Chapter 31

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A/N: Hello my lovelies! I hope you're liking the story so far, I've been super self conscious with my writing and I tend to compare my works with other authors and put myself down because their structures and details are so good and then I'm like, why do I do this?!
Why do you guys read? Lolol.

Anyway, please enjoy my art featured in this story, and please take 30 seconds of your time to listen to the beginning of the song in the header video, as it's a wedding song and I feel like it would set a nice mood to the scenes in this chapter.
  If it doesn't work, please let me know!

You dont have to listen to the whole thing lol just a bit of it. I'd love if you do!!

Thank you so much!

I'm forever grateful and humbled. I love you all.

Enjoy!

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Marinette winced at the unexpected flash in her face.
   She squeezed her eyes shut as the sudden gesture nearly blinded her. She stumbled into Alya, her vision slowly emanating back as she didn't expect the Le Grand Hotel to be this packed of people.

Some were Adrien's fans and others were the press trying to cover the biggest wedding in Paris.
  It indeed was Marinette's wedding day, and though she always dreamed of this day since she was a little girl, she never really imagined that it would somehow end up like this.

Marinette caught wind that it would be a rooftop wedding and with how dark the sky was getting now that the sun was beginning to set, she worried that her clumsiness would somehow prove her fate grave.

  "Talk about wedding of the year." Alya murmured, nearly tripping over her long yellow dress. "It looks like the entire fucking city showed up."

  Marinette gulped, her hand squeezing tightly around Alya's hand as her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She flinched, hearing the commotion around her and the loud sounds of the cameras snapping.

   She appreciated Adrien's bodyguards putting space between them, but Marinette would have appreciated it if Nathalie would have picked up the pace and rushed them inside the hotel before people got too many pictures.

  Marinette looked like a wreck. 

She was told that she'd be changing in one of the suites where she prepared her wedding dress, but they failed to mention a crowd would be waiting.

A deep blush formed on her cheeks, as Marinette simply showed up in sweats and a white T-shirt with a spaghetti stain from the dinner she had right before she had fallen asleep.

   Sporting sun glasses and a messy bun that almost looked like bed hair, Marinette had wished she put more thought into her look, especially while Alya stood beside her completely glammed up for the wedding of the decade. 

Marinette was just the baker's daughter all her life. 


  Granted, her father's bakery was quite popular among the locals of Paris, but no one stopped to take an interest in what she did in her private life behind and in front of closed doors.

  Hell, she was sure that she could poop in the grass and no one would bat an eye in her trajectory.

She knew that being Adrien's wife came with an entirely different platform, a platform that she would need some time to adjust to. 

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