Work Text:
"Honey?"
Adrien slung his apron up on the wall, dusting his hands off on the towel slung over his shoulder. "Coming!" He called. "Mr. Dupain?"
"That's fine." The kindly (and getting old, now) man replied. Adrien felt a familiar rush of gratitude towards his father-in-law as they bumped fists and Adrien headed for the stairs. He took them two at a time— he'd only left Marinette for a little while to help their parents make some things for tomorrow's sale, and he wanted to get back to her. His wife— his heart still leapt at the word— wasn't feeling well.
"You okay?!" He called, slowing himself as he poked his head through the trapdoor into Marinette's old room. They were in the process of buying an apartment next to the school that Adrien would hopefully be hired as a physics teacher at. But for now, the room that had always felt like home to him was their home.
Marinette stood in the center of the room. He instantly moved with more care, noting that there was something off about her. She had a hand up to her mouth, eyes glassy. Was she sick again?
Something was curled in her other hand.
Adrien stepped forward, brushing a stray hair out of her face. "Are you alright, m'lady?" He asked.
She nodded, lowering her hand. Relief swept through him— she was smiling, no, grinning, from ear to ear. And those tears were happy ones, thank god. "Yeah, kitty. I— I think—" She broke off, looking towards the window with a breathless laugh. "Well, you can stop worrying now."
"About what?" Adrien's hands wandered, finding their own path around her waist. She giggled, fingering at a flour stain on his shirt. "I haven't been worried about anything." He answered honestly.
(Well, mostly honestly. He tried not to worry. What surfaced in his dreams wasn't really up to him.)
"About… you." She gestured to him, giggling again. Adrien's heart leapt in his chest, even though he was still incredibly confused. He tried to draw her closer and she glanced down, eyelashes fluttering as she bit her lip.
He tilted her chin up, giving her a little pout that he knew she loved. "Now, m'lady, we're not going to be like our teenage selves, are we?" His expression broke into a grin, because darn was her enthusiasm infectious. "Seriously. What is so amazing?!"
"I— I don't know how to tell you!" She cried, laughing. "I just— I should have a pun planned, or some elaborate ruse to lead you around the city gathering clues, or I should pop it while we're—"
"Marinette!" Adrien cried, shaking her shoulders. "Please! Tell me! It's not fair to keep me in the dark like this!"
Marinette bit her lip again, chest tightening under the fabric of her wonderfully loose sleep gown. "Okay, okay— you know I'm not good with words—"
Adrien let out a groan that probably shook the foundation of the house, and Marinette began cackling uncontrollably. By the time she had managed to get her laughter under control, Adrien thought he was going to lose his mind. What is so interesting?! He wanted to cry, but he knew that would just set her off again, so he just… stood there, absentmindedly fiddling with the wedding ring on her free hand as she composed herself.
It took a while.
Finally, she held out her closed hand. Adrien tilted his head at it. "Ready?" She whispered.
Sudden fear struck through him. What could possibly be getting such a strong reaction from his wife? Was it a Miraculous? The Butterfly?
(For all he knew, it was a new style of jewelry she wanted him to try on. He'd love it either way.)
She dropped it into his hand.
Adrien turned the object over. It was long, flat on the top and bottom, with a slender curving piece that narrowed to a metal tip on one end. In the middle was a little screen, with two lines going down it.
Adrien's jaw dropped. He glanced up. "Beetle…"
She did that little thing, almost a shrug, biting her lip again. "What?" She whispered, every ounce of her body oozing excitement.
His expression dropped. "I have no idea what this is."
Marinette blinked, waiting for the punch line.
Seconds passed.
"You're serious?"
He nodded, scrunching his nose.
Marinette's jaw dropped, and she flung her arms wide. "Seriously?! Did Nathalie not teach you anything about how babies are made?!"
Adrien laughed—
Wait.
WAIT.
"WHAT?!"
Marinette let out a little squeal, and he grabbed her shoulders. "Did you just say what I think you just said?" He begged.
She cringed back. "…maybe?"
Joy exploded in him, shooting off like a champagne bottle that had been put in a paint mixer. He let out the loudest whoop of his life, scooping her up and twirling her around. His lips found hers in the chaos, burning, radiating joy permeating every fiber of their bodies. And then, ever so gently, he set his wife back down, and she sat on the chaise next to them.
Oh my god.
OH. MY. GOD.
Adrien's knees gave out and he crumpled, the ground spinning underneath him in the most delightful, insane way. His head nestled onto her lap, pressing against her stomach.
"There's a child in there." He breathed, chuckling. His wife's hand found his and gripped it tight.
"Yep." She was out of breath.
All the sleepless nights recently. The morning sickness. Her being tired—
"Our child." He replied.
"Yep." There was hot, molten happiness spilling from every pore of his beautiful wife's beautiful body, and he hugged her legs tighter, wishing he could squeeze every ounce of caring and warmth and love and adoration into her as he could—
"This isn't real." He decided, pressing a free hand to his heart. "This is a dream, and I'm going to wake up, and we're still going to be kids, and I'm going to be the most oblivious idiot ever—"
"Adrien!" His wife laughed. The mother of my child. "I swear this is not a dream!"
"Pinch me." He breathed. She grinned.
He yelped. "I didn't mean it!"
"How was I supposed to know that?!" She shot right back, still breathlessly laughing.
A beat.
"We're a family." Adrien whispered, looking up at his still-crying wife. "We're an actual, real, wonderful, family."
"The best."
"And—" He broke off, and darn it, because now tears were pricking at his own eyes and he couldn't bring himself to care.
'You can stop worrying about you.' She'd said.
Adrien felt a sob force its way out of him. His wife's hand drifted up, landing in his hair, they way she'd always done during patrols and long nights and after nightmares.
"We're having a child." He choked out.
His father's voice still echoed in his ears. 'You're not human! You never will be!'
Tears tracked rivers down Adrien's face as he looked up at his wife.
"We did it." He said, simply, and that was all he needed to say.
Because here?
He was safe. He was loved. He was wanted.
He was home.
And his heart was bursting with love for the new being he'd helped bring into the world. A new space in that once-cold heart of his had opened up, filled with a fire he didn't even know he'd possessed. It was fierce, caring, deadly but at the same time gentle. He let it fill him, opening up to it the same way he would so often open his arms and bask in the sun's rays.
"You're a dad." Marinette whispered, eyes shining like mirrors. It was a secret— their secret— this new feeling. Something the two of them would share forever.
"And you're a mother." Adrien whispered, mind filled with visions of domestic, peaceful life with his new family.
This was what healing felt like.
"Lord help us." Marinette laughed, laying her head on his.
Adrien chuckled, mind buzzing in a gentle, warm way. "How are we gonna keep track of this kid?"
"We'll have to call in backup." Marinette assured him. "I'm sure his aunts and uncles would be happy to help raise him."
"Mmmm…" Adrien felt his heart prick. "I guess we'll have to share."
"Believe me, we'll get tired quick." Marinette declared, but he could hear the softness in her tone. She felt the same way he did, without them even having to talk about it.
This was love, wasn't it?
A new thought occurred to him, and he shifted. One of his legs was going numb. "Wait, you said boy?"
Marinette nodded, her chin bumping into the top of his head. "It's gonna be a boy. Mothers know these things."
Mothers. He couldn't ever imagine that word giving him less of a thrill. "Is that true?" He asked, tone half-teasing.
Marinette nodded. "Of course! We've been doing this for thousands of years!"
He just grinned, too distracted and happy to think of anything snarky to say. "Whatever you say, m'lady."
Adrien stopped for a moment.
"Going back downstairs feels wrong right now."
"You better not leave me!"
"I wouldn't dream of it." Adrien promised, riding the high of security and joy and hope. "Well, it's a good thing we're getting an apartment next month."
"Oh, goodness, yes!" Marinette exploded. Adrien wordlessly handed her their computer as she babbled— "We're going to need to buy things for the nursery, and figure out how to tell everyone, and plan the baby shower, and then I'm not going to be able to run the intern program for a couple months—"
"Marinette." Adrien interrupted. She blinked up at him.
"At least let me help with the brainstorming."
She grinned, scooting over to let him sit. He looped an arm around her waist, leaning in and nuzzling into her. The scent of vanilla washed over him— she'd showered recently. He breathed it in, heady with the knowledge that he was a dad.
Resolve hit him like a brick, swirling and hardening in his chest. He'd never let anyone treat his son like his father had treated him.
"A son." He breathed. "I'm gonna be the coolest dad ever."
"Yes you are, kitty. Now pick a color scheme."
He didn't even think he saw which one he picked.
A son.
Oh, good lord, was he going to pass out? This had been his dream since— well, since that weird Cabbage Patch Kid fever dream, he hadn't even thought of having kids before then. But a son! He could teach him how to add and how to ride a bike and how to read and cook and fence and he could teach him little tidbits of all the languages he and his lady had picked up during their travels, and they could sit by the fireplace and read and he would patch up his scrapes and help him with his homework and teach him how to flirt and let him steal the cat Miraculous every once in a while and tease him about his crushes and teach him how to treat a woman right and watch him learn how to stand up for himself and speak out and help him get ready for his first date and watch as he got married to the love of his life—
And now Adrien was crying again. Shoot.
He hugged his wife a little bit tighter, feeling like the sun itself was trying to burst out of his stomach. "Have I ever told you how much I love you, m'lady?" He whispered, voice cracking in the middle.
Marinette beamed up at him, eyes flicking to his lips. Adrien felt his heart skip a beat. "I think you have," she breathed, leaning in. "But you could tell me again."
It's safe to say they didn't come downstairs until her mother called them for dinner.
(And now, it was two in the morning and Adrien still couldn't calm himself down. His arm was looped over his wife's, back pressed against the wall. Her hand was over his, pressing them both into her stomach. He could imagine the little child in there, just waiting to be unleashed upon the world.)
Oh, god, he grinned to himself.
The minutes passed. His mind spun dizzyingly fast.
He had questions.
He knew his wife needed sleep. Logically. She was carrying a whole other living thing. A son!
But also he had questions.
He gently tickled the base of her neck until she batted at him. "Beetle?" He whispered.
"Go away."
"No, I need to know something."
Silence.
"One question? Please?"
A beat.
"Fine."
Adrien licked his lips, gathering up the courage to broach what sounded like a forbidden topic. "Okay. That thing you showed me? That told you you were pregnant?"
"Mmph."
"Did you shove it up your—"
Somehow, even though she was tangled in his arms and still mostly asleep, his wife managed to wriggle all the way around and grab a pillow. Or at least he assumed that's what happened, because before he could finish he heard a whizz-thump and got a faceful of fabric.
"I'll… I'll take that as a no?" His muffled voice asked.
His wife's wheezing laughter wasn't much of an answer.
(He asked Nino the next day, and the guy had way too much fun explaining things. In detail. Very too much detail. While Alya cackled in the corner. And also filmed it.)
(But his wife got a kick out of it, so really, how could he be mad?)
A/N: don't ask me what kind of junk the first five paragraphs of that were because this was supposed to be a little warm up and uh... *checks word count* *deep sigh* yeah it might have gotten away from me a little bit. Speaking of I have like five million warmups i never found a reason to post... would y'all like to see them? Some of them are pure word vomit but I think some of them are pretty decent too... and at this point the fandom needs all the new content it can get, right? ML Secret Santa is doing WONDERS for that though!