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“This is not funny,” Adrien grumbles again, but he can tell Ladybug is trying to stifle her giggles beside him.
The night after the open letter surfaced, his father wanted to know why he was out alone and why he just had to be saved by Ladybug. He apologized extensively, even promising that he wouldn’t ever do it again. Adrien sulked back to his bedroom, realizing that he was going to have to be very careful about sneaking out now, only to find Ladybug twirling around in his desk chair while the Ladyblog was still open on the four computer screens.
One thing Adrien never wanted Ladybug to know was that he subscribed to the news site. (It was probably bound to happen, sooner or later, he realizes now, but it’s not like he wanted it to happen.)
But she only thought the letter was amusing, which Adrien hadn’t thought at all.
“This is pretty funny, I think,” Ladybug grins, using the mouse to scroll down. “I mean, I already read it this morning and, come on, ‘Yesterday tragedy struck’?” Ladybug snorts, the sound unfamiliar to Adrien before she continues. “I just, this is just so funny to me.”
Adrien rubs his temples, willing the headache to go away as he sinks into his bed. He lets out a groan and his girlfriend turns towards the sound.
“Are you… okay?” She questions, standing and hovering over his shut eyes. “Did--uh, did I say something? I’m so so sorry- it’s not funny at all--”
He peers open one eye, staring up at a now-frantic Ladybug. “Hey,” his hand grasps her wrist. “It’s not you. It’s...It’s the club.”
Her eyes widen. “Do they really cause you that much stress?”
Adrien closes his eyes again and sighs. “Yeah, and I kind of hate it. I want to be kind to them because they support me and all, but they make me so uncomfortable that it’s hard to deal with.” He feels the weight of the bed shift, and then a there is a spandex-covered hand running down his arm gently as if the calm him down.
(It does. But he probably won’t tell her that, just in case she tries to use it in a different setting.)
“That makes sense. They looked like they were going to eat you alive out there.”
A chuckle escapes his lips, because he can’t say she’s entirely wrong. The fan club probably could have feasted--and made sure there was enough Adrien for everyone.
(That creeps him out, though. He decides to block that out of his head.)
Ladybug pats the place she rubbed, trying to drag him out of his misery. It seems to be working well enough, but a little part of her thinks it’s because she’s there for him.
“Maybe you should tell them that? Help them realize they scare you a little bit?”
The idea bounces around in his mind before he sits up abruptly. “That’s actually a pretty good idea.” They sit on his bed, thinking over the idea before Adrien mutters. “I wouldn’t want them to be sad, though.” He falls back again onto the bed with a soft thud, and Ladybug cringes when his fingers rub at his temples anxiously. Adrien rolls over, huffing and limply dropping his shoulders.
He feels her hands glide over his shoulders until she’s pressing down gently and something attempts to unwind in his back.
“Wow, you are so tense,” she points out, and she pushes on the tightest part and he groans. “I think that this is a knot, right here.”
“Yes, the life of a model is so hard,” he sarcastically complains, words muffled by his bed sheets. She touches a tender spot and he groans again.
“You just need to relax,” Ladybug suggests. “There are three things you can do about this situation.”
Adrien hums questioningly before she continues.
“One, let the girls cool down on their own. Two, try not to upset your father.” Her hands spread to his lower back, and for a split-second, she’s in awe of the muscle she finds there. Adrien’s not faring much better underneath her touch, praying that she can’t feel the heat through her suit.
“I can do that much.”
“Well good,” she murmurs, but Adrien can only think about the warm breath on the back of his neck.
“And three?” He croaks.
“Three’s entirely up to me.” Her voice is low as she presses a chaste kiss--that is nothing like her promise--to the nape of his neck, and embarrassingly, his heart speeds up as he lets out an accidental moan.
(He doesn't think about the fan club or his father for the rest of the night.)
