Damn Teddy Bear°•°•°

The idea of the scenario :

Took the job of the plushie.

The oneshot :

Ace lay stiffly in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling like it had personally offended him. The room was quiet, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a golden hue over the luxurious bedroom. The only sound was the soft, steady rhythm of [Y/n]'s breathing.

Or rather, [Y/n]'s breathing right next to his ear.

Because at some point– somehow– she had managed to worm her way across the massive bed, completely ignoring the plush teddy bear sitting right next to her pillow and was now clinging to him in her sleep like a baby koala.

He didn't move. He didn't dare to move.

Her arms were loosely draped over his chest, her head tucked just beneath his chin and one of her legs (her bare leg, thanks to that silk nightgown) was half-thrown over his hip. It was a tangle of limbs, hair and soft snores.

He could feel the exact moment when his jaw clenched so tightly he thought his teeth might crack.

The damn teddy bear– the one he had instructed the maid to leave for her, thinking she'd cling to it instead of him– sat uselessly against the pillows, like a silent witness to his torment.

Ace glared at it.

Stupid bear.

He shifted a little, carefully trying to peel her off of him without waking her up. But the moment he so much as moved an inch, she let out a sleepy whimper– a soft, almost pitiful sound– and clutched him tighter.

He froze. His arms hung awkwardly at his sides, unsure of where to place them. He didn't dare touch her, not even to gently push her back to her side of the bed. No, that was a dangerous game. He'd rather sleep like a board all night than risk anything that could be misinterpreted.

His mind spun, a storm of frustration, disbelief, and grim acceptance swirling inside him.

She has a bear. A perfectly good bear. Why is she not hugging the bear ?

He cast another glare at the stuffed animal, as if silently willing it to do its job.

The bear, of course, did nothing.

He exhaled slowly, a long, suffering sigh that no one but him could hear. He was a mafia boss– a feared one. His enemies cowered at the mention of his name. He had built an empire through ruthless strategy and unwavering discipline.

And yet here he was– held hostage by a mere 18-year-old girl in pink pajamas who smelled like vanilla and shampoo.

This was his life now.

The longer he lay there, the heavier the weight of it all felt. Not [Y/n]'s weight– because honestly, she was so small it was like having a feather draped over him– but the sheer, undeniable reality of his situation.

He wasn't a husband. Not really. He was a glorified babysitter. A babysitter who couldn't yell, couldn't scold, couldn't even roll his eyes too hard without risking an international incident within the family.

With another long-suffering sigh, he closed his eyes, resigned to his fate for the night.

The bear remained silent.

And [Y/n] ? She just snuggled closer, blissfully unaware of the absolute torment she was putting her husband through.

Tomorrow was going to be hell. Again.

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(A/n) : so for those who didn't quite get the context, it's an arranged marriage so Ace is 28 and [Y/n]'s 18, and he didn't want to appear like a pedophile. I hope that helped you to understand why he was acting like that. Quite a short oneshot. Whatever.

See ya ! 💋