed to grab the spray nozzle on the sink.
It took Marinette a second to realize what he was up to.
She hurried to scamper away, trying to use the towel to block the stream, but he still got her good.
“Adrien!” she squealed, the bottom half of her dress now wet and soggy.
“Serves you right for hitting me.”
“You struck first! How dare you do that to your wife. I want a divorce.”
At those words, Adrien grabbed her, instantly swinging her up over his shoulder. She couldn’t help but laugh at the fact her husband’s hands were wet against her skin or the fact that her wet dress was likely soaking his shirt.
He then threw her back over his shoulder, her landing on the bed, still laughing as he crawled on top of her and pinned her. “Never!”
She laughed harder, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding him tightly. If this was what married life looked like, then she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
They took a moment to calm down, but even when they did, they didn’t move. They simply stayed wrapped up in each other.
“You don’t really want a divorce, right?” Adrien quietly whispered.
She frowned. “What? No.”
Under her touch, she felt his shoulders relax.
“I… I’m really glad to be married to you.”
He squeezed her tighter before pulling away enough for her to see his face clearly. “I’m really glad to be married to you, too,” he said. “I know that maybe this wasn’t the best way to go about getting married, but honestly, I think that if anyone could get away with it, we can.”
“That’s an optimistic way of looking at it,” she said.
He shrugged. “Maybe it has to do with the fact that I somehow lucked out and married the love of my life and that I don’t particularly care how that happened, only that it did.”
She couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re such a dork.”
“Your dork,” he clarified.
“Yeah,” she said, running her hands through his hair, slowly musing Adrien’s hairstyle so that it looked more akin to Chat’s. She almost liked that fluffy, wild style of Chat’s unkempt hair better on him. “My dork.”
“If you keep running your hands through my hair like that, we’re not going to leave this room for a while.”
She felt her face and neck and chest heat up from the implication. With a moment’s thought, she figured he probably meant kisses only, but… “Well, it’s our wedding night, isn’t it?”
Considering the way he choked on air, it confirmed he was only teasing her. “W-what?”
She giggled, and his expression fell. “Tease,” he accused.
“Your tease,” she said, playfully tapping his nose.
His look of anger faded away to something soft and loving as he grabbed her hand before she could pull away and kiss the tip of her finger. “My tease.”
She gave him a wink, and he tackled her to the bed again, holding her tightly. She settled into his embrace, happily relishing this time with her husband.
Speaking of which…
“We still have to sign the wedding papers,” Marinette reminded him.
Adrien hummed. “Tomorrow. I don’t particularly feel inclined to move at the moment.”
That was fine by Marinette because frankly, she didn’t feel inclined to move, either.
...
14. Sick Day
Adrien refused to move. He was warm and comfortable and happy. Mostly because he was not alone.
He pulled his wife closer against his chest. His wife. It sounded so odd yet so wonderful to say. He could barely believe he was actually married. That his lady would be by his side every single day. That they would share a future together. It was a wonderful prospect.
Slowly, the events of last night came catching up to him. They’d been snuggling in bed after a play war washing the dishes. He’d tackled her to his bed when she teasingly mentioned divorcing him.
Honestly, the mere word caused him to doubt, though there was no need to worry since she’d assured him a very big way that she had no intention of divorcing him.
Yesterday, before the wedding, he figured that his lady wouldn’t be comfortable with a wedding night and was fully prepared to spend the night getting to know the woman beyond the mask and likely share a good handful of kisses. But the clothes that were completely scattered across the floor were a pretty good indication that more than just kisses happened last night.
And he had no regrets about it.
His phone rang from somewhere on the floor. He grunted, ignoring it in favor of holding his still sleeping wife.
Note to self, he observed as the phone rang loudly through the room. My lady sleeps through everything.
No wonder she was always late despite setting alarms.
The phone stopped, and Adrien smiled. He shut his eyes, intending to grab another few minutes of shut eye before his phone started ringing again.
His lady stirred. “Huh. Wha…?”
He gave her a squeeze. “Go back to sleep, love,” he said, kissing her temple.
She didn’t take much convincing, immediately snuggling back down into the pillow and sheets again.
Reluctantly, Adrien slid out of bed to search for his phone in his pant’s pocket. “Hello?” he asked, his voice groggy from sleep.
“Mr. Agreste,” the voice of his secretary came through the phone. “Another potential buyer called hoping to set up a meeting today.”
Nooooo, he mentally whined. I’m not going anywhere today. “Tell them I’m sick and schedule out a few days. Thank you.”
“Oh…” his secretary answered. “Does that mean you won’t be coming in today.”
“Nope. Or tomorrow.”
“Understood. Get well soon. I will give the buyer a call back.”
“Thanks.” With that, Adrien hung up the phone, set it on vibrate, and dropped it on the night stand. He then slipped back into bed and snuggled back up to his wife.
She hummed, sliding her arms around him and settled against his chest. “Mine,” she mumbled.
“Yours for the next couple days, my lady,” he said, settling back down on his pillow and shutting his eyes. “I’m at your service.”
“My pillow,” she mumbled against his chest.
He smiled. He could manage that.
They laid in bed a while longer until eventually, the light streaming through the windows woke him completely from his sleep. Marinette was still asleep, though, and he remembered her mentioning that she could sleep well into the day if given the chance. Considering their late-night akuma battle two nights ago, and their wildly emotional day involving a wedding yesterday, she was probably going to be asleep for a while yet.
Maybe making her breakfast would wake her up. At least, he was getting hungry as well as needing to use the bathroom, so as much as he loved being held by his wife, he got out of bed, grabbing a pair of boxers and gym shorts from his closet while he was at it.
After emerging from the bathroom, he caught sight of a groggy Marinette searching for him in bed. When she caught sight of him, she relaxed. “Hey.”
“Good morning, bugaboo,” he quietly greeted, walking over to the bed and sitting down on the edge so as to give her a good morning kiss. “Sleep well?”
With a smile, she nodded. “I like your bed.”
“Our bed, now,” he corrected with a giddy grin.
“And I like you as a pillow,” she shyly added, biting her lip as she settled back down in the sheets and pillows.
“I’m happy to serve as one,” he said. “Are you hungry? I was just about to make breakfast.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Do you want me to help?”
“No,” he dismissed with a grin. “I’m more than happy to serve my wife this morning.”
Her grin widened. “Okay.”
He leaned down to press a kiss to her temple before heading to the kitchen to make something for her. He’d been practicing his crepes for the past week and was more than excited to finally be able to show them off to her.
The batter was easy enough to throw together, but he made a couple failed crepes before the third one came out nicely. He grinned at his success.
In between the cooking of crepes, he sliced some strawberries for filling and whipped some cream for the filling. By the time he assembled a couple for him and his wife, Marinette emerged from the bedroom
Wearing his button-up shirt.
His heart was not behaving.
She gave a sheepish smile, making her look utterly adorable in the oversized shirt. “Hey.”
“You look ravishing.”
That… was not what he planned to say. Didn’t make it any less true, but still.
She blushed. “Um… thanks?”
He glanced at the plates in his hands. “Crepes?”
Her eyes widened. “Wow. What a treat.”
He pretended like that compliment didn’t go straight to his head. “Only the best for my wife.”
She giggled, walking up to take a seat beside him at the table. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“You’re welcome,” he warmly replied, earning him a kiss.
He could really get used to this.
“So,” Marinette began, tentatively picking at the crepe. “I… got a text from my mom this morning. Asking where I was and why I didn’t come home last night.”
Adrien’s gut sank. “You didn’t tell them.”
“No,” she whined, setting her fork down. “I didn’t know how to approach it. I mean, what was I going to say? ‘Hey mom and dad. I’m getting married to my partner that you didn’t know I was dating for years. Oh, what partner you ask? Well, I’m Ladybug and I’m marrying Chat Noir. No, I don’t know who he is, but I’ll figure it out soon enough.’” With a groan, she dropped her face into her hands. “I’m a terrible daughter.”
Unsure of how else to respond, Adrien reached out to pull his wife into a hug, but she came into his lap fairly willingly, allowing him to hold her tightly, rubbing her back in reassurance. “Marinette,” he began. “I wish I could help you, but I don’t really know what to do in this sort of situation.”
“I know,” she whined. “It’s my own fault. I got myself into this situation and I don’t expect you to be the one to pull me out.”
“Hey,” he said. “That’s not what I meant. I mean that while I don’t know what would be the best way to approach it—you know my parent situation—I’ll be there to help you out in any way you need me to. You don’t have to face it alone. That’s what the rings on our hands mean.”
He reached for her left hand with his, awkwardly showing off both their rings. “It means I’ll be here for you, to support you in the entirety of your life, and you do the same for me.”
She turned to meet his gaze, but before he could flash her a smile, she took his cheeks in her hands, gently pulling him down to meet her for a kiss. “Thank you, kitty.”
His grip on her waist tightened as he reached up to cradle her head with his free hand. “For you, my lady, anything.”
