s e o u l | k p o p - o s

195. NCT Doyoung - Newly Dreaded

Tumblr : gamerwoo

 i'm gonna make 2 requests because sister is h e l l a depressed, soo like can i ask for like soft domestic boyfriend wonho lmfao and like a mafia doyoung please ? i love you bub

Characters: Doyoung x fem!reader

Genre/warnings: mafia au, arranged marriage au, kind of enemies to lovers???, angst, fluff

Word count: 1,211

Summary: To appease both parties, your father offers you up as a peace treaty of sorts to the rival mafia. But despite the agreement between the two groups, you're not too happy about having a new husband.

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You stared out the balcony of your room, surveying the backyard. It had a large flower garden with perfectly kept bushes, and white benches to sit at. You could see a clear pond in the middle with lamps hanging around it to show off the brightly colored koi fish swimming in it.

Inside, your room was large, as well. A giant bed with more space than you knew what to do with, a walk-in closet that was already pre-stocked with clothes – partly some you already owned from your old home, and some newly bought keeping your tastes in mind – and even a full bathroom. The room was full of your favorite things, whether it be flowers or just splashes of your favorite color. Your new husband – as of tonight – had gotten everything perfect.

Though, you were pretty sure he had nothing to do with it.

You stared down at your hands as they clutched the railing. The shiny ring on your finger stared back at you as a harsh reminder that this was your reality – you were married to someone you barely knew, and didn't even wanted to be married to. You wanted to marry out of love, not an arrangement to keep two groups of men from killing each other.

In your head, the moment you had to choke out, "I do," kept replaying in your head. You forced a smile, and you were sure Doyoung's was forced, too. People clapped when you finally kissed him, but you wanted nothing more than to shove him off and run away – not just from him, but from all of this.

You stayed at the party long enough for it to not be considered rude of you to leave early. You hung onto Doyoung's arm as they two of you made your way around the fancy party hall to thank those had come or to introduce the other to your respective guests. You were sure you'd remember none of them – well, except maybe Doyoung's boss, Taeyong, who looked very intimidating with that icy stare of his.

The one good thing about this marriage was that you weren't forced to marry Taeyong, just one of his more higher ranked men.

But even so, Doyoung was the same way the first time you met him. Cold stare, monotone greeting, and just a clear distaste for you. It wasn't until it was agreed the two of you would be married that he started showing smiled and chivalry. So you knew it was all pretend, but you didn't like pretending, so you stuck to barely speaking to or looking at him.

"You know I was knocking for like, two minutes, right?" Doyoung's voice behind you made you jump and spin around, staring at him with wide-eyes. He just chuckled. "Sorry."

"You fucking scared me!" you gasped, holding a hand over your heart that nearly burst from fright. "What do you want? If you're here for the honeymoon thing–"

"You left early," he shrugged, "so I came to see if you were okay."

You gave him an incredulous look, "I just got married to a man I barely know, all to form some fucking peace treaty; why would I be okay?"

Doyoung's smile fell, forming into a frown that creased his beautiful – though, you hated to admit that – face, "Hey, you had the chance to get to know me. It's your own fault for never speaking to me."

"You only took me on five dates!"

"And sent flowers and cards, and sent gifts, and–"

"Yes, because of the agreement that was made," you reminded him. "You were to treat me like a wife and make me happy, and I was to marry you. But here we are, and I'm not happy!"

Doyoung was clearly losing patience with you, but you were angry. You wanted to yell about this all night if it got your point across that you weren't happy in this situation, and you were even prepared to do so.

However, Doyoung just inhaled, held it for a moment, and let the breath out slowly, "I know, and I understand. I just–"

"Wait," you interrupted, cocking an eyebrow, "what was that?"

Doyoung looked at you funny, cocking his head to one side, "You mean me...breathing?"

"Yeah, you were getting angry with me but just...stopped. Why?"

"Why did I stop being mad?"

"No, why are you being nice to me? Look, if this is because of the honeymoon part of things, just get it over with so–"

"Wait, what?"

The two of you just stared at each other: you waiting for him to get it, and him waiting for you to explain. As you realized you'd have to actually explain what happened after weddings to him, you felt your face heat – this time, in embarrassment rather than anger.

"Y'know, what couples do after getting married," you mumbled. "If that's why you're being nice to me, I just want to get it done and out of the way."

Doyoung shook his head like he was trying to clear his thoughts, "Wait, you think I came here to– _____, no! I just came here to see if you were okay! _____, we're not even sharing a bedroom, let alone doing that."

"W-we're not?" now you felt really embarrassed, the blush reaching the tips of your ears.

He just shook his head again, "Why would I make you do that?"

"Because we're married," you mumbled with a shrug, suddenly finding your bare feet much more interesting.

"_____, you've always made it clear you weren't comfortable, and I've been trying my best to make you comfortable considering the situation. We're together now, and I want to at least try to make the best of things. That means I'm not going to force you to do things you don't want to do."

"Why aren't you just giving up on me?" you asked quietly, glancing up at him through your lashes.

"You're my wife," he chuckled. "I don't want to hate my wife, and I'd like to try to get her to not hate me. But...anyway, I'll be across the hall if you need anything. There are plenty of leftovers from the wedding – including cake – and everything in the house is yours to explore and mess with."

"Actually," you began softly as he turned to leave, so he paused and studied you, "I didn't eat much at the wedding. I don't think I had anything other than that one bite of cake."

"Same here," he laughed, shaking his head. "Who knew mafia guys could talk so much? I didn't even get to sit down!"

You didn't know why you suddenly changed – maybe because it was so late and Doyoung's words had seeped into your tired brain – or if the change would last until morning, but you figured Doyoung was right. This was life now, and clearly Doyoung wasn't the worst person you could be stuck marrying. You might as well try to make the best of it.

You shrugged, offering a shy smile, "We could eat now...?"

A smile broke out onto Doyoung's face as he nodded, "Okay. And I promise to not get frosting on your face this time."