Minho Imagines (Minho X Reader)

All My Might

FROM: TUMBLR
BY: DEDEIMAGINES

The sounds of the gladers shouting your name echoed off the high stone walls, your brows furrowing as you make your way out of the medjack tent quickly. Your panicked eyes search the open field for the source of the yelling, seeing Newt and Thomas waving their arms like madmen in the air. Jogging your way over to them, you could just barely make out the body lying unconscious in the grass, it was Minho.

It felt as though your whole world came tumbling down in a matter of minutes, there was so much blood. It covered Thomas's hands and clothes, staining the grass around Minho's chest and his skin. Your eyes were wide in horror as you looked over him, dropping to the floor to put pressure on wound.

"I need uh, cloth and something to clean this with. Oh and get everything we need to stitches, now!" You shout, not watching the two gladers sprinting away to follow your orders. Your focus was on Minho and his bleeding cut, on his shallow breathing, on trying to not to cry.

"Hey Minho, can you hear me?" You speak calmly, sniffling a bit as you brush some of his hair away from his forehead.

His eyes flutter closed for a split second, your heart dropping to your stomach. Thomas and Newt are crouched on the other side of his body, eyes wide and hands shaking.

"Y-yeah, I can-can hear you..." His voice is weak and wavering, you try and blink back the tears as the two gladers drop off the supplies to you.

There is nothing but Minho's shaky breath that filled the tense silence, your hands grabbing various items to clean his deep wound. You wipe away the blood surrounding the cut, trying to see how much damage was actually done. Pouring alcohol directing on the wound, you expected more a reaction out of him. Maybe a groan or a twitch, his stomach tensing or hands clenching by his side. But there was nothing.

"Minho?" Your eyes dart up to his face, seeing the relaxed expression and his parted lips. You immediately went into panic mode.

"Hey, I feel like I'm gripping with all my might and you're not even lifting a finger." You try to joke, a forced smile making its way onto your lips as you stitch up his wound quickly.

Placing a cloth over the newly stitched gash, you watch some gladers carry Minho into a tent. You look down at your blood stained hands, tears finally spilling from your eyes as you go to keep Minho company.

"Y/N, wait." Thomas whispers, pulling on your hand a bit to stop you from going any further.

You could see the tears in his eyes as well, his nose scrunching up a bit and his brows furrowing. His mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to decide on what to say. Instead he just pulls you into a hug, holding you tight as if to say he was sorry.

"He'll be okay..."

"I hope so."