*Author's Notes*

This one-shot is a partial retelling of chapter 12 from mostlovedgirl's fantastic Adrienette April story Remember That Time When... (found over on AO3; sorry I can't drop a link). Honestly, I was just going to leave this as a little headcanoned scene I talked about in the chapter comments, but my mind just couldn't leave it alone. It kept me over a week of slowly poking away at this, but I'm satisfied with how it came out in the end.

**SPOILER ALERT: Since this is a retelling of a scene from the 12th chapter, there WILL be spoilers for Remember That Time When... If you haven't hopped over to AO3 to read it yet, I strongly suggest you do. It is such a fantastically cute Adrienette fluff-fest. Go on. Read that first. It's okay. I'll wait. *unfolds lawn chair*

~ Could Your Paradise Also Be Your Hell? ~

Marinette sat huddled in a corner, her knees tucked into the hem of her oversized sweater. She hugged her legs close as her fingertips played with the hem of her sleeves. Anything to avoid playing with the ring on her left hand.

She closed her eyes tight and ignored the subtle weight of the ring. Ignored what it meant. Ignored where she was hiding and who she was hiding from. In her mind she was where she was supposed to be: at home, in her room. She was acutely aware that wasn't where she was though.

Somehow, through methods she couldn't begin to uncover, she wasn't seventeen anymore. She was twenty-two. It wasn't 2018 any longer. It was 2023. She wasn't Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She was Marinette Agreste.

Yesterday she still was all those things, though. Yesterday she was still seventeen-year-old Marinette Dupain-Cheng, living in her parents' home during the year of 2018. Yesterday she was still hiding her love for Adrien Agreste after years of failed attempts to get over him. Yesterday she had no idea what her future held, but frequently pictured the possibilities.

Then she woke up that morning, magically in her twenty-two-year-old body with no recollection of the past five years. Not to mention, she woke up with an equally confused Adrien sleeping beside her. Well, sleeping until she rudely – and literally – kicked him out of bed in shock and surprise.

The weight of the diamond wedding ring pressed against her left ring finger, and she once more struggled to not play with it.

Adrien claimed he also had no idea what happened. As far as he knew, it was Friday, April 13, 2018, and he was a seventeen-year-old living in his father's mansion; completely and utterly unaware that he and Marinette would ever be anything other than best friends. However, for someone seemingly as baffled as Marinette about how they both ended up five years in the future, and in the bodies of their older selves - and married - Adrien seemed to be taking everything in stride. He didn't appear flustered about any part of the situation the two of them found themselves in. (Well, maybe a little flustered when Marinette found the drawer filled with lingerie, but she was pretty sure she got the lion's share of embarrassment at that discovery.)

In fact, Marinette was fairly certain this was the most relaxed she had ever seen Adrien. They were in a strange apartment together, hurled into bodies that were theirs but still new and unfamiliar, in a year they knew nothing about, and surrounded by evidence of their blissful marriage when they weren't even dating the day before. Marinette never even let him know how she felt about him. On top of all of that, the two of them found evidence proving this was definitely a relationship that involved far more intimacy than that of mere "best friends." Despite the heat flooding Marinette's cheeks at the simple memory of that lingerie drawer, Adrien didn't seem fazed in the slightest about the whole situation. He actually appeared to be enjoying himself!

He was enjoying a future and life where he was married to Marinette. She got light headed as she remembered each time she caught him playing with his wedding band, each time he smiled at her, each time his fingers casually brushed her arm or shoulder. Not to mention, the long moment they had trying to process that he was holding up a framed picture of their wedding day, and the pride in his voice as he showed off this very room to her.

Marinette looked around the sewing studio her future self had in her apartment. Everything was exactly how she pictured it: powder-pink walls lined with shelves neatly packed with boxes of notions, bolts of fabric, and racks of thread. A sewing dummy was tucked in the corner opposite her hiding spot, a dummy head for hats and head pieces rested on a shelf beside the sewing dummy, and a large work table took up the center of the room. A basket of pattern drafting tools and a cup of fabric chalk rested on the corner of the table. It was beautiful and it was hers. Well, future hers. Current hers?

With a sigh, Marinette checked her older counterpart's phone. Three in the morning. She really should get some sleep, but her mind wouldn't turn off.

"You did it, Marinette. You graduated from ESMOD." Adrien's prideful whisper in her ear earlier that day rang through her head. She stood up and walked back over to her future diploma hanging by the door to her studio. She ran her hand over the name: Marinette Agreste.

Marinette Agreste. She had married him before graduating. They were so in love they couldn't wait until she was done with school to become husband and wife. Her eyes stung as more tears threatened to spill for the – what? Fourth time that day? Fifth?

Her eyes drifted to the framed photo hung beside the diploma. She was in her cap and gown, and raised in the air by an overly excited Adrien beaming at her. The smile was familiar. It was in nearly every photo the adult Adrien and Marinette had displayed. The smile was also new to her. Marinette didn't recall ever seeing Adrien that happy before. It broke her heart and healed it and broke it again all at the same time.

Could your paradise also be your hell? It felt like it to Marinette. Everything she ever wanted was right there, in this apartment. She was a graduate of ESMOD without ever remembering the trials and struggles to get there. She had the studio of her dreams and could just spend all day crafting; no more school to worry about. She was married to the love of her life, and he seemed the happiest she'd ever known him. She could stay there forever.

At the same time, though, she knew this wasn't real. This wasn't meant to last. This wasn't her life. She was simply borrowing it somehow, for some reason. It would all end, and she'd be back in her real body; once more seventeen and once more loving Adrien from afar.

Marinette rested against the wall and slid back down to the floor, tugging at her sleeve to make sure the wedding ring remained hidden beneath it. She had everything she could ever dream, and yet she didn't have any of it either.

I wish I could tell you everything, the note to herself said. A note proving that Marinette had been in this exact situation before, back when her now-twenty-two-year-old self was seventeen and had her own turn with these time traveling (body possessing?) shenanigans. The Marinette that had written that note had once been her, huddled in the corner of her older self's sewing studio while trying to wrap her mind around the fact that this future woman somehow had everything they could hope for.

Adrien and I talked it over when we got back to 2018 and agreed to leave it a surprise, the letter had continued. More proof. This wasn't permanent. This was just a torturous taste of a future she could have, but it wasn't hers to keep. It was going to end. She was going to return to 2018. Everything would go back to how it was the day before.

This whole life was a mockery to torture her. She hated to leave it, but she also begged for it to all go away. Her heart couldn't handle it. The Marinette that had left them that note would have known that; would have known that Marinette was mentally begging for anything to hold on to. Instead, her own handwriting taunted her.

Trust Adrien, and try not to stress. Clearly she didn't even know herself all that well. It felt like all she was doing since finding the letter was stressing. Her stomach was knotted tight from it, her head was light from it, her eyes stung because of it, and she was wide awake at 3AM and hiding in her future self's sewing studio because of the overwhelming stress of it all. She couldn't even imagine a scenario where she would be so cruel as to write "try not to stress" to her past self.

P.S. Feel free to smack him if he starts using too many puns, the letter concluded. The line was scratched out and the Adrien that had co-written the note added "She doesn't mean it." The two of them were bantering even within the confines of a single-page letter. The Marinette that wrote that letter felt comfortable with playfully smacking her Adrien, and he trusted the Marinette reading the letter would follow the advice and felt the need to clarify. There was a playfulness there. Those two were the ones that would someday marry.

Marinette couldn't fathom becoming that Marinette. There was no way she could ever be that comfortable with her Adrien, or that he'd be that playful with her.

Take care of her, Adrien's half of the letter had said. It seemed so tender, so protective. Maybe because it felt unnecessary to say. Adrien had always cared for her. She knew he could be protective of her, along with his other friends. It was just within Adrien's nature to take care of whomever he was with. So, for the Adrien that co-wrote the letter to have stressed it to the one reading? It almost felt like a plea. Like there was more there than a man wishing his stressed friend would be well looked after.

More tears slid down Marinette's already water-streaked cheeks. With a shaky hand, she unlocked the studio door and slowly slid it open. The apartment was dark. Adrien had long gone to bed. It kept Marinette a couple minutes for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, but eventually she felt secure enough to venture out of her safe haven.

The apartment seemed so peaceful in the dark and silence. Marinette could avoid the pictures of her older self smiling and laughing beside her husband. She could ignore that she shared this apartment with anyone. Instead, she walked over to a window, peeled back the curtain a bit, and just let the lights of Paris wash over her. They were a constant. They remained the same even five years into the future. It wasn't the same view of Paris she was used to atop her balcony, but it still grounded her. It still made the apartment feel a bit more like home.

Marinette felt a touch calmer in that darkness; in that quiet. Her skin itched from her tears drying, and reminded her to wipe her face clean. She walked back towards the guest powder room to splash water on her face, only to catch the faint sound of snoring from the bedroom. It was a soft sound more akin to a loud purr then that of a bear growl. Her father had a bear-growl snore, and she never knew how her mother could ever sleep through that. Adrien's snoring, however, was soothing and almost enchanting; calling her to the bedroom.

Testing the handle as if it could be hot, Marinette slowly turned it; surprised Adrien had left it unlocked. As gingerly as she could, so not to wake Adrien, Marinette crept the door open. Instantly her eyes fell onto the silhouette of the bed, and of the lump nestled in it.

Adrien's gentle snoring was a siren's song pulling her closer to disaster, and yet she followed. She padded over to the bed she had woken up in that morning. Despite Adrien having the full thing to himself, he kept to the half Marinette had found him in – and promptly kicked him out of – roughly eighteen hours ago. Their first night in their future-selves' bodies, and Adrien had already fallen into the routine of sticking to his side of the mattress. Married Marinette's side was left untouched, as if he was expecting the Marinette he was stuck with to claim it at some point in the night.

Something seemed off though. That morning she had woken up with Adrien's arm draped around her waist as he contently cuddled her. Now, however, his back was towards the vacant half of the large bed, as if he was trying to forget it was there. He seemed so happy the rest of the day, but he looked so lonely as he slept.

Marinette knelt beside his half of the bed and took him in. He was again shirtless, his bare arms and upper chest free of the duvet. The arm he was laying on was tucked under his pillow. His fingertips curled around the opposite side, creasing the pillow as he hugged it against his head. Adrien's top arm slumped across his chest, the duvet tight in his grip. His jaw was stiff and his eyebrows were slightly scrunched.

Marinette blinked a few times, assuming her eyes weren't as adjusted to the dark as she thought. This wasn't the carefree Adrien she had endured all day. This wasn't the Adrien that discovered the true married Agrestes had planned a trip to New York City that weekend, and practically begged Marinette to join him on the excursion to the United States. This Adrien was pained. Had she caused that? She did avoid him the entire evening after they had dinner. He was probably just as confused as her about what was going on, but she simply abandoned him, too overwhelmed with how easily he slipped into the role of a loving husband.

Husband. Marinette reached for his shoulder. Millimeters from his sun-bronzed skin, she stopped, leaving her hand hovering just above it. She couldn't chance waking him. Instead, she kept her hand a few centimeters above Adrien's slumbering body as she traced his side, imagining their skin touching as she ran her fingers across her future husband's waist.

Adrien was slightly curled on his side, his knees bent up and a small patch of bare mattress by his stomach. Marinette could almost picture a cat snuggled into that gentle curve and wondered if Adrien ever had a pet that she didn't know about. Despite her best judgment, Marinette rested her head against that bare patch of bed and let out a small whimper.

In response, Adrien deeply inhaled. Marinette froze as she watched him, praying that he'd stay asleep. The air was still and silent as Marinette counted three loud heartbeats in her ears. Then Adrien let out a low, long, and satisfied moan. In time with the moan, Adrien's fingers loosened both around the pillow and duvet. The tension in his face also relaxed, and a hint of a smile kissed his lips. The snoring stopped, instead switching to deep breaths punctuated with a few more contented moans.

The sound soothed Marinette as well. Shifting so her shoulder was leaning against the bed and her legs were tucked to her side, she kept her head on the mattress and just watched Adrien sleep. She knew she could do that for the rest of her life. All she needed was the ability to watch him, the feel of his body heat radiating out to keep her warm, the sound of his calm and steady breathing, and the knowledge that he was dreaming peacefully.

Her fears melted away. The letter meant that Marinette had done this before. She had traveled to the future – to this future – before. She had gone with Adrien to New York City as a married couple. She had grown comfortable enough with him to playfully banter and bicker. Adrien had fallen in love with her; somehow, someway, sometime. They had gotten married. They had taken all of those joyful photos. Adrien was the happiest Marinette had ever known him. They then built a life together in this very apartment.

She had managed it before. She was bound to do so again, right? This was her future. This was proof that it was possible to get all she ever dreamed. This was a way to keep the faith and stay true to her heart once she returned to 2018. Maybe she could actually enjoy the dream while it lasted.

Adrien let out another soft moan, and shifted his head just enough for his bangs to fall into his eyes. Marinette struggled to stay where she was.

Don't touch his hair, she mentally advised. Don't do it. Stay still. He's fine with his hair there. You don't want to wake him up. Leave it. Leave it. Leave it.

She tore her eyes from his face to try to better ignore how adorable he looked with his hair slightly out of place like that. Instead, she focused on his shoulders- No! Chest- Nuh-uh! On his arms- Nope! His hand! She listened to his breathing as she focused on his hand. The hand with a thick, silver wedding band wrapped around his finger. A wedding band that linked him to her. At some point in the future, she would put that very ring on his hand. She would be in that gorgeous wedding gown, holding his left hand in hers, sliding the ring onto his finger, and pouring out everything she had stored in her heart for ages.

Well, maybe an abridged version of everything in her heart.

The knot returned to her throat and her eyes stung once more. She couldn't stop it. Her chest heaved as she quietly wept into her little cubby of the bed. Her body screamed for her to touch him. To take his hand and play with his ring. To prove to herself it was truly there and real. That she was his and he was hers. That their hearts belonged to each other.

She couldn't touch him, though. She couldn't chance it. Watching him sleep was weird enough. Doing so while nestled against his side of the bed was doubly weird. Holding a sleeping man's hand without knowing he'd be alright with it? Total creep levels there. So, instead she closed her eyes to try to stem temptation, and concentrated on his breathing as she continued to freely weep.

She lost track of the time and didn't bother with the cell phone to try to find it again. It could have been five minutes. It could have been ten. Could have been forty-five for all she knew and cared. All that mattered was that eventually the tears stopped. She was dry and exhausted, but she couldn't be sad any longer either.

Despite Marinette crying silently, something had disturbed Adrien, and he shifted in his sleep during Marinette's latest breakdown. His hand brushed dangerously close to Marinette's nose, and his knees curled closer to the back of her head. He also tilted a hair's breath closer to the edge of the bed; just enough to start him snoring again. The soft sounds of his deep breathing were comforting, but also could have been anyone. Marinette could have told herself it was her mother or Alya or any of the other girls deeply breathing in slumber beside her. The soft, purr-like snoring was distinctly Adrien, though.

She feared breaking down once more, but the snoring – the knowledge that it was Adrien curled around her head like that – drained all the tension her crying had built up. It was cute. It was somehow perfectly him. The sound pulled on the corners of her mouth until she was faintly smiling.

The snoring sounded like home.

Marinette let her own breathing fall in time with Adrien's. Even when the man was asleep, he was her comfort and sanity. She was okay. She was going to be fine. If Adrien could just let everything ride, why couldn't she? If he was alright with pretending to be her husband, why couldn't she just accept the affection and enjoy it?

She knew the answer to that last question, but didn't want to dwell. She breathed him in and hoped the smell of rose hips and sandalwood would help empty her mind.

Be in the moment, Marinette, she ordered herself. She then took another deep breath in time with Adrien, and focused on his scent; his body heat wrapped around her; that adorable little snore.

Exhaustion began to overtake her. Marinette's body became more limp with each passing breath, and her head listed further into the mattress. She really needed to get some sleep, especially with the long trip to New York in less than twelve hours. With a soft whine, Marinette pushed herself onto her feet. She already missed the feel of Adrien's body heat kissing her skin.

She eyed up the empty half of the bed. It was so welcoming, and looked comfier than any mattress she had ever laid on. Plus, Adrien was right there, and the bed was probably the perfect warmth with him snuggled in it for a few hours already. She was still fully clothed in her oversized sweater and lounge pants. Adrien was wearing pajama pants that morning, so he was probably wearing some again. They would be properly clothed, and Adrien clearly left space for her to climb into bed beside him. It would be perfectly innocent. She would just gingerly lift the corner of the duvet, and smoothly slide in behind Adrien, and-

Nope! Marinette's face flooded with heat at the simple mental image of spooning Adrien Agreste. She didn't even need to spoon him, just being in bed beside him was enough to scorch her cheeks. Her mouth dried instantly, and her tongue swelled. She needed water. Lots and lots of water. Most likely in the form of a frozen shower.

Maybe if I just climb into bed with my back towards him too? There could be enough space between us. It would be fine. Marinette's eyes again appraised the vacant half of the bed. The marital bed. The bed where the married Marinette and Adrien Agreste slept. And... did... other things.

Marinette's heart nearly broke through her rib cage. She then remembered that morning. She wasn't sure if the married Adrien was already cuddling his wife when the seventeen-year-old one possessed his body, or if the Adrien she knew had sensed her beside him and reached out of his own accord. Marinette's knees got weak thinking of either possibility.

Then she thought of Adrien's contented moan when she rested her head beside him just a little while ago. He was asleep. She was sure he was asleep. Yet it was almost like he knew she was there. After abandoning him all night, could she abandon him again now? He seemed so peaceful when she was beside him. If she joined him in the bed it would be for his benefit; to make sure he was happy. That had to make it the right thing to do, right?

Adrien would be so calm and happy, subconsciously knowing she was there. He did seem quite the cuddler, though. He'd probably shift like he did when she knelt beside him, rolling over to face her again. He'd then even inch closer to her and wrap his arm around her waist like he did that morning. Maybe even pull her closer to him so he was spooning her. She could be wrapped within that soothing body heat and those large, luscious arms. She could spend the early morning listening to that adorable purr-like snore in her ear. Maybe his chest even vibrated slightly as if he truly was purring.

Marinette's whole body caught fire as she imagined Adrien snuggled right up on her. Especially when she remembered a certain factoid about men in the morning and-

"Eep," she squeaked, instantly smacking her hands over her mouth to muffle her panic. Eyes wide, Marinette watched Adrien, and tried to block out picturing anything that was covered by the duvet. Her squeak didn't wake him, but he did stir and let out another moan that just melted Marinette.

How on earth do I survive living with that every day? Marinette couldn't believe how much she could envy herself. The older Marinette probably got so used to those moans and snores that she doesn't even hear them anymore. Meanwhile, the Marinette currently standing in that room was about to combust, she knew it. She really needed that cold splash of water now, and certainly couldn't share this bed with that man. Nope. Can't do it. Not today.

She ran as softly as she could for the bedroom door, but froze when she got there. Looking back over her shoulder, flashes of how she had found Adrien earlier raced through her mind. She had to make sure he knew he wasn't alone. Before her mind could catch up to her feet, she walked back to Adrien's side of the bed.

This is stupid! This is stupid. This is stupid. This is stupid! Marinette bit her lip as she stood over her future husband. Some of his hair was still fallen in his eyes, so she gently brushed them back in place. Adrien followed her hand slightly, but remained asleep. The room was quiet, but Marinette's heart echoed deafeningly. After struggling though a few shallow breaths, Marinette leaned in and gave Adrien a feather-light peck on the top of his head.

Adrien responded with the most relaxed, warm, and satisfied moan. His head tilted slightly back; daring her to try a peck on his lips next. A smile stretched across them, tempting her further.

Before she could succumb, she sprinted back to the bedroom door and out into the hall. In one quick motion, she clicked the door closed behind her and rested her forehead against the smooth, soft wood.

Oooooh, that was dumb! That was really dumb! The sound of Adrien's happy little moan replaying in her head told her otherwise.

"Water!" she whisper-shouted to herself, and bee-lined to the powder room. She splashed some water on her face, and drank from the tap. Anything to try to calm herself down and chill her burning skin. The water helped, but not nearly as much as she'd like. Not seeing any other option, Marinette practically leapt into her sewing studio and locked the door behind her.

She was back to hiding from Adrien within the studio. It was different this time, though. Marinette plucked the picture of her future graduation off the wall, then grabbed the softest and warmest bolt of fabric from a shelf. She made herself a little pillow, and draped a few yards of fabric across her like a blanket. Hugging the framed picture to her chest, Marinette thought about Adrien's happy moans and purr-snores.

Those would be hers to hear every night someday. This studio would be hers someday. Adrien's smiles would be because of her someday.

She could live with Someday.

A little after 4AM, Marinette finally drifted off to sleep; dreaming about Someday.

~ Thank you for reading. Reviews are always welcome. You can also PM me if you don't wish to leave a public review.~

*Closing Notes*

I wanted to recap what had happened previously in Remember That Time When... so people who didn't read MLG's story still knew what was going on. However, why wouldn't you just read MLG's story!? IT'S AMAZING! It's so full of fluff and the concept is brilliant and the world-building is fantastic. It's one of my all-time favorite fics, and it's not even finished yet (as of April 2021).

Please go read her story! If you liked mine at all, but would like some extra fluff with your story instead, go check hers out. I promise you will enjoy yourself.

Also, for any who might be wondering about Tikki or Plagg... wellllllllllll. MLG has been really cagey about whether or not this is a non-Miraculous AU. The kwamis, Miraculouses, or superheroes/villains aren't mentioned at all, but every time someone in the comments asks she responds with "too soon to say, but all will be revealed". So, not knowing if this IS a non-Miraculous AU, I just left it vague as well. However, this is why poor Marinette can't just talk things out with Tikki.