#Tmr fanfic

[heliads]

we both know what happened to you - newt

Ben is exiled. The Glade doesn't take it well.

masterlist

It’s easy to be quiet in the mornings when it doesn’t matter. Simple days are for simple words, fading phrases, and long spells of silence. On days like today, though, after nights like last night, silence feels like the only option. No one can meet each other’s gaze. And no one wants to talk when they can still hear the echoes of Ben’s last desperate scream echoing in their mind. 

You feel a certain kind of restlessness when you’ve killed your friend. It gnaws at you like mad. Like how Ben was mad until you shoved him in the Maze and let him die. You can’t stop thinking about it, turning over that awful moment in your head again and again, unable to let the wound close in peace. He’d begged you to let him live, all of you, again and again until he was already half inside the Doors and knew it was over. You’ve known him for months. Many knew him longer still, yet all of you are complicit.

This is the Maze, after all. This is where you’re all born again with no memories and hardly even a name, and this is where half of you die. Stephen, cut in half after trying to climb down the Box Hole. Nick, his grave just barely green over with moss. And now Ben, hair like corn silk, who ran too far too fast, dead before he got to twenty. You’ll be there soon, maybe. You and Newt and everyone you’ve ever cared about. The Maze is where scientists kill the kids they raised. Birds kicked from the nest. Someone’s smoothing out your feathers now and readying you for the plunge, but all you can do is stare at the empty place among the straw and twigs where one of you had been just seconds before.

You’re staring at the walls of the Maze, lying flat on your stomach in the grass. There’s a stone jutting uncomfortably into your left elbow, but your chin’s resting on top of your laced fingertips and you’re not sure you have the strength to keep yourself from falling into the dirt while you push the smooth rock away. You wonder if Ben ever kicked that stone, if he ever tripped over it on his jog into the Maze and out again. You wonder if he stayed by the Doors when he died, or if he tried to run his old routes one last time, operating on instinct alone.

A shadow passes in front of you, darkening the pear green knives into something like the needles of the pine trees. A boy comes with the shadow, free of charge, and he slumps down next to you, pausing briefly to slide the stone away from your left elbow before lying down on his back. You turn your head, placing your right cheek on your interlaced fingers to stare at him.

Newt has always been beautiful in the sunlight. Even now, in this uncertain gray somewhere between overcast and clear skies, his eyes catch the faint bars of sunshine and turn from brown to gold. With a pang of agony deep between your ribs, it reminds you of the blond crown of Ben’s hair. You wonder if his eyes will ever shatter scarlet like Ben’s temples did too, at the end, when he hurt himself so badly he never came back, and your eyelids flinch shut to stop yourself from seeing it.

When you manage to open your eyes again, a cloud has passed over the sun, coaxing Newt’s eyes back to a woody brown, and it’s okay to look at him again. He’s looking at you too now, the lines on his face deepening with regret. You’re mirrors, the two of you, perfect pictures of guilt and misery reflecting back again and again until you’re certain you’re going to dissolve into each other for good.

“It’s not your fault,” Newt whispers. His throat is dry, and his voice cracks on most words.

“It’s not your fault either,” you murmur back. “Not Minho’s, not Alby’s. These things happen.”

Newt’s lips press together, and you know he’s going through the same swoops of grief as he remembers every Glader you’ve lost over the past few years.

“You know, I remember when he just started out as a Runner,” Newt says quietly. “Stupid shank. He was terrible at directions but he tried so damn hard that he actually fixed his own shuck memory. You should have seen him smile the first time he got a route right without one of us having to correct him. Could have powered the sun.”

He sighs, a sob trapped in the sound. To distract him, you ask, “Why’d you let him stay on as a Runner if he kept getting lost? Wouldn’t it be dangerous?”

Newt looks up at the sky, remembering. “We didn’t have many Runners in the early days. We had to take what we could get. Besides, Nick was dead set that it was better for morale if people weren’t letting the Runners quit so soon. He was early in his days as first-in-command, so we wanted to believe him. Ben got better anyway. Soon he was just as good as any of us.”

Newt’s voice trails off a little, and you know him well enough to guess what he’s thinking– if they had switched Ben out anyway, maybe he wouldn’t have been in the Maze, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten Stung, and maybe he wouldn’t have tried to kill Thomas. Maybe he wouldn’t have been Exiled. Maybe he’d still be here, and you wouldn’t be lying here trying to suppress this invisible wound bleeding out both of you without spilling a single drop of blood.

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat.

“It’s no one’s fault,” Newt says listlessly. “That’s official protocol for when someone gets exiled, you know. Nick made that klunk up too. Said people knew the rules, so if they broke ‘em, it was on their shoulders, not ours.”

“Doesn’t explain why I feel like I should have saved him, though,” you mutter.

Newt nods in agreement, expression tired. “We’re going to get through this,” he says dully. “Same way we got through every other friend we lost. We’re going to pick ourselves up and we’re going to move on. We’ll stop thinking about him.”

“No, we won’t,” you say, and continue before Newt can interrupt. “We’re never going to forget Ben, and it would be awful not to. We’re just going to stop feeling guilty, that’s all. We’ll think about Ben as Ben, not how he was after he got stung.”

“Is that fair to Ben?” Newt asks. “If we ignore what happened to him? I’d be mad, I think. Feels like we’re cheating.”

You let out a long breath. “When you think about Ben, what comes to mind? Your gut instinct, I mean. Not the first awful thing about the Doors shutting on him, but what Ben really is to you. Is it the thing we had to strap to the bed in the Med-Jack hut when he was so strung out that he was hardly human at all? Or is it the shuck kid who kept making too many left turns and followed you and Minho everywhere?”

Newt closes his eyes, half in agony, like he’s begging for strength from someone who isn’t listening. “Runner Ben. Not him when he was sick. That’s Ben to me.”

“Exactly,” you say. “That’s our Ben. That’s what matters. He wasn’t Ben at the end. Ben would never hurt us.”

And Ben would never beg for you to save him. He would never look at the Maze like a bad dog, terrified, and he would never stand there for so long once he was past the Doors, as if he had forgotten the way again.

Newt reaches out and takes your hand, gripping your fingers almost painfully, his eyes still squeezed shut. “Promise me, Y/N. If something happens, if I get stung or if I– if I– again– Tell me you’ll do the same for me. You’ll remember me as me.”

You choke back a sob. “Nothing’s going to happen, Newt.”

He squeezes your hand again, insistent. “You heard Ben. He was saying all kinds of stuff, saying the world out there was terrible. If it does, you have to promise– you have to promise–”

He’s manic and terrified in a way that shocks you. Newt is the calm one, always has been, except that one time that terrified you just as bad as this. If he isn’t in control, then you’ll have be that for him.

“I promise,” you say as calmly as you can. “You’ll always be my Newt. Always.”

He relaxes suddenly in your grasp, still as death. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat.

He pulls you close to him, your head tucked against his collarbone, heart to heart and rib to rib. The sun warms you both, dappling skin and hair and clothes. It’s going to be a while until you stop hearing Ben’s last scream when you’re locked in sleep. It’s going to be a while before you remember how to go about living like usual again. If there’s one comfort in all of this, at least, it’s that you won’t be alone. With Newt, you never will be.

maze runner tag list: @blondsauduun, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss, @bonesnplywood, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver, @il0vebeingdelulu

all tags list: @wordsarelife, @supervoldejaygent

[noelan1]

"i really hate people who read fanfictions with their favorite fictional characters! They are creepy..."

Bitch what.

[ashley-foster-13]

What TMR characters are like during sex

Newt:

really passionate, always making sure you're not in pain and feel good

by feeling good he means really, really good. he wants every time to be the best

during your first time, you have to guide him through some things. he's a little embarrassed of his inexperience, but you tell him it's okay

it was even fun explaining some... stuff

groans "fuck" in low voice in your ear

his accent is thick

his hair is messy as shuck

making love with him is very emotional

he's top most of the time, but once you asked to be the top, both of you liked the new experience much

can't stand it when you're teasing. he's squirming under your touch and is quite audible all of a sudden

he sometimes loses his mind and might go a little to rough, but you like it. he never causes you any pain

when he does, though, he's panicking as if the griever ran into your room. he stops immediately when he hears your voice in pain and asks if you're okay

apologizes hundreds of times after that, sealing every "sorry" with a kiss

is super. shuking. shy. when you want to give him head and tries to talk you out of it. one time when he's to caught up in pleasure, you start licking his dick, this time he lets you

thanks you after that with the same ;)

can be either super shy or super bold, which surprises you. both sides are awesome

he thinks good aftercare is a must

cuddles you after that, whether instantly asleep or vice versa, staying awake until you sleep, playing with your fingers

touching you is a gift

Thomas

is a lost puppy at first

catches up quickly, turning up much more experienced than you both thought

he is really loud, so you're used to covering his mouth with a hand

takes it slow, memorising the curves of your body and nourishing every precious moment

makes sure to say how much he loves you, how beautiful you are

he's huge

shower sex

loves trying new positions

but never does anything without your permission

sometimes is overly careful, because he doesn't want to hurt you

when you tell him that, he rails you like never before

you have trouble walking the next day, but you reassure him it's worth it

wearing his t shirts after

having sex in bed, then going to shower, and ending up shucking there once again

fall asleep with his head on your shoulder, him caressing your arm gently and mumbling words of love to each other

Minho

has been waiting forever to make out with you

is eager, but attentive. makes sure both of you get as much pleasure as possible, but never crosses the line

praise sex when you confide in him about your insecurities

"you don't see how beautiful you are"

you have to ask him manymanymany times to be the bottom at least for once

he loved it more than you did

asks you to do it more often

teasing each other is always an option

both of you being really quiet not to wake anyone up

getting surprised when one time he lets out a loud moan. he's kinda embarrassed about, so he makes you moan, too

imagine getting out of shower naked and slowly making your way to where he sits on the bed

he's mesmerized

once you told him to stop because it became kind of painful. he stopped immediately, kissed away you're tears and apologized a lot. you talked a lot after it, then you decided you both had to finish. he trusted your word to tell him if it's too much, and so, really, really carefully you made out until you came simultaneously

there was another time when you hurt him. you digged your nails in his back right where he got a deep scratch from his run. as an apology, you gave him a massage afterwards, avoiding red scratches. you were really embarrassed, but he told you it was all right

Gally

being rough most of the time

making you moan his name. loud

but you don't want others to hear you, so usually it's in the deadheads or somewhere private, when out of the maze

him whispering dirty things in your ear

him whispering cute things in your ear

him always on top

quickies is not something you enjoy, but sometimes you need sex but have no time, so it works

is firmly against anything that might be uncomfortable or painful for you

he only does something if you insist and prove that everything will be okay

hickeys, but not somewhere people will see

respects you more than anyone

doesn't like heads. nope

him being so quiet you sometimes have to ask if he's finished

if he didn't, you'll help him with your hand

he enjoys these moments sometimes even more than the sex itself

hugging you tight afterwards

"love you, lady"

Brenda

adorable

she isn't ashamed of nothing, that makes you feel more free in your actions

her giving you head is so professional you wonder if she graduated a sex school with excellence

she probably has

but your sex is never dirty. you make love, not just fuck each other

she loves you so much and makes sure you're okay with every move she does

it makes you feel so appreciated you always show her how much you love her back

anything to do with pain is a huge no-no for you two

jorge caring for you as much as brenda. he's happy for you two

giving each other tons of compliments, especially about being as hot as the Scorch itself

honestly i believe this is one of the healthiest relationships in the whole franchise

Harriet

wild. both of you

hair pulling

a little too rough sometimes. she might make you cry

you take revenge by teasing her so much it hurts

none of you mad because of anything

one day you just looked at each other, silently walked into her hut and just immediately started the thing

being open about it with everyone

calming her down when she has a huge breakdown, resulting in another make out session

wearing each others clothes after

walking naked around each other

her being the bottom is just adorable

whimpering underneath you

sweet words once you're finished laying down

aris teasing you

you teasing aris

threesome with sonya. she was suspicious about the idea, but it turned out as amazing one

Sonya

likes to keep the atmosphere light and jokes around sometimes

you giggling us the most amazing sound, in her opinion

flipping each other over many times and unexpected

soft moans escaping her thin lips

her silent screaming during orgasms

brushing your cheek

compliments

teasing under the table

her wearing fancy underwear to impress you

you being shy when she touches your core the first time

she's more dirty than she seems

much, much more

it takes time for you to get used to it

though she doesn't expect you to take the next step and start fingering her

sex after huge fights

talking dirty jokes all day long until the evening: both of you wet and desperate

one time is never enough for you

cleaning each other up afterwards is so cute and makes both of you feel cared for and loved and is so important

choking

hickeys

spanking lightly as a joke

Aris

you didn't expect anything from aris but shyness

he knew what to do, but was so uncertain about it you actually had to ask if he really wanted you

turned out he was simply freaking out

you had to guide his movements sometimes to show that he could go on

in awe of the beauty of your body

is ticklish

whimpers under every touch of yours

is really loving and caring the whole time

always slow. but it gives you more time to love each other

has this devilish look sometimes, and always catches you by surprise when rails you as hard as never before

but not too hard

and it only happens after a while, when you both got used to nakedness and intimacy

[brattyvox]

★ GALLY’S GIRL — MxF.

NAVIGATION — MASTERLIST // Inbox to be on Taglist!

Thomas has just arrived at the Glade, and only days after his arrival, a girl is introduced, and the first person who catches her eye is Gally.

GENRE ★ Fluff if you squint?

PAIRING ★ Fem reader x Gally

WARNINGS ★ Reader is implied to be injured, nothing serious though, Gally’s a bit of an asshole, reader kind of replaces Teresa? Idk, you’re Teresa in this case, reader is of age.

Word Count — 2.94k

My first ever fic on tumblr, lol.. i hope u guys like it :))

In the early dawn, the glade was alive with the hum of activity. Thomas, still new to the group, was already finding his place among the other boys. They moved together, each knowing their role in the daily routine that kept this place thriving. The scent of cooking fires mingled with the dew-laden grass as the sun began to peek over the towering walls that surrounded them.

The sky above was a canvas of pinks and oranges, the light dancing off the leaves of the trees that grew in an orderly fashion around the clearing. It was as if nature itself had laid out a path for them to follow, a silent guide in this otherwise mysterious world. The air was cool and fresh, hinting at the secrets the day would soon reveal.

Gally took a deep breath, feeling the tension that lingered just beneath the surface of everything. Everyone else seemed to ignore it, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen. He watched as the runners returned from their early morning laps, sweat shining on their skin, muscles flexing as they moved.

Suddenly, a low rumbling cut through the serenity of the glade. The boys paused in their tasks, heads tilting upwards as they listened. The sound grew louder, a grating intrusion in their peaceful world. It was the box, rising from the depths of the maze much sooner than expected. A flicker of unease passed over their faces. The box was here way too early.

"What is that?" Thomas asked. Newt being the only other person near him at the time dropped his tools and put his hand on his forehead.

"The box is coming back up but — it's way too early for them to be sending anyone…" He mumbled the last part. "But it can't be resources either… I think it's a person."

"What?" Thomas scoffed, walking over to where the song was coming from along with Newt and the rest of the glade. "Why would they send anyone if it's too early?"

“You’re asking me as if I know.” Newt folds his arms.

“Well, you’ve been here than me I would’ve thought-” Thomas paused when the sound grew louder, his voice was with a mix of curiosity and fear. The rumbling grew closer, the earth beneath their feet vibrating gently with each mechanical jolt.

The group gathered around the hole in the ground where the box normally emerged, their eyes fixed on the distant corner where the box would soon appear. The walls themselves seemed to be holding their breath in anticipation. The grinding noise grew louder, the metal beast rising from the earth with a shudder that sent a chill down Thomas's spine. The box emerged from the shadows.

Inside was…you? A girl?

Your eyes fluttered open, and you gasped for breath, the smells of metal and dust filling your nose as you took in the faces of the stunned group of boys. Your clothes were tattered, and your skin was riddled with dirt, but the look of shock on their faces wasn't for your appearance. It was because you were a girl, and you were sent way too early something they hadn't seen in a very, very long time.

The box shuddered to a halt. The door creaked open, revealing the cramped space you had been confined in. You backed into the corner, legs wobbly and unsteady from the journey. The group of boys parted, creating a pathway for Gally to walk through. Before he reached the box, Thomas stepped forward, hand outstretched to help you, but you shied away, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, voice quiet to not alarm you. “None of us will.”

Thomas stared, feeling as if he recognized you but…it wasn't clicking. You were so out of place here, a stark contrast to the world of boys he'd known since he woke up in the glade with no memory. His mind raced, trying to piece together why you were here, what this meant. The glade had always been a place of order, of understanding their roles and sticking to the rules. Now, everything was off.

The other boys whispered among themselves, a mix of awe and suspicion. Gally's eyes narrowed, a scowl etching itself onto his features. He was the first to break the silence, his voice harsh and accusatory. "What is she doing here?"

“Do you really have to act like that right now? She’s clearly scared.” Thomas grumbled, very fed up with Gally at this point.

Alby, the leader of the glade, pushed through the crowd, his eyes never leaving yours. "Looks like she's been through a lot. Get her to the med hut.” His tone was gentle but firm, a stark contrast to Gally's aggression.

As Thomas helped you out of the box and to the medical hut with Gally, Alby, and Newt following close behind, your hand trembled in his, and he couldn't help but wonder what horrors you had faced. The glade was a harsh place, but it was their home, and the arrival of an outsider, especially a girl, was unprecedented. The whispers grew louder, questions and theories flying around like leaves in a storm. The glade's rhythm was disrupted, and the unease grew stronger with each step you took away from the box.

Once inside the medical hut, the other boys hovered around, eager to help, but you remained guarded. The healer, a gentle-hearted boy named Clint, began to examine you. His eyes searched yours, looking for signs of recognition or understanding. But you were a blank slate, a girl with no name and no memory of how you got here, like the rest. The stitches on your forehead, a stark reminder of your journey, stood out against your skin.

Gally's shadow loomed outside the hut, his suspicion thick enough to be felt through the walls. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and his jaw was set. "Why the hell did they send a girl," he spat. "What is this, some sort of prank? Ever since you got here, stuff started to go wrong. And now a girl is here."

Thomas felt his temper rising. He had seen enough fear in those first moments when he arrived to understand how you must feel. "It doesn’t matter how or where she came from, we can't just leave her to fend for herself," he countered, his voice firm but not confrontational. "We need to help her, find out who she is."

Newt, who had been quietly observing from the side, spoke up. "It's never been like this before, man. Girls aren't sent here." His eyes searched yours, filled with a curiosity that matched Thomas's.

Alby sighs and takes a seat next to you. "Do you know your name or where…where you came from?"

You looked around the small, makeshift medical area. "I-I don't know," you stammered, your voice cracking. "I don't remember anything."

The room fell silent, the weight of your words pressing down on them like a heavy blanket. The boys shared looks, a mix of concern and confusion. Alby's eyes softened. "We'll figure it out," he assured you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You're safe here."

"Thomas, Gally, watch her. I'm going to try and find something to get the dirt off of her. Make sure none of the other boys get to her. God knows what the hell they'll do. Newt, cmon." Alby sighs before walking out, Newt stopping next to Thomas.

“And make sure Gally doesn’t choke her out.” He whispers before finally leaving.

Thomas nods solemnly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're okay." His voice is gentle, the first hint of kindness you've heard since you woke up in this strange place. You nod slightly, not trusting your voice to speak again. The other boys start to disperse, their whispers and stares still following you like a cloud of bees.

Once Alby is out of earshot, Gally turns to Thomas with a snarl. "I don't trust her," he says, his eyes flicking to you and then back to Thomas.

Thomas's grip tightens around the spear he's holding. "Gally, you're not — that's a stupid assumption to make, okay?"

"After you came here, shit started to spiral out of control and now we have a girl here? You think I'm stupid for assuming she could be a danger to us?!" Gally's voice raised slightly, your ears perking to his voice. His eyes landed on you, sighing and pulling Thomas away. "She doesn't know her name and she doesn't remember where she came from."

“You trusted me, didn’t you?”

“…That’s different.” Gally groans. “We don’t get sent girls.”

Thomas's gaze remained steady. "The point is we treat her like we would any newbie. Help her, keep her safe, and figure out what the hell is going on." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Gally looked skeptical, but nodded begrudgingly. "Fine. But if she causes any trouble…" He left the threat hanging in the air, his eyes dark.

"I'm cold…" you mumble. Gally's face contorted.

"It's not even cold outside, how are you cold-?" Gally began, but was cut off by Thomas' gentle nudge.

"Let's get her a blanket, okay?" Thomas offered with a kind smile. You nodded, feeling a small spark of gratitude for his understanding. He left the hut and returned moments later with a warm, woolen blanket that smelled faintly of the glade's flora. Wrapping it around you, he sat down opposite, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What's your name?" he asked softly. The question was simple, but it held a world of meaning in this place where everything was a puzzle.

You searched your thoughts, but the fog was thick and heavy. "I-I don't know," you replied, your voice quivering. "They never told me."

Gally leaned against the wall. "Well, until you remember, your name is Greenie." His tone was not unkind, but it was firm, a reminder that until you had proven yourself, you were still a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.

Thomas flinched at the term, but you just nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. "Ignore him, okay? I'm gonna check on Alby to see where he is with the stuff. Gally, be nice to her." He shot a look at Gally before exiting the medical hut, leaving you and Gally in an awkward silence.

Gally took a deep breath, his features softening slightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be an ass," he began, his voice gruff. "It's just that we don't get girls here, and the last thing we need is for you to mess up our routine. No kidding, you’re surrounded by boys who haven’t seen a girl in years. Who knows what the hell they’d do to you.”

You nodded, not knowing how to respond. The walls of the hut felt as if they were closing in on you, suffocating you with their unspoken questions and accusations. Your eyes searched the room, landing on the shelves filled with medical supplies and makeshift weapons. You felt utterly out of place, a wildflower in a field of thorns.

Gally's gaze softened, sensing your distress. "Look, I'm not saying you're gonna cause trouble, but we just need to be careful, alright?" He paused, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "Everything changes now, and we need to stick together."

"…What's your name?" you ask. The question felt strange on your lips, foreign and yet familiar at the same time. Gally's eyes narrowed, his arms still crossed.

"I told you; I don't trust you so I'm not tellin'," he replied curtly. "Until then, I'm kinda like your superior or whatever."

You tilted your head, even pouting. "That guy before kept saying Gally and Thomas but I don't know which one is which," you whispered. Gally's stance didn't change, but something in his eyes did, a flicker of something that wasn't quite anger or suspicion anymore.

"Fine," he huffed. "It's Gally." He pointed to Thomas' empty spot. "And that's Thomas. He's the one who brought you in here."

You studied him, the name 'Gally' echoing faintly in your mind like the distant chime of a bell. "Thank you, Gally."

He nodded curtly, still keeping his guard up. "Look, I'm sorry if I'm being harsh, but we've got a system here. It keeps us all alive, and we can't have anyone messing with it. Do you understand?"

You nodded, the warmth of the blanket beginning to seep into your bones. "Yes, you’ve…said that. I won't cause any trouble," you promised, your voice small and hopeful.

Gally sighed, his stance relaxing slightly. "Good."

You twiddled your thumbs, now avoiding eye contact. You still wanted to talk, but you didn't know about what. So, you started to ramble.

"So…what is this place? And — hlong have you been in here?" you asked, trying to piece together the puzzle of this strange place. Gally's eyes searched the room, as if looking for answers in the shadows.

"Too long," he murmured, his voice distant. "A couple of years, I think." He paused, considering his words. "It's hard to keep track of time when every day is the same. And no one really knows what this place is.”

The silence that followed was filled with the unspoken understanding of lives lived in a perpetual cycle of fear and survival. You could see the weariness in Gally's eyes, the weight of his responsibilities etched into the lines of his face. "What's it like outside this place?" you whispered, the curiosity burning like a tiny flame in the pit of your stomach.

Gally's expression darkened. "We don’t know. Like I said, we’ve been stuck in here for years." he said bluntly. "You should be worrying about what it’s like in here. Especially for a girl." His voice held a warning, a clear boundary you were not to cross. Yet, the curiosity grew stronger, the need to understand this world that was now your home.

"You seem to care a lot about me being a girl in here. So like, are you gonna protect me or something? Since it's too much for a girl like me?" You asked Gally, your voice a mix of hope and challenge.

Gally looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. Was she flirting with him? No, he’s just crazy. "I'm not saying that."

"Well, you're acting like because I'm a girl, I can't survive in here so does that mean you're gonna protect me, yes or no?" You questioned, your voice a little stronger than before.

Gally sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Look, it's not like that. It's just…-"

"Then what is it?" You push your hair out of your face, causing Gally to choke on his words.

"I-uh, I just-" He stammers before stopping. "Look, Thomas is the one who'll be looking after you."

"But why can't you?" You press, feeling a strange need to understand the dynamics of this place.

Gally's eyes harden. "Because Thomas is the nicest one of us all. He's the one who can handle…this." He gestures at you, his voice laced with something you can't quite pinpoint.

"But he's not the one saying I won't make it because I'm a girl. It's you. You seem to care a lot." You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to understand the complex emotions that played across his face.

Gally's cheeks flushed slightly. "It's not that, it's just…" He trailed off, at a loss for words. "The glade isn't for the weak." His voice was gruff, but the way he said it suggested that he didn't believe you were weak, just different.

"Well, I'm not weak." you slide off the bed and walk over to him, the height difference between you stark. "I've survived whatever they put me through to get here. I can survive this."

Gally's jaw tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. "You might think you're strong, but the glade and the maze…it's not like anything you've ever faced. I mean, you won’t be going into the maze, anyway. We're all here for a reason, and none of us are weak. But we're also all we've got." His words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the precariousness of your situation.

You stand tall, the blanket falling from your shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere. And I'll do whatever it takes to survive." Your voice is steady, the resolve in it unmistakable. Gally stares at you, his expression unreadable.

"I guess we'll see," he says finally, turning away. "For now, you need to rest. We'll figure out your role once you're feeling better." His words are dismissive, but the tension in his shoulders suggests he's still processing what you've said.

You scoff and walk back over to the bed, sitting down and turning away from him. Gally notices the blanket on the floor, wondering if he should pick it up and give it to you or if he should let you stay cold. He wanted to leave it, but - ugh, he couldn't. He picks the blanket up and storms over, putting it around your shoulders. "Here," he says gruffly, his face a mask of frustration. "Don't get too comfortable, Greenie. We've got work to do and I'm not carrying you around."

You look up at him, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of your mouth. "Thank you," you murmur, your eyes never leaving his. Gally clears his throat, uncomfortable under your gaze. He turns to leave, needing to get out of the room before he says something else stupid.

[caberzatto]

distraction (pt. 1)

fem!reader x Minho

summary: After the arrival of a new female glader, Minho begins acting strangely. He’s losing focus and getting easily distracted, which leads to an incident one day when he's out in the maze. Luckily the newest greenie is there to help.

word count : 4.6k

Being a teenage boy is hard enough as it, but being a teenage boy and having spent the last three years in a confined space surrounded by around fifty other teenage boys? Yeah, not the most ideal living situation in the world, I mean you can just imagine the amount of pent up sexual frustration.

I mean it's not like thoughts of sex or women were constantly on Minho's mind, but at the end of the day he's still a teenage boy with needs.

That day you had come up in the box was by far the most genuine feeling of excitement that the boys had felt throughout their time in the glade. I mean for most of them it was the first time that they could remember actually seeing a girl, and a really, really, pretty girl no less.

You can only imagine all the crass thoughts and mental images that made their way through the minds of majority of the boys once they opened up the box, only to find a girl sitting at the bottom.

The crowd of men above you simply stood and glared down at you in silence before one of the boys made a comment something along the lines of "Well how do we decide who gets first go, boys?," resulting in scattered snorts and chuckles from the rest of the group.

Alby was quick to step in, though. Keeping a close eye on you during your first few days in the glade; setting rules and boundaries around you to make sure no one would try anything. He showed you around and how things worked, informing you of all the different roles that everyone plays to ensure smooth sailing, introducing you to people like Newt and Fry and Gally.

And Minho.

You and Minho had never really spoken to each other despite you having been in the glade for almost 2 months now.

The most you'd interacted was one evening after the runners had gotten back from the maze. It was a night of festivities; everyone was gathered around what appeared to be a very large bonfire.

You were sat next to Newt on the trunk of a fallen tree, and as you blankly stared into the orange flames of the fire, you felt someone gently nudge your shoulder from behind, pulling you out of your trance like state. Alby. In his left had he held the necks of two bottles of Gally's secret drink and in his right hand he held a bowl of food, along with two more balancing on his inner forearm.

"Thanks, Alby," Newt said as he grabbed a bottle and a bowl from Alby's grasp, digging right into the plate of food, which honestly looked like a pile of vomit - no offense to Frypan, he does the best with what he’s got.

"Here you go Greenie," Alby offered a bowl of food to you as he climbed over the branch to take a seat beside you. "So, how's life in the glade treating you so far?" Alby questioned in between bites of food.

"Not bad I guess. Considering everything, you know," You placed your half-eaten bowl of food down, grabbing one of the bottles of Gally's drink from between Newt's legs to take a swig, cringing at the taste of the beverage.

As you pressed the bottle to your lips your eyes began to scan over the rest of the gladers sat in their own separated groups. Since Newt and Alby had already shown you around a few days prior to the bonfire, you were somewhat familiar with a majority of the boys and the jobs everyone did.

The 'runners' was one of the jobs that intrigued you the most when you’d first learned of them from Alby, (even though you yourself were a medj-jack), and they were just the group your eyes had landed on whilst you scanned the bunch of boys sat around the fire.

Your eyes settled on Minho, the dark haired Asian boy who was sat in the centre of the rest of the runners. He was the 'keeper of the runners' which is apparently a highly important role. Well, that's just the way everyone else described it.

It was not your intention to stare, and you hadn't actually realised that you were until Newt made a comment that snapped you out of it.

"Hey, Alby. I think our Greenie here might have a little crush," causing a chortle to leave Alby's mouth as he glanced between you and the Asian boy sat on the other side of the fire.

"Slim it you shanks," you were quick to roll your eyes at the two boys sitting on either side of you. Although they weren't totally wrong.

It's not like you hadn't taken notice of Minho when you were, eventually, let out of the box. The first thing you observed about him was his stoic demeanor. Unlike the rest of the gladers, Minho definitely did not appear to be as talkative or interactive as everyone else. He was honestly kinda reserved, only speaking to a few other boys such as Newt, Alby, and Fry.

But there was something about him that intrigued you. I mean, you obviously couldn't deny the fact that he was a very, very attractive dude, but it wasn't just that. There was something more to your interest in him.

Just as you were about to go back to your-unintentional-staring after brushing off Alby and Newt, once your eyes landed back on the spot Minho had been sitting, he was gone. Your eyes wandered around the area, trying to locate him, when you spotted him heading in your direction to which you quickly dropped your head to look down at the grass in hopes that he hadn't seen you staring.

Once he'd reached where you and the two boys were seated, he turned his attention towards Alby. "Hey, Alby, I needa talk to you," his eyes flickered to yours before he continued "It's about the map."

"Yeah sure, let me just finish off here and I'll walk with you to the map room, alright."

Minho nodded in response before finally paying attention to you and Newt, well, more so Newt than you but still. "W'sup Newt,"

"Yo, Minho," pulling his sleeve over his hand before wiping over his mouth to clean himself up, "How are things looking in the old maze?"

Minho placed his hands on either side of his runners' harness, grabbing onto it, causing it to pull down ever so slightly. Why was that so shucking attractive. "Not too bad actually, think we might be making a lot more progress."

Just as Alby had polished off the last of his food and was beginning to get up, Minho turned his attention towards you, giving a quick upnod, "What's up Greenie?" Without saying anything you merely returned the nod before he and Alby were on their way.

And that was the only 'interaction' you and Minho have had since then, if you can even call it an interaction at that.

Since then the two of you haven't exchanged any other words with each other, yet even aside that fact, you couldn't get him off your mind for a reason you couldn't come to terms with, or rather one that you were too embarrassed to admit.

It was safe to say that you had developed kind of a crush on the apathetic runner, although you don't even know how it happened seeing as you've barely said two words to one another in the past 2 months since becoming a new resident of the glade. But even so you would catch yourself stealing glances at the unbelievably pretty dark haired boy, from time to time.

Though you were blissfully unaware, Minho too would sneak looks (and the occasional stare) at you when you weren't paying attention. Even though he acted like it (and very well too) you were definitely not invisible to him. In fact you were truthfully the immense opposite of invisible to Minho.

From the day you had arrived in the box, to you and Minho's very first interaction that night during the bonfire, the boy could not, and I mean could not, get you out of his head.

Now, despite the fact that it was the first time he'd seen a girl in well over 3 years, it didn't change his mind that you were the most gorgeous girl he'd ever laid his eyes on. Ever.

Everyone in the glade knows very well that Minho is not an easily distracted, or crush - having type of guy, so when Ben and the rest of the runners were discussing their plans for their next venture into the maze and Minho was not quick to chime in to either correct something or simply just to add his input, they knew something strange was definitely going on.

"Minho," Ben called out the boys name on the account that he'd been staring at section 6 of the maze for the past 10 minutes without saying a word, or even blinking for that matter, "Minho!"

Minho's head quickly snapped up to look at Ben, before clearing his throat and trying, but very miserably failing, to pretend as if nothing happened at all.

"Yo, Minho, where's your shuckin'' head at today?" Ben questioned as the rest of the group grunted in agreement.

The answer to Ben's question was you.

Minho knew himself very well, and for him to be distracted whilst on the job? is not like himself whatsoever. Being the leader of the runners is one of the most important jobs in the glade, and Minho himself knows that better than anyone, which is why he takes his job very seriously, never allowing his mind to be absorbed with anything else less eminent. He puts it above almost everything else.

But now, suddenly he's constantly finding himself daydreaming about you, about the gorgeous girl who came up in the box almost 2 months ago. And he just can't seem to shake you from his head.

He's tried almost everything he could think of to keep his mind off you : burying himself in his work - sometimes even spending hours in the map room - taking cold showers in attempts to slow his heart rate. But nothing was doing the trick.

It even got so bad to the point where he'd run out of possible solutions to solve his problem, so he did something completely outside of his character - he confided in someone about it.

This specific someone being Newt, who when Minho came to him all tense and awkward and completely unlike his normal self, immediately knew what was causing his newfound dilemma. The newest (female) Greenbean of the glade.

Once Minho had finished informing Newt of his current problem, and embarrassing himself by rambling on and on in the process, a smug, shit - eating grin was plastered onto Newt's face

"For shuck's sake, Newt, you're supposed to be helping me with my problems here, not finding them amusing." A frustrated Minho expressed.

"Okay, okay, you're right, my deepest apologies," Newt placed a hand over his heart, feigning sympathy for the wreck of the usually put together boy standing in front of him. "But alright, you want my advice?"

The keeper of the runners nodded his head desperately, "That's the entire bugging' reason I came to you in the first place, Newt."

"Well," Newt replied, dragging the end of the word almost as if he was unsure of what he was about to say, "You're going to have to talk to her, Minho." He explained as he shrugged his shoulders, almost as if to say it wasn't even that big of a deal.

"No. Absolutely shucking not," Minho babbled on, "I mean, I wouldn't even know the first thing to say to he- what the shuck would I say to her?" Desperately looking to Newt for the answers to his problems.

The blond boy merely crossed his arms over his chest, "That my dear friend, is for you to figure out on your own."

Minho is not a talker, he's simply just not good at it. So unsurprisingly he took absolutely none of Newt's advice. Instead, sticking with what he knows he's best at - running. When he's running between the walls of the maze his mind is clear, well, for the most part. He still has to be alert and aware of grievers on top of having to lead the rest of the runners, but for Minho, that's as clear as it gets.

So that's what he's been doing and it had been working great for maybe a week or so before everything went awry.

The scorching sun was beginning to disappear behind the vine-covered walls of the maze, signalling that the doors were about to close, although today was different from any other day because usually by his time, the runners would have been back already. And they weren't.

Ben and Minho were the only two to go into the maze today, which made the fact that they weren't back yet even weirder. Typically, the fewer runners went into the maze , the earlier they'd get back, meaning that the two boys should have long emerged from the griever-infested walls.

People had started to gather at the solid doors of the maze, worry beginning to consume the thoughts of one glader at a time. You and Newt were stood at the forefront of the rest of the boys, anticipating the safe return of Ben and his leader.

5 minutes had passed and still no sign of Ben or Minho. "They're not coming back bro," were the words being exchanged amongst the group of dispirited boys. At least 2 more minutes go by and still absolutely nothing; no movement from inside the unwelcoming walls of the maze.

A once sizeable group of gladers waiting under the anticipation of the two runners' return, had now decreased until the only people left were you, Newt, Chuck, Alby, Jeff, and Clint. 

"They're not gonna make it." Newt proclaimed to everyone else. 

Even though you hadn’t know him long, you couldn't even fathom the possibility of Minho not coming back from the maze. The possibility that you might never see him again. Never see his face again. "They'll make it."

And just as the words left your lips, two figures rounded the final corner of the maze, coming into view for everyone to see. 

Chuck's head shot up whilst his arm flung in Ben and Minho's direction "There!" 

But the closer the two boys got to the doorway, the more apparent it became that something was very wrong. Minho's arm was slung over Ben's shoulder, whilst his other one clutched his midsection. His head hung down as Ben used all the strength he had left to drag the both of them to the safety of the glade.

A loud rumble erupted in the air, shaking the ground beneath the feet of you and everyone else surrounding you, indicating the closing of the maze walls. By now, it really did look like the two adolescent teens weren't going to make it in time before the doors shut, meaning they would have to spend an entire night in the maze. And no one ever survived a night in the maze.

Without thinking, you lunged forward, heading towards Ben and the injured boy lugging by his side. Your fellow gladers tried to grab hold of you but were unsuccessful in their attempts as you had already set foot in the maze.

Ben shifted his gaze to you, giving you a look as if to say, "You've really done it now, Greenie," yet you couldn't care less. The only thing on your mind was getting them to safety before you were all trapped in there for the night.

Yanking Minho's free arm from his stomach, you pulled it over your shoulder to provide more support for the injured boy who now stood between you and Ben. Shouts of desperation and distress flooded your ears, coming from the now-increased crowd of boys standing on the grass in front of you.

You grunted as you and Ben pushed closer towards the exit, dragging Minho as best as possible along with you. Your safe haven was a mere few feet ahead, looking like the three you might make it, but the doors of the maze were faster, closing in in an attempt to squash you between them.

"Come on!" yelled Chuck and his fellow friends as you approached closer and closer towards them.

An exhausted Ben looked at you with an encouraging expression, as he could see you were beginning to tire out, and with all the strength you both had left, the two of you hastened your pace, Minho's legs dragging along the floor of the maze.

Your bodies were now sideways due to the limited space between the doors, brushing against the cold surface of the walls. With Ben behind Minho, and you in front of him, still clutching onto his limp arms, you squeezed your way through the doors that threatened to crush you.

And just as the doors made their final thrust, you were through.

You hit the ground hard and with a thud after being pushed by Ben, who barely got his arm out in time before the doors of the maze finally slammed shut, resulting in a loud 'BOOM' erupting throughout the glade.

The soft grass brushed against your cheek, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths of exhaustion. 'I'm safe. I made it." Was the first thought to enter your head.

Using all your effort, you planted your hands on the ground, hoisting yourself up onto your feet, and before you were able to register what was happening, at least 30 boys were clamoring around you and the two other boys that lay on the ground beside you.

Minho.

God, Minho. You looked down and watched as your friends helped Minho and Ben to their feet as best as they could. Without any regard for yourself and your current state, you promptly began giving orders to your fellow med jacks, Clint and Jeff. "Get them to the med hut, now!"

Newt and Alby sat Minho down on one of the beds in the hut, whilst Jeff and Clint attended to Ben to check if too had any injuries. Once Minho was settled, Alby gave orders to the large huddle of boys situated outside the entrance of the hut to pack it in for the night and head to bed. "You guys alright in here?" His words, directed to you, Jeff and Clint.

Your eyes never once strayed away from the Asian boy who was now laying on the bed in front of you, "Yeah, we've got it from here. Thanks, Alby."

"Let us know if there's anything you need," Newt added. And with that, the two of them left the hut to settle down for the night.

Jeff and Clint had completed their inspection of Ben, concluding that he was relatively fine; just a few cuts and scrapes were all, and once they had finished cleaning those up with some rubbing alcohol and plasters, they assisted Ben to his hammock, checking on you before they left, "Yo, Greenbean. You good?" Clint questioned.

Still not taking your eyes off Minho, "Yeah, I got it, thanks guys. Goodnight."

And then there were two.

Minho had both his arms draped across his stomach, clutching his midsection. His eyes were shut tight, his brows furrowed as he groaned in pain. But let it be Minho to still pass a comment whilst being severely injured, "You could've gotten us killed in there, Greenie."

You scoffed in amusement as you carefully began moving his arms away from his stomach to take a closer look at his injuries, "True, but I ended up saving your life didn't I."

No response.

You placed your fingers on the hem of Minho's shirt, accidentally brushing them against his skin, causing him to shiver under your touch. For a second you wondered if it was because of the pain from his cut, or the fact that you had touched him, although you quickly brushed your thoughts away as to not let yourself get distracted.

As you tried to lift his shirt to assess the severity of his cut, it soon became apparent that you need more access to be able to do a proper job of cleaning it up. Meaning he has to take his shirt off. Meaning you're gonna see him shirtless for the first time ever.

Great. This won't be awkward at all.

"Minho," pausing to collect yourself, "I, uh, need you to take your shirt off, y'know, so I can get a better look at the cut on your stomach."

He tenses under your touch. Again.

In your head, you excuse the reaction for him just being in pain. But in reality, Minho is having a full-blown freakout in his mind right now. He has to take his shirt off. In front of you. The girl he's secretly been crushing on since you arrived in the glade.

Great. This won't be awkward at all.

He clears his throat before lifting his head off the table to look a you, "Uh, yeah, sure no-no problem." He's stuttering. Minho never stutters, like ever.

You remove your hand from its current position on Minho's stomach and place it on his lower back to help him sit up straight, but as he's getting up, his hand slips off the side of the narrow twin bed, and in a quick attempt to balance himself he grabs onto the forearm of your other free arm, causing your body to jolt forward.

Your faces are now mere inches away from one another, both of you in shock with wide eyes as you look at each other, registering what just happened. This sudden closeness doesn't last long, though you wish it had, as Minho pulls his arm away.

Once again, he clears his throat, meanwhile, you blink rapidly in an attempt to gain back focus, "Um, okay where were we-right, um I'm gonna need that shirt of yours to come off now."

He simply nods, before lifting his arms over his head, as best as he can, wincing from the pain coming from his midsection. As his arms raise, his shirt lifts up slightly, giving you a peek of his toned stomach in the process.

Focus.

You unhooked his harness, carefully taking it off first before tackling his shirt. Your hands find their way back to the hem of the garment, steadily raising it higher and higher until it's over his head and his arms are through, before placing it on the bed on the other side of the hut.

A now, shirtless, Minho sat before you on the bed as you tried to calm your quickened heart rate. But God was he a work of art. You couldn't help but admire his athletic body, I mean he literally looks like he was carved from stone.

Focus.

"Okay, now let me take a look at that nasty cut of yours," you positioned one hand on Minho's chest and the other on his stomach just below where the cut was.

As you took a closer look to examine the injury closer, Minho's head was just about ready to explode. His head was tilted upwards, barely even breathing, focusing only on the way you were touching him. Touching his body.

What could he have possibly done to deserve this? Aside from maybe almost dying, of course.

Suddenly, the warmth of your hands disappeared, prompting Minho to look down at where they once were, as you walked over to the cabinet to get supplies to clean the affected area. And he couldn't help but wish your hands were back on him.

With your back facing him, you grabbed everything you needed, your mind wandering back to the maze. Minho has never gotten injured in the maze before, he's the best of the best, and he never gets distracted. So what was so different this time?

"So, what the shuck happened out there today?" you made your way back over to him, supplies in hand, "I mean," you paused, placing a cotton ball that was damp with rubbing alcohol on the cut, causing a strained moan to leave his lips. the sound left your mind fuzzy, "you've never gotten hurt, and definitely not this badly, in the maze before right?" You looked up at him, eyes wide with confusion.

That look could have sent him over the edge.

He licked his lips, "Uh-shuck...I dunno, I guess I just..." his words trailed off as he looked back down at you, "uhh, just got distracted I guess."

You couldn't believe what you'd just heard, "You, got distracted?" still running the cotton all over the large cut, "I mean you, the Minho, the always focused, leader of the runners?...surely my ears are deceiving me."

Minho chuckled at your genuine disbelief, "Sure did."

After wiping off the last bit of blood, you put down the now red-stained ball of cotton and picked up the roll of gauze and began unraveling it, "Well...are you gonna tell me what on Earth it is that distracted you or are you gonna make me guess," smiling at him as you asked the question.

He's going crazy right now.

"Uhh..." Okay, deep breaths now Minho, "well, it was uh- okay," The boy was literally a stumbling mess in front of you, his hand flying to scratch the back of his head, "okay-shuck, I mean...okay,"

"Jeez, I can take a hint y'know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I was just curio-"

"It was you!" He blurts out, cutting you off mid-sentence.

You blink, confused at what has just come out of his mouth. "Me? what do you mean it was me who distracted you?"

Well, there's no going back now.

"I,okay-shuck... I like you, okay? Like, like-like you, and for the past couple of weeks I haven't been able to get you out of my head and I just- I don't know, I mean it's not like me to be easily distracted but you- you just-you're so pretty and sweet and it was getting so bad-not that...liking you is a bad thing, I just mean I didn't know how to stop thinking about you that I even went and asked Newt for his help! Which is just...so unlike me but I-uh-yeah..."

No words. I mean you literally had no words. Minho just told you he likes you?? What is the right reaction? So you just stood there. Frozen.

"Shuck... say something. Please." He asks softly, pulling you out of your trance like state.

"I-uh...I...I like you too Minho," you admitted.

His eyes widened as he stared at you in shock. You liked him? You like him. You. Like. Him. "You...you like me?"

You rolled your eyes at the oblivious boy in front of you, "Yes, you shank, I do." your tone low and faint.

His voice is soft and almost gleeful as his eyes flicker to your lips briefly, "Oh... well that-that's great, I mean its good-I mean-"

You leaned forward, cutting him off, and pressed your lips against his, catching him off guard. He kisses you back almost immediately as you stand between his legs, his hands gently coming and settling on your waist.

"Holy shuck!"

The two of you abruptly pull away from one another, as a third voice fills the hut. Both looking over to the entrance, Newt is leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and a very big smug smile on his face as he stares back at the both of you.

"I take it you two lovebirds have finally worked things out?" he added, sounding much too pleased for you and Minho's liking.

You turn to look at each other once again, chuckling lightly before awkwardly turning back to face the tall blond boy by the door.

[cyberg4l]

┏━ • 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐓 • ━┓

pairing; GALLY x READER word count; 1.8k summary; you’re reunited with gally after a tumultuous few weeks of grieving his death. warnings; mentions of death and grief, canonical type violence, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: this is set during ‘death cure’. all the characters are above the age of 18. there will be mentions of death, violence, and the flare. if you’re not in the right headspace to read something heavy, then please take care of yourself.

FOR THE LONGEST TIME, ALL YOU HAD WANTED WAS TO ESCAPE THE GLADE. You spent countless restless nights sitting under the stars and wondering what the world outside was like. There were times when you truly lost hope. There were times when you didn’t think you would make it out alive - that the only time you would ever get a glimpse of what was beyond the grey, harsh walls would be in your dreams. Or even the afterlife.

Now, as you trekked along the depressing streets, you found yourself wishing for that blissful ignorance again. Ben, Chuck, Gally, Winston. Those names were on repeat in your mind almost every night and every morning. They died so that you could live, and that had to count for something.

You remembered vividly what it was like to see a fellow Glader die right in front of you. Sure, Ben was banished; but he had died long before he was sent out into the Maze. He was dead the moment the infection took hold of his body.

Gally was next. His stubborn nature caused his demise, and Chuck’s too. Clenching your eyes, you blinked away the anger and resentment. Gally had been your friend. He was a hard-headed ass, and too overbearing, but he always took care of you when it mattered. Even if he was grumpy about it while doing so.

There was no place for love in the Glade, but if you had to pinpoint the first and last time you felt it, it would be for Gally. The memory of you begging him to come with you haunted your every waking moment. Tears, blood, and sweat covered your face as you dragged his sleeve - crying, almost falling to your knees to convince him. You’ll never forget the way he looked at you, the way he shook you off his arm like you were some pest.

And you couldn’t forget about Winston. His death was still fresh in everyone’s mind. It was hard to forget the echo of the gunshot that had ended his life - even if it was by his own hands.

A harsh slam woke you from your thoughts. Someone had rammed straight into you, trying to pass you. Looking up, you saw them walk past a cargo truck. A tall man was sat on it - gas mask heavy and tight on his face as he seemingly stared straight through you. You shivered before looking away. The streets were too crowded. Thomas held onto your arm tightly as he maneuvered his way around. Honestly, your search was feeling futile.

If you could go back in time, maybe you would’ve never left the Glade. Maybe Gally was right.

“Over there,” said Thomas, pointing to something in the distance.

You squinted, not quite understanding what he was getting at. In truth, you weren’t even sure how he knew what to look for. The Right Arm hadn’t been heard of in years. That’s what everyone had said. You were looking for ghosts.

“Thomas-“ you started, wanting to reason with him. Words caught in your throat as a bullet wheezed straight past you two.

All hell broke loose as swarms of bodies shoved and pulled - trying to escape the danger of being shot. Newt and Brenda had disappeared. Whipping your head around, you yelled for them, not wanting to lose another friend to the chaos that this world offered.

Before you knew it, a strong grip dragged you away, and everything went black as a strange fabric went over your face.

“Let me go!” you yelled, looking at the familiar mask on the soldier’s face. You quickly recognized them as the ones who were riding around town earlier.

The car ride had been brutally long. Your muscles ached, and your eyes were sore from being in the dark for so long. Frantically looking around, you tried to find your friends. Surprisingly so, your arms weren’t tied. The only thing stopping you was the almost painful hold on your upper arm. Whoever these people were, they didn’t seem like they wanted to hurt you - or else you’d most likely be dead by now.

You huffed as you were manhandled into a room. There was something about the soldier - something about them gave you a sense of deja vu. It was the way they held themselves, the way their breaths came in ragged gasps as you stared at their chest. Each moment felt like a distant memory that you had seen before. Furrowing your brows, you decided it was your memory loss messing with you again. It was common for you to think you remembered something from your past, just for it to be a fluke.

You were quickly let go, and you jogged up to Newt, wrapping him in a hug.

“I was worried sick,” he mumbled. “Where are the others?”

You shrugged as your eyes scanned around. Spotting Brenda, you nodded to her. There were significantly less of you than you’d initially had begun with. Had they taken the rest to a different location? Your heart hammered rapidly against your ribcage as you stepped back. You eyed the familiar soldier, noting the way his shoulders squared back as he stood tall.

You shook your head. I don’t know him. It’s all just fake memories. Get over yourself. Get over yourself-

A shout interrupted the awkward and anxious silence. As Jorge began laying down punch after punch on one of the men, Brenda ran up to him to put a stop to it. All your eyes were looking for was Thomas and Fry.

After everything you had all been through, the thought of losing someone else was unbearable. You couldn’t afford another loss like that. Letting out a deep breath, you watched as Frypan and Thomas stepped up, curiously staring down the soldier at the end of the room.

Words were exchanged, but none of them stuck.

His voice. It sounded like…

“What do you mean same side? Who the hell are you?”

The soldier stopped, his arm flexing as he lowered the gun in his hand. He looked away briefly before slowing pulling off his mask. A buzzed head came into view, and you had almost no time to process before his face turned to look at you.

All you could see was blue. The color of his eyes. The same eyes you had looked into as you pleaded and sobbed. The same ones you had watched the light slowly die out of. The eyes you had so long ago fallen in love with.

Both of your gazes locked onto each other’s, and if it weren’t for Newt’s hands steadying you, you genuinely think you could’ve passed out. It was like seeing a ghost.

All you heard was a loud commotion behind you as you turned to sprint out of the room. Another minute in there and you would lose your mind.

Pushing open the door to the balcony, you panted slightly, trying to get your bearings. The cool breeze pinched your cheeks, causing a slight twinge of pain. It was usually warm during the day, but the nights were freezing. In the Glade it had always been warm - never a dull day. Perhaps once every few months you’d get rain, which was always good for the crops, but it was never necessarily cold.

Shivering, you wrapped your arms around you. Weirdly enough you had never been more glad to feel the chill of air run through your bones. It was the only thing reminding you that you were alive.

Alive. Gally was alive.

Burying your face in your palms, you paced around. You spent almost three weeks grieving him. You saw him die - no, correction, you watched and left him to die.

His face tormented you every time you closed your eyes. The tears he cried as he realized he was being left for dead, the scream that had left your body as you were pulled away from the scene. Gally was the first person you had ever truly opened up to. You had been in the Glade for the brunt of 2 years, and over time you’d like to think you had gotten under his tough exterior.

The nights where you both couldn’t sleep. Your head in his shoulder, and his hand intertwined with yours, precariously tip-toeing the line between friendship and something more.

Then, in a split second, it was all gone.

“Hey, firecracker.”

You winced at the nickname. Gally had given it to you on your first week there. He said you would give him a run for his money with the way you snapped and yelled at everyone. Really, it was just because you were scared - especially being the only girl.

You blinked away tears. “Please, don’t.”

Your voice came out more shaky than you had liked. It wasn’t that you weren’t relieved to see him, it’s just that you didn’t exactly end on good terms. Now, seeing him alive and well - and so, unbelievably tall and handsome - it made you question everything.

He whispered your name, and you felt his body heat burn unbearably against your back as he stepped closer.

“Look at me.”

Shaking your head, you clenched your eyes shut, letting a few stray tears fall. “I’m can’t. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The last time you let yourself cry was that exact fateful day. Every single tear in your body had been used up to the point that you weren’t sure you were even capable of crying anymore.

Your back hit something hard, and you soon realized that two familiar arms were holding you to his chest. He breathed in and out, his inhales pressing against your back, indicating and proving that this was real. That he was real.

“How?” You sobbed, leaning into his arm.

Really, you didn’t care how. All that mattered was that he was here. And bit by bit, you would hopefully fix what was broken - regain what was lost.

Shifting around, you collapsed against him, wrapping your arms around his torso and gripping at his shirt desperately. You felt that if you let go, he would disappear. Just as he did the first time - when you let go of his sleeve, and he slipped away from your grasp, like he was never even there.

The only words that you were able to conjure were feeble apologies as you let yourself sob against his shirt. Inhaling his scent again for what felt like a lifetime, you finally felt like things were piecing together. Like you were whole again. Taking a quivering deep breath in, you finally lifted your head to look at him. He was just as beautiful as the day he left you.

He cupped your face as he rested his forehead against yours. You must have stayed like that for hours - or maybe it was only a few minutes.

All you knew was that no words had to be spoken for you both to understand. You were never going to leave each other again.

𝐜𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠𝟒𝐥 © 2024, all rights reserved.

[jennapancake]

The Monsters Creator

Minho x Reader

Description: Minho's loved you since the moment he saw you. How far is he willing to go to make sure you're only his?

Warnings: Yandere themes (Yandere Minho), Female reader, Mentions of offing, possessiveness, manipulation?, pet names, Stalking mentioned, Pining, one kiss. Lmk if I missed anymore!

A/n: I haven't posted in awhile and this was kinda spur of the moment so idk. But I hope y'all like it I'm actually kinda happy with this one. Don't forget to send in requests!

Minho who fell in love hard the moment he saw you come up in the box. I mean what guy wouldn’t when he’s been starved of the company of another female for years and a gorgeous girl like you comes up, in a state of disarray and confusion. And what kind of gentleman would he be if he didn’t comfort you and be your shoulder to cry on as you adjusted to this new life stuck in the maze, with all these boys. with him.

Minho made it clear he had called dibs on you from the moment you got there. No one but him could touch you. Could be near you. Could love you. Whenever another boy got close or even spoke a word to you, Minho would know. Immediately jumping into the conversation and once you left threatening the boy with a glare that usually made them cower, but on the rare chance it didn’t he’d step in. Do what he had to.

The closest a boy ever got to you was a greenie. Minho thinks his name was Spencer or Tanner or something stupid along those lines. His name didn’t matter, okay?! The boy didn’t heed Minho’s warnings, calling his bluff or so he thought. I mean what could the boy do? A lot actually.

You see Minho gained Spencer's trust, building it for months, allowing the boy closer to his friends. To you. Just for him to convince Spencer to be a runner. The boy following Minho into the maze only to be pushed against a wall and given lets say….a talking to. Spencer didn’t make it back to the glade that night and he didn’t come back the next morning either. Or the morning after that. Or after that.

Minho assumed you’d be broken, devastated even at the loss of your new found friend. He was ready to console you with open arms but all you ever did was glance at the door, your arms crossed before going on and doing your job for the day. He assumed you just knew loss was a given with the maze.

The only exceptions to the rules of no touching and talking came down to Newt, Alby and Frypan of course I mean his closest friends were the only ones he could trust. Who in a way encouraged his such strong feelings. Who he knew could keep an eye on you when he was in a maze searching for a way out, a way he wasn’t sure he wanted anymore. He couldn’t handle the thought of a bigger world outside the walls, a world you could roam without him. Could escape from him.

The next time a boy got close to you Minho was ready. He gained the boy's trust once more, letting him think he had a chance with you just to “lose” him in the maze. He was sure this time you’d need his comfort, his shoulder to cry on like you did when you first arrived at the glade. He thought you’d want him again, need him again. I mean he somehow let you get closer to this one, hoping it would hurt more than the last so your independent and tough facade would crumble and you’d fall right back to him. But this time you simply stared at the doors as they closed, you were the first one to leave each time the crowd gathered. Always sharing an unamused, knowing glance at Minho before patting his shoulder and walking away. There’s no way you could know, right?

This happened a few more times and by a few I mean about a couple dozen names were crossed off the wall just because they got too close to his girl. You may not have known it yet but you were his and the rest of the boys who had common sense knew it too. All he had to do was ask you to be his. You wouldn’t say no. You couldn’t. Minho was the boy closest to you and he knew that. You had to have fallen for him by now.

So when the next boy came and went or well was "handled". Minho decided it was time. You would be his.

“Hello, beautiful.” He wolf whistled as he walked into the little hut he had the builders make for just you. His perfect girl. The hut he knew you’d one day eventually share. “What do you want, Minho?” You rolled your eyes, an amused smile adorning your features. “Just checking in, making sure you’re alright after tonight?” He gave the best sympathetic smile he could muster which looked more like an evil smirk as he stepped closer to you. “I’m fine.” You shrug nonchalantly, the boy tilting his head in confusion.

Every boy he always let get closer and closer to you than the last but still you were always unfazed, always giving Minho that same look. “Are you sure? I know you were close with Albert.” He tried again, prying, hoping this facade he was sure you held would finally break until you sobbed to him as he held you in his arms, confessing your biggest fears to him just so he could kiss your tears away, tell you about how you always had him. How you only need him.

But instead you shrugged once more “Alvin” You corrected “And not really. Didn’t know him as well as you probably did. I mean seeing as he was your runner.” You stated, that knowing glint in your eye as you eyed him wearily, your arms crossed. “Ah I mean barely. He just started as a runner. Must’ve made a bad call on his running abilities.” He lied, horribly at that. Well I mean if he were talking to anyone else but you they may have believed it but you could read Minho like a book. With all his stalking and constant need to be near you, you grew quite intelligent on what made Minho well Minho.

“You’ve been making bad calls like that a lot recently.” You glared, amusement still in your features but different from your first amused smile you presented him at his entrance. “What can I say, Princess I trust too easily.” He smiled or more smirked at you before confusion took hold of his features as you laughed “What? What’s so funny?” He asked as you just smirked back at the boy “How stupid do you think I am?” You asked, stepping closer with every word until the boy backed into the wall behind him. “Wha- I don’t-” The boy stammered at your closeness until you cut him off with a stern finger on his chest. “Don’t play dumb with me. I know what you do… How you feel when you see them talk to me, when you allow them to get closer to me….when you lead them into that maze.” You state, your face inching closer to his until you're whispering the words in a faint brush against his lips to the point he’s holding his breath in fear and anticipation. “I am not a stupid little girl, Minho. And you are too grown up enough to confess your feelings, your fears instead of bottling them up and taking them out on poor boys who do not know a thing about this place.” You scolded as you stepped back from the boy, leaving him whimpering at the empty cold space that nipped his skin where your warmth used to be. “I am not your property for you to shelter and isolate. I can protect myself. I am allowed to speak with whomever I want. Be with whoever I want.” You stated once more, back facing the boy as you spoke your feelings and you were right to speak your mind. He knew that but that last sentence crossed the line. You were his. Only his.

The boy quickly crossed the room in such quick steps you didn’t even notice until the air was knocked from your lungs and you were pinned against the wall. “You are mine.” The boy practically growled down at you. “No other boy can have you. I have done all of this for you. For us.” Tears glimmered in the boys eyes as he stared down at you with so many emotions. Anger, fear, sadness, love. “You did it for yourself.” You argued back, unwavering no matter how deeply it hurt to see the boy in front of you cry, he was a monster. “I DID IT FOR US” He screamed those words once more causing you to flinch back into the wall behind you, “I did it so we could be together, just like we’ve always wanted.” He said, this time gently as he caressed your cheek, trying to ease your fear. “I never wanted this, Minho.” You whispered back only resulting in an amused scoff as the boy leaned in closer to you. “Then why’d you let it go on for so long?” He chuckled darkly as you gaped up at him. And he was right.

You had known since the beginning. You had let it go on for years and yet you just now said something. In a way you knew a sick part of you liked it. Liked knowing Minho was so possessive over you. That he wanted you, That he loved you. That he would kill for you.

“You like it don’t you?” Minho smirked, noting the look in your eyes, you shook your head, eyes pleading with him. “Darling, it’s okay I always knew you were made for me. It just makes me love you more, knowing you’re just as crazy as I am..” He smirked, “I am nothing like you.” You tried to state only for your voice to shake. “Maybe, Maybe not. But you know I know you better than anyone else here…” He began, his lips moving closer to your own as you looked up at him “and I may be a monster but you’re the reason I am one. You my love, are my creator.” And with that he finally smashed his lips against yours in a hungry, long overdue kiss which you returned immediately because he was right. You knew he was. He was a monster but so were you.

[cherie-luvv]

Sometimes I actually forget that Newt is dead. I read so many fanfics that my brain just assumes he’s alive and safe and then I remember he’s dead

[star-writes-fanfiction]

:: i n n o c e n c e :: ʚїɞ :: n e w t ::

concept: y/n has just arrived in the glade and has virtually no knowledge about s3x or s3xual things, and newt feels the need to *teach* her

warnings: smut [oral, penetration, finger fucking, only semi-consesual ], swearing, alcohol consumption

other: your nickname is bunny, it explains why but just go with it.

🔞*MINORS DNI*🔞

:: newt's pov ::

We were all gathered at the monthly bonfire to celebrate our newest arrival, just one month after that of Y/n. I sat myself down next to Minho, a bottle of Gally's moonshine in my hand, fully intending to get ridiculously drunk.

The night was going great. Thomas had already held three philosophical debates with Zart about, well, everything, Minho had been dared to run around the Glade with no pants on yelling "FREEDOM FOR THE SCROTUM!"... which I wish I could say was a fever dream, and we'd danced around to music from the little radio the Creators sent up.

Eventually though, everyone had to sit down because we'd had at least three moonshine-induced casualties. We instead played a more 'gentle' game of just asking people deep questions, and if they didn't answer, they'd drink (funny that we were answering our drinking problems with more drinking, but anyways).

I got asked first by Jack from the gardens. "So, Mr. Second-in-Command, what's your type?" I wasn't quite sure. I mean, there weren't exactly many girls in the glade, only five, so I hadn't had much to assist me in figuring it out (unless I liked guys, but that's a whole different story). However, I could easily spot what traits were bad in a girl from what I'd seen so far.

"Gotta be funny," I started, looking over to Minho for approval - at this point we were basically married, and all the Gladers are our children. Everything we do the other parent must approve. "...and kind. I guess attractive, but I wouldn't know much about that. So maybe... y/h/c hair, and nice eyes." The other Gladers gave small nods of agreement.

"Alright, Newt. Your turn. You ask someone a question."

I looked around me, my sight landing on Thomas, cheeks flushed from all he'd been drinking. "Tommy. What's your favourite..." I tried to think of something that wouldn't get me demoted by Alby and ruin my reputation. "...what's your favourite... thing about Bunny?"

He blushed slightly, clearly wanting to be polite to the girl sitting only a few metres away. "She's nice, from what I've seen. Nice eyes." Despite his saying, he averted eye contact.

"Fair," I replied. This went on until Minho's turn. I love the guy, but he clearly does NOT know how to respect a Greenie or he probably wouldn't have chosen to ask Bunny a question, let alone the one that he did.

"Hey, bunny, what's your favourite sex position?

:: ʚїɞ ::

:: your pov ::

"Hey, bunny, what's your favourite sex position?

Sex position? What the fuck shuck is that? I vaguely remembered learning about sex, but never that there were positions. It was just... sex. And to my knowledge, I'd never even had sex before.

"I don't know, the normal one," I replied, trying to asnwer as nonchalantly as possible. Even though I was sure they wouldn't necessarily judge me, it's likely that they'd make fun of me for it as long as I lived. A few boys laughed.

"The normal one, and which is that?" Minho asked, probing me sassily. "The one where..." I froze, trying to think quickly. "I don't know, I've never had sex, okay?" As I suspected, most of the boys chuckled, but luckily didn't make fun of me. As they were laughing, I caught someone's eyes across the room. Newt.

I couldn't quite his expression. Anger? Concentration? Wanting?

I hadn't been in the Glade long enough to read and comprehend his facial expressions, and definitely wasn't close enough to him to understand what they meant. I was confused, so I decided to leave and head to my hammock to hit the sack.

:: ʚїɞ ::

:: newt's pov ::

When I gave Y/n the nickname 'Bunny', it was because she looked innocent. The way her y/h/c hair fell around her sweet, round face, and the way her eyes glistened when she looked up from the Box. It was the first thing I thought of, just as how beautiful she was was the first thing I saw when I pulled her out of that cage.

But I didn't know then that she was a different kind of innocent too...

I watched as she departed the gathering, headed to the hammocks. I found the urge to follow her growing inside of me (and in my pants), but I knew I needed to let her sleep.

However, there is such a thing as lying, so I decided to get up anyway. "Hey, Minho," I said, looking in his direction. "I'm gonna go check on Bunny, and then head to bed, alright?" He nodded absent-mindedly.

As I walked to the hammocks, I started hearing sounds, but I brushed it off, thinking it was the wind. But as I started to get closer to where Y/n was 'sleeping', they grew louder and more frequent. It sounded like... moaning?

I couldn't hold back my curiosity any longer.

I quietly crept over to the hammocks to see Y/n splayed across hers, hands between her thighs, ducking in and out of herself. Fuck, that's hot, I thought as I knelt down beside her.

"Hey," I muttered, smirking as she recoiled in surprise.

"Oh my stars, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were there." She said, pulling her hand out of her pants. This was my shot.

"It's alright, Love. Let me help," I said, placing my hand over hers before reinserting it inside her. I set the pace, moving quickly. She let out little whimpers as I continued, our four fingers combined making her arrival come faster.

"Fuck, Newt~" she cursed, throwing her head back. I sped up in response, my movements faster and jerkier until I felt her clench around my fingers.

Her breath hitched as she came, wetting her canvas hammock.

"Mmm, great job, Love," I said, whispering softly in her ear, watching as her face flushed with embarrassment. "Thank you."

:: ʚїɞ ::

:: your pov ::

I yelped in surprise and anticipation as he lifted me up from my hammock, and took me to his room. He laid me gently on the sheets, closing and locking the door as he unbuckled his belt.

"Is this okay, Bunny?" He asked, now pulling off his shirt and walking over to the bed. I nodded intently, my eyes skimming over his toned chest. I blushed as he pulled his boxers down every thought in my mind being replaced by the idea of him inside me.

Before long, he laid in front of me, and hooked his thumbs in the waist of my pants, pulling them down. I lifted myself up to help him.

He held himself atop me as he began to leave ghost-like kisses across my neck, nipping softly and sucking on my sweet spot. "Fuck, that feels so good," I muttered, leaning my neck to the side to allow him more access. His hands grasped the hem of my shirt, signalling for me to take it off.

With my bra exposed, he kissed the tops of my breasts too, moving slowly down my stomach. I was getting desperate. "Newt, hurry," I managed to sputter, as he narrowly avoided the place I needed him most, and instead kissed down my thighs. "With time, Love," he simply replied, fingers latching on to the band of my panties. "May I take these off?" I nodded - even when drunk, and clearly aroused, Newt was always a gentleman.

I felt myself grow wet as my core was exposed to the cold air, whimpering from all these new sensations. I felt his tongue press against me, his fingers entering my heat once again. "Newt, shit, fuck~" I cursed as he ate me out, sucking on my clit.

It didn't take long for me to fall off the edge, his calloused thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as he helped me ride out my high.

Soon it was time for the real thing.

"You ready, Love?" He asked, positioning himself at my entrance.

"Mm-hmm," I replied, just eager to finally feel him, even after my two orgasms.

He slipped in slowly, allowing me to adjust to him. "Fuckkk," I whispered, head thrown back in ecstasy. After a few seconds of stillness, I longed for speed. "Move," I said quietly, gripping the sheets. As if something clicked in his head, Newt began to thrust, methodically and mechanically.

It wasn't long before his dexterous hand found it's way between us and began to circle my clit. The added stimulation filled me with fireworks of pleasure.

He let out little grunts with each movement, me adding to the sound with my high-pitched moans.

Before long, I felt his cock twitch inside me before he came. Although, he rather politely continued his motions until I too came with him.

I felt him pull out of me, leaving what felt like a gaping absence, before he layed down beside me, cradling my naked body.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do this, Love," he mumbled in my ear.

Yeah. Best sex-ed lesson ever.

Thank you so much for reading! Don't forget to leave requests in my inbox (read my pinned post first). See y'all next time with another story!

Also, please like and reblog because it helps promote my content!

-star ✨

[itsjustrosee]

HIII I'VE BEEN SO INLOVE WITH YOUR WRITINGS SO FAR 🙏

since your request is open I'm hoping you can write this for me (I cannot express my thoughts to a full on fan fiction to save my life💀)

Request: so like reader is a runner. Minho and reader were running away from a griever like frantically trying to lose it then Minho suddenly pulled reader to a small crack on the wall so they would lose the griever. The griever was just around the area trying to find the two that's why both of the runners were just there in the crack, close together, litterly body to body😼 and you know some friction started to happen 🔥but of course they just can't do the thing😣 in the maze💀 so like after the griever was gone they both ran to the Glade and ykykyk they continued what they started🤡

If you don't get it basically smut☹️

Hehee thank youu in advance😘😘😘!!!

literally love this concept, and I will gladly accept ur request <3

SMALL SPACES (Minho x fem!reader)

Summary: look above for summary ^ (I made this enemies to lovers btw I'm sorry I couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Cursing, spice, smut (I don't really use the glade language in this one)

Word count: 4.6K (proofread, but there still might be some mistakes)

Today was like any normal day for you. You woke up at the ass crack of dawn, sloppily put on your clothes, and excited your hut. You walked across the glade, taking in the rather peaceful atmosphere while you looked up to see the sun peeking over the maze walls.

"God, mornings really aren't your thing, huh? You look like shit." Minho chuckled as you approached him while he stood waiting for the maze doors to open. He wore his signature blue shirt, which was paired with his infamous runners' vest.

Minho stood there with that shit-eating grin on his face as you stood next to him, rubbing your eyes and stretching as you let out a groan.

Since coming to the glade as a girl, all the boys have been nice to you and dare you say, rather respectful. All of them except for Minho. You never knew what you had done that warranted Minho's hatred for you, but it didn't matter because the feeling was reciprocated.

You really only needed to deal with Minho's attitude or rude comments when you both were running the maze together, which, unfortunately, was quite often. You came to the conclusion pretty early on that the worst part of being a runner wasn't the concept of getting trapped in the maze or being eaten alive with a griever, it was dealing with Minho's bitch ass.

"Not even a good morning. Starting the day off strong I see." You sigh, glaring at Minho while he checks the time. The doors should be opening soon and you wished that Ben and the other runners hadn't gotten totally hung over from the bonfire last night, resulting in them being in the medhut this morning with some really strong headaches. And it was because of that that only you and Minho would be running the maze together today.

"You know me," Minho replies while giving you a wink. You scoff at him, reminiscing about how you'd much rather be where you were ten minutes ago, sleeping in bed. "You know which parts of the maze we're running today right?" Minho asked, changing the subject.

"Yup, the outskirts of section six." You say as you roll your eyes, not bothering to mask the attitude in your voice. You put your hands on your hips, facing the maze while tapping your foot on the ground impatiently. You were ready for the maze doors to open so you could stop having to talk to Minho.

You knew yourself and you knew you wouldn't be able to stand talking to Minho much longer without giving in to the strong urge you had to maul him. But maybe then you'd finally be able to ruin his perfect hair.

I mean, how dare he have the nerve to wake up this early in the morning and look so put together. It wasn't fair.

"Well, someone's more grumpy than usual," Minho says, noticing the slight scowl you have on your face.

"I'm not grumpy." You reply while continuing to stare at the maze doors.

"Right," Minho says sarcastically before continuing, "You're going to get wrinkles if you keep making that face. Just letting you know." Minho explains as he lifts up his hand and brings it towards your face. He's about to tuck a fallen piece of your hair back behind your ear and you feel a faint blush beginning to spread on your cheeks. For a second, you're tempted to let him, but that's until you come back to your senses, slapping his hand away as you do so.

"You just love pissing me off, don't you Minho?" you snap at him as you turn to face him.

"I'd say I love seeing your reaction to me pissing you off much more," Minho replies with a smirk as he stands confidently, bringing his hands up to his chest and latching his fingers onto the snug space between his runners' vest and his shirt.

"What, seeing me get mad?"

"No," Minho says while taking a step towards you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer, his face now mere inches away from yours. "Seeing when I get you flustered." Minho finishes as he towers over you.

You look at him, shocked, and quite frankly, very bewildered.

Was he right? Yes, he definitely was, but you'd rather get stung by a griever than openly admit to that.

Nonetheless, it's safe to say his comment was exactly helping to calm the heat you felt on your cheeks from before now spreading like wildfire across your face.

You opened your mouth to say something in reply which would've been some sort of string of insults at Minho, but before you could, you both turned your attention to the maze doors which began to open. The stone screeched as whatever mechanism was built into the maze pulled the doors apart, revealing the maze and its seemingly infinite number of twists and turns.

As the doors came to a halt, a cold gust of air that the maze emitted whenever the doors opened or right before they closed, hit you and Minho. No matter how many times you felt it, it never failed to give you goosebumps all along your spine. The feeling of the wind on your skin made you remember the fact Minho's hand was gripped firmly around your wrist. And for some reason, instead of deciding to pull your wrist free right away, you decided to let him keep his hand there.

You exhaled a long and deep breath, one that you didn't even know you were holding in. You decided not to say anything else about what Minho had just said for the sake of being scared of where the conversation might lead.

So without warning, you jogged into the maze, pulling your wrist away and leaving Minho behind you.

"Hey wait up. Where do you think you're going?" Minho asked breaking into a sprint to catch up with you as you made sharp turns around corners of the maze.

"Where do you think?" You counter with an irritated voice.

"You know how to get to section six?" Minho questioned again, jogging up next to you.

You rolled your eyes but remained quiet. Speaking to Minho right now was taking up too much of your energy. All you wanted to do was stay quiet and focus on actually doing your job.

"Oh, so you're ignoring me now?"

Silence

"Fine. If that's what you want. No more talking." Minho said with an exasperated sigh.

And that's how the majority of the day continued. You and Minho mapped any remaining parts of the sixth section, though there wasn't really anything new to jot down, and stayed silent.

Even while you and Minho sat and ate lunch, neither of you spoke. You were determined to not be the one to break the silence and to be quite honest, you appreciated the quiet. But part of you missed the banter that you and Minho would get into. It helped you cope with the fact that almost the entire maze was mapped but there still didn't seem like a way out. And all in all, to you, your bickering and arguing could actually be quite fun at times, and it distracted you from having an existential crisis.

As hours began passing, you and Minho drew your searches for new areas of the maze to a close and began heading back towards the glade. You were beginning your trip back far earlier than normal, considering you were far out in the maze and not very close to the glade. If anything, it would be better to get out of the maze early than have the doors close before you could get back in the glade.

You jogged through the seemingly endless turns of the maze. Both you and Minho had gotten tired from today's work. You felt your legs burn and your energy dwindled with each stride you took toward the maze's doors.

You both couldn't have been too far from the glade when you heard it. Maybe you were ten or so turns until you reached the door, standing in a path that branched out in three different directions. One path was to your left, one to your right, and one straight ahead of you. You and Minho planned on taking the one straight in front of you to get back to the glade. However, you stopped dead in your tracks after hearing that sound, one in which you knew all too well.

The blood-curdling screech pierced the air, echoing along the walls as you and Minho just stood there. The worst part wasn't hearing the griever, but more the fact that it was far closer to you than you had anticipated.

You looked at Minho for some sort of reassurance. You wanted to convince yourself that maybe you were just hearing things, maybe you were actually just going crazy. Unfortunately, Minho's expression stayed stoic but you could see the fear in his eyes which honestly scared you more. Minho had been a runner for a while, much longer than you, so to see his carefree attitude change to something more wary and serious was new for you.

After standing in that spot for a couple moments, unable to move any part of your body, all of your worst fears were confirmed as you saw a griever turn a corner and run down the long passage of the maze that was in front of you.

Your breath hiched and for a split second, all you could do was stare. Stare at this disgusting, gruesome, and fucking terrifying creature. It was as if someone picked up a monster from your nightmares, something only your imagination would be able to conjure up, and placed it right in front of you. Something as horrifying as whatever the fuck that creature was, shouldn't have ever existed. But it did. And it was headed straight towards you.

Unlike you, Minho reacted quicker upon seeing the griever. "Come on. We need to go. Now!" Minho yelled, grabbing your wrist as he sprinted down the corridor to your right. Seeing the griever was all you needed to regain all the energy you had lost from running all day, and you quickly followed suit after Minho.

You ran as if your life depended on it, and in this case, it did. Literally.

Minho held onto your wrist tightly as he led you through the maze, the griever was hot on your tail and you both knew you wouldn't be able to outrun it for much longer.

Minho led you both into a different passage and ran down it frantically. Suddenly he pulled you into what could've been considered as a crack in the wall.

Most of the passageways in the maze ranged in various different widths. Some corridors were larger or smaller than others, but the one he had pulled you into had been smaller than you could've ever imagined. It would've been easier if you had gone in side-by-side, but at this point, that was a bit of an afterthought. Minho placed you in front of him as you both squeezed into the passage, desperate to escape the griever.

Your backs were up against opposing walls of the crevice, causing your chests to be pressed against one anothers. His hands were now placed firmly on your hips, pushing you into him as he attempted to eliminate more space around you in order to shuffle both of you further into the slit in the wall.

To be fair, you had to give Minho some credit because the griever wasn't able to reach either of you and trust me, it tried. Even as it left, both you and Minho knew it would still remain in the area, waiting for them to leave, so they would just have to wait it out.

You waited there for at least an hour already and the only issue was, of course, the lack of space. You had your hands on Minho's chest while his were gripped tightly around your waist, all while you did your best to keep your face away from his.

You would be lying if you said the tension in the air wasn't palpable.

Heat radiated off of Minho's body and beads of sweat laced your forehead. You didn't know how you could last another minute, let alone possibly another hour with your body pressed against his like this.

"It's only going to get more awkward if you don't say anything," Minho said while sighing, finally breaking the silence that had filled the air for some time. For the first time since you both got into this mess, you looked at him.

He looked just as tense as you did and you felt something in the atmosphere between the two of you shift. There was more of a longingness in the air, almost as if there was some sort of unspoken tension between the both of you.

"I don't get you Minho." You said as Minho gave you a confused look and you weren't quite too sure what you were going with it either, but you continued nonetheless, "It's like one day you hate me, then the next you're flirting with me. Seriously, is it just to tease me? Do you just like getting any sort of reaction out of me?" You said as the words just began to spill out of your mouth.

"I don't hate you," Minho replied, clenching his jaw. It almost seemed as if there was more he wanted to say but there was something that had stopped him from saying it.

"Then what is it Minho? What's your problem?" You asked with anger in your voice which was mixed for some reason with a twinge of sadness.

"The problem is that I like you (Y/N). I like everything about you." The look in his eyes matched the sadness you felt as he continued, "I've liked you for the longest time. I never said anything about it because I'm basically your boss and I didn't want to make things weird. I know that doesn't excuse me for being a dick but-" He paused, "I'm sorry. I mean it, I really am."

You looked at him, stunned once more by his words. Like a dam, all of the feelings you've had towards Minho flowed out at once. You had always vowed that you never liked Minho, not even as a person, but you knew that was far from the truth. Minho was the only boy in the glade that you had ever felt attracted to and it was safe to say the both of you had been denying that feeling for the longest time.

"Please, say something," Minho pleaded with you, looking down into your bright (E/C) eyes.

You wanted to say something. Really you did. But you just couldn't find the right words to say, so you didn't say anything at all. Instead, you kissed him. I mean, actions speak louder than words anyways, right?

You closed the small gap your face had with Minhos as you crashed your lips into his. Minho quickly got over his shock and reciprocated the kiss. In all truth, kissing Minho felt exactly as you dreamed it would. He was gentle yet passionate with you and if one thing was sure, he definitely took his time with you, savoring every part of your mouth as you allowed his tongue to enter it.

Minho drew away from you for a moment, "So I'm guessing you don't hate me anymore?" He asked, his lips already swollen from kissing you.

"We'll see about that." You answered with a cheeky grin on your face as he kissed you once more.

You melted into his touch even further than before, snaking your hands around his neck while he pulled you closer to him. As the kiss continued, it became more desperate and hungry, and neither of you could hold yourself back from each other.

At that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the fact that a griever was trying to kill you, or even that you were stuck in a giant maze. The only thing that mattered to you right now was Minho.

Minho drew away, biting your bottom lip as he continued to kiss you down your jaw and Neck, making you pull your head back slightly and moan. You felt Minho get hard under you, and it wasn't helping that the bulge from his jeans was positioned right by your throbbing core.

Though you could've stayed there, letting Minho kiss you all over, your mind reminded you of where you actually were. Part of you wanted to say fuck it, I'll take Minho right here and right now, but the more logical part of your brain knew you needed to get out of the maze now before the doors closed. And by now, the griever should've been long gone.

"Minho," you said breathlessly as he looked back at you after leaving marks all over your neck and collarbone. "We need to get back to the glade." You finish. You could see the look in his eyes and clearly, he had the same moral dilemma as you did a moment ago.

"Right- yeah, you're right let's go," Minho replied as you both did your best to squeeze out of the tiny crevice you had both wriggled yourselves into. Minho checked for the griever and thankfully it was nowhere to be seen.

Minho interlocked his fingers with yours as you ran through the maze, navigating its bends and corners. His grip was firm and protective and he was extra alert, checking behind and in front of you every so often.

Eventually, you both found yourself back in the glade with barely any time to spare. You let out a sigh of relief as you stepped onto the bright green grass, putting your head down and letting go of Minhos hand as you placed your hands on your knees while you panted.

The doors let out that familiar gust of wind and began to move once more, closing you into the glade for yet another night.

"What happened to you guys? We thought a griever got to you or something," Newt joked, walking up to you and Minho by the maze doors. You could tell a wave of relief passed over his face as he saw you both exit the maze and after he noticed that neither you nor Minho were injured.

You stood up straight again, putting your hands on your hips and giving Minho a look. You were about to tell Newt about the very close-to-death experience you and Minho just had, but before you could say anything, Minho spoke first, "Nope, we just spent too much time exploring. We made a lot of progress though." He lied.

You gave him a puzzled look. You both definitely did not make 'a lot of progress', not unless he defined 'a lot of progress' as rerunning areas of the maze you had already seen and mapped.

"We did?" You asked looking at Minho but he cut you off slightly as he continued.

"Yup, we did," Minho said grabbing your wrist and walking past Newt, "That's why we need to go to the maze room now," Minho concluded.

"Don't you guys want to eat something? Fry just made his stew, I'm sure you both are hungry by now," Newt asked, a little confused over Minho's urgency. For a while, Minho had started just grabbing a bite to eat before going to the maze room or bringing some food to the maze room as he mapped, but apparently, today was different.

"We're okay. Thanks though Newt." Minho said, still dragging you away as he waved goodbye to Newt who was left just standing there looking just as confused as you were.

After you both walked far enough away from Newt, Minho's grip on your wrist softened slightly, and soon you were both almost at the maze room.

"So are you going to tell me what that was about?" You questioned.

"Oh come on. Do you really think I'm going to let you get away with not finishing something you started?" Minho asked, pulling you into the maze room, closing the door, and sitting you down on the table in the center of the room. He stood in between your legs as he placed both of his hands on your hips, leaning his face into yours, leaving barely any room between your lips.

You chuckle slightly while looking at him, "A little eager aren't we?" You ask him while you place one of your hands on his nape and the other on his cheek.

"How could I not be? I've waited far too long for this," Minho counters, one of his hands traveling up your side as the other stayed on your hip.

You thought the tension was heavy in the maze, but now it had grown ten times greater in here.

A deep sense of longing and desperation filled the air as you looked at Minho again, meeting his eyes as you spoke, "You're not the only one who's been waiting."

And with that, Minho's lips found yours. You clung to him as you wrapped both of your hands around his neck. Minho reciprocated as he wrapped one of his arms around your back, bringing you even closer to him, while his other hand allowed itself to travel under the back of your shirt and up your spine. The feeling of his hand lingering up and down your spine sent shockwaves through your entire body.

Minho began kissing you hungrily and passionately, and being the sexually deprived teenager he was, he already grew hard again. You felt the bulge from his jeans press against your heat and you soon began to long for more of him.

You and Minho were quick to take your hands off of each other for a moment to take off your runners' harnesses. Your shirts were on the ground soon after, and you couldn't help but stare at Minho's figure as he stood in front of you.

God, this man was the definition of hot.

The way the muscles on his bicep flexed as he took off his shirt was quite possibly the most attractive thing you've ever seen. Not to mention that each and every one of his muscles was toned and defined.

Minho noticed your eyes linger on him, "Someone's staring." Minho stated as he lifted your chin up with his fingers, fiddling with the zipper of his jeans with his free hand while he did so.

"Can you blame me?" You ask, taking off your shorts and letting them fall on the ground, "You're hot Minho. I can't help but stare." You say as you begin to sit up straight. You tilted your head and placed your arms around his neck once more, staring up at him with a puppy dog-eyed expression.

Minho, who clearly isn't used to receiving praise for his looks, is floored. It's safe to say the compliment went straight to his dick because you could feel him grow even harder under you. You chuckle as you kiss Minho once more and this time, he melts into your touch completely.

Minho moves one of his hands to your back, the other moving up your thigh until it reaches your soaked panties. He moves them to the side so that he has access to your pussy and he places two of his fingers between your folds, rubbing you up and down.

A moan escapes from between your lips as you throw your head back, relying on the arms you have wrapped around Minho's neck and the hand he has on your back for support.

"So wet for me already," Minho chuckles to himself as he continues rubbing circles into your clit. Suddenly, he pushes one of his fingers into you, causing your body to jolt in pleasure and surprise.

He adds in his other finger and begins pumping them in and out of you, agonizingly slow. As if a reflex, you roll your hips against his hand and moan his name. You fail to suppress your soft whimpers as he picks up the pace, making you drown in pleasure.

"Minho please, I want you." You breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Want me to do what baby?" Minho asks as you bring your head back up to look at him.

"I want you inside me." You confess. "Please," you whimper, on the verge of begging him.

Minho kisses you softly as he takes his fingers out of you and you use your elbows to prop yourself up. Minho pulled his boxers down so they pooled at his ankles and his cock sprang out, hitting his stomach as he did so. His cock was long and hard as beads of precum dripped down from his tip. Fuck he was massive.

Minho lined himself up with your entrance and with one swift push, he entered you fully. You gasped as you sunk into him further. Your walls stretched around his girth and the quick pain you felt as he made his way inside you was quickly replaced by pleasure.

"Fuck- you're so big," You moaned out, as Minho began his thrusts.

He groaned as he began moving in and out of you. The pleasure both of you felt was unmatched as Minho gripped your hips, using them to help guide his movements.

"God you feel so good," Minho panted as he continued to thrust in and out of you.

Minho kisses you again, messily and sloppily as he continues with his movements, but neither of you can focus on kissing the other, not when he is pumping in and out of you. You couldn't help but savor what it felt like with him inside you. The way he filled you up made you feel like you were on cloud 9.

Minho kept mumbling out words of praise while he moved in and out of you and he could tell by the way your walls began to squeeze around him, that you were close. And you could tell that he was close by the way that his thrusts began growing more sloppy and desperate. But maybe it was him removing one of his hands from your hip to apply more pressure to your clit as he rubbed circles into it, that pushed you over the edge.

"Minho I'm going t-" You began to say as your voice broke but you couldn't finish your sentence before letting out a loud moan. A wave of ecstasy crashed over you all at once and you threw your head back in pleasure.

Minho groaned as he pushed into you with one final thrust, filling you up completely. It took a moment with the both of you panting before he pulled out.

You sat up straight as Minho brought his head towards your ear, "You did so well, you know that, right, baby?" Minho whispered before meeting your eyes. You gave him a smile and he gave you a soft kiss. "Want to grab some food and then cuddle in my hut for the night?" Minho asked as he pulled away, picking up his scatted clothes and putting them back on.

"Mhm," You replied with a smile. Today was quite an eventful day and to be honest you were exhausted and Minho picked up on it.

"Are you tired?" Minho questioned as he grabbed your remaining clothing and put it back on you while you yawned.

"Just a bit," You replied with a chuckle as you hopped down from the table.

"We can go to be early tonight then," Minho said while wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you outside the maze room. You pecked him on the cheek as you both walked off.

____

Bonus

"Hey Minho I know it's your day off but I can't find (Y/N) anywhere. I checked her hut and then thought maybe you'd know wher-" Newt paused as he barged into Minho's hut to see Minho now sitting straight up in his bed. "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to your neck?" Newt asked, referring to the very obvious hickies you had ended up leaving Minho.

Minho was struggling for a response as you emerged from under the sheets in Minhos t-shirt, rubbing your eyes and looking over at Newt.

Newt looked at you both, bewildered and flustered as the dots finally connected in his brain. "You know what- Never mind. I'll leave you guys to it. Didn't mean to interrupt." Newt replied quickly, slamming the door on his way out of the hut.

You huffed and rolled back on your side in hopes of getting a bit more sleep. Minho gladly wrapped his arms around you and joined you.

Ok, this might be my favorite fic I've written so far. I'm really happy with how it turned out and I hope you guys like it too!!

Also, thank you guys again for all of the overwhelming support I've been getting. And thank you guys for 30 followers!!!!!!!!! I can't thank you guys enough for how kind you've all been, but seriously you're all so amazing and so sweet.

[luvlystarr]

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Prompt: Minho x Reader, he doesnt want you to be a Runner

Content: Fluff

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You and Minho never got along quite easily. Ever since you arrived at the Glade he paid little attention to you. You two always get into disagreements and arguments because of his sarcastic comments getting on your nerves all the time.

You tried your best to be polite knowing he is the Keeper of the Runners and that he’s the only way you could become a Runner. Yet no matter how much you prove your worth Minho always refuses you.

You’ve told him your reasons as to why you wanted to become one. All you wanted was to help everyone find a way out of this place in hopes to find a better life. But even after your heartfelt speech he replied with a harsh no.

So now you were stuck as a gardener, which wasn’t bad at all. Although it did get boring having to constantly dig up and plant things all the time.

The sun was glaring down at everybody outside, causing the air to be humid and warm. Luckily you were under a shelter, unbothered by the hot weather. Since there wasn’t much gardening to do left you decided to help Fry with cooking. You were chopping up some vegetables while he was stirring something in a pot. The two of you were cooking stew for everybody’s lunch.

You look outside to where the maze is, watching as Minho and Ben running back. You quickly look away before anybody catches you staring at Minho. But of course Fry noticed.

“(Y/N), stop staring or you’ll chop a finger off,” he teased.

You roll your eyes in response and continue the task at hand. Everyone in the Glade noticed your tough relationship with Minho, they would always tease you two about acting like an old married couple.

You didn’t want to admit it but you did look up to Minho. He was strong, smart and always looked after the other Gladers. You just couldn’t understand why he’s always so harsh to you.

You avert your thoughts back onto the chopping board in front of you and focus on cutting the vegetables properly. From a distance you could hear somebody’s footsteps approaching, you didn’t need to turn to see who it was.

“Hey, Minho,” Fry greeted him.

“Hey,” Minho huffed before pouring himself a cup of water.

His eyes landed on you, you could feel him staring intently. You felt pressured under his stare, distracting you from what you’re doing. It must’ve slipped your mind that you were literally holding a sharp object and it only occurred when you felt a sting on your finger.

You let out a hiss of pain as you immediately dropped the knife. A small but deep cut was on your finger with a small portion of blood seeping out.

Before Fry could ask if you’re okay Minho stepped in.

“(Y/N), you alright?” Minho asks while quickly rushing towards you.

You nodded your head but your face was grimacing at the sight. “Yeah..” You muttered.

“C’mon, I’ll take you to the Med-hut.” He gently laid a hand on your shoulder before leading you out of the kitchen.

“Minho, I can handle myself perfectly fine—“

“Just go with me,” he sighs.

“I’m pretty sure Fry has a band-aid.” You try your best to protest since you know Minho just came back from the maze and you didn’t want to burden him. But he kept moving you forward.

You look back to Fry with a look of help in your face. Instead you were greeted with him grinning at the two of you.

Not long after both you reach the Med-hut. Minho quickly asked for a band-aid from Jeff and began patching you up.

“I can do it myself,” you say while trying to push his hands away.

Minho’s grip stayed firm but still gentle around your wrist. It didn’t take long for him to finish.

Now you were getting mixed signals. At first, you were a hundred percent sure that Minho hated your guts, but now he’s here tenderly caressing your hand.

“Why are you acting like you care all of a sudden?” You blurted out without thinking.

Minho was taken aback by your words. “What are you talking about?”

You quickly turn your head the other way, hiding the way your face flushed from embarrassment.

“You always ignore me and argue with me. Just like when I asked to become a Runner. Why are you suddenly looking after me now?” You ask.

Minho sighed deeply, still keeping your wrist in his hand.

“You don’t understand,” he spoke under his breath.

“There’s a reason why I don’t want you to be a Runner,” he says with a stern expression.

You pry your hand away from Minho’s grip and glare back at him. “Is it because you think I’m not capable?” You spoke with bitterness in your voice.

Minho crossed his arms, avoiding your gaze. “No, I know you are.”

“Then why won’t you let me? You and the others need all the help you can get and you won’t even accept my help—”

“I refused because it was the only way to protect you.”

You stare at Minho, speechless and dumbfounded.

“What?”

He finally looks back at you. His eyes were filled with worry. A genuine look you’ve never seen on him before.

“It’s dangerous in the maze. What if you get chased by a Griever and get stung, huh?” His voice rose a little, leaving you stunned.

Minho quickly noticed how you reacted to his response. He took a moment to recollect his composure.

“If I lose you I won’t be able to forgive myself,” he spoke in a softer voice.

He slowly wraps his arms around your body. His strong arms held you close to his body as delicate as possible, almost like you were fragile.

“I really care for you, (Y/N), I really do,” he muttered. “I did what I know is right.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words. Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around him as well.

Although you still want to be a Runner, you understand Minho’s side of the argument.

“I understand now,” you replied.

The two of you bask in each other’s comforting presence. After a moment you could’ve sworn you felt Minho press his lips against your temple. His small gesture caused your heart to skip a beat.

As it turns out, there’s more to Minho than his harsh, sarcastic demeanour.

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[crvngefrvll]

I Wished someone would love me the way Newt loves Thomas and the way Thomas loves Newt :(

(Canon)

CAUSE TELL ME ABOUT Newt having a limp, having a mental illness, and getting his body slowly ripped apart and eaten away by the FLARE and Thomas will still carry his body and look into his eyes like he's the most beautiful person to ever exist in his life HELLO????

TELL ME ABOUT how he thought of Newt and held his hand many times???

TELL ME ABOUT how no other soul except Newt calls Thomas "Tommy" ???????????

TELL ME ABOUT how Newt got mad (jealous obv 🙂‍↕️) that Thomas "cares" more about Teresa????

TELL ME ABOUT "But from the moment you ran into the maze, I knew that I would follow you anywhere. And I have. We all have. If I could do it all over again I would, and I wouldn't change a thing." Cause bro are there any other fancier words to say " I love you" ???????

TELL ME ABOUT the letter Newt gave to Thomas as he was slowly turning into a crank and dying?

TELL ME ABOUT Newt dying in Thomas's arms?????

(Fanon)

TELL ME ABOUT HOW IN THAT *ONE* FANFIC noticing Newt's limp, Thomas slowly walks Newt through the scorch, hand in hand with him and never letting Newt out of his touch, and when Newt gets too tired he'll say, "It's okay, I can carry you there" (Thomas taking care of Newt especially when he's limping is just SKSSKAKAJKAKS)

Tell me about despite his physical and mental flaws, Thomas will look back to Newt and say, "I love you."

Tell me about despite all the terrors and fast paced events that they have gone through Newt will look back to Thomas and say, "You can't save everyone. I'm really proud of you and I love you, Tommy." (Ykyk Newt lives alternative)

I love Newtmas too much :(((

[noelan1]

Zoom in for better results 🤭

[ashley-foster-13]

Hi! Me again, I just can't stop reading tmr headcanons. Can I request 'what would tmr boys reaction would be if their S/O got kidnapped instead of Minho.' Thank you!

What would tmr boys reaction would be if their S/O got kidnapped instead of Minho

- His s/o was not the type to throw themselves in danger

- however, when the berg showed on the horizon, they were one of the first people to put their hands on a rifle

- Thomas got there late, and there was no s/o in sight, so he figured they were safe

- until they sprang out of nowhere, trying to tackle Janson

- the nearby soldier knocked them out right away

- Thomas struggled against the two soldiers holding him down

- misplaced his shoulder in the process

- he yelled the name of his s/o so loudly he probably wouldn't be able to speak for a week

- a huge fight started, during it the kids, including his s/o were loaded in the berg and took off

- being reckless as he is, Thomas managed to keep Janson off board, beating the living hell out of him

- soldiers stopped him, but not before Ratman was half dead and bleeding

- Thomas didn't hide his tears

- was terrified Wicked would experiment on s/o, or kill, or God knows what else

- wouldn't stop thinking about how to save them

- would do anything to get them out alive

- would have dreams when he saves them and hugs and kisses them, wakes up with tears of happiness streaming down his cheecks only to realize it wasn't real and cry some more, but in fear and sadness

- after saving his s/o, Thomas is super overprotective of them

- like, every little thing, a paper cut or a bruise or a slightly different voice would make him run towards them, asking if they were okay

- eventually came back to normal

- but we all know he's soooooo caring and protective

- the moment he saw his s/o in Wicked's arms, his world stopped

- however, he got out of his stupor quickly, trying to run for you, but the soldier kicked his bad leg, causing him to fall

- when he finally managed to stand up, s/o was already gone

- he kept yelling curses at them, kept hitting those injured soldiers who were left there to die

- it helped nothing and he knew that

- honestly, he could've murdered someone if not for Minho, who held him in a tight hug until he calmed down

- his anger turned to an agony

- he was crying hard, because he was in terrible pain, physically and emotionally

- he vowed to get s/o back safe and sound

- would be the first to find them, as if he felt where they were

- didn't let go of their hand until they reached the Safe Haven

- both didn't go out of the hut for a couple of days, talking, crying and promising their love to each other

- when he barely escaped being captured by Wicked, he thought the victory was there

- little did he know they grabbed s/o instead

- s/o bravely fought the soldiers, but Minho couldn't see it

- and then his s/o stands on the berg, helplessness in their eyes as they take off

- and Minho just stands there, angry at Wicked, and furious with himself for being unable to help

- Newt and Thomas promise they'll find his s/o

- he became very grumpy after that, but also really really silent

- sometimes his bottled up feelings would unleash on everyone because of any little thing

- like a stupid question, or a fallen fork

- he wpuld be so eager to find his s/o he didn't even think when he stalked inside the Wicked headquarters fighting off every soldier like they were bugs

- he found s/o exhausted, hurt and bleeding

- but they were alive, that's all that mattered

- hugged them all the way back

- watched as the medics patched them up, controlling everything

- never leaving their side while rlthey recovered

[victoriandrama]

Moodboards inspired by my newtmas ff Which could mean nothing <3

I forgot which one of these I'd already posted, so I just added them all

Also guess who just finished writing the next chapter after a two-month break. Yes, meee 😭

I’ll post it tomorrow after some editing <3

[mae-gi-writes]

Finders Keepers | Gally [TMR] - Part 2

In which Gally gets soft for one of the boys in the Glade, only…is it a boy? alternatively; In which Mai disguises herself into a boy to fit in the Glade, only to be suspected by the keen eyes of the Builder's Keeper.

Taglist: @edynmeyer1 @ss28

Also available on Wattpad.

PREVIOUS || NEXT >>

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The first time Gally's knowledge about the new Greenie gets challenged, is a few weeks after his first arrival.

Truth to be told, the Builder was surprised at the new boy's tiny stature when he first emerged from the Box. His limbs were frail and looked sickly, his face so tiny, tinier than Newt's, and he was about five feet four, barely reaching above Gally's chest. Needless to say that he was less than impressive. Physically anyway.

He attributed it to thinking that maybe Mai was young, and so brushed it off as part pf the Creator's plan, no matter how twisted and sick they got.

But the first time Gally gets suspicious, is one very specific night.

It's been a few days since his last conversation with the Greenie during dinner and it seems that he's made himself quite comfortable with Frypan in the kitchen. It's currently evening and everyone's slowly falling into bed after a hard day's work. Gally has been speaking quietly to one of his Builders, only to realize that he hasn't showered yet.

"I'll be back." He says, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes from his hut, a towel slinging over his shoulder, before he walks in the direction of the showers.

The stalls are further away in a more hidden part of the forest, far enough that it gives you some semblance of privacy for those who don't feel comfortable bathing in the open. Gally doesn't really mind, it's just a shower after all, and they're all boys.

He walks through a few of the scattered branches along the paved off trail they'd created, before his ears pick up on the sound of running water.

Probably a lone soul, he thinks, before pushing open the wooden door.

"Oh shuck!"

No sooner has he stepped in that a towel is suddenly flung in his face. Gally yells out in shock, stumbling back in surprise as his hands try to find purchase onto the wooden walls of the half-built stall. He's so busy trying to get it off him that he barely register's a voice screaming:

"Don't look!"

"Wh—"

"I said don't look!"

"Okay okay fine!" He yells back, holds out his hands in a semblance of mercy, "I won't look."

Silence. And then, the voice speaks again with hesitation, "you—you promise."

"Yeah," Gally pauses, "yeah I promise."

Why is he even promising such things?! This is ridiculous! Gally has every right to rip this towel off him and yell bloody murder about how rude this is— but something in that person's voice has him hesitating. There's fear and something else, something he can't quite put his finger on.

So he waits, as promised.

And after a few minutes — or what feels like eternity, the voice re-emerges, "alright. I'm done."

Slowly, so as not to scare off the boy, Gally reaches up to pull off the towel from his face.

"Mai?"

His eyebrows rise in surprise, but the said boy seems to be intent on averting his eyes. His hair, freshly washed, falls into his face and for a minute he looks so lost that pity swells in the Builder's chest.

But then, logic breaks through and prompts him to ask, "what are you doing, you slinthead?"

"I--I'm sorry I panicked."

"You panicked? For what?" Gally rolls his eyes but the flush taking over Mai's face is enough to cause him to soften a little. He proceeds to dump his own towel and change of clothes onto the latter's shoulders, "right. Since you're here, might as well prove yourself useful."

"Wha--" Mai stutters out, red in the face, and Gally lets out a sigh of exasperation. He pushes the younger boy out of the shower stall, "stop being such a wuss, Greenie." before slamming the door in Mai's face. -----

For a minute, Mai stands frozen. Not sure what to do.

Here she is, holding Gally's -- yes, Gally -- clothes and towel as if they're casual friends, as if they're more than passing acquaintances. She's not sure what to do with them, not certain whether she should be chucking them over the stall and making a run for it. That idea sounds tempting, but Mai's too much of a coward to face Gally's wrath afterwards.

So she decides to stay, biting her lip upon hearing the faucet twist and Gally's tired sigh. He sounds like he needs that shower, and yet why can't she stop picturing his broad shoulders without his shirt? Is is chest as defined as it looks? He's so tall, Mai wonders whether he gets it from his dad or his mom. And his arms...

Stop it! She snaps herself out of her daze, what is wrong with you?

Her cheeks are burning when she reaches up to touch them, and Mai quickly tries to think of something else to calm down her heart that's suddenly beating like a hummingbird in her chest.

It's not like she's blind either. Gally is attractive, mainly because he's so huge and tall and everything that girls would want in a guy. So can anyone really blame her?

She's so caught up in her own thoughts that she doesn't hear Gally until he shouts out her name two or three more times.

"--Mai! Don't tell me you ran away you shank!"

"Oh--uh--I'm here!" Mai fumbles with the towel, wondering whether she'll be able to chuck it at him. But the shower door swings open a fraction, enough for Gally's hand to pass through.

She swallows, watching as his bare hand grabs onto the towel and disappears behind the wall. Next come his clothes, and she almost sighs in relief when the Builder finally steps out fully clothed, hair damp, and skin glowing red from the shower warmth.

Gally's swiping the towel through his hair upon noticing her staring at him, "what?" he asks gruffly, voice echoing in a lower baritone that has Mai's spine in shivers.

She whips her head away, "nothing."

"You got a problem with naked guys or what?" he can't help but ask, side-eyeing her in the process.

"I--No! It's just--I--" Mai stumbles through words as she tries to rack her brain for a coherent response. Biting her lip, she finally mumbles out, "I'm not used to it, is all."

Gally hums, "Never heard of that one before. You like guys?"

The question comes so out of the blue that it takes the girl a few seconds to realize what he's asking of her. What he thinks she is.

And before she can think twice, she blurts out, "yes."

Gally's eyes widen. He looks at her for a minute as he digests the information. Mai looks back at him, cheeks blazing with red despite realizing that he might bully her for this kind of confession.

Maybe that's why she's quick to add, "don't tell anyone." she pauses, hesitates, "please."

There's a small pause, before Gally dips his head into a nod. Mai lets out a breath of relief. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to be the type of person that gives out useless gossip, nor does he seem like he'd blabber to any of his close friends. Bullying her though, that might be on his list of must-do's now that he's aware of her supposed sexual preference.

They're nearing the Glade now and Mai's readying herself to come up with an excuse when the Builder beats her to it.

"I want extra eggs."

Mai almost stumbles and catches herself. She blinks up at him, "you want—"

"Extra eggs in the morning. You heard me," Gally's eyes are intense on hers and he folds his arms, "or I can spill your dirty little secret—"

"It's not dirty!"

"Should I then?" Challenge glistens in his eyes, amusement dangling from his lips.

"No— ugh— fine. I'll give you extra eggs." Mai's shoulders slump. She just hopes no one will take notice of this sudden preference.

"And extra curry at lunchtime and dinner."

She throws him a glare, "that's too much."

"Then I guess I'll spread the word first thing tomorrow--"

"Okay fine fine! Yes, you'll get extra curry. Just--don't tell anyone." Mai feels like begging might prove useful at this point, the way Gally stands there looking satisfied of how much of a wreck she's being because of him, "please, Gally."

He holds out his hand, grinning, "it's a deal, Greenie." 

"My name is Mai," she mutters while gripping his hand. She can't help but notice how it engulfs hers entirely. Jesus, this guy's a monster.

"Good that," he's already turning to go back to his hut but then stops in mid-action, an amused smile thrown over his shoulder, "goodnight Greenie. And stop staring, you look like you might drool."

"Oh shut up Gally!" 

But the boy is already gone and walking away by then, his laughter echoing through the air. Mai rolls her eyes, grumbling under her breath as she makes it back to her own hammock squeezed in-between one too many. 

Great. She's definitely not looking forward to tomorrow.