TMR imagines (and preferences)

Warning: Slight Angst (and my weird a$$ sense of humor)
Info:
You, the keeper of the Med-jacks, is having a very boring and uneventful day. That is until Minho returns to the glade injured, and refuses to be treated by anyone except you. (Bc That's just Minho and his stubbornness 😜🤠)
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You're sitting at a small table in the in the med-jack hut. After you lazily organized and reorganized multiple of the various baskets of medical supplies. Being the primary medic for a group of just over 50 teenage boys has kept you on your toes, but today was different, very slow and quiet. Sliding the basket of gauze into place for what felt like the 100th time, you let your shoulders slump. Running your hands over your face as you couldn't ignore the sleepiness tugging at your eyelids. The sun has started it's decent down towards the west walls, but you hadn't treated a single person. By some miracle, even your most frequent patients (Builders, slicers, and Track hoes) had maintained being completely injury free. You pushed your chair back and walked out of the hut and into the bright mid-day sun. Stretching as you hoped the sunshine and fresh air would wake you. A short walk later, you decided to abandon your  plans, and stride over to the hammocks for am extremely needed, rare mid-day nap
-TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO BY MAMA NEWT-
Your slumber had been entirely peaceful until you awoke suddenly. (😭😡) It took your sleep-riddled brain to process what had happened that caused you to wake so jarringly. Hearing the sound of boots against the earth and distant shouts, you cursed silently under your breath. So much for a slow and quiet day.

Making your way out of the hammock and into the open glade, you tried to piece together what was happening. Your fellow gladers were scattered across the north doors, the air vibrating with panic. Despite the chaos, three voices, one sounding pained, were cutting clear above everyone else's. You couldn't make out the words from your distance but something told you to hurry yourself over there. Your walk turned into a sprint as adrenaline starts pumping its way through you. Pushing your way to the front of the crowd, your heart dropped to your stomach.

Like (almost) always, the runners, your runner, had returned just before sunset. Except this time Minho looked like hell. His clothes were filthy and ripped, while his exposed skin was covered in an assortment of cuts and already(somehow)-formed bruises. Worst of all, he was incoherent and frantic, evading Newt and Thomas's worried attempts to calm their best friend (bestieboo 🥰😘) down. Your body froze as your brain screamed for you to run to him. Luckily, a rather tired and out-of-breath Newt caught sight of you and sighed a relived "Finally!" before leaving Thomas to bargain with Minho. Newt Hurriedly made his way over to you and wasted no time catching you up on things.

"There you are!!"

"We tried to get Clint and Jeff to look him over, but then he woke up and had us chasing him around the entire shucking glade. He's been yelling for you ever since."

Without another word, Newt pulled you into the open area Thomas and Minho were occupying. Thomas said something to Minho that sounded along the lines of "See? I told you she was coming!" before he stood and moved next to you.

"Something happened out there but he won't.. or can't tell us what."

Thomas warned silently before walking off over where Newt stood off to the side. But you couldn't quite hear him  over the sound of your heart breaking as Minho's eyes met yours. In less than a second, Minho jumped onto his feet and rushing towards you. His crazed look changed to one of total peace (✌️☮️) as his gaze locked on you. You paced forward and met him halfway, pulling him into your arms. You stayed strong as he did all but all but melt into your touch. Minutes later, you begrudgingly forced yourself to pull away, scanning his face for any injuries while your thumbs brushed over his cheekbones.
Thankfully, Thomas, Newt, and a few others took the time you spent calming Minho down to disperse the crowd, allowing you to shuffle Minho into the closeby med-hut without a problem.

- TIMESKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY MINHO'S SASSYNESS (IF THAT'S A WORD)-

Minho sat on the table with you standing between his legs while you bandaged him up. He had his shoulders slumped and his strong, muscular arms hung loosely around your waist. Exhaustion had fully taken over him. To put on as much as a bandage was harder than anything else you've ever done. Yet he sat here perfectly while you fussed over his wounds. Dabbing an alcohol-dipped cotton ball over his last untreated cut, you tried to swallow down the worry slowly building inside.

"What happened out there?" You asked before your mind could stop you. The look in his eyes grew distant as a stiff silence filled the air. Making quick work of applying the last bandage, you reach your hand up and gently stroke the short, dark hair at the back of his neck.

Seconds stretched into minutes as his mind recounted whatever he'd encountered the maze.

"It was just supposed to be a normal run just like always-"

he started, his voice barely above a whisper

"-and the grievers they... t-they"

His voice trailed off as a protective rage exploded inside of your chest.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here."

You cooed, allowing him to take a deep breath before you continued.

"How can I help you? What can I do for you?"

"I just... I just..."

Before your mind even registered what was happening, his lips were against yours. Your heart simultaneously raced and stopped completely. Kissing Minho was always electrifying (⚡️🌩), but this one, this one was different. This kiss was heavy, feverish, and protective. Sinking into the kiss fully, your hands traveled up his sides and around his shoulders, careful to avoid the areas you had just bandaged. His previously relaxed hold on your waist, turned into his hands working their way under your shirt to grasp and kneed at your hips firmly. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, the action causing you both to moan softly. This only adds fuel to his fire. Pulling you impossibly closer to him, your hands move down and across his ribs. That's when you feel him wince

"Sh!t, I'm sorry." you whisper to him.

You pull away, earning a low whine from Minho. He rests his forehead against yours breathlessly.  Thoughts fill your mind with a cornucopia of emotions, but his grip on you never falters.

"I'm just a little sore. That's all" He replies unconvincingly. Your expression sours, and he sighs.

"Y/n, you and I both know that it'll take a lot more than this to get rid of me. I'm fine, really."

When you hesitate to respond, he wastes no time to pull you back towards him. This time, into a bone-crushing hug. One of his arms securing around your waist while the other rubs your back slowly in reassurance. As much as you fight it, you can't hell melting under his strong yet gentle touch. Your head drops onto his shoulder and he smiles. The position not allowing him to place a kiss on your cheek before he leans further into your embrace

"Promise me one thing Minho"

"Hm?"

"Promise me you won't get stuck in the maze"

"I promise"

-Hermioneswife

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