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A light flutter of kicks pulled Adrien from his sleep. He hummed to himself, caressing the rounded stretch of his stomach.
“Give me a couple more hours of sleep,” he told the baby.
Plagg, curled up in his nest in Adrien’s tissue box, stirred with a groan. “They’re restless lately.”
Adrien rolled onto his side, which relieved some of the pressure from his growing womb. At only seventeen weeks pregnant, he already felt enormous. “Stop saying they, Plagg. There’s just one in there.”
He heard, rather than saw, Plagg’s eye roll. “If you say so. With the Ladybug miraculous in the mix, you’ll be lucky if it isn’t three or four. Which reminds me. When are you going to tell her?”
Adrien sighed. A few weeks before the start of summer break, he and Ladybug had defeated a gender swap akuma. They’d enjoyed some flirty banter in their temporary bodies, but Ladybug had been a perfect gentleman. She’d made plenty of sex jokes, then brushed a kiss on Chat Noir’s cheek and gotten down to business. According to Plagg, a kiss was enough.
“It’s the miraculous of creation, and we kwamis don’t joke around with that sort of thing,” he’d explained when Adrien had demanded to know why, despite defeating the akuma and mostly changing back, he still had a vagina. “For a few minutes, the potential for her to impregnate you was there. When she touched you with desire in her heart, her magic and yours interacted accordingly.”
And that was that. Adrien was pregnant.
With Nathalie bedridden and his father distracted, it was easy enough to hide. Now that he’d quit modeling, no one seemed to notice or care that he was gaining weight, and strategic layering hid the true extent of it. By the time he started to show in earnest, summer break had begun. His friends learned to accept that Adrien wouldn’t join them in pickup games in the park, go swimming, or sneak sips from the bottles in Kim’s parents’ liquor cabinet. Every time he said no, Alix, who knew more than she should, raised her eyebrows and teased him for being a square. But that was all.
Adrien knew he couldn’t keep his pregnancy secret forever, but for now he liked having something that was just for him. He’d spent his whole life scrutinized, objectified, and fawned over by people who barely cared whether Adrien the person enjoyed being Adrien the product. The baby was his. His secret. His family.
He rubbed soothing circles into his swollen stomach until the fluttering kicks subsided.
“I still have a few months, Plagg. Besides, the baby doesn’t change anything. It isn’t safe for Ladybug and I to know each other’s identities right now. If that means I have to raise Marin alone, then so be it.”
Plagg coughed. “Marin?”
Adrien smiled. “It’s just an idea. I want my baby to grow up with the kind of support network I didn’t get. I was thinking of asking Marinette to be her godmother. Is that weird?”
When Plagg spoke again, it was muffled by his pillow. “No, that’s very sweet.”
Adrien went back to humming and caressing himself. He was still surprised by how much he loved being pregnant. After a lifetime of pressure to diet, exercise and maintain the perfect masculine physique, it was lovely, healing even, to watch his body soften and swell. Even his pecs were budding into small, sensitive breasts. With any luck, he’d be able to breastfeed. For now, even lightly touching his puffy, swollen nipples was enough to make Adrien moan and rub his feet together like a cricket.
Pleasure was different now, and much more intense. He’d brought himself to several quaking, screaming orgasms with his detachable showerhead, but the new size of his stomach made masturbation difficult. Even with his new lack of supervision, Adrien didn’t dare order a vibrator. He certainly couldn’t be seen walking into a sex shop. The tabloids would eat him alive. So Adrien ground against pillows and the corner of the mattress and dreamed.
“It’s not fair that I never got to feel her cock,” he said abruptly.
Plagg groaned. “I’m not discussing this with you.”
“Sorry,” said Adrien, but he couldn’t bring himself to be truly embarrassed.
By the time he’d grown desperate enough to consider using a hairbrush or marker as a makeshift dildo, his stomach was too large to experiment. Maybe Plagg was right about the twin possibility. Adrien was pregnant, but he was a virgin, one who grew hornier with each day that passed. No doubt the magic-induced pregnancy hormones were playing a role.
“Look, kid,” Plagg said after a long pause, during which Adrien tweaked his sensitive nipples until his eyes rolled back in his head. “If you won’t tell Ladybug about this, why not tell someone else? You need someone better than me to talk to.” Under his breath, he added, “Or at least someone to fuck.”
Adrien considered this as he violently humped his pillow. “You have a point,” he said at last. “Plagg, claws out!”
Chat Noir’s suit now came with subtle padding and support to protect his precious cargo. Plagg had assured him that the baby, or babies, wouldn’t be permanently hurt by anything he did in superhero form, but Chat Noir still moved carefully and cradled his stomach as he crossed the city.
His good friend Marinette was the obvious choice, and dropping onto her balcony felt as natural as breathing, even with the extra weight. Chat Noir knocked with bated breath.
Marinette, sleep-tousled and pajama-clad, pushed the trapdoor open two minutes later. “Chat Noir! You woke me up.” She rubbed her eyes. “Come on in. What’s going on?”
Now that the moment was here, Chat Noir had no idea what to say. “I need a bit of help,” he said at last, resting a protective hand on his rounded stomach. “I trust you, Marinette, but I need to know. Can you keep a secret?”
Marinette’s eyes widened. She looked from Chat Noir’s face to his stomach and back again. “What kind of secret?”
Being so near his good friend Marinette was making the pulse of need between Chat Noir’s legs worse. How long had it been since anyone had touched him? He’d rehearsed what to say, but the words came out jumbled.
“I need something—someone—inside me,” Chat Noir explained, shifting from foot to foot. He could feel his heartbeat in his clit, and the baby was restless again. “It’s important. I… Please. We’ll cut a hole in my suit, or I’ll wear a mask, or…”
Marinette turned away, and for a moment Chat Noir was scared she was rejecting him. Then he saw that she was sorting through her craft supplies. “Masks I can do. I’ve been working on a new lineup for Kitty Section, my friends’ band. But Chat Noir, are you…” She trailed off.
“Yes. I’m pregnant,” said Chat Noir. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it aloud, but somehow this time felt the most official. “You and my kwami are the only ones who know.” He spread his hands, suddenly feeling awkward. “I’m so sorry to impose. I just can’t reach anymore, and the hormones are starting to drive me a little crazy.”
“I get it.” Marinette took his hand. “This doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’s just a little favor between friends.”
This was how Adrien ended up splayed out on the chaise lounge, naked except for his socks and his own Kitty Section mask, while Marinette pounded into him with a strap-on harness she’d hastily assembled from fabric scraps. Between Adrien’s stomach and their inexperience, it had taken a few tries to get the angles right.
“How does it feel?” Marinette panted. Sweat dripped down her brow. “Better?”
“Much,” Adrien assured her. “Hard to talk.” He arched his back as Marinette’s next thrust made a spot inside him sing with sensation.
“Hold still,” Marinette admonished him, reaching forward to grab his puffy chest for balance.
Adrien couldn’t hold back a howl. “S-sensitive.”
“Oh?” Marinette licked a fingertip and circled one of Adrien’s nipples with it. He wailed. “Good boy. Such a good kitty.”
Her thrusts picked up speed. Now they consistently pressed against the spot that made Adrien’s nervous system feel like a fireworks display. “Close,” Adrien managed a moment later. It was hard to speak at a normal volume, much less coherently.
She smirked. “Good. You’ll feel better when you come.”
What followed wasn’t Adrien’s first orgasm with his new equipment, but it was by far the most intense. He covered his mouth, muffling his scream of pleasure. Finally, his body seemed to say. Finally, finally, finally.
Across town, a man dressed all in white looked up from his work as his miraculous detected a sudden pulse of intense emotion. Transforming in the blink of an eye, Monarch concentrated, chasing the emotion. The emotion was too positive to be of use to him, but its strength… Ignoring wave after wave of breakups, makeups, and new beginnings, Monarch pursued the thread of emotion back to its source, letting it unspool in his mind’s eye.
“I’m so glad I have my good friend Marinette to help me with the stress of this pregnancy,” said his son’s voice in his head.
Gabriel dropped his transformation. He sat down, slowly. “My son? Pregnant?” It couldn’t be. Could it?
Alone in his opulent, sterile atelier, Gabriel Agreste held his head in his hands, his thoughts awash with new, terrifying possibilities.