WARNINGS:
Implied Gabriel is a terrible father
Implied child abuse
Implied bad relationship with food

Hi all! Welcome to #FeedAdrien2k20, in which Adrien gets a good meal.
Shipping Adrien with spaghetti, but implied Adrienette, dw.

Also so I learned today that spaghetti has a "h" in it, only after writing this whole thing, so the editing was crazy... TIL

Enjoy!

Adrien slammed the door closed, and leant against it with a sigh.

'Welcome to-ah, Adrien?' Came the tall, broad, moustached person from behind the counter, of whom Adrien had to take a moment to recognise as Marinette's father. 'Are you alright?'

'Oh, uh,' Adrien could feel the gaze of the people pressed up against the door on the other side, eager for a moment to get in. 'Hi, Mr. Dupain. Uh, is, Marinette in?' An awkward grin was spreading across his face.

'No, she's not, but why don't you go ahead and lock that anyway.' Tom Dupain smiled back. 'Come in and have a pastry, you must be out on your lunch break.'

'Yes, it is.' He fumbled behind him for a moment, and heard a click far more satisfying than it should have been. Tom was approaching him, and reached an arm past him to flip the sign over to "closed". 'I don't want to trouble you though,'

'Never you worry about that.' Tom stretched theatrically, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. 'I think it's time we stopped for lunch. Come in, come in, though.'

'Oh, I couldn't possibly,' Adrien raised his hands in surrender, but was half frogmarched behind the counter with one massive hand. 'I mean, if you're sure,'

'Don't you stress. Any friend of Marinette's is welcome here,' Tom grinned. 'Especially you.' He looked down at him. 'What you need is a good feeding, and I've been thinking about that bolognese for lunch all morning. Come, come,'

Marinette's mother stuck her head out the door as they passed down the hallway. 'Oh?' She looked back down towards the empty store, where the last reporter was disappointedly turning away from the window. 'Someone for lunch, dear?'

'Of course! Marinette said she might pop by later, and I couldn't just leave him waiting.'

'I really don't want to be a bother,' Adrien said, but his eyes were already leaning towards the kitchen. 'If I could just wait a few minutes before the reporters move on then-'

'Oh! Nonsense!' Sabine made to follow them out of the preparation room, dusting her floured hands together. 'I'd just set this afternoon's dough to rest, plenty of time for lunch.' She paused, and looked up at her husband. 'You were wanting to make the spaghetti before we ate, I have the dough ready for it when you are. Shall I get it?' She was already disappearing again, without waiting for a response.

Adrien opened his mouth to protest, but then paused, 'what, the dough? You're making the pasta yourself? Isn't that hard?'

'No, dear boy! Come on, you can make it with me and earn your lunch. It won't take five minutes.'

Adrien looked down at his hands. 'Um, I'm not really supposed to be eating carbs,'

Tom paused, as did Sabine as she reappeared in the doorway, a covered bowl in her hands. 'Is it an allergy? I'm sure we can-'

'Oh! No, no, um, there's a photoshoot-'

Tom waved his words away, before plucking at Adrien's wrist. 'Look at you! Skin and bones, I could use your arms to have some of my darling Sabine's delicious, delicious rice. Come, come, I can show you how to make spaghetti, the way my mother did, and you can grow up big and strong like me.' He flexed with a grin.

'I'm not sure anyone could,' Sabine smiled back. 'But let's not stand in the hall and just get on with it.' She pressed the bowl into Tom's hands, and shooed them into the kitchen.

Once there Tom had the dough from the bowl and onto a floured section of counter with a rolling pin, faster and smoother than Adrien could blink. 'See? First we make the dough nice and flat so it can fit through the slicer. Here, you want a go?'

Adrien could only stare as the rolling pin was pushed into his hands.

'Don't make the boy work if he doesn't want to,' Sabine chided gently from another counter. She had taken an onion out, and was preparing to dice it finely.

'He said he wanted to learn!' Tom shrugged with a smile.

'I do actually want to learn, if it's alright,' Adrien said, pressing the rolling pin to the dough and started to roll it out.

'Gently, gently, Adrien, you don't need to put so much force into it,' Tom's hands covered his own, and demonstrated the right pressure, just enough to start to flatten, but not enough to risk the dough separating. 'If you're not gentle it'll come out all lumpy.'

'Oh, sorry,' his eyes were downcast. 'I didn't know,'

'Not to worry!' Tom pressed a hand to his shoulder and squeezed. 'Who knew you had the strength?' He laughed. 'We'll make a baker out of you yet! Now keep at it, and I'll get the pasta-maker out.'

Adrien nodded, relieved to not be yelled at, and was absorbed in his work for only what felt like a moment before Tom called out to him, getting his attention, to see a large, silver contraption sitting out on the dining table, set up and ready to go.

'Does that make the pasta?' He questioned, still slightly startled.

'Son, you're making the pasta. This guy just helps us along.' He laughed, slicing a section of Adrien's dough and taking it over. 'You should have seen when I brought this thing home, I thought my parents would have a conniption! Now, I need you to put your hands underneath and catch the dough as I feed it through.' He gestured as he did so, then started feeding the dough through the machine. '"Tom Dupain, what is this monstrosity technology you've brought into our home?"' Tom's voice went deeper, like his fathers, not that Tom knew Adrien had met the man. 'Dad, it's a pasta machine, so we don't have to take a whole day to cut the pasta ourselves.' Tom was laughing as he recounted the story, but the hair was standing up on the back of Adrien's neck.

'Tom, dear,' Sabine said from her vantage in the kitchen, 'Don't talk the boy's ear off. Adrien, why don't you tell us about school? Do you have that literature assignment like Marinette does?'

Adrien startled slightly at being addressed, and blinked up at her. 'Uh, yes, I do. I've sort of, finished it? But I need to go back and polish it some more, I think. It needs to be better.'

'If you have a minute, maybe you and Marinette could work on it together here some time.' Sabine smiled.

'Oh? Excellent idea!' Tom grinned, starting another round of feeding the dough. 'I'll bet she hasn't started it yet, and I have another opportunity to feed you. You'll have to tell me what some of your favourite foods are, son.'

'Oh, I, guess I just eat whatever's put in front of me,' Adrien shuffled. 'I don't really have anything I don't like, I don't think. But there's things I'm not supposed to have,' Adrien's eyes were like saucers as Tom flicked a switch on the machine, and with the next feed through, real, recognisable spaghetti started pouring out.

Tom looked between Adrien and the pasta in his hands. 'Well, I think what your parents know won't hurt them. Am I right, dearest?'

There was a glint in Sabine's eye. 'Not in the slightest. Now, you boys hurry up with that spaghetti, or I'll beat you with this sauce!' She teased.

'Oh, is it a competition you want?' Tom grinned back, snatching up the next lump of dough. 'I'll have you this time, now that I have Adrien here with me! You'll never caramelise those onions in time!'

'I'll be getting out the measuring ruler to make sure your spaghetti is nice and even!' Sabine bantered right back.

Adrien was looking between them with a smile, reminded of his banter with Ladybug, but there was almost a wistful twist in his chest.

But there was hardly a moment for it, for with the terms set, the three worked hard to have their half on the table first, a gentle jab passing through the air as each progressed.

So it felt like only a minute later when the whole lot was mixed together on a large ceramic container, and Sabine was setting a place for Adrien next to her.

'I still swear we beat you!' Tom was laughing. 'How did you manage to get everything together so quickly?'

'A mother never tells,' Sabine relied coyly, setting a pasta bowl down in front of him and a peck on his cheek. 'Marinette also said she might be stopping past quickly, so I've set a place for her in case she comes. But you help yourself to as much as you like,' she directed to Adrien, who had opened his mouth to protest. 'There's plenty, even for as much as this family eats.'

'What are you saying, I eat like a bird!' Tom laughed, heaping a massive portion of spaghetti onto his plate. 'Like the smallest sparrow, that's me. Here, let me serve you, son,' Adrien's further protests were ignored as Tom heaped another large portion onto his plate. 'And you'll be getting seconds, don't you worry about that. Dear, do we have any garlic bread? That would just go perfectly,'

'I knew you'd ask, so I slipped some in the oven when you weren't looking,' Sabine grinned, already turning for the kitchen.

'You're an angel, the sweetest angel,' Tom called after her, 'the most beautiful, wonderful angel to ever grace my life...'

'So what does that make Marinette?' Sabine teased from the kitchen, soon returning with a tray of steaming bread that had Adrien's mouth-watering at the sight of it.

'Simple! My sweetest daughter, and my sweetest Sabine. Both wonderful, amazing ladies to have in my life, especially when they bring me surprise garlic bread. Don't you think, Adrien?' He elbowed the boy gently, who ducked his head, flushing slightly.

'Surprise garlic bread is very high on my not-supposed-to list,' he admitted, but was already reaching for it as Sabine set it on the table. 'I'll just try not to explode, I guess.'

'That's the spirit!' Tom grinned. 'I say that every time I sit down to my beautiful wife's cooking. Speaking of which,' he took a massive mouthful of spaghetti, and let out a delighted noise around it.

Sabine's eyes were on the model child instead as she sat, who had hungrily sunk his teeth into a slice of the bread and paused, his eyes somehow widening even more, before hastily shovelling the rest in in only a few bites.

'S-sorry,' he managed, hiding his crumbed face with his hands, and Tom grinned at him with a moustache full of sauce.

'Don't you worry, you just eat up. I'm not letting you leave until you have spaghetti coming out of your ears.'

Sabine had finished serving a place for Marinette, and was finishing serving herself. 'Precisely. We'll be eating this for the next few days unless you help, so go ahead.'

Adrien carefully twirled a mouthful of spaghetti onto a fork and took the bite, before the corners of his mouth turned painfully down.

Sabine paused a moment, before asking, 'is everything alright?'

Adrien ducked his head. 'No, no, it's fine, it's delicious,' he managed. 'It's a little hot,'

There was a noise from the other room, and Tom stood, forkful in hand. 'That'll be Marinette. I'll try to catch her before she comes in.' He took the forkful with him, not before mussing Adrien's hair affectionately as he went past. 'Don't you worry.'

'I-it's nothing,' Adrien said in a tiny voice, as Tom closed the door behind him gently.

'Dear,' Sabine started, 'it's alright. We've been wanting to do something like this for a while.' She looked at him for a moment. 'Would you like a tissue?'

'...yes please,' Adrien managed in yet a tinier voice. 'It's just,'

She passed him the box while he collected his words.

'I-it's just, this is the first time I-I've had carbs in about f-four months.' He took a shaky breath. 'I r-really am sorry, it's truly delicious, I-I shouldn't,'

'Just take your time. There's no pressure.' Sabine reached for his -slender, skinny, malnourished- hand and squeezed it. 'You're doing just fine.'

He raised another bite to his lips and took it, a tear escaping down his cheek, quickly followed by another. He was trying to hide it, but had neither hand free.

'There you go, would you like me to invite Marinette in? Or shall I send her and Alya a packed lunch?'

'I-I don't want to be a bother,' he flapped a fork at her half-heartedly.

She took in his face for a moment. 'Alright, packed lunch.' She seemed to materialise a container out of thin air, and started serving it. 'She should work on her literature assignment, at least.' She smiled warmly at him. 'But the trade is, is that you have to come back more often so we can feed you properly.'

'I-I don't know if I can,'

'Whenever you can. Whenever you're free. You're always welcome.' She raised a wry eyebrow at him. 'I'm sure Marinette would love that too.' She took the container and stood, smiled, and moved towards the door as well.

There was a pause after Sabine closed the door, and Plagg appeared out of his pocket, already with a slice of garlic bread in tiny hand.

'You doing alright, kid?'

'H-how can they be so nice to me?' Adrien said, looking down at his still-massive plate.

'Because you deserve this. And you need it, you haven't been healthy lately. So hurry up, before I get to it.' Plagg sat pointedly at the edge of his plate, and Adrien hastily scooped a forkful away from him. 'They're good people, Adrien. That's why I suggested we hide in here.'

'You knew this would happen?' Adrien managed around his mouthful.

'Well, pretty much. I've seen the way these two look at you, whenever you've come in with your girlfriend and the others.'

Adrien moved to poke the kwami. 'Not my girlfriend.'

'Less talking, more eating.' Plagg looked pointedly at the plate. 'Go on,'

Adrien didn't need any other hints, and took to the plate with the gusto that the privacy allowed, that even Chat Noir would have laughed at.

After a while Plagg disappeared a moment before the Dupain-Cheng's re-entered, laughing about something Marinette had said, and Tom looked at Adrien's plate admiringly.

'Look at that! I'll admit, my boy, that even I was worried about you getting through that, but you'll have to have those seconds after all!' He grinned, digging back into his half-emptied plate. 'You'll be matching me, soon enough!'

'I think I'm about to explode,' Adrien admitted, his perfect posture gone as he leant back in his chair, clutching his stomach, his face still slightly puffy.

'Aha! That means it's time for dessert.' Tom grinned. 'But you'll take some spaghetti with you, won't you?'

'I-if my father sees it, I'll,' Adrien's heart was already sinking through his overfull stomach.

'Nevermind,' Sabine said firmly. 'Next time we'll make something that can stick to your bones a bit more, you'll just have to make sure to hurry up and come back soon.'

Adrien half-smiled at her. 'Are you sure? I mean, I don't really know when that'll be,'

'Rubbish.' Tom waved a fork at him. 'If you turn up we'll feed you, no questions asked. If you need to hide from those pesky reporters again, you come right back here and we'll have the garlic bread waiting.' He shrugged. 'I've got Italian in my blood. No person I know is going to be hungry, or else I'd die of shame.'

'I'm sure that's a bit exaggerated,' Sabine smiled at him, a fork half-raised to her lips.

'No!' But precisely why this was not the case was lost through several mouthfuls of pasta.

'A-alright,' Adrien managed. 'But isn't it strange to turn up at someone else's house like that without Marinette?'

'Easy. Bring her too.' Tom grinned conspiratorially at him. 'I wouldn't mind having a spaghetti whiz like you in the family.'

'Tom!' Sabine gently chided, but Adrien's face flushed slightly.

Wait, why was he blushing? Ladybug was the girl for him, not-

'Marinette would be just as delighted to have you here as we would. I know for a fact.' Tom continued grinning, in much the same way Plagg did at him sometimes when Adrien talked about the girl in question. 'I've got lots more things to feed you.'

Adrien didn't have any doubt about that.

'I'll see what I can do,' he said instead.

The couple grinned at each other knowingly.

When Adrien of all people had asked to come back to her bakery for lunch later that week, Marinette nearly died on the spot.

But later that month, no-one could deny how much better he looked, how much more life he had in him, only comparable to Chat Noir's sudden upswing in weight and vitality, neither of the two having visible cheekbones anymore, and the beginnings of proper bulk that Marinette could only breathe a sight of relief at.

None moreso than he himself.

Tom: Oh you've never made spaghetti before?
Tom: This is your first decent meal in HOW LONG?
Tom: SABINE! GET THE ADOPTION PAPERS RIGHT NOW
Sabine: I already filled them out while you were bonding, he's ours now