highschool au!minho x fem!best friend!reader (best friends to lovers trope) headcannons?
~~The Month We Became Us~~
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You’re slumped against the lockers, trying to shove your books into your backpack without dropping half of them, when Minho appears out of nowhere. “Need help, or are you going to cry over algebra again?”
You groan. “I swear this math teacher has it out for me. And maybe my life in general.”
Minho smirks and plucks a stray notebook from your arms. “I’ve got you. Algebra and life, apparently.” He bumps your shoulder with his. The way he does it—like it’s nothing—makes your chest feel weird. Warm, fluttery, annoying… kind of like that.
You glare, but he’s already opening the locker beside you, humming like it’s the easiest day of his life. “Seriously, how are you so chill about literally everything?”
He shrugs. “It’s a gift.” Then, quieter, like he’s telling a secret only for you: “Except for the important stuff. That’s where I lose it.”
You blink at him. “Important stuff?”
Minho doesn’t answer. He just hands you your books, then grabs your hand briefly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles in a way that makes your stomach do that stupid flip. “Okay, come on. Lunch before you die from algebra,” he says, pretending nothing happened.
Later, sitting under the big oak tree in the courtyard, he’s arguing about the ridiculousness of cafeteria pizza, gesturing with a chicken nugget like it’s a sword. You laugh so hard you nearly choke, and he pauses mid-sentence to look at you.
“Hey,” he says softly, and your heart stutters. “Don’t ever… not laugh like that. Please.”
You roll your eyes, but your cheeks are warm. “Don’t get sentimental on me now, Minho.”
He smirks—but it’s different, softer, more… serious. And maybe, just maybe, it’s the moment your chest decides it’s done being quiet about how much you like him.
You shove a piece of pizza in your mouth, trying not to choke on your own laughter, and Minho watches you like you’re… something special. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud.
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head. “Why do I even hang out with you?”
You narrow your eyes. “Because deep down, you love me.”
He freezes. For a second, your words hit a little too close to something neither of you are ready to name. Then he smirks, like he’s hiding the fact that you’ve made his heart skip. “Uh… sure. Yeah, that’s definitely why.”
You laugh and throw a nugget at him. He catches it midair, grinning like he’s won the lottery. “See? You can’t even aim properly,” he teases. But there’s a flicker in his eyes—something softer than usual—before he tosses the nugget back at you.
The courtyard is busy, but it feels like you two are the only ones there. Minho leans back against the tree, elbows resting on his knees, watching you like he’s memorizing every little thing: the way your hair falls into your face, how your nose scrunches when you laugh, the little scar on your finger you keep forgetting about.
“You’re really weird,” you say softly.
“Yeah? And you like it,” he shoots back instantly, smirk fully in place, but his voice has that tiny tremor, like he’s trying to act casual and failing.
You freeze. Did he just… flirt? On purpose? Or is your brain reading too much into it?
Minho notices, because he always notices. He grins wider, leaning a little closer. “Or maybe… I just like you. You know, like… more than a best friend.”
You blink. Twice. Then your brain decides to short-circuit. “Wait… what?”
“I said,” he takes a deep breath, “I like you. Like, really like you. You’re the only person I actually want to hang out with, laugh with, annoy forever. And maybe, if you’re not totally grossed out, I’d like… more than best friends.”
Your heart is doing that stupid flip-flop, and suddenly the air is too thick, too warm, too… perfect.
You can’t help it—you laugh. A little nervous, a little giddy, and then: “Minho… are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” he says, leaning closer, just enough that your knees brush together. His thumb brushes across yours and it feels electric. “You can slap me if it’s weird. I won’t even get mad.”
You smile, heart pounding like a drumline. “I… like you too.”
And just like that, the world feels different. The oak tree, the lunch crowd, the goofy cafeteria pizza—it’s all brighter. Because now, somehow, you’re not just best friends.
It’s been a month since you and Minho officially… whatever this is. Official couple-y. And somehow, it feels like you’ve always been together.
You’re sprawled across his bed after school, homework abandoned, his hoodie over your shoulders (again), your head resting against his chest. Minho is scrolling through his phone, but every few seconds, his thumb brushes against yours. No words are necessary—he knows you like the comfort, and you know he likes holding you like this.
“You know,” you murmur, glancing up at him, “I think you’re the softest I’ve ever met.”
Minho snorts, nudging your head gently with his. “I’m soft? I thought I was the ultimate tough guy.”
“You are,” you say, smirking. “But soft in the best ways. Like… you make hoodie pockets feel like safety zones, and you laugh at my dumb jokes, even the really bad ones. And… you always notice when I’m cranky or hungry or stressed. That’s… soft.”
He hums, satisfied, and wraps an arm around you tighter. “I noticed you staring at me during math class the other day,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal.
Your eyes widen. “I—what? That wasn’t—”
“Relax,” he interrupts, grinning. “I like it. You’re cute when you panic.
You groan, swatting him lightly, but you’re laughing. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet… somehow, you keep me around,” he teases, leaning down so his forehead touches yours.
You stay like that for a while, just breathing together. The kind of silence that isn’t awkward but… perfect. Comfortable.
Later, when it’s time to go, he insists on walking you home. You’re leaning on him like it’s natural, your fingers tangled with his. Other people pass by, probably whispering, but you don’t care. With Minho, a month in, the world feels safe and easy.
“Promise me something?” he says suddenly, looking down at you with that grin that makes your heart skip.
“Promise me we stay like this. Weird, goofy, comfortable… always.”
You squeeze his hand. “Promise.”
And just like that, a month of being together has turned into… forever comfort.
It’s the last day of school before summer break, and somehow, even after all the teasing, hand-holding in the halls, hoodie wars, and late-night study sessions, you and Minho are still just… perfectly you.
The courtyard is buzzing with students, backpacks slung over shoulders, but you’ve claimed your usual spot under the big oak tree—the one that saw the start of everything.
Minho sits beside you, casually draping his arm around your shoulders. “So… summer plans?” he asks, though his tone makes it clear he doesn’t actually want you out of his sight.
You grin, leaning into him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Honestly? I was hoping to spend most of it here… with you.”
He smirks, resting his chin on your head. “Good. Because I have zero intention of letting you go anywhere else.”
You laugh softly, feeling the warmth of the sun and his chest beneath your ear. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Yeah,” he says, “but you love me anyway.”
You glance up at him, and for the first time that day, the world seems to pause. His dark eyes are soft, teasing, and completely serious all at once. And in that gaze, you realize… this is it. This is the person you want beside you for all the ordinary days and the extraordinary ones too.
Without thinking, you reach up and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re my impossible,” you whisper.
Minho grins, leaning down so your foreheads touch. “And you’re mine. Forever.”
A summer breeze rustles the leaves above, and the two of you sit under the oak tree, fingers entwined, hearts perfectly synced. No confessions needed—everything you feel has already been said in a month of stolen glances, soft touches, laughter, and quiet moments.
And just like that, your story doesn’t end—it just starts a new chapter. One where best friends became lovers, and the comfort you’ve built together becomes something lasting, unshakable, and utterly yours.
The world keeps moving, school ends, summer comes—but under that oak tree, with Minho by your side, everything feels like home.
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Thank you to the lovely @hyuneskkami for this request!
Also my apologies for waiting so long😭😭 cause I forgot to post this cause it was in my drafts :(but tysm for the request!
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