Good news! It seems writing on my phone is less painful than an actual keyboard for my hand (which I ripped open again today. yay! According to my pharmacist the cut would've needed stitches, but it's too late now. Oopsies!)

I intended to finish the fic for Christmas, but I think it's more realistic to finish it for New Year! (hopefully)

It was a scene so common in Marinette's apartment that it almost felt domestic.

Tom was looking utterly ridiculous hunched into his daughter's very pink armchair, the burly man desperately clutching at his controller for dear life as he was kicking Nino's butt yet again at Ultimate Mecha Strike. The young DJ was himself sitting on the floor by his wife's feet, groaning loudly as his defeat was made official on the screen. Sabine and Alya were sitting side by side on the couch, chatting quietly among themselves, only interrupting their discussion to participate in their husbands' playful banter. A recent addition to their weekly gatherings, Adrien was perched upon a bar stool at Marinette's kitchen counter, effectively playing the role of a bridge between the busy hostess and her guests, relaying jokes, game scores, and conversation as he watched her cook with barely concealed awe. Over the course of the last few weeks, they had more often than not taken advantage of Adrien's upper-end kitchen and spacious living room, but since that night was special, her boyfriend had insisted that they invited everyone at her place instead. For old times' sake. Smiling to herself as she listened to the people she loved the most in the world getting along so well, Marinette focused on the fuming pasta sauce she was making, stirring it a little and adding a pinch of spices to enhance the flavors.

A very familiar scene indeed, which she was quite fond of.

What was uncommon, though, a first occurrence, to be honest, was the third knock of the night dryly laid on her front door and Adrien's slender body unfolding itself from the barstool to go and greet the unusual addition to their weekly dinners. Marinette watched with a knowing smirk as every single head in the room turned toward the door with matching questioning glances. Even the deathmatch on the screen laid forgotten by the boys, everyone waiting eagerly for Adrien to open the door.

Casting a smirk of his own toward her, the blond slowly opened the door, greeting the tall and slim man waiting on the other side of the panel with a genuine smile:
"Evening, father. I'm glad you could make it."
The fashion mogul quirked an eyebrow as he stepped into the room, closely followed by his everlasting assistant, Natalie.
"Well, you did mention it was important."
Chuckling softly, Marinette heard her lover stammer a weak excuse as she wiped her fingers on her apron, joining them in the livingroom:
"Evening, Mr. Agreste, Natalie. Dinner's almost ready if you want to take a seat."
She could almost feel Alya and her mother's curious glances drilling a hole in the back of her head. Adrien's father sudden appearance was odd enough in itself, but she had just made it quite clear that she had actually been expecting him and had purposely kept it a secret. The young lady knew very well that both women were more than likely stewing with pressing questions at the moment. Questions they couldn't ask because her boyfriend ever so conveniently asked everyone to seat themselves as well.

Part of her sincerely hoped that their guests wouldn't pay too much attention to Adrien's odd behavior, seeing as he wasn't being anywhere subtle. He kept looking at her left hand every now and then, smiling at her broadly without any real reason. If he kept acting like that, it wouldn't be long before anyone noticed the white golden ring on her finger, blowing up the official announcement the blond himself had insisted upon. Even now, as he was pouring glasses of wine for their now-seated families, he kept casting subdued glances at her, eyeing her stomach with a small knowing smile. She smiled back, perfectly aware that her fiancé was almost jumping out of his skin with nervousness.

As she was gathering enough plates and cutlery for everyone, Marinette's gaze fell on the real estate brochure she and Adrien had been going through before her parents' arrival. Granted, they'd been looking for less than a day, but she was already growing annoyed with the house hunting. Adrien was basically useless, his only criterions being two or more bedrooms and having somewhere to park his car. He was stubbornly refusing to provide anything looking anywhere near to a budget or even a gross preference for the location, stating that as long as he was with her he'd be happy. That was cute as hell if she looked at it with her heart, but her head found the young man's attitude not useful at all. Marinette herself had a marked preference for a house over an apartment but wasn't too keen on leaving the area they were currently living in which badly restricted their choices. Nonetheless, she couldn't shake the idea that a child should have a backyard to play into, hence why they have been looking for houses to visit up until the second her parents had arrived.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the very man of her dreams taking the pile of plates from her hands and planting a quick peck on her lips.
"Coming princess?"
Marinette beamed at him, taking the fuming pot of pasta and following him to the table. Depositing it in the middle so everyone would be able to reach it, she sat between her mother and Adrien, noticing with delight that everyone was casually chatting. Gabriel and her parents were engaged in a deep conversation about the perks and the struggles of managing an enterprise, while Alya and Natalie were absorbed in a debate about the best ways of handling media. Nino, on the other hand, was seemingly absorbed into the content of his plate. The blackette helped herself to a serving of pasta and was about to take the first bite when her friend suddenly jumped out of his seat, losing his cool:
"Okay lovebirds, there's something up. What is this really about?"

Marinette had to give Nino some credit, he took her by surprise. She had fully expected Alya to bring the subject up, or even her mom in her more subtle ways. But it was pretty clear that her best friend's husband wasn't dealing that well with being kept in the dark. A quick glance on her right brought her the reassurance that Adrien and she were on the same page, and they both got up, the young man clearing his throat.
"Yeah, well, we asked you to come tonight because we have an announcement to make."
All of their guests' eyes widened as they understood where this was headed:
"Yesterday evening, I asked Marinette to become my wife."
"Of course, I agreed." chimed in the young lady.

To say chaos ensued would be quite an understatement.

They were suddenly caught in a storm of hugs, kisses, and heartfelt congratulations. Marinette even caught from the corner of her eye Gabriel awkwardly embracing his son and softly patting him on the back, pointing to her hand with obvious pride. After all the squeals, the victorious shouts, and the laughs had faded, they all sat back down to resume eating, grins spread wide on every face around the table. Alya was jumping in her seat, barely able to contain her excitement:
"I can't believe it! Have you settled on a date yet? Which apartment are you going to keep? I can give you the contact info of the guy that made our invitations, his work was really rad and-"
Marinette cleared her throat slightly:
"We're keeping neither of our apartments, we're searching for something that will be ours. And we actually have settled on a date, and we more than likely won't have time for printed invitations."
Her best friend snorted in disbelief:
"Come on Mari, we had two weeks to organize everything and… OH." the brunette trailed off, suddenly understanding the implications of what her best friend had said.
"When is the wedding?" warily asked Nino. Adrien's face flushed bright red, as he mumbled almost unintelligibly:
"Sunday."

This time, it was Tom's turn to intervene:
"I'm sorry, what? I must have misheard you, son."
The blackette put her hand on Adrien's arm, smiling at her dad lovingly:
"You heard right, dad. Adrien wants us husband and wife before the end of the week."
On the other side of the table, Nino looked utterly betrayed:
"DUDE! To think you had the nerve to tell me two weeks to organize a wedding was suicidal!"
"I know."
To his credit, Adrien looked utterly sheepish, having no real reason to offer to explain the rushed ceremony. Chuckling, Marinette came to his rescue:
"Apparently, my fiancé is a very eager little thing. And he is incredibly stubborn when he sets his mind on something."
Humming pensively as he took a gulp of wine, Gabriel's deeper voice wondered out loud:
"I wonder where he got that from."
Poor Natalie choked on her pasta hearing those words from her boss, earning herself a concerned look from some of oblivious the guests present that night and a rather amused one from the perceptive others.

The rest of the meal was spent agreeably, as actually a lot of the wedding planning was made around that table. Ever so eager to help as much as she could, Alya offered to take care of the reservation of the venue and the virtual invitations that needed to be sent. She badly tried to hide her surprise when Marinette confirmed her that yes, Chloe and Sabrina were invited, but she didn't comment on the matter. Nino, of course, offered his services as a DJ, grinning when Adrien confessed that they wouldn't ever dare to dream of trusting anybody else with the music. Before taking his early leave, Gabriel blankly stated that, of course, the groom and the best man were to wear Agreste tuxedos personally fitted. Natalie didn't say much, but Marinette noticed a warmth in her icy eyes that wasn't there upon her arrival. Alya and Nino left not so long after them, both having to work early the next day.

Adrien and her father retreated to the couch, the former having a revenge to claim from the latter for the previous week Ultimate Mecha Strike tournament they had held. Smiling fondly at the sight of the two men of her life sitting side by side on her couch, Marinette filled her sink of soapy water and began cleaning the dishes while humming softly to herself while her mother sipped quietly on her fuming tea at the counter. After a few minutes of silence, the blackette was surprised though by familiar hands grabbing a towel in the drawer and helping her drying the dishes. They worked wordlessly for five minutes or so, mother and daughter enjoying each other's proximity before Sabine broke the silence:
"When are you planning on breaking the big news?"
Marinette stopped dead in her tracks, her hands stilling their movements in the warm water.
"What do you mean, mama? We just did?"
The older woman chuckled lightly as she pecked her daughter on the cheek, before putting away the plates she had dried:
"I know you just made a pretty big announcement, dear. And don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled Adrien and you are getting married. That boy has done more good to you in a little more than two months than anybody even managed in four years. He really loves you, Marinette, that's more than obvious."
"But?" daughter prompted mother to go on.
"But that's not what I'm talking about."

Marinette dried her hands on her apron and turned to face her mother. She read nothing in the kind gray eyes but sheer love and concern for her one and only daughter. Sabine took her child's hands into hers and pulled her into a tight, motherly hug:
"You're simply glowing Marinette, and I know it's not only because you're getting married."
Marinette tried to answer, but her mother cut her short:
"Adrien looks at you like you were a miracle come true. What you're about to give that young man in a few months is what he has been dreaming of his whole life. A chance to have a home instead of a house. A family of his own."
Kissing her daughter on the forehead, Sabine Cheng went on:
"I know you feel guilty because he has done so much for you these past weeks and will probably continue to do so. But think about what you are giving him, Marinette. Because of you and the little lovebug nestled inside your belly, that boy won't ever be alone again."

If either of the men understood with both women were crying tears of joy in each other's embrace in the kitchen in front of a sink full of dirty dishes, neither of them felt the need to clarify the situation.