Lee Minho Fluff - Blog Posts

hi green !! i’ve been a quiet enjoyer of your works and i finally grew the courage to make a request i hope that’s okay !!

what would puppy love with lee know look like ? if it’s with a male reader, that would be great ! thank you !

PUPPY LOVE— lee minho

스트레이 키즈 ( 리노 ) x male reader genre. fluff warnings. it's gay, the gays get in trouble at school therefore minho gets in trouble at home, gay, more gay, they're in high school and in love and it's them against the world, also it’s mostly written from minho’s pov rating. everyone word count. 1.0k summary. in which high school lee minho is so madly in love with you that he's willing to follow you anywhere, anytime.

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Puppy-Love-Minho who would wake up before the sun was even up so he could be the first to see you when you arrived at school, falling asleep on his desk while he waited. He would always look away sheepishly when he would wake up to find you watching him with twinkling eyes, laughing lightly. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who would follow you into the faculty break room with his heart beating in his throat while you rummaged around to see if you could find anything of interest. He would’ve never done something that could earn him a scolding, though because you suggested it, he agreed to be the lookout while simultaneously swooning at the goofy smirk you wore while you found love notes from teachers by the coffee machine. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who, in the terrifying realization that the well-known strict math teacher was making her way into the faculty break room, grabbed you by the wrist without a word before bolting out of the room while you stumbled and tripped behind him. The shouting from your teacher being drowned out by the crazed giggles coming out of both of your mouths as you continued to run as fast as you possibly could while trying not to fixate too much on the fact that he was still holding your wrist. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who would pull you into one of the stalls of the boys’ bathroom to finally rest from running, having you stand on the toilet together though still huddled — your legs becoming a tangled mess as you both panted and laughed breathlessly, trying to calm the loud drums of your hearts. It was a matter of seconds before you both really noticed how close together your faces were, your lips a hair’s width away from touching his. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who would turn away shyly, hoping to whatever gods existed that you couldn’t hear the way his heart beat erratically at such a scene. His ears burned red as the blood crept up and pooled into his cheeks all the while his hands trembled. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who almost passed out when the principal of your school suddenly opens the bathroom stall in which you’d both hidden in, his face contorted in anger as he pointed his finger towards the exit. Although Minho could only imagine the amount of trouble he’ll find himself in at home, he couldn’t help but be guilt-free at the sight of your amused grin that made you look as though you thought this whole ordeal was funny. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who received the scolding of his life the second he stepped foot inside of his home, very much as he’d predicted, and got sent to his room without the privilege of leaving unless it was to use the bathroom. Even still, he replayed the morning’s events in his head with a lovesick smile on his face. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who almost yells out when he hears a rock hit his bedroom window, finding you standing down in his backyard with a stupid grin on your face when he finally grows the courage to peer outside. His heart doing somersaults in his chest at the sight, at the thought of his parents finding you standing there as well — at the thrill of it all.  

Puppy-Love-Minho who can almost envision his own funeral as he manages to sneak past his parents’ bedroom to meet you outside, body tensed as he prays once again that nothing goes wrong. He can only breathe once you both make it outside the property, walking down the neighborhood — only then did he finally ask you what the hell you thought you were doing. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who huffs as you laugh at his anxiety, shoving you lightly though he had to look away to hide the smile that threatened to slip up. He listens intently as you apologize sincerely for getting him in trouble, and feels as though he might pass out as you pull out a kitty keychain out of your pocket and offer it to him. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who forgets to breathe when you step forward as you hand him his gift, keeping your eyes on his as you do so. Although he panicked at the thought of anyone in his neighborhood seeing him kiss another boy, he couldn’t pull away for the small hope that you would press your lips against his. 

Puppy-Love-Minho whose breath absolutely leaves him when he notices you slowly leaning in, your eyes on his trembling lips.

Puppy-Love-Minho who sees your short hesitation as you look up into his eyes, trying to read him, and closes the small gap between your lips in a small burst of adrenaline. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who could almost hear imaginary fireworks exploding in the background as his blood pumped through his veins at record speed. His hands find your waist so that he could pull himself closer to you in order to deepen the kiss, feeling himself becoming bolder by the second. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who feels your teeth against his lips as you laugh softly, somehow triggering shame to creep up as the weight of both of your actions finally settles.

Puppy-Love-Minho who immediately softens when you grab ahold of both of his hands and tell him that it was okay, that you didn’t mean to laugh — you just couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he felt the same way about you. He laughs at you, and tells you he’s the one who should be thanking his lucky stars for reciprocating his feelings. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who doesn’t want to let you go when you try to say goodbye; though he eventually does with a sigh when you promise you’d see him tomorrow at school.

Puppy-Love-Minho who doesn’t move from his spot until you were completely out of sight, waving at you every single time you turned to see if he’d gone back inside. Even after you were long gone he remained there, barely able to process the amount of thrill the last twenty four hours had brought to him. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who almost throws up when he realizes he needs to sneak back inside without his parents noticing, and he prays to his lucky stars that he can avoid getting caught. 

posted: 06 • 29 • 2024

💬 a note from green;

Thank you so much for this request! It was so much fun to write honestly but that might be because i accidentally got stoned out of my mind, and I really hope you enjoy this! Also, thank you for enjoying my other works, it really makes my day when I hear people tell me that. Hope to hear from you again!

( 🏷️ ) permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx

did i just binge-read your stray kids writings? absolutely i did! i just wanted to say that i loved every word, especially in chan’s. i’m also chubby so that really had me sobbing at three a.m. because it just hit home. so i really wanted to thank you for that.

while i’m here though, would it be crazy to make a request? if it’s okay with you, i was wondering if you could maybe write something with lee know? like, him just being affectionate and playful with the reader but also being so unbelievably comforting. really i don’t have a specific scene in mind, he’s just my bias and i love your mind, so.

🪲 green.

Sick Day

Pairing: Lee Minho x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff, comfort

Warnings: Slight description of being sick? I don't go into too much detail, though, so don't worry if that's something that squicks you out!

Words: 754

Summary: You catch a cold, and like the wonderful boyfriend he is, Minho does everything he can to make you feel better!

A/n: Okay, first of all, thank you so much!! 😭💝 I've been in a bit of a writing funk lately and your kind words really hit home for me. And thank you for the request! I love when I get requests. I hope you enjoy reading!

Honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if Minho had a secret third eye when it came to you. He could sense when you were down, sometimes before you even realized it yourself. And every time, without fail, Minho shows up to be there for you in any way you need. As for today, the reason you weren't in the greatest mood was simply because you had a light cold.

"Love~ do you want some soup? I'm making miso if you want any," he spoke up from the kitchen, the offer sounding more than enticing with how sore your throat is feeling at the moment. "Yes please-" you managed to respond before you began coughing up a lung. Or at least that's what it felt and sounded like.

Before long, Minho was walking into the living room to set the steaming bowl of soup in front of you, a small smile on his face. One of his favorite ways to show love is by cooking for the people he cares about, so he was more than happy to prepare this for you. "Here you are, my sick baby."

You smiled up at him from your spot on the couch, body wrapped up in a warm throw blanket and eyes slightly teary from the sinuses. "Thank you, bub. I'm sorry for getting my sick all over your stuff, you know I could've just stayed at my place. I don't want you getting sick because of me."

He practically scoffed at your words, looking at you as if you said something so ridiculous. "As if I would let my favorite person suffer alone," he said dramatically before plopping down next to you. "Now let me nurse you back to health. Say, ah~" You almost cringed when he held up the spoon to your mouth to feed you, but you knew he meant well, so you opened without a word.

He proceeded to spoon feed you all of the soup, insisting on it because 'you look so comfy in the blanket, I wouldn't want you to move any more than you have to.' You simply shook your head at him with a smile as you ate the food he prepared.

"Let's put on a movie. Are you in the mood to cry or laugh? I guess we could also put on a horror movie if you wanna be scared, but I know you're a wimp, so maybe not." You gave him an offended look, as if he just called you ugly (which he would never). "Uh, rude! I'm not a wimp!"

"You got scared when we watched Poltergeist," he stated with a 'seriously?' look, which just made you roll your eyes and smack his arm playfully. "Shut up..." He laughed and gently wrapped you up in a hug, burying his face in your neck, despite your protests you gave him about him getting too close.

"You're so cute, I can't help it! How about we put on a horror movie and you can hold onto me if you're scared. Does that sound good?" You go to lightly hit him again, but he catches your hand before you can, softly kissing your wrist.

"You're... so annoying, quit that," you mumbled, looking away from his gaze. Even though you and Minho have been dating for a while now, his actions still bring butterflies to your stomach. It was like he had an affect on you, and you don't doubt that he will always make you feel this way, even fifty years into the future.

He smiled and leaned in, placing one of the most feather-light kisses to your nose. You told him he couldn't kiss your mouth, so he respected your decision and opted for the next best thing. He always loved giving you nose kisses. He said it's because you always scrunch it up when he does it, and he thinks it's adorable.

Soon you were both cuddled up, watching the horror movie Minho put on. You weren't fully paying attention as Soonie, Doongie, and Dori were now cuddling up against you and Minho. You felt safe and warm in this cuddle pile with your little family, and you could already feel yourself getting back to good health.

One of his hands slowly began running through your hair, further soothing you into a state of comfort and warmth. "I love you, baby," he whispered softly. You could feel your heart swell, a small smile forming on your lips. "I love you, too, bub." You melted into his touch further, sleep soon taking over your body.

One of my favorites🥰 I really love this 😩✋🏼

a/n: training minho to reach for you when he is hurt instead of being an angry little guy (inspired by this racha log clip)

you’ve seen it a few times now - minho stubbing his fragile toe against a corner and freezing, or bumping his elbow on a table and hissing slowly through his breath, his eyes closed and his head thrown back as if he is trying to control himself from combusting. him curling up on the couch with his legs pressed close to his chest, hands looking impossibly small where they’re clasped around his knees to hold them close, a deep scowl on his face completing the picture.

he seems angry to the average person, like he’s somehow mad about being hurt and is stewing in that fury while the pangs of pain evaporate from his system. you know better, though. you know he’s not angry, but frustrated. a little annoyed at himself because all he wants to do is curl up in someone’s arms and have them kiss his wound better like a tiny little kitten, but he can’t do that. because he’s minho, and minho’s complete brand is acting tough. sure, everyone knows hes a pure softie on the inside, but he can’t really go around showing it can he?

you’ve elected to convince him that he can. 

it starts when his morning coffee splashes on the back of his hand and he hisses, glaring down at his hand like he wanted to chop it off (or something else equally as violent). usually you’d let him calm down on his own, knowing his faux anger goes as quickly as it comes, but today you swoop into his space and cradle his hand in both of yours. you press a gentle kiss to the spot, coffee staining your lips as you meet his eyes warmly. you guide his hand to the sink and let cool water run across it, rubbing your thumb against his skin in what you hoped was a comforting way. 

“okay?” you ask once you’re satisfied with the temperature of his skin, wrapping a fluffy towel around his hand to dry it. he just blinks at you for a moment, head tilted so adorably that you feel a scream bubbling under your chest that you have to contain. he’s so cute. you finish making his coffee for him while he continues to stare at you with wide eyes, not faltering once until you press a kiss to his cheek on your way out of the kitchen. 

the second time is when he’s come home from dance practice, a little sweaty and tired and very sore all over. he’s grumbling about his muscles hurting under his breath and you can barely hear it, but you know him well enough to know that his aborted movements and sharp little exhales mean that he’s in pain and doesn’t want to say it. the way he sat himself on the sofa instead of showering first was also a sign - he liked to be clean, especially before relaxing. 

you wince in sympathy, knowing the exact feeling of muscle pain from exercise and while it comes with the benefit of self-satisfaction it almost isn’t worth the all-encompassing ache that comes right after. he reaches for his water but stops halfway, cringing at the stretch in both his arm and his abdomen, and falls back against the couch in defeat. you take pity on him, picking up his water and twisting open the cap for him, even going as far as to hold it up to his lips for him as he takes in greedy gulps. when he’s satisfied, he pulls back and fixes you with a suspicious look, like he’s asking what do you want with his eyes. 

you just smile at him in return, giving his upper arms a gentle massage with your hands as you lean at an awkward angle to press a flutter of kisses to his stomach. he’s a little dazed when you finish your ritual, melted back into the cushions with a glazed over look in his eyes, and you cuddle up next to him with a satisfied smile. 

“better?” you ask, letting your finger trail over his stomach in the pattern your lips had just made.

“yeah,” he breathes out, brow furrowing a little in confusion, thinking too hard. 

the third instance is perhaps the most challenging, because it happens in public. the street you’re walking down hand in hand isn’t the busiest, but there are bustling around corners and crossing streets. you’re not at all surprised when minho straightens up in excitement and pulls you to a tree at the end of a sidewalk, a tiny bundle of fur curled up underneath it. minho pulls out a little tube of cat treats from his jacket pocket, something he seems to have an endless supply of, and kneels down next to the small kitten.

the thing is, cats love minho. everyone knows that they do, it’s in his blood. you’re sure that he has cat genes somewhere in his ancestry. 

but, as the both of you discover, this particular cat does not love minho. he leans towards the poor thing, making soft noises with his mouth as he holds the opened treats out, and the cat lets out an angry hiss and swipes at him with its little paw. he lets out a yelp, falling back on his haunches in surprise and his betrayed gaze trails after the kitten as it scampers away. 

he raises the palm of his face to his hand, decorated with lines of angry red that don’t look too bad but you know they probably sting something fierce. he leaves the cat treats abandoned under the tree as he stands and you prepare yourself for the anger to set in but - it doesn’t come. instead, he looks up at you with wet, wide eyes and a trembling pout and your composure breaks.

you swoop in beside him and take his hand, blowing lightly onto his palm before pressing a light kiss to the corner of it. he rests his head on your shoulder in an uncharacteristic display of public skinship, not caring one bit of the passersby behind the both of you as he soaks in your comfort. you have to hide your shock - you didn’t have to come to him, he asked for you. he sought you out in his pain, didn’t get adorably angry, and leaned towards you. this wound was different, this one was personal, a betrayal of his brethren creating a mix of physical and emotional pain that  served as the perfect opportunity for your conditioning to run its course. 

with the way it’s going, you’ll have him perfectly trained in no time.