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The smell of pancakes was already drifting through the Dupain-Cheng-Agreste apartment when Marinette shuffled into the kitchen. Her hair was still a battlefield from sleep, and she cradled her coffee mug like it was the only thing tethering her to the mortal realm.
Across the room, Adrien stood at the stove in sweatpants and an old “Model Citizens” charity T-shirt, flipping a pancake with the casual precision of a man who’d once fought akumas for a living. At his feet, Hugo and Louis were in the middle of a wrestling match over who got the first pancake, still in their superhero pajama sets from the night before.
“I said first pancake is mine!” Hugo yelled, shoving at his little brother’s shoulder.
“You had first pancake last time!” Louis countered, attempting a sneak move under Hugo’s arm.
Adrien didn’t even look down. “Boys, you both get pancakes. Pancakes are infinite. Pancake peace treaty, please.”
That lasted all of four seconds before they were back to rolling around on the floor like feral raccoons.
Marinette took a sip of coffee, eyes scanning the scene: her husband in the kitchen, her boys in full chaos mode, the warm smell of breakfast filling the air. She sighed.
“It’s missing something…”
Adrien glanced over his shoulder. “More cinnamon? I can—”
“No.” She stared into the middle distance, like a war general plotting her next move. “A baby girl.”
The spatula froze mid-air.
Adrien turned slowly. “I’m sorry… what?”
“You heard me,” Marinette said, perching at the counter. “We have two wonderful boys. I love them. But I think… it’s time.”
Adrien blinked. “Time for…?”
“A daughter, Adrien. Girls are calmer—”
Adrien raised an eyebrow. “You? Calm?”
Marinette waved that off. “—and we can finally use all the pink and glitter I’ve been suppressing for the last six years.”
Adrien’s mouth twitched. “So, what you’re telling me is… the boys were just trial runs?”
“They were wonderful trial runs.” She smiled sweetly. “But now I want my little fashion model.”
“Ah. I see. You don’t want another child, you want a miniature mannequin.”
“I can love both.”
From the floor, Hugo froze mid-headlock on Louis. “Wait… are we getting a puppy?”
Louis perked up. “YES. We need a puppy.”
“No!” Marinette snapped before Adrien could open his mouth. “We are not getting a puppy. We are getting a baby.”
The boys exchanged a long, horrified look.
Adrien folded his arms, leaning against the counter. “You know we can’t… exactly guarantee a girl, right?”
Marinette’s expression turned dramatic, almost offended. “Leave that to me.”
That was when Adrien noticed the corkboard propped against the wall. It was covered in pastel sticky notes, pictures of baby clothes, and swatches of blush pink fabric.
“…Is that a vision board?”
“It’s called manifesting, Adrien.”
Hugo squinted at it. “Why is there a picture of a crown?”
“Because,” Marinette said firmly, “she will be my princess.”
Adrien just sighed, flipping another pancake. “Well, sounds like Operation: Baby Girl has begun.”
Marinette beamed.
The boys groaned.
And Adrien couldn’t quite decide if he should be amused… or very, very afraid.
...
By Monday morning, Adrien was beginning to suspect that Marinette’s “Operation: Baby Girl” had escalated into something far more elaborate.
First clue: the spare room—formerly a very functional storage space—was now painted a soft blush pink. Not a pale beige, not a gentle cream, but blush pink.
“Didn’t this room used to be… blue?” Adrien asked, standing in the doorway with his coffee.
Marinette didn’t look up from her paint roller. “New energy. Girls like pink energy.”
Second clue: when Adrien left for work, he found a baby name book tucked neatly into his laptop bag. “Just for browsing,” Marinette had said innocently.
Third clue: he came home to “Lullabies for Baby Girls” softly playing from the living room speakers.
By Tuesday, Marinette decided she needed reinforcements. She called Alya.
Alya, naturally, didn’t even hesitate. “Easy. Eat more strawberries. Works every time.”
Marinette blinked. “Every time… for what?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just trust me.”
"How often?"
Alya smirked. "Whenever you can."
Next was Rose, who gasped so loudly Marinette had to pull the phone away from her ear. “Oh my gosh, you HAVE to sleep with your head pointing north. North means nurturing energy!”
“North,” Marinette repeated, already pulling out her compass app.
Juleka’s contribution was quieter but no less strange: “You should only wear dresses for a month. Girls bring feminine energy. You have to match it.”
Marinette wrote all of this down like it was sacred scripture.
By Friday night, she was trying them all at once.
Adrien walked into their bedroom, stopped dead in the doorway, and blinked.
Marinette was perched on the wrong end of the bed, wearing a frilly pink sundress, eating strawberries straight from the bowl.
“…Are you lost?” Adrien asked carefully.
“No,” she said through a mouthful of fruit. “I’m aligning my aura.”
Adrien bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Is your aura… upside down?”
She glared. “You’re mocking the process.”
He crossed the room, kissed the top of her head, and whispered, “Yes. Yes, I am.”
That was when Hugo and Louis burst in.
“We want a baby sister too!” Hugo declared. “So we can boss her around!”
Louis shoved a doll into Adrien’s hands. “Here. Practice.”
Adrien held the doll gingerly. “She’s… very quiet.”
“That’s because she’s a girl,” Hugo said matter-of-factly.
Later that week, Adrien—still amused—decided to join the madness. Without telling Marinette, he started eating strawberries at breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
“Why are you eating so many strawberries?” she asked, suspicious.
“Teamwork,” he said with a smirk.
By the end of the night, Marinette was convinced the plan was working. Adrien was convinced he’d never stop laughing.
...
By Sunday night, Marinette had come to a conclusion: science and superstition weren’t enough. If she wanted a baby girl, she was going to have to… seal the deal.
And by “seal the deal,” she meant seduce her husband.
Easier said than done when you had two small boys with the stealth skills of ninjas and the timing of evil masterminds.
Attempt #1: Candlelit Dinner
She went all out—soft music, dim lighting, pasta on the table, even a dress that made Adrien pause in the doorway with an appreciative “wow.”
“This is nice,” he said, sliding into his chair.
“Just us,” she smiled, handing him his plate. “No interruptions.”
Cue: Hugo’s scream from the kitchen. “MOM! Louis’S GOT SPAGHETTI IN HIS HAIR!”
Adrien raised an eyebrow. “Should we…?”
Marinette’s shoulders sagged. “Yes. We should.”
By the time Louis was cleaned up and the kitchen disaster was contained, the pasta was cold and Adrien was cheerfully reheating it in the microwave. Not exactly the romantic vibe she’d envisioned.
...
Attempt #2: Surprise Office Visit
The next day, Marinette slipped into Adrien’s office wearing a perfectly chosen dress—one that whispered I’m not here to talk about paperwork.
She leaned against his desk. “Hey, handsome.”
“Uh—” came a voice that was not Adrien’s.
Marinette spun around to see Nino in the doorway, holding two coffees and looking far too entertained.
“Adrien’s in the meeting room,” he said, sipping his drink. “But please—don’t let me interrupt whatever… this is.”
She could feel her ears turning red.
...
Attempt #3: Late-Night Ambush
It was finally perfect. The boys were asleep. The house was quiet. Marinette leaned into Adrien on the couch, her fingers brushing his collar.
“I want you to…” she began, then promptly tripped over her own tongue. “…um… impregnate— I mean, your genes are… attractive?”
Adrien froze. “Wow. That’s… a sentence.”
Before she could recover, the fire alarm started blaring.
They rushed to the kitchen to find Hugo standing on a chair, holding a baking tray with what looked suspiciously like charcoal.
“I wanted to make cookies like Daddy!” Hugo beamed.
Adrien whispered to Marinette, “Your seduction skills are terrifyingly effective—look, you’ve got three people in love with you.”
...
The 3 A.M. Curse
Even on nights where things were almost going their way, the boys had a knack for appearing. One moment Adrien would be kissing her neck, the next—thud—two small bodies would be climbing into bed.
“Night, Mommy. Night, Daddy.” Hugo yawned, snuggling into her side.
Adrien chuckled into her hair. “Operation Baby Girl may require… a tactical retreat.”
Marinette groaned. “Operation Baby Girl requires a lock on our door.”
Underneath all the interruptions, though, Adrien was starting to melt. The way Marinette kept trying—awkward, hilarious, utterly determined—was too adorable for him to resist. And maybe… just maybe… she was starting to win.
...
For weeks, Marinette had thrown everything—romance, superstition, and sheer stubbornness—into Operation: Baby Girl. But now…
Now she was slumped on the couch in her sweats, hair in a messy bun, surrounded by abandoned baby name books and half-empty bowls of strawberries.
“I’m a failure,” she groaned into a pillow. “I can’t even seduce my own husband.”
Adrien poked his head in from the kitchen. “Princess, you’ve been trying to seduce me for a month straight. I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of failure.”
She peeked up at him, cheeks pink. “I just… wanted this so badly. I wanted her. I can see her in my head—tiny pigtails, little dresses, drawing with her brothers…”
Adrien crossed the room, kneeling beside her. “Girl or boy,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “I just want more of us in the world.”
Her heart melted. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You married ridiculous,” he reminded her. Then he kissed her, slow and deep.
“Ew, gross!” came Hugo’s voice. Both boys stood in the doorway, making gagging noises.
Adrien didn’t stop kissing her—he just made sure to dramatically dip her so the boys really squealed.
...
Three Months Later
Marinette sat on the bathroom floor, staring at the pregnancy test in her hand. Positive.
“AAAADRIENNNN!”
He appeared in the doorway, half-dressed, toothbrush still in his mouth. She held up the test. His eyes went wide, and then he scooped her into a hug so tight she almost dropped it.
The next half-hour was a blur of cheering, calling Alya, Nino, and the boys running around screaming, “We’re getting a sister!” despite no one knowing the gender yet.
Within a day, Hugo and Louis were painting the nursery—again—this time covering the walls in pink clouds, sparkly stars, and something that might have been a unicorn if you squinted. They also proudly wore their new matching “Big Brother” shirts, which Marinette suspected Alya had pre-bought weeks ago.
...
Nine Months Later
The delivery room was buzzing. Marinette was exhausted but beaming as the doctor placed a swaddled bundle in her arms.
Adrien leaned over, smiling so wide his eyes crinkled. “…She’s perfect.”
The doctor cleared his throat gently. “…He is.”
Marinette froze. “WHAT?!”
Adrien bit his lip to keep from laughing, leaning down to whisper, “Called it.”
She glared at him. “Don’t get comfortable, Agreste. Operation: Baby Girl 2.0 starts tomorrow.”
From the corner, Hugo and Louis were already high-fiving each other. “Yes! Another brother to boss around!”
"We should name him Burt!"
Adrien just grinned, kissing her temple. “At this rate, we’re going to need a bigger apartment.”