All your fault
Adrien woke up to the sound of his wife hurling her guts out in the bathroom. How she'd even managed to untangle herself from his arms without waking him up was a feat in itself.
He yawned, tossing back the duvet before he made his way into their on-suite.
Sure enough Marinette was clinging to the toilet bowl.
Adrien crouched down beside her, tenderly brushing tendrils of her vomit encrusted hair out of her face with a gentle smile, ignoring the nauseating stench of bile that drifted from the toilet.
"Hey Princess," he murmured, rubbing his wife's shoulders as she curled around the basin whimpering miserably.
"This is your fault, you stupid cat," she grumbled once she was sure that she'd expelled the majority of last night's dinner down the toilet.
Adrien raised an eyebrow, "My fault Milady?"
Marinette nodded as she leaned into his chest. She was feverish and smelt of vomit but he still pressed gentle kisses over her hair and forehead.
"You're the one who got me pregnant," she murmured as he stroked her back.
He laughed good-heartedly as he glanced down at her swollen abdomen, "Okay you got me there."