A Little Bit Like Forever

A Little Bit Like Forever

Pairing: Dokyeom x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Friends-to-Lovers, High School Romance

Word Count: ~4,500

Synopsis: Middle school chaos, high school awkwardness, and a love hidden beneath playful teasing. From sneaky stolen bags to whispered confessions in a dim classroom, you and Dokyeom were always a little bit of everything—until prom night, where a few photobooth pictures capture the moment when "just friends" becomes something a little bit like forever.

A/N: Hi, I'm new here! I really hope you enjoy this fluffy Dokyeom (aka Dikeyyy) fanfic. My English might not be the best, but I put all my heart into this story! Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading! 🖤

Middle school was weird, but somehow, it was fun. Sitting in the middle of two boys, Dino on the left and Dokyeom on the right, felt like a tiny pocket of chaos that made you forget how awkward everything else was. You weren't close with anyone else in that class, but with Dino and Dokyeom, it felt like… a compromise. You let them doodle on your hands—swirls, random lines, some silly drawings—because, well, what else was there to do?

“Stop moving,” Dokyeom said one day, drawing some weird stick figure on your wrist. You laughed.

“Why? You trying to make me look cooler?” you joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Pffft,” Dino added with a smirk. “Cooler? Sure, if you want to look like a walking art project from a 5-year-old.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, Dino, so supportive. Love that for me.”

But as fun as it was, things changed. Dino’s girlfriend, Mindy, didn’t exactly love your dynamic. She got jealous—angrily-so. Once she threw a fit so loud, half the school knew about it, and suddenly, everything felt off. When the seating arrangement changed, you were left out. Dino and Dokyeom hung out with the boys, and you… well, you made new friends, but group projects felt lonelier. Everyone paired up with their besties, and the boys? They didn’t choose you anymore. It stung more than you’d like to admit. You wondered if you were the only one who thought those days sitting together were special.

High school started, and Dino moved to China. It was just you and Dokyeom again, but this time, he sat behind you. You had Wonnie now, your partner-in-crime. Life seemed less lonely, at least until Dokyeom decided to continue being his usual playful self.

One day, you noticed your bag had mysteriously disappeared after class.

“Has anyone seen my bag?” you called out, frantically searching the classroom. A chorus of chuckles erupted from the back.

You glanced at Dokyeom, and there it was—his trademark smug grin.

“Okay, where’s my bag, Dokyeom?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Oh, I don’t know, Y/N,” he said, shrugging innocently. But his smile said otherwise.

The boys were still laughing, and as soon as you found your bag tucked behind the locker, you stormed back toward Dokyeom. Without hesitation, you wrapped your hands around his neck, mock-choking him.

“You think this is funny?” you grumbled, tightening your playful grip.

He didn’t flinch. In fact, he just placed his hand over yours, his smile growing wider. “You really think you’re scary?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Get out of here, dork.”

Then, it began: the daily texts from Dokyeom. At first, it was harmless. “Do we have any homework?” or “What was the page number for that assignment?” Simple stuff. You replied because you figured he was just lazy.

Until one day, during a quiz, his teammate Mingyu—a giant compared to the rest of the team—walked by your class. As the room fell into a sudden silence, he called out, “DOKYEOM!” and then, without skipping a beat, added, “Y/N! He likes you!”

Twice. He repeated it twice, just to make sure the message landed.

Your class? Dead silent. The teacher? Silent. Everyone? Absolutely, painfully silent. You were pretty sure time stopped. As your heart raced, you pretended like you hadn’t heard a thing. You passed the quiz sheets to the back like nothing happened, handing them to Dokyeom who sat there, not breathing, waiting for your reaction.

You didn’t give him one. Instead, you turned and asked, “Got the cells labeled yet?”

The entire room seemed to exhale at once, and time started moving again.

Later, you whispered to yourself, “I’m going to kill Mingyu when I see him.”

After that, things shifted. Dokyeom started texting you every day—not just about homework, but everything. From stories about Seungkwan hogging the bathroom to watch streamers, to Minghao pulling off ridiculous thirst traps for TikTok.

“And guess what Seungkwan did today?” Dokyeom messaged you one night.

You rolled your eyes but smiled at your phone. “What now?”

“He almost flooded the place because he was too busy watching Mobile Legends. And now everyone has to take shorter showers. Mingyu’s so mad, it’s hilarious.”

“You guys live like frat boys, I swear.”

Somehow, the messages made you feel… closer. And then, Dokyeom brought up middle school.

“Remember how Dino and I used to draw on your hand?” he asked one night.

“Yeah,” you typed back. “I figured it was just to pass the time.”

“Nah, we actually liked sitting with you.”

You paused, reading that over again. So, it wasn’t just you. The memories weren’t one-sided.

But the more you started to realize that you might like him, the harder it became to talk to him. You’d freeze up, getting tongue-tied whenever he was around. Dokyeom, on the other hand, seemed to hover around you more. Every time you looked up, he was already watching you, his eyes catching yours before you could look away.

Wonnie noticed, of course. “You two are ridiculous,” she teased, nudging you one day.

“What?” you replied, cheeks reddening.

“Don’t ‘what’ me. He’s literally attached to you at the hip.”

As if on cue, Dokyeom appeared at your table during a group project, not even in your group, just… there.

You glared at him. “Don’t you have work to do with your own group?”

“I’m more interested in what you’re doing,” he said, sliding into a seat next to you.

You groaned internally, but secretly? You liked the attention.

One afternoon, during a free class when everyone else was napping, Dokyeom found you. The classroom was dim, curtains drawn, and the soft hum of air conditioning filled the air. He sat beside you, closer than usual, and playfully took your hand in his.

“Your hand’s so small,” he mused, gently tracing your fingers with his. His lashes fluttered as he glanced down, and you found yourself holding your breath.

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you couldn’t help but think how close he was. So close that you could see the faint flecks of gold in his eyes. So close that… your thoughts scattered when his thumb brushed your palm.

“Is this weird?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head, but your voice didn’t seem to work, so you just sat there, hearts beating loudly in the stillness.

Another day, you walked into school, your stomach aching slightly, probably from the nerves. You passed by Dokyeom, who was sitting on the stairs with Soonyoung and Woozi. As soon as he saw you, he stood up, ditching his friends to walk alongside you.

“Not waiting for them?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Nah,” Dokyeom said, his lips curling into that sheepish smile. “Only waiting for you.”

You tried to hide your blush, especially when Irene, one of the basketball girls, spotted the two of you together. She smirked, as if she’d seen something juicy that would spread like wildfire through the school.

But in that moment, it didn’t matter. Dokyeom walked you to class, and you two chatted like the world outside didn’t exist.

Then came the teasing—especially from Dokyeom’s coach during basketball practice.

“Y/N, you’ve got Dokyeom all flustered these days,” the coach teased, his eyes glinting with amusement. Your face burned red as you tried to smile through it.

When you passed the gym one afternoon on your way home, the boys started calling out, “Dokyeom, Dokyeom!” You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the giddy feeling rising in your chest.

Later that night, Dokyeom messaged you, “Are you okay?”

You laughed, replying, “Mingyu needs to shut his mouth.”

As time went on, Dokyeom kept showing up—whether it was asking you to watch his games or just hanging around with you, Wonnie, and the others. One time, after begging you a million times to come watch a competition, you finally caved. Wonnie and Lisa came along for moral support (and for Lisa to cheer for her own basketball game).

The competition started, and Dokyeom—usually so confident on the court—was… off.

“Why does he look so nervous?” Lisa whispered to you.

“I have no idea,” you whispered back, watching him stumble over a pass.

When the game ended and it was time to go, you waved goodbye to him from the stands. “Good luck, Dokyeom!” you called out, and he waved back, giving you that shy smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

Lisa nudged you. “He was totally off his game because you were here.”

You grinned. “He’ll never admit it.”

Day by day, the countdown to graduation passed like a blur of final exams, senior pranks, and long talks about the future. And then, suddenly, it was prom night.

You were partnered with Dokyeom as prom dates, which everyone saw coming a mile away—even though he’d asked with that awkward, shy smile he’d never quite outgrown. The night of prom, you found yourself in a sleek black dress, feeling confident but nervous. When Dokyeom arrived to pick you up, the sight of him in a black suit was enough to make your heart skip. He looked so handsome—too handsome, honestly.

But if you thought you were nervous, Dokyeom was a whole other level. He could barely look you in the eyes when you walked out.

"You… uh… look great," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes darted everywhere except at you. His cheeks were flushed, and you could barely suppress a smile.

"You look pretty good yourself, Dokyeom," you teased, but that only made him turn even redder.

Prom was everything it was supposed to be—music, dancing, and laughter—but the real highlight came when you dragged Dokyeom to the photobooth set up in the corner. You’d convinced him to take photos together, even though he looked like he might faint from the sheer proximity.

“Come on, it’s just a few photos,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him in.

He looked at you and then quickly looked away, his voice low. "It's the dress. It's messing with my head. Stop looking at me like that."

You laughed, nudging him lightly. "Stop being so shy, it's just me."

But despite his shyness, he agreed, and you both stepped into the booth. You took the first pose, smiling hard, and when the flash went off, Dokyeom was grinning too—though you could tell he was still flustered.

For the second pose, you turned to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. Without warning, you kissed him on the cheek just as the camera snapped the picture. Dokyeom’s eyes widened, and his smile grew so big, he looked like he might burst from happiness.

By the third pose, you two were looking at each other, and the air felt a little different. More charged. Dokyeom’s gaze softened as he looked at you, and then he whispered, “You’re so pretty, you know? My heart is about to burst. Stop it.”

Before you could respond, he raised a hand and gently covered your eyes.

“What are you doing?” you asked, laughing softly under your breath.

“Just trust me,” he murmured, and you did. In the fourth pose, you felt his soft lips against yours, so quick and gentle, but enough to make your own heart race. When he pulled back, his face was bright red, and yours wasn’t far behind. You both sat there for a second, staring at each other, the weight of the moment sinking in.

Dokyeom was the first to break, covering his face with his hands. “You’re killing me, stop staring like that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how adorably nervous he was. “I like it when you’re all shy like this. It’s cute.”

He groaned, gently pushing you away with a smile. “Seriously, stop it. You’re making it worse.” But then his expression softened, and he took your hand again, squeezing it gently. “I love you, [Y/N].”

Your heart melted, and you couldn’t help but tease him one last time. “I love you too, Dikeyyy.”

Just as you were about to say something more, the curtain of the photobooth flew open, and the boys burst in like a whirlwind of chaos.

“Soarin’ like dolphins!” Mingyu announced dramatically. “C’mon, we want our turn!”

Dokyeom shot them a death glare, but you couldn’t stop laughing as you both stumbled out of the booth. The moment was over, but it was something you’d never forget.

More Than Business

Pairing: Han Ji Pyeong x Reader (You) Genre: Subtle Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Growth Word Count: ~2,500 words

Synopsis: You’ve always admired Han Ji Pyeong's blunt honesty, but lately, the quiet moments between you two have stirred feelings you’re unsure of. Your shared dedication to work and loneliness brings you together, yet you can’t help but feel insignificant when you see Ji Pyeong with Dal Mi. After a vulnerable moment at the office, Ji Pyeong takes it upon himself to care for you while you're sick, leading to an emotional confession. Both of you must navigate the unspoken connection, with Ji Pyeong revealing his true feelings in a gentle, heartfelt resolution.

You had always known Han Ji Pyeong was blunt, brutally honest in a way that left little room for sugarcoating. But it was one of the things you liked about him. His sharp words never pierced as deep as they should have because you admired the man behind them—one who gave, even when it wasn’t required, who worked late nights in silence because he was all too familiar with the feeling of being alone.

You had the same tendency—your work often became your escape, your way of avoiding the uncomfortable loneliness that settled in whenever you had too much time to think. Maybe that’s why you ended up being the last two people in the office on holidays like Chuseok, the rest of the team long gone, leaving only you and him, tapping away at your keyboards.

Ji Pyeong had noticed your work ethic early on. It wasn't just that you were good—more than good—but that you didn’t back down. The first time he criticized one of your project ideas, calling it "amateurish" in front of the entire board, it was like a slap to the face. Yet, instead of wilting, you fired back.

“Alright, Ji Pyeong, I hear you. Now give me something better to work with,” you had said, holding his gaze with a smirk.

It had earned you a rare smile—a dimpled one that made your heart do strange things.

Since then, you and Ji Pyeong had developed a dynamic that worked for you both. You were unafraid to stand up to his sharp tongue, and he seemed to appreciate that you didn’t crumble under pressure. Still, something had shifted lately. Every time he smiled that dimpled smile or made a sarcastic comment, you found yourself… wanting more. The quiet moments between you both seemed to mean more than they should. But you weren’t sure he felt the same way.

One evening, you found yourself in his apartment, working on a project too urgent to put off until tomorrow. You had both fallen into a comfortable rhythm—papers and laptops scattered across the living room floor, the only sound being the clacking of keys and occasional sighs of frustration.

At some point, you had dozed off, head resting on a pile of notes. You woke to the soft rustling of a blanket being draped over you, and when you blinked your eyes open, you caught Ji Pyeong mid-motion, his face unusually soft, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your breath catch.

“You should get some real sleep,” he whispered, awkwardly pulling his hand back like he hadn’t just been caught being gentle.

“Were you… tucking me in?” you teased, your voice still heavy with sleep, making the moment more intimate than it should’ve been.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he mumbled, his ears turning a shade of pink.

The unspoken tension simmered between you, but neither of you addressed it. It was too much to deal with. So, like always, you let the moment pass, though the image of his soft smile lingered.

Everything came crashing down the day Dal Mi showed up at the office. Seeing the way she interacted with Ji Pyeong—how naturally they seemed to fit together, laughing about something you couldn’t hear—hit you in a way you hadn’t expected.

Dal Mi was beautiful, smart, and everything you weren’t. You felt small. It was obvious why Ji Pyeong had never moved on from her. They made sense.

You spent the entire meeting lost in thought, forcing smiles when necessary, contributing only when directly asked. Ji Pyeong’s gaze kept darting toward you, concern etched into his face. You waved it off, but after the meeting, you collapsed at your desk, burying your face in your arms, feeling the weight of your insecurities crashing over you.

A light tap on your shoulder startled you. You looked up, and there he was—Ji Pyeong, leaning over your desk, his brow furrowed.

“You look terrible,” he said, but his tone wasn’t harsh. In fact, it was almost… gentle.

“Thanks,” you muttered, still in a daze.

“Are you sick?” he asked, placing the back of his hand on your forehead without waiting for permission. The warmth of his touch sent a wave of emotion crashing into you, making it hard to think straight.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, though the truth was, you felt awful—physically and emotionally.

“Stop lying,” he said, clicking his fingers in front of your face. “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, trying to find an excuse. “I’m just… tired.”

“Well, let’s get you home,” he said, pulling your chair back without giving you the chance to argue.

“You don’t have to—"

“I’m taking you home,” he insisted, his voice leaving no room for argument. “And don’t bother trying to talk me out of it.”

The next morning, you texted Ji Pyeong, letting him know you wouldn’t be in the office. You kept the message professional, but truthfully, you didn’t want him to see you like this again. It was embarrassing enough that he had seen you looking so defeated yesterday. The last thing you needed was for him to realize how much his presence—his attention—affected you.

What you didn’t expect was for him to show up at your apartment later that day. When the doorbell rang, you opened it, groggy and still in your pajamas, only to see Ji Pyeong standing there, holding a plastic bag filled with medicine and food.

“Ji Pyeong?” you blinked in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“If you’re here to give me more work, I still have ten hours of sick leave left,” you joked weakly, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly, stepping inside. “No, I’m here as Ji Pyeong, not as your boss.”

You let him in, too tired to argue. As you watched him unpack the bag—setting out hot broth, medicine, and even a small dessert—you felt an overwhelming wave of emotion hit you. It was stupid, but seeing him take care of you like this, when you had always been the one to handle things alone, made your chest tighten.

You stood there, staring at the table as tears filled your eyes.

Ji Pyeong noticed immediately, his expression softening. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, wiping away the tears quickly. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m not used to this. Being taken care of.”

His hand hesitated in the air before gently patting your back. “I get it,” he said quietly. “But you don’t have to do everything alone.”

You gave a watery chuckle. “Is it the beef broth? It’s always the beef broth.”

He grinned, his dimple showing. “Yeah, definitely the broth.”

As you sat down to eat, you glanced at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Ji Pyeong… if you keep this up, I might actually fall for you.”

He looked at you, eyes shining with something you hadn’t seen before. “Then fall for me,” he said, his voice steady. “Because I already have.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. “What about… Dal Mi?”

“She’s with Do San,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been over her for a long time.”

More tears spilled down your cheeks, but this time they were tears of relief. Without thinking, you leaned forward and kissed him—on both cheeks, where his dimples rested.

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling lighter than you had in a long time.

Ji Pyeong’s face flushed, his ears turning red as he tried to keep his cool. “I… I don’t know what to do with you.”

You laughed softly. “You could always wait until I’m not sick, and maybe I’ll kiss you properly.”

His face turned even redder as he pulled you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “Yeah… I think I’ll do that.”

Warmth in the Details

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slow Burn Romance, Friendship

Word Count: ~2,500 words

Synopsis: In a lively classroom, you sit next to Kim Mingyu, a classmate shrouded in rumors of being just a pretty face. As you work together on a project, Mingyu’s goofy charm draws you in, and he secretly falls for your kindness. After baking your favorite pastry and receiving your enthusiastic praise, he gains the confidence to shine in a competition, realizing that the true victory lies in the warmth and connection you share.

The classroom buzzed with a comforting, familiar warmth. It wasn’t the heat from the sun streaming through the large windows, nor was it the quiet hum of conversations filling the air. It was something else, something softer. The warmth that came from the people inside it, from shared laughter and the sense that, here, everything was okay. You sat at your desk, tapping your pen idly against your notebook, catching a glimpse of Kim Mingyu out of the corner of your eye.

Mingyu.

If someone asked what you thought about him, you’d probably just shrug and say he was a classmate. That was it. But to everyone else, he was something more. There were whispers about him, as there always seemed to be—gossip and rumors that didn’t quite line up with the boy who sat next to you every day. The athletes around school scoffed at his abilities, some calling him a pretty face, someone who relied on his looks rather than skill. And there was always that undercurrent, the sense that people thought he was cocky, full of himself.

But the Mingyu sitting next to you? He was none of those things. He was goofy, with that boyish charm, always cracking jokes even when they didn’t land. He had this unassuming kindness about him, offering his help when no one asked, showing up when people least expected it.

You treated him like he was just Mingyu. No superstar, no pedestal. You didn’t buy into the gossip because the guy who stumbled over his words sometimes and grinned like a kid when he made a lame pun didn’t fit any of those narratives.

And maybe that’s why, out of all the noise around him, he gravitated toward you.

For Mingyu, you weren’t just a classmate. You were something safe, something steady. In a world where people seemed to have made up their minds about him, you were the exception. Your laugh, your feisty remarks, and the way you lit up a room—it all drew him in like a magnet. He felt the weight lift off his shoulders when he was near you, the pressure to be someone else fading away.

When the teacher announced the group project, calling out pairs, your name followed by his, Mingyu felt a spark of excitement flare up inside him. You glanced his way with a grin, and that was all it took for him to feel like the luckiest guy in the room.

You met at a cozy café after school, surrounded by the scent of fresh pastries and the sound of low chatter. The light streaming in through the windows caught in your hair, and Mingyu found himself distracted as you spoke. You were talking about the project, gesturing animatedly as you explained an idea, but he was too focused on the way you seemed so at ease.

Then he saw it—the smile that spread across your face as you grabbed a pain au chocolat from the plate in front of you, your eyes lighting up with pure joy as you took a bite.

“Oh my God, this is so good!” you said, your voice full of delight. You looked like you had just discovered the world’s greatest treasure in that flaky, chocolate-filled pastry, and Mingyu couldn’t tear his eyes away.

It was in that moment, sitting in a quiet café with you, that something shifted inside him. Your smile was like sunlight, warm and inviting, and it hit him all at once—he wanted to see that smile every day.

He wanted to be the reason for it.

That night, Mingyu couldn’t get the image of you out of his head. He found himself standing in his kitchen, sleeves rolled up, determined to bake. It was a mess. Flour everywhere, chocolate smeared on the counter, and more than a few failed attempts at recreating the pain au chocolat you loved so much. But after hours of trial and error, he finally made a batch that didn’t look half bad.

The next morning, he walked into class carrying a tray of pastries, his heart racing with a nervous energy he wasn’t used to. He handed them out to everyone, trying to act casual, but when he gave you yours, he watched you like a hawk, waiting for your reaction.

You took a bite, your face lighting up instantly. “Mingyu!” you exclaimed, eyes wide. “This is so good, I could die happy!!!”

Your voice carried across the room, loud and dramatic, and Mingyu couldn’t help but laugh. You were always so expressive, so full of life, and it made his heart swell. The other classmates joined in, complimenting him, but your reaction was the only one he cared about. He tried to play it cool, but the grin on his face was too big to hide.

The pastries worked their magic, not just on you, but on the whole class. People started seeing Mingyu differently. They smiled more, joked with him, and slowly, the whispers about him being cocky faded away. He was just Mingyu to them now, too.

But it was the day of his big competition that everything changed.

Mingyu stood on the field, the weight of all the past rumors pressing down on him. He could feel the eyes on him, the doubts lingering in the air. He was stuck in his own head, anxiety creeping in, when suddenly, a voice broke through the noise.

“MINGYUUUUUUU!”

It was you. He looked up, spotting you in the stands, your hands cupped around your mouth as you yelled his name. You weren’t just cheering—you were cheering for him, your voice full of excitement and encouragement. It was like a jolt of electricity through his system, and for a second, everything else faded away. The people, the pressure, the expectations—it all disappeared, leaving just the sound of your voice and the warmth it brought.

His classmates joined in, shouting his name, the support filling the air. And suddenly, Mingyu felt lighter. Like he could do anything.

When he crossed the finish line, winning first place, it wasn’t just about the victory. It was about you, the one who believed in him even when he wasn’t sure he believed in himself. Without thinking, he ran to you, sweeping you up into his arms in the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone. His heart was racing, but not from the competition—from the pure happiness that surged through him.

His classmates rushed over, teasing him as they pulled both of you into a giant group hug. He was red-faced, embarrassed by their teasing, but he didn’t care. He was happy. Giddy, even.

And as he looked down at you, still wrapped in his arms, he realized something: it wasn’t just the competition he had won today. It was you. You were his victory, his warmth in the details of everyday life.