#maze runner oneshot

[heliads]

requesting a tmr newt x gn!oblivious!reader, (they're still in the glade) where newt would be showing like tons of affection to reader(acts of service or others u prefer) but reader thinks newt is just being all friendly to them—maybe during a bonfire night he drunkenly confesses to them and they're like 'haha..wait what?' n end it w fluff:) idk like this is my first time requesting smt😞😞

masterlist

See, it really isn’t your fault that you didn’t notice Newt was in love with you

He’s nice to everybody, how could you be the exception?

Except, when Newt is nice to others, it’s usually asking them how they’re doing, or telling Gally or Alby to back off for a while

When Newt is nice to you– well, that’s a whole other situation

He brings a glass of water across the whole Glade because you mentioned you were thirsty once

Shiver by accident? His jacket is already around you

Minho jokes that Newt would become a Builder if you asked, and judging by the way the blond keeps asking if the Homestead is to your liking, he might not even be wrong about that

It takes dire circumstances for you to finally realize that Newt isn’t just being friendly because he wants to be your friend

Namely, plenty of alcohol and an extra special Bonfire Night

Forget the Greenie who brought on the bonfire in the first place, this isn’t about him

Newt knew this was his chance, although he didn’t expect to finally tell you his greatest secret by blurting out that he loved you four drinks in

At first, you thought he was joking– boy could hardly stand on two feet, let alone say something like that and mean it

But, as you looked in his eyes, you realized that this wasn’t just a figment of his sloshed brain

Newt was in love with you. Maybe always had been. Maybe always would be

And you? You loved him too

Newt woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and your hand in his

The headache was nothing, he had you, and that’s all Newt cared about

[lowkeyrobin]

Hii!! Is it possible to request a Minho x Reader Angst fic? I don’t have any real ideas for what i just rlly like angst😭

Anyway make sure you’re looking after yourself!!

YES 🙏🙏 I concocted the perfect idea for this so I hope you enjoy! ; thank you for requesting!! ; I wrote like a good chunk of this in geometry and physical science so this is actually kinda good lol ; also this is so damn long for me what the FUCK. ; also a bit of inspo in the end thanks to she by jelly roll...

MINHO ; they

summary ; minho loses you again

warnings ; language, guns & gun violence, explosions/bombs, death, he rips off your wckd jacket & top (not sexual), and a panic attack

disclaimers ; top ten most unneeded deaths in cinema

track ; she, jelly roll (again, not a word)

word count ; 2.5k

masterlist

Minho lost everything he'd been able to remember once he left the Glade, including you.

You were a smart thinker, which confused him as to why you stayed back with Gally and the other skeptics who didn't want to find escape in the maze. He tried so hard to convince you to come, but with such little time, he couldn't.

He'd spent months imprisoned mourning the loss of your presence. He didn't know how to function without you. He wondered where you were all the time, if you were even alive or not. He'd been wishing the best in your fate, in the scorch and back in the hands of WCKD. He missed your dorky smile and infectious laughter, hoping one day he could hear it again, even in the stars that he oh-so-missed gazing with you.

Your name scorched his heart every time it was spoken. Your face was engraved in his brain, to the point every time he thought of or imagined you, he'd fight back tears to stay strong. You were weaponized against him, being used to create false memories and episodes to help them find a cure.

Every time he'd wake up from a real dream where you were present, he'd end up in tears, to then have to cradle himself back to sleep. He'd been confined like this for months, then another few days before the bust. It was so, so much worse in the Last City, he'd rather have died in some horrific train crash then have missed his chance at freedom.

However, you survived. Gally did, too, though, even after Minho pierced his chest with a spear.

You'd joined some revolution gang together, learning to use guns and join the ranks. You'd been given bulletproof vests once you proved your worth, officially becoming part of the team.

Reuniting with Thomas, Fry, and Newt was a story in itself, but knowing, or at least hoping, that you'd see Minho again made your heart race in your chest. Gally took Thomas and Newt out to explore the perimeter of the city, letting you reconnect and catch up with Fry and get to know Brenda and her father figure Jorge.

Brenda grew fond of you quickly, liking your badassery and passion to overthrow WCKD. She knew you weren't into trying to kill innocents and understood that you wanted bullets in Janson's and Paige's heads, and you were willing to do it for free.

You showed her and Fry how to use the electro-guns, two you'd stolen from WCKD guards that defended the city walls. They're good for torture, but it was never your taste of tea, you left the others to do the sick shit. You wanted your friends back, you didn't even know they'd been free up til earlier today.

Once the trio came back, they set up a plan that you and Gally jumped in on to deflect and suggest ideas. It was set for tomorrow night, and you didn't know how to process it. You try not to think of Minho the rest of the night, which you awfully fail at, as you'd fallen asleep thinking of him.

You play out your role over and over again, overthinking every single detail down to the grade of gun you'd have strapped to your side. Gally, now your close friend after all this time together, could see your nervousness and anticipation.

"You okay?" He asks, leaning on the railing to your shared bunk bed. You slept on the bottom, him on the top.

You nod, arms sprawled over the top of your pillow, basically holding it like it was going anywhere. "I'm good. Nervous"

He nods, "It'll be alright, we're gonna get him back"

You'd stolen WCKD gaurd suits, your first priority. You and Gally walk around the perimeter of the building post getting the kids on the bus. Your masks are up to avoid any real guards noticing that you're fakes. He holds his bulky gun across his chest, while yours is angled with the safety on across your back. A hand rests over the pistol on your side.

You can feel your heart pounding behind your ribcage, the anticipation of seeing Minho and taking down WCKD killing you. Gally pats your shoulder for reassurance and nods forward silently, wanting to pick up the pace.

You notice explosions in the distance, firey flames illuminating the sky.

As you walk under the main area, you notice a fire extinguisher land in the modern pool, splashing water into the air as it sinks to the bottom. You hear yells, then three bodies plop into the pool. You and three other guards behind you run to the scene, while you and Gally lag behind, knowing who just showed up.

Thomas, Newt, and Minho rise out of the water, floating over to the side after Thomas sends Janson, standing in the bay of the window, maybe twenty stories high, a middle finger. They wade over to the edge and pull themselves out, guards hold them at gunpoint, leaving their faces shaken and in despair.

Gally acts first, shoving one of the guards into the pool, then you pistol whip the one on your right, and you together knock out the last guy. The boys stare at you two, confused as to why two guards had apparently saved them, their questions are quickly answered as Gally rips his mask off.

"Hey"

"Oh, you bloody genius!"

"Oh, shit"

"What the hell?" Minho mutters.

Laying your eyes on him again, even though that mask, it brought you nearly to tears. Seeing his eyes, so tired, his body clearly so weak from the mental and physical stress, your heart broke for him. You make sure your handheld gun had the safety on before tucking it away properly.

"Long story" Gally replies to Minho, knowing what he was thinking.

Minho, still in genuine shock, adrenaline coursing through his veins, looks to you, wondering if you were maybe Brenda or Fry. You bite the inside of your cheek before pulling your mask off, softly smiling at Minho.

Newt and Thomas smile, Newt much more weak, as he was beginning to crank out.

"Y/n?" He questions in disbelief. "How- am I dreaming again?"

You quickly pound the boy into a hug, the moisture from his body rubbing off onto your red and grey outfit. The mask lays on the concrete, where Gally kicks it into the water, same with his.

You hear him begin to sob, holding onto you so tightly in fear you'd disappear like all the times before. You rub his back with your dominant hand, which trails up his spine toward his nape.

"I thought you were dead" He cries, "They've been using you in those simulations-"

"It's okay." You softly speak, "We have to go, you can tell me all about it later"

He nods, eyes still widened in shock and confusion as you follow the other three as they quickly flee the scene.

You take cover by some bushes, leaving Newt on the side to rip his jacket off as he sweats profusely. The veins in his neck were bulging out of his skin, colored a matte black.

You couldn't help but stare, unable to listen to the others talk. You quickly rush to his aid, wanting to help him be the most comfortable he possibly could be.

You crouch down next to him, giving him some reassuring words that he'd be okay. You help him to his feet, where Minho is at your side.

Gally and Thomas lead the way as another explosion rings through the air near you. You duck your head as some loose shrapnel lightly hits your skin, thankfully not enough force given to puncture your face.

The explosions only become worse as you run through a little diner, having no alternate route around as the city was being blown to smithereens.

"God damnit, we said blow up the entrance, not the whole damn city"

Newt falls to the ground, too weak to walk as black ooze drips from his lips. Glass explodes behind you, in which you quickly shove Minho to the ground in front of you to protect him. You cover your head, letting the glass shards hit your protected back.

He gasps for air for a moment as Thomas and Gally prop him up against a safe wall, trying to talk to him. You and Minho follow suit, making a quick plan to go get the temporary cure from Brenda and Jorge, and run back to give it to Newt.

"Stay strong for me, okay?" Minho speaks, his hands on the blonde's shoulders.

He nods, his eyes clearly lost in a daze, his vision blurry and wobbly.

Minho pats his shoulder before standing up, letting you give him a nod of reassurance. You and Gally follow Minho, weapons drawn to protect him as he leads with his quick sprinting skills.

You three get one last look at Newt and Thomas before fleeing, working your way through the maze of buildings and explosions to get to your friends. Gally shoots a guard at his side while you do the same at about a 10'o'clock radius.

"This way!"

You follow Minho, the explosions so loud that they defeaned gunshots. The battery on your stolen WCKD gun runs out, and you toss it to the side, resorting to using your pistol to defend your friends. Another bomb nearly knocks you off your feet, causing you to stumble into Minho.

"Sorry!" You shout over the noise.

"You okay?" He shouts back, helping you balance on your feet again.

"Yeah!" You quickly reply, nodding forward for him to continue running to get the cure.

You make it down to the Berg, where Fry, Brenda and Jorge await your arrival.

"The cure!"

"We can't leave him here like this"

"We can't take him back-"

"We have to, please"

"It's too dangerous, we won't make it back to the Berg in time, or we'll get blown up carrying him!"

You stand at Minho's side, looking down at the blonde haired boy as he stands up. He wipes the tears from his eyes, looking at you.

"We have to leave him, Minho"

He nods, slowly placing the cure in Newt's cold hand. He takes one last look at him before turning away, waiting for anyone to speak and give orders.

Brenda speaks up again, deciding to get back to the Berg as fast as possible. You all follow her, guns out, ready to shoot whoever you had to at this point.

Minho turns to you as you run side by side, "Why are you here? Why are you putting yourself in the face of danger? To save me or something?"

You give him a little head tilt to act as a shrug, "You called"

"What?"

You shake your head, deciding to explain it once you were in the hands of safety. An explosion, which cause the ground to rumble beneath you, knocks you all off your feet and onto the hard concrete.

You all groan in pain, having fallen all over each other. Brenda had fallen onto Fry, and they both stumble to the side, apologizing to one another profusely. You'd fallen onto Minho, of course, and help him back to his feet.

You feel lightheaded, your face growing cold, odd for the amount of heat and fire and running around you'd been doing. You lean onto the boy, feeling woozy, as maybe you'd stood up to fast.

Then you fall to your knees, some invisible force knocking you down, your cargo pants ripping at the knees from the impact.

"Y/n!" You hear Minho shout, his voice echoey in your ears.

You hear three gunshots coming from each Fry, Gally, and Brenda. You look back, seeing a WCKD guard fall on their back after taking three shots to the head and chest. Minho's hands rest on your shoulder and on your cheek as he calls your name, asking if you're okay. You see his eyes glance down, where he quickly looks back up to not scare you.

You stand up, numb to any pain. He follows, making sure you're able to keep balance on your feet. He quickly rips off the bulletproof vest for you and your jacket, revealing the wound right under your collar bone.

You look down at it, then look back up at him, eyebrows furrowed. You look to the other three, eyes widened in shock and fear. Another explosion pops a few hundred yards away, shaking the ground again, though not enough to knock you all down once more.

Minho quickly shouts for anything he can use to keep pressure on the wound. He held his hand over it, as the bleeding was horrible at the moment. His hands are covered in your blood, considering the bullet that shot you went clear through you. You notice the bullet a few feet away, light flickering off of it as it rolls into the street where multiple bloody bodies lay.

Minho rips a piece of his shirt and stuffs it into the exit wound, ordering you to hold it there. He pulls you along as you continue running through the city. Your left arm rests over Minho's shoulders, not wanting to upset your other side. Considering moving, it would only agitate it more, and you were trying to keep pressure on the wound anyway.

As you reach the final yards to reach the Berg where Jorge and Vince wait, you collapse to your knees again, landing face first in the debris covered concrete. Minho falls with you, your weight having dragged him down. He tries to pull you up but notices the pool of blood forming around you. A thin, but large pool.

He calls your name over and over, then flips you on your back, where blood sputters out of your mouth. He quickly pulls you up, your back now held up by Brenda and Fry, who were quick to turn back. Gally crouches down on one knee and slowly removes the cloth from the wound, absolutely drenched in crimson.

"No, no, no, no. Not now! Y/n, get up, please," He pleads, watching Vince and Jorge rush to your aid. "They were shot by a gaurd, went clean through, there's so much blood-"

You reach your hand out to Minho as the men pick you up off the ground, where you stumble to walk with them. They practically carry you on their shoulders to the Berg.

Another explosion knocks you all to the ground again, leaving bruises on faces, arms, and legs as you're pounded onto the ground. You'd be lucky enough not to get AIDS at this point.

Minho stumbles to his feet, rushing to you as the men pick themselves up before you.

He notices blood spewing from the other side of your chest. He rips the extra layers of clothing off your torso, tossing your pistol to the side as well. Gally looks around, finger on the trigger of his gun, looking for a shooter.

"Stray bullet!" Brenda shouts, "Get them in there! Go! Thomas needs us!"

Minho places his hands under your arms and drags you into the Berg himself, all the children right in view of your slumped body. You choke on blood and air, feeling your face grow cold and pale. The liquid trails up into the aircraft, staining the hard metal red for the time being.

Vince jumps into the driver's seat, ordering the others to help you and how to before it's too late. Brenda stands next to him, trying to get any info out of Thomas through the walkies.

You wrap your arms around Minho, feeling the pain in your chest now as you grunt and cry. You squeeze onto the back of his shirt, the pain causing you to claw your fingers into him. He holds you, his heart breaking in two as you struggle to breathe.

The placement, it wasn't possible to keep you this time. It wasn't possible to keep you and be free in any situation, in any timeline, in any universe.

"I don't wanna say goodbye"

He sits on the beach every morning, talking to the sunrise as if you were there next to him. He didn't mind the sand that would pile up in his boots or the dusty grain that would stick to his hydrophoric hands all damn day if it weren't for the water there to wash it away.

His fingers traced over your name on the rock when he felt lonely, like you were magically there, hugging him again.

He'd never know for sure what you meant when you said that he called. He understood that you definitely didn't hear him call for you after awakening after nightmares, but maybe you did, he wouldn't have known. He guessed in a metaphorical sense, he did call for you, which you both knew, but it still confused him somehow. He wanted you to explain it all so he'd understand, like how you always did.

He regretted never being able to rant about all his feelings to you. He wished he had time to tell you about all he went through so you could reassure him that you'd protect him forever. You'd protect him from the nightmares and the scars, the mental baggage that would weigh him down forever.

He started crying himself to sleep after he began to forget your face.

He just wanted another hug, but your face was beginning to blur out. It sent him into a panic attack right there. No one was there to help him as he cried and clawed into the dirt, trying to ground himself again. He couldn't believe himself, he treasured you so much yet he was forgetting your face after merely a year after your dissapearance?

It didn't help that after a while, he began to forget your voice too, that hurt even more. He'd been forced to talk about his feelings to Thomas like a parent-child conference. He wasn't himself anymore.

His eyes were always swollen, eyebags dark and weighing his happiness down. He was depressed. Every smile he showed was just him trying to make his way through another day's work, distracting himself from the fact that he lost you, for good this time, he watched it.

He wrote letters to you with no address to send to. It didn't help whatsoever that he himself pushed you out into the sea once Thomas regained consciousness so he could say farewell. He watched it all, he knew you were gone this time. At least he had some sense of closure.

He had nothing left of you other than that WCKD jacket you wore, that haunted him as he slept. He only kept it because even with the logo of the corporation that tortured him for years and past the bullet holes in it, it provided him a little comfort that you were still there.

He found that telling stories of you to the younger kids helped.

"They were like the life of the party, bright smile, infectious laughter. They were the one everyone wanted to be around. You could see the sunrise in their eyes."

"Who were they to you?" One little girl asks.

"I don't really know" Minho shrugs, looking down at his hands for a moment.

"Where are they now?" A little boy asks, tilting his head.

"They're in the sky, they have been. They're stuck there. I hope I see them again" He replies with a little nod, looking up at the sun beginning to set up on the island.

"Why are they stuck in the sky?"

"They're afraid of coming down"

[masivechaos]

I ONLY KNOW YOU FROM BOOKS

newt x fem! reader

Request: yes / no

see the request here!

Synopsis: Being teleported into your favourite universe can be a stressful experience but you also get to meet your favourite character.

Warning/content: nothing i can think of, maybe one mention of death, as requested by dm reader is french and has a little accent!, my English

a.n.: 1.7k words- can be read as platonic!

masterlist/ tmr masterlist / navigation

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

Your head was hurting, your ears were ringing, the loud sound of mechanics happening around you wasn't helping. You slowly opened your eyes, taking the time to look around you. It seemed to be like an elevator filled with supplies, food and even animals. 

Suddenly, the motion stopped in a loud thump before a red light started to flicker. You started to panic a bit, you were lost and couldn't tell how you arrived here. Above you, the ceilings opened and you thought you'd maybe have answers to your questions. 

The sudden sunlight blinded you and you had to cover your face with your hands. You took a minute to analyse what was happening, people were chatting and it seemed like they were surprised to find you here. Your eyes were finally adapting to the light and you were able to discover the faces of the boys above you. You raised your eyebrow, surprised to find them wearing these types of clothes you never saw anyone wear anymore. You were even more surprised to find yourself wearing the same ones. 

A man shouted, making you jump in surprise, and everybody stopped talking before a blond boy went down into what you heard was "The Box". You swore you heard this noun before. "Hi," the sandy-haired boy greeted you, holding out his hand for you to take. "Can you remember your name?" he asked with a quiet voice, it seemed like he was trying not to scare you. 

Your eyes widened when you heard what he said, maybe you never heard of The Box, maybe you read about it. You took a time to observe the blonde boy. "What is your name?" you asked back.

It couldn't be true, it didn't make any sense. "Newt." Your mouth fell agape as you heard his name. Was it possible to teleport into a book? You looked more carefully at the boy and recognized all the descriptions you used to read about. You thought you were dreaming and pinched your arm to make sure you were truly awake. You felt the pain. It was genuinely happening. 

After a minute you realised Newt was still holding his hand out for you and you finally grabbed it. When you were on your feet you took the time to look around you and saw four huge walls enclosing the square of grass you were standing on. "Welcome to the-" 

"Glade..." you finished Newt sentence with a smile on your lips. The gardener shared a horrified look with who you recognized as Alby. The later asked Newt to bring you out of The Box. 

Finally by everybody's side, you were contemplating the Glade, trying to find everything you read about. But before you were able to see more you felt someone grabbing your arm. "How do you know where you are?" Ably asked you. "What's your name? Why are you a girl?" he continued his questions more and more aggressively, visibly panicked. 

"Um... it's a little complicated," you saw Newt making a weird face when you spoke. 

"What's that accent?" he asked. He would be smiling if you weren't standing there when you shouldn't be. That's the thing. Being able to read in English was something, being able to talk without an accent was another. 

"French," you said shyly. You were grateful they could still understand you but you felt a little dumb, standing there, in the middle of boys who either seemed like it was the first time they saw a girl- well it was actually- or like they wanted to directly throw you in the Pit without thinking about who you were. 

"Do you know why you're here?" Newt asked and you shook your head. You loved the maze runner universe but it wasn't the best one Destiny had chosen to put you in. Your survival skills weren't the best they had seen.

The tall boy you reckon must be Gally talked, pulling you out of your thoughts. "That's not what matters Newt! How do you know where you are? Everybody forgets what they know when they come here!"

"I know," you said quietly, timid under Gally's gaze. It was legitimate to be freaked out by your weird arrival here. But the thing was you didn't know how you came here. You knew who they were, you even knew their future, this thought sent a wave of questions in your mind but it wasn't the moment. The last thing you remembered was reading a book. You dug into your mind to find an answer. Everybody around you was waiting for you to talk and you felt intimated. 

Apparently, Newt could feel it because he sent everybody- except the Keepers- back to their work. The boys walked you to the Council Hall, they all seemed lost in their own thoughts. You awkwardly took a seat in front of everybody and bent your head down, even if you knew them you couldn't help but feel shy as they all watched you attentively. Alby finally started to talk. "First question. What's your name?" 

"Y/n," you said, trying your best to hide your French accent, it wasn't the moment to lose credibility, you needed to be trusted.

 "How much do you know about here?" 

"A lot." 

"How is that possible?" 

"Um..." there was no way there were going to believe you, you didn't even believe your own words as you spoke. "Well- I don't know exactly how I came here but..." you tried your best to search every bit of information your brain held. "It will sound crazy, but... I-in my world you don't exist." The boys in front of you looked septical at your explanation for the moment. "I know you all but from books. In my world, the maze, the Glade, WICKED and all of you are just ink on paper." You shut your eyes, refusing to look at them for the moment, you were afraid that their faces would tell you they were going to abandon you in the Maze. "B-but I don't know exactly how I came here, what kind of magic bought me here but now that I am there, I may know the way out."

This caught everybody's attention and while you thought it was going to be an argument for you to stay and not be killed, it seemed like they feared your even more. "Really?" Alby asked. 

"Yes," you said. "In my world, your universe has six books and right now you are in the first one," you took a deep breath, omitting the explanation with the sequels and novellas, this part was going to be complicated to explain. "You guys escape at the end of the first book. I read it multiple times, I think I can help you get out of here." 

They didn't answer anything before Minho talked "How do I know if what you're saying is true?" 

"Ask me questions." 

"How are we getting out of here?" 

"We can't until they decide we will. WICKED modify the sections every day. In the books, they escape when a guy named Thomas and a girl named Theresa arrive here but they have a special link with WICKED." You went on and on about everything you remembered, Ben's attack, Minho's night in the Maze, the doors staying open at night. You hesitated on talking about Gally's being stung and decided that there was already too much information. 

They carefully listened to you, something asking you to repeat because of your French accent or demanding you to explain further some points. You didn't know for how long you talked but your throat was sore and you terribly needed to drink "Can I have water?" you waited for them to calm down and stop talking before asking your question. 

Frypan left the room to grab you a glass and other Keepers decided to finally leave the room. It was just you and Newt now. "Are you okay?" he asked, he genuinely sound like he cared and your heart missed a beat and you nodded. "I think you already know everything but- do you want to discover the Glade?" 

You nodded, this time with a smile on your lips, you couldn't believe Newt was standing in front of you. He was a character you loved and cared about so much, it seemed unreal. 

You just had the time to receive your glass of water before you started your visit. Newt still took the time to explain everything as he would do with any greenie. Quickly the night fell and you knew what was waiting for you. The bonfire. 

The idea made you smile and you started to think about Gally's drink, was the taste as horrible as you read about? You didn't have to think a lot because you rapidly found yourself with a jar between your hands. "C'mon Greenie," Newt said with a tipsy smile, "Drink." 

When the beverage touched your tongue you tried your best not to spill it everywhere. It truly tasted disgusting. "What's inside?" 

"Ah! They don't tell you in the books?" Newt smirked and you shook your head. "Then I won't tell anything. It's not like I know anyway." With your back against a log, you gathered your legs to your chest, resting your head on your knees. You breathe happily. 

You couldn't express the way you felt but it was a peaceful moment. The sound of Gladers having fun, of the fire and the burning wood. Newt's laughter. He was the best part of all this.

He was making you feel comfortable, you weren't nervous at the idea of recreating what you read when you were by his side. You had to admit you had to resist the urge to just hug him. He deserved a hug so much. 

"Newt?" The boy turned his head to look down at you.

 "Yeah?" 

"You know in all the books I've read about all of you? You're my favourite character." You hoped you didn't sound weird but judging by the way his smile soften you were almost sure he was flattered by what you just said. 

"Why?"

You felt warmth winning your cheek "Well, I think you're brave. I only know you from books but- after everything you've been through you're still kind to everyone." You unconsciously looked at his limp. You continued to talk about the comfort he bought you before your smile faded "You always try your best and- and I think you deserve a happy ever after. The best happy ever after." You felt your heart clenching in your chest as you thought about the ending he had.

Newt was looking at you with a gentle smile, touched by your words. It was a weird feeling to have a stranger understand you so much. You knew what your goal was now. It wasn't just to escape and join the Safe Heaven. You were going to save Newt.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

⋆ ★ newt taglist: @cauliflowertree @moonlitmeeks @rhydianissuperior @toindeedbeag0d @princess-paramour @juneberrie @gilmore-angel @heartfucks @mystic-writings @garfieldsladybird @percy-the-hufflepuff @vancitycharlie

[pixiekiwi]

Left Behind | Newt

Hiii!! First post after a year and a half of inactivity!! Im finally going to start writing again becuz my bf has inspired me to start sharing my work again!! This is a very old one shot and I barely touched it b4 actually posting it because I need something to get my account bumpin again!! Anyways I hope you enjoy, hopefully I’ll post more soon :)

𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Inspired by Wait by the River, by Lord Huron!

Warnings: Angst, terribly written (written a year ago and just now posting!) also long asf.

Words: 1,634

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

People say time heals. But to you, time was the opposite of what you wanted. The more time passed, the more you missed Newt. The longer you spent apart from him, the more your heart ached, and burned.

He healed you, and without him- time is nothing but an aggravating evil.

Your heart tore in two pieces the day he left the Glade, choosing your brother over Newt. You were scared to leave, all you knew was the Glade. You remember the look of defeat on Newt’s face, how he welled up with tears as you gave him one last goodbye. How tight he held you before he was hurried by Thomas. You wished he never let go, you wished he never left you.

You were afraid, terrified even, but as you watched the love of your life leave the only home you’ve ever known you broke. Shattering like a mirror - splitting your ideals from reality. To follow him, you’d risk your life to do it.

Gally was watching you closely, you knew it. His eyes never left you when the blonde left you behind, he had a firm grip on your shoulder for comfort. You knew it was to also keep you within the Glade.

It was minutes later, your shoulder ripped from Gally’s hold, throwing yourself into the maze. Shouts of protest bubbled from the remaining boys in the Glade. Gally’s shout was the loudest, his own footsteps following behind you.

You weren’t worried about him catching you, as you had always been faster than him. You didn’t know the maze, for fucks sake you were a gardener with Newt, but you had seen the map. Minho was one of your closest friends, he shared everything with you. You had helped Minho study the map with Thomas, so you remembered generally where you were supposed to go.

The hard part was trying to fight the feeling that you were losing control of your own body. Your fingers had grown numb and your eyesight had fallen hazy. The further you ran down the path of the Maze, the less yourself you felt. You felt angry, angry that Newt would truly leave without you, angry with Thomas for cutting your goodbye so short. You couldn’t explain it, but you were angry with the world.

You had lost Gally minutes ago, you didn’t care. You needed to reach the group.

When you reached the Griever Hole you stopped in your tracks, and everything went black.

—

There you were again, you were in a new place, your surroundings electronic and gray. As the hazy feeling in your body faded you saw in front of you were your friends, Newt, Thomas, Minho- but something was wrong. Chuck, on the floor, bleeding.

That’s when you felt it, a flame of pain erupted in your chest. Looking down to your hand you realized you had something in your hand. A gun. You thought.

No, no, no, no-

You looked down to where the pain was in your chest, seeing a large sharp pole sticking what felt like, straight through your heart. You tried to gasp, as time seemed to pick up its pace, two bodies rushed to you. One catching you before you fell to the ground.

The two bodies were Newt and Minho, it seemed as though chaos was erupting around them and you. Light poured into the room, you could only hear Newt’s desperate cries.

“Please (Y/N) stay with me-” salty tears trailed down the blonde's face as he held you closely to his own body. Newts free hand grazed your dirt stained and sweaty face. Your skin was so pale, it made him sick. Minho stood above him, his face filled with fear. He was yelling at someone across the room, his angry words too distant to understand.

The soft touch of Newt’s hands sent you into a flurry of unexplainable emotions. You felt like you couldn’t breathe when he was holding you, although - the spear sticking out of your chest probably had something to do with that.

“I..” you tried your best to gasp out a few words, sorrow coating your tone, “I’m.. I’m so.. So sorry.” Tears welled up in your lashes, you couldn’t see anymore. Your vision was failing.

“(Y/N) please-” Newt’s voice echoed through your once again hazy mind, you could tell he was crying; his voice raspy, “Please don’t leave me, I.. I love you please baby.”

His heart wrenching pleas were the last thing you heard as you faded into nothingness once again.

–

Months passed without Newt, unsure if he was even alive. You and Gally had been saved by Lawrence and his group. Only being picked up moments after Newt had been snatched up by WCKD. It was scary, leaving the only home you’ve ever known, knowing you killed the sweetest boy you’ve ever met, Chuck.

After telling Gally how you weren’t even conscious when it happened; he tried to convince you it was WCKD who was controlling you. And although you knew this was true, you couldn’t help but feel as though it was you the whole time. You remember feeling angry before, but you never wanted to kill anyone.

And now here you were, perched on the large windowsill in Lawrence’s office, gazing out into the Scorch as your brother patrolled the outside of the Last City.

You were close with Lawrence, he grew to be like a father figure over you and Gally. You had confided with him about Newt and your friends in the Glade, and he understood. Lawrence himself lost a lot of friends, especially since he was half cranked-out.

Gally had been a big support system for you as well, he had comforted you through the nights you had cried yourself into exhaustion, missing the one person who made you feel whole.

You missed the warm summer nights in the Glade you spent with Newt, under the starry sky - wrapped up in his arms. He held you so tight, like he never wanted to let go - but he did.

“Y/N,” Lawrence’s raspy voice startled you from your thoughts, looking to the older man you noticed he was holding an orchid gazing at you quizzically, “Where did you go?”

You pulled your legs up to your chest, glancing out the window once more as you hummed in response, “Oh you know, wonderland.” You scoffed slightly at your own words, turning back to Lawrence.

Lawrence chuckled in response, his focus shifting back to the roses he was watering.

You sighed, your head resting on the window pane next to you. Closing your eyes tiredly - before you could pass out you heard commotion in the hallway. You sighed frustratedly, tucking yourself further behind the plants that guarded the windowsill. Maybe it was Gally finally coming back from patrol, you didn’t care though as you really just wanted to get some shut eye.

The door of Lawrence’s office flew open, causing your own eyes to snap open. You were hidden far enough in the window that you couldn’t make out who it was that had barged in so rudley.

“Gally- I’m glad to see you made it back, Jasper told me what happened,” the Crank man hummed his words.

“It was a slaughter,” The gruff voice of your brother seemed to cut through the eerie environment of Lawrence’s office, “there was nothing we could do against those guns.” Your heart sunk, you didn’t want to hear anymore - tuning out Lawrence’s response you played with your hands. Ignoring the aching feeling of sorrow in your chest, more people dead in an already deserted world.

Lawrences sudden sternness of voice caught your attention, causing you to tune into the conversation once more, “Now. Who are these people? Why are they here?”

Gally brought someone to Lawrence?

There was a tense pause of silence, and you held your breath, awaiting the unknown person to speak.

“We need to get into WCKD.”

The familiar voice sent you into a spiral of emotions, your body freezing up and going numb, was it really Thomas? You made a move to stand as Thomas continued speaking - “Gally said you can get us through the walls.” Your heart stopped, it really was him, his voice was more serious than it was back in the Glade, maybe even a bit fearful.

You froze before moving into sight of the others. You were preparing for the worse, what if Newt wasn’t with him? What if… You didn’t even want to think about it - your eyes welled up with tears as you hesitantly moved from behind the wall of plants.

You froze, looking to where the familiar group stood in front of you - each of their eyes now on you. Every expression showed surprise, but you didn’t care about that - your own eyes meeting the one person you missed so dearly. Newt.

You gasped - the tears that threatened to fall earlier now trailing down your face.

The blonde boy lurched forward, his arms around your frame immediately, crushing you with a force you didn’t know he had. His own shoulders seemed to shake - he was crying too.

You broke a sob as your arms wrapped weakly around his waist. You never expected to see him again, you thought he was gone.

“Newt- I’m so sorry,” your sobs broke through his chest as your arms pulled him closer to your body.

He shushed you immediately “No (Y/N), I shouldn’t have ever left you,” his own cries broke his composure- pulling you closer than ever.

Your head shook, apologizing over and over again while Newts lips kissed the top of your head, whispering how much he loved you.

This time, he truly would never leave you behind.

[wolfhard13]

BAHAHAHAHAHA OMDS I LOVE THIS🥰🥰😘❤️

Sleepyhead

Series masterlist, masterpost

Thomas x fem!Reader

Maze Runner (2009 novel - James Dashner, 2014 film - Wes Ball)

Word count: 1236

Summary: after a really great time the night before, it’s time for you and Thomas to face that maybe the acoustics of the Glade are not ideal for couples. 

Content: implied sexual content (so heavily implied it’s not even “implied” it’s just not explicitly written), Thomas being a clingy little shit, fluff, morning after fluff, bad dialogue. 

Notes: I actually have nothing to say for myself, enjoy some semi-domestic fluff. 

Keep reading

[illloveyoutillidie]

Hello:))) been reading ur newt hcs and absolutely adored them YOU WRITE HIM SO SWEET. But i was wondering if you would do newt cuddling hcs with a f!reader please? (I haven’t requested for you before so if this isn't the type of thing you do just delete this lol)

thanks<3

hello anon!! i'm happy you like those!! i think that newt is the type of person that treats their s/o gentle !! i hope you like this:))))

Newt who can't keep his hands to himself when you're both cuddling. Newt who would pull you into his chest with your back against him so he can kiss your neck. Newt who would put his arm around your waist just to touch you. Newt who would be crazy and rambles whenever he sees you wear his shirts to cuddle or sleep (and when you ask him why, he says "you look hot- i mean beautiful, wait i didn't mean it like your not hot, cause you are hot, i mean- your hot- wait that's not the point- but you look bloody amazing with my shirt"). Newt who can't sleep without you in his arms. Newt who would be very clingy and glued to you when both of you are alone (he's starved for your attention and affection). Newt who doesn't have a 'favourite cuddle position' but he loves it so much when you rest your head on his chest and just lay there. Newt who runs his fingers through your hair and leave a bunch of kisses all over your face whenever he gets the chance. Newt who sometimes wander his hands underneath your shirt (with consent of course) and he just trace circles all over your skin. Newt who sometimes would just lay in your arms tiredly because he’s exhaused from doing all work, helping around the glade, and having many meetings with Alby and the runners(he's a busy man). Newt who would smell a little more earthy when you guys are cuddling before shower. Newt who prefers to cuddle after shower because he thinks you'll like him more if he smells 'sweet like a candy' when you're both cuddling (he used your soap and shampoo because he said it made him "smell like sweets and vanilla" lol ). Newt who would sleep with you with hardly any space between each other. Newt who loves it when you bury your face in his neck and when you play with his hair. Newt who will always pull you back onto the bed and back into his arms if you try to leave or stop cuddling. ("Newt we have to get up! Alby will be mad at us-" "2 more minutes, please love? i'm sure Alby will be fine without me" "Newt, you said that 20 minutes ago."). Newt who doesn't mind being a big spoon or the little spoon when you're both cuddling. Newt who likes it when his arms are securely around your waist & his face in your hair when he's being the big spoon. Newt's arms will be the place you wake up every morning. Newt who would ask if he can play with your hair every time you're both cuddling (he wants to make sure you're giving him consent even tho you've reassured him that he doesn't need to ask that). Newt who would randomly compliment you when your almost asleep ("your so beautiful. like really bloody beautiful, love"). Newt who would sometimes talk in his sleeps because he gets nightmares when he's cuddling you ("please stay, please. don't go. stay with me." "i'm not going anywhere love"). Newt who would easily get sleepy when you run your hands through his hair. Newt who would fall asleep on top of you, then wakes up only to ask if you're okay, if he made you uncomfortable, and why didn’t you wake him up in his raspy sleepy voice. Newt who would have a staring contest with you and then make stupid faces so you laugh and he wins the contest (later on he tease you about it). Newt who would stay up with you and just have deep conversations as you both cuddle when you can't sleep ("why do people has to lose the person they love first, to realize they're bloody value and worth? doesn't make sense, what do you think?").

I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY MAKING THIS, IT TURNED OUT SO LONGGGG. I'M SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG FOR YOU

[majesty31]

𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 | 𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔, 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕. 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚. 𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 <𝟑

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒆. 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏. 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒉����𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓?

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓, 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔, 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒔, 𝒃𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒔. 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟐.𝟖𝑲

The world felt as if it were spinning- no coming to a complete stop. Time felt as if it wasn't a thing. You stood there like a complete idiot with a knife to your throat as you looked at the man you had come to love other the past three years. Millions of thoughts were coming to your head as everyone around you was yelling, you couldn't hear a word anyone was saying all you could hear were the thoughts running trough your head.

Did he even love you? If he did, wouldn't he give anything to be with you, give anything to have a normal life with you outside of this damn Glade. You knew the reasons for this, he was scared, so scared that everything else was blurred and blocked out. His feelings for you didn't feel as strong when the fear was much stronger. And at this moment you wanted to hate him, you wanted to yell and scream at him to just listen to everyone. Listen to you. But he wouldn't and everyone including yourself knew this.

Your eyes were filled with tears, your heart was going so fast you thought it would rip out of your chest completely and you felt as if the world was ending. You didn't think you'd ever feel so bad in your life, the feeling was far worse than fear, it was far worse than the many panic attacks you've had over the years, it was much worse than millions of stabs, you'd even prefer the stabs, you'd prefer the panic attacks. For anything was better than this.

The moment his eyes connected with yours you knew you would never see him again, you knew he was gone, he was already a dead man. And even the thought of leaving him behind made you want to throw up. The thought of begging him to come with you came across your mind many times but you knew better than to beg a dead man to leave his graveyard.

His hard eyes softened when he saw the pain in your eyes, he knew you wanted to go with them, he knew you wanted him to go with you, he knew it all. But he couldn't see past that damn fear.

"Let her go," His voice came out soft, softer than anything you've ever heard coming from his lips. Your eyes didn't leave his, not even when you felt the knife slowly drop from your throat. And before you could stop yourself you ran up to Gally, your shaking hands grabbing his neck and pulling his face down to meet yours.

His lips collided with yours and he didn't stop you, instead he dropped his knife and pulled you in closer, kissing you back with so much passion you thought that maybe this would change his mind, you thought for sure he loved you. But this kiss was a goodbye and you both knew this.

You gripped his hair tighter, going onto your toes to get more acses to him making his grip on your waist tight, so tight it hurt, but you didn't care. The hurt was nothing compared to what you felt in your heart. You wanted nothing more than to be in his arms for the rest of your life, and if you would've known that the last time you'd ever see him smile or laugh was that night you wouldn't have ever looked away.

You pulled away from him, your head leaning on his as he gazed into your eyes. Neither of you said anything, for you both already knew what the other wanted to say. You knew you'd never find another like Gally, and you never wanted to ever try to find someone to replace him. He was the one for you, and now. Now you had to leave him here to die. You were in a nightmare and you were just waiting until the morning came so that you could run back into his arms and everything would be fine again. But that was just a dream at this point. A dream you'd never be able to reach.

You felt cold the second you stepped away from his warm embrace. It took everything in you to keep on moving forward, you didn't even dare to look back. You felt a warm hard on your back right as you rejoined the group of teenagers leaving the Glade.

"It'll be okay," Newt whispered as he wiped your wet face.

The rest of it all came in a blur, you barely remember anything from running in the maze to running from Grievers. And soon you were in a room with dead bodies scattered all over, most due to gun shots. You remembered a video and then your world crashed and crumbed right in front of your eyes.

You remember screams and cries, all coming from you. You remember being pulled away from the only dead body you never wanted to see dead, you remember feeling numb. You remember his face, his eyes. They looked as cold and empty as you felt.

~~~

As the months went on you wished you had never left the Glade in the first place, for the world was nothing any of you expected, it was dark, and dead. Everywhere you looked you saw more and more death, you saw how survival was all anyone ever thought about anymore, your small group seemed to be the only ones who cared about friendship and loyalty.

You were surprised you lasted as long as you did without dying, or without getting the flare but in all honesty it was due to your group, you all saved each other over and over, never leaving anyone behind. So when Minho got captured each and everyone of you wanted to go back fro him, and thats exactly what you did.

You got shoved to the side by Newt as a truck passes by, yours eyes follow it when you see there were about five men sat on top all wearing masks. You start to feel a little uneasy when one of the men doesn't look away from you, his head moving to the side as the truck moves further along the road.

You snap your head back to Newt when he starts walking forward, your eyes roam around, seeing so many people in one spot was rare nowadays and you knew this wouldn't end well, WIKD would never allow it get like this and soon they would put a stop to it.

You saw how Thomas walked ahead of all of you, ignoring Jorge when he tried to stop him, you knew this wasn't the best way to get Minho back but none of you had a better plan so you kept on walking, ignoring the strange feeling in your chest that told you something bad was going to happen.

You looked behind you only to see that same man who you saw on the truck, his eyes were covered by the mask so you didn't know weather or not he was even looking at you, but either or it didn't feel right. Something about him made you feel uneasy, maybe it was his height, he towered over everyone it seemed like, and he had a really good build. He was intimating, and the mask made it worse.

Newt seemed to see this too, he pointed another one out to you, and this made the both of you move faster towards the rest of your group. And before you even realized you were all running again with bombs crashing into the ground all around you.

As you were running you saw someone behind you, you didn't think much of it for everyone was trying to get out before being killed but than you felt strong arms warp around your waist and before you could get out of their grasp they pulled you up.

You screamed and tried hitting the man but he was far too strong. Your wide and worried eyes searched for your friends but you didn't see them anywhere, making fear creep into your body. You turned your head to see it was the same masked man you saw on the truck, his eyes were looking stright ahead and before you knew it you were shoved into a van, hitting the floor with a grunt.

You quickly moved to the back wall when the man got in with you. You looked at them with fear laced in your eyes, there were about three men all in masks and just staring at you. Your breath was coming in and out fast, you looked around trying to see if there was a way out but you knew if you tried they would probably shot you dead.

You jumped when the door slid open but relaxed a little when they threw Thomas in. He was yelling at the man but his yells came to deaf ears when the man shut the door in his face, he turned around, his eyes finding your causing him to relax a little.

You both jerked when the Van started moving, and you tried your best to not freak out. What if they were with Wicked? All kinds of horrible thoughts came to mind but they all vanished when the Van stoped.

Thomas tried to fight off the men when they grabbed him and pulled him out. But due to his fighting they just threw him to the ground. You on the other hand, got out of the van by yourself, your eyes glaring daggers at the man who reached to get you out. But by the look you gave him, he backed away from you.

You ripped your gaze off his, the further you walked the more men you saw, all wearing masks, all carrying weapons, all looking like they could kill you without a single thought, or a single care. Thankfully you saw everyone you came here with, but they were all standing in front of the men, this could very well be your end. And Minho would rot in wicked for who knows how long.

Your heart picked up in pace when a man started talking, his voice was deep but it sounded way too familiar. He was the same man you've been seeing since you got in the city, there was something different about him, but you didn't know what exactly it was.

You could feel Thomas getting impatient the more the man spoke. You cursed to yourself when he finally had enough, pushing the man who was behind him and stepping forward. "What do you mean same side! Who the hell are you?"

Everyone went dead silent, and you could feel yourself holding your breath, waiting for the man to give some kind of reaction, a reaction none of you wanted. But he was quiet for far too long. You furrowed your brows when he turned his head, grabbing his mask with his free hand and pulling it over his head. He looked at the ground for maybe 5 second before turning his head to you all.

Your heart dropped to the ground, the air around you felt thick, and you could feel yourself having trouble breathing. Tears came to your eyes in an instant and every sound around you turned off, all you could hear was a faint buzzing and your pounding heart in your chest.

His eyes connected with yours so fast you thought you had gotten whiplash, you could feel everyones eyes on you, not just Gally's and it was making you feel suffocated. You didn't know what to do, or what to feel. You wanted to cry, yell and scream all at the same time, you wanted to run into his arms and hug him until you died but at the same time you wanted to hit him over and over again for the way he hurt you, and make you leave without him.

But before you could even take a step Thomas lunged forward, hitting Gally straight in the face, hard. So hard Gally fell to the ground with Thomas right on top of him. You wanted to move, run towards them and stop Thomas from hurting him but you couldn't move, no matter how hard you tried too.

Thankfully Newt did it for you, running towards the two boys, he fell beside Thomas, grabbing his hand, stopping him from going further. You could see their lips moving but you didn't know what they were saying, you felt as if you were in a dream, floating out of your body, it didn't feel real. Nothing felt real.

Thomas got off him fast, but you could see he was dripping with anger, anger you were slowly starting to feel. Gally got up and off the ground, moving his jaw with his hand before he eyes you again. His gaze softened, his voice dropped in pitch and he looked almost scared.

"Y/N?" Everyone turned to you again, but you didn't even see anyone, all you could see was red as you looked at the boy who was supposed to love you enough to leave with you. But he was a coward then he defiantly was one now.

And before you could stop yourself you moved forward, it all happened so fast as you grabbed the gun for the man behind you, he tried to stop you but you kicked him in the crouch casuing him to fall to the ground.

With the gun in your hands and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you tightened your grip on the firearm, your knuckles white with tension as moved towards Gally who didn't move from where he stood before. He held his head high, his eyes becoming glazed, but he clenched his jaw waiting for you to do what you wanted.

You could hear yelling from everyone behind you, but it was too late. Without a moment's hesitation, you swung the gun, hitting him hard across the temple with the back of the weapon. A sickening thud echoed through the air as the force of the blow sent him reeling backward. His eyes widened in shock, then dulled with pain as he crumpled to the floor.

It fell silent, except for your heavy breaths. You stood over him, chest heaving. The weight of what you had just done settled on your shoulders, but you pushed it away, the anger still seeping in your veins when he looked up at you, his nose bleeding.

You didn't know what was going on around you but whatever it was it died down when Gally raised his hand, telling them it was okay. His breathing came in and out harshly, his eyes connected with yours and the same softness still visible.

"You piece of shit," You breathed out, your voice dripping with hurt and rage. "You shouldn't have come back," Tears filled your vision as you remembered what he did, and how he made you feel. You had woken up screaming and crying because of him, and thinking you saw him die right in your arms. But he wasn't dead, and it was messing with your head, he was messing with your head.

"I'm so sorry Y/N," You let out a small cry at the sound of his voice, or the way your name rolled off his tongue. You didn't think you would ever hear him say your name again, and it caused your heart to physically hurt. Your breathing was getting faster and faster the more you let yourself feel the pain, you felt yourself give in slowly.

Tears slipped down your cheeks and you took a step away from him, dropping the gun on the ground in front of you. Gally didn't even waist a second, his eyes connecting with yours as he got up and off the ground, and making his way towards your form.

You gasped when he grabbed you and pulled you into his warm arms. And as he wrapped his arms around you, he could feel you trembling against him, your body shaking with the weight of all the emotions coursing through you. He held you close, his hug a shelter from the storm of doubt and fear.

Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, fingers clutching at the fabric of his uniform as if afraid he might slip away once more. He could feel the dampness of your tears soaking into his shirt.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the passing of time, nor the trials you had faced while you were apart. All that mattered in this moment was the warmth of your bodies pressed together, the rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

And as you held each other, lost in the sweet embrace of reunion, the world faded away around you, leaving only the echo of your love reverberating through the empty spaces between you. It was a moment frozen in time, a testament to the enduring power of your connection, and a promise of the future you would build together, one tender embrace at a time.

[that-tmr-girl]

Shut Up and Take It {Part 1}

When Newt gets deeper into becoming a crank, he takes it out on you during sex.

Dominant Newt, vaginal sex, blow job, fingering, hair pulling, degrading, overstimulation

It was heartbreaking. The way Newt snapped at Thomas. He didn't want to do that. He never wanted to hurt people he didn't have to, much less his best friend.

With my head on his chest, I kept trailing my hands up his arms as I laid with him. Pressing occasional kisses to the side of his neck, I heard him sigh as I did it again. Wearing a bittersweet smile, I pulled myself a little closer to him.

“I want you,”He breathed out, breaking our silence. Before I could take it in he got on top of me. Pushing his lips against mine, he shoved his tongue into my mouth. Kissing back, I grazed mine over his. With nothing but hunger, he shoved his tongue down my throat. As his spit collected in my mouth, he pulled out.

“I want to fuck you tonight. Not make love. Fuck you. Use you like my slut. Fill you up. Do whatever I want,”He said in a husky, deep voice. His eyes were dark, cold as he awaited my answer.

Pulling his shirt off, I threw it on the floor. Forcing mine over my head, he quickly pulled my pants down, my panties following. Doing the same, he carelessly aligned himself with my entrance. Covering my mouth, he shoved himself into me. Not bothering to let me adjust, he tangled his other hand in my hair, pulling it as hard as he could. Screaming at the pain, I threw my head back as tears sprung to my eyes.

“Shut up, you whore. You wanted it so you're going to take it,”He demanded in my ear. Thrusting into me faster, he grunted as he twitched inside of me. With my body shaking against my will, I felt the wetness drip down my thighs. Turning my head to the side, I groaned as he tightened his grip. Forcing my face into the pillow, he went rougher. Whimpering in pain and pleasure, I shut my eyes as my walls tightened around his dick. Twitching inside of me, he then pulled out and slammed himself into me so harshly I let out a shriek. Despite my sounds I found myself cumming with him.

Not stopping, he started thrusting into me again. Uncovering my mouth, he forced me to face him. Looking at his lustful face, I felt the knot in my core tighten. Making sure to keep my eyes on him, I arched my back as he fucked me like a stranger. Being shamefully into it, I threw my head back as he came inside of me.

Grabbing my waist, he forced me on top of him. Straddling him, I put my thighs on his side as I kept his dick inside of me. Sliding up and down, I got closer and closer. Letting out a sound at the pleasure, I increased my pace.

“If you don't be quiet I'll make you,”He whispered in my ear. Biting my lip as I bounced on top of him. With one more, I came.

Since he hadn't yet, he got me back under him. Dragging his nails down my back, I whimpered as he drew blood.

Pushing me off, he forced me off the bed. Shoving me on my knees, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, making me gasp at the harshness. Taking the opportunity, he slammed into my mouth. Hitting the back of my throat, he kept forcing my head towards him. Whimpering around him, tears streamed down my cheeks as I gagged on his dick.

“I warned you to be quiet,”He taunted. Shutting my eyes as he twitched in my mouth, I whimpered around him as he pulled my entire body forward. Putting his hands behind my neck, he kept slamming himself into me, making me choke again. Grunting, he shot his warm seed down my throat before forcing my face away.

Catching my breath, I groaned at the pain in my jaw.

“You're fine,”He said firmly, pulling me up. Throwing me on the bed, he crawled on top of me. Before I could say anything he wrapped my legs around him and slammed inside of me. Biting my lip to be silent, I shut my eyes as he arched my back. Holding me down by my shoulders, he started biting down on my neck, leaving dark bruises with his teeth. With the pressure returning, I clenched around him as I breathed heavier. Doing the same, he shoved himself in and out until we came.

He didn't stop though. He just kept going, causing me to let out a little scream.

“If you don't shut up and just take it like my tight, little, dirty whore so nobody can know you're being fucked, I’ll use that pretty throat until you can't even talk,”He threatened. Nodding my head, I didn't dare point out his sounds. I just let him use me the way he said it would.

It felt good. Damnit, it felt good. I know he was being rough. I knew I was going to wake up with bruises. I know he didn't give a damn about my pleasure, but there was still so much of it. I couldn't help but love this. I hate the circumstance, but the rough sex, dominant Newt, was something I was already more than into.

As I made another sound he pulled out. Shoving me back on my knees, he tugged on my hair. Already ready for him, I opened my mouth. Taking my hair, he slammed into my throat. Gagging on him, I felt my spit dribble down my chin at his roughness.

“You need to learn to listen for once in your damn life,”He growled, pulling harder. When he twitched inside of me, he held me still. His dick filled my cheeks as he held me still. Tearing up, I looked up to see him throwing his head back before bobbing my face in and out again. Choking on him, as he hit the back of my throat again, he shot his seed down my throat. Swallowing, I made sure to be ready for whatever he did to me next.

Grabbing me, he slammed my back on the bed again. Plunging a finger into me, he covered my mouth with his hand before I could scream. Quickly pumping, he rubbed fast circles on my clit. Squirming under him, I threw my head back at the pleasure. Going faster and faster, he watched as my body arched against my will. Tightening his grip over my mouth as I got louder, he kept his eyes on me as I clenched around him. Thrusting another finger into me, he stared at my face as he made me cum.

Crawling on top of me, he pushed into me again. Biting my lip so hard I drew blood, I stared into his dark and lustful eyes as he kept going. Penetrating me so hard I swear he rearranged my guts, I felt something I had never felt before.

“Newt. I-I can't move,”I whimpered as my body locked up.

“Good. Now shut up, and take it,”He demanded, thrusting into me. Staying silent, I did as he told me to. Holding me down, he sped up. Helplessly stuck beneath him, I felt him arch my back. Shutting my eyes, I started breathing heavier.

As my mind was numbed out from pain and pleasure he leaned his chest against mine. Without warning, he grazed his teeth on the bud of my nipple, almost but not quite biting down. Gasping at the feeling, I stared at the ceiling as he pinned my arms above my head with one hand. As if I was just a toy, he kept his quick desperate thrusts. Feeling myself tighten around him, I tried to figure out what was happening. Switching to my other nipple, he didn't let me as he made me cum. Filling me up, he grunted around my skin as he pulled out, his hot liquids spilling from between my thighs.

“Ne-Newt. I-I still can't-can’t move,”I stuttered as he pulled out. Ignoring me, he simply got dressed. Not even able to turn my head, I stared at the ceiling as the wetness kept dripping down my legs.

Hearing him walk over, before I could register it, he quickly pulled my panties up, making me wince. Tuning me out, he did the same to my night shorts before slipping a shirt over my head.

“Make sure to be up on time tomorrow. And make sure you can walk. I don't want anyone to be able to tell that I fucked you senseless,”He demanded, slowly pulling a thin blanket over my body since I was still sweating.

“Yes Newt,”I whimpered.

“Good,”He whispered, pushing my hair back and kissing my temple. With his palm still on my cheek, he smiled as he looked down at me. “Sweet dreams, Y/N. I love you,”He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to my lips and taking my breath away. For just a moment, he was my normal, gentle Newt again.

Then, he pulled away and left my room like it was nothing.

“I love you too, Newt. And I always will,”I promised.

[ruewrote]

𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒, 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠.

PAIRING: gally x fem!reader WARNINGS: injured reader, no use of y/n GENRE: angst, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: honest by the neighbourhood WORD COUNT: 1.7k

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the sound of your ragged breathing mixed with the pounding of your feet against the concrete echoed in your ears. minho was just ahead, his movements sharp as the two of you darted through the maze, weaving between the looming stone walls. 

the sky above was beginning to darken, the first sign that the walls would soon begin to shift, and with it, the grievers would come.

and they did.

you heard it first. a mechanical whir, a deep, guttural churning of metal and flesh, followed by the distinct clicking of sharpened legs skittering against the stone. it sent a chill through you, instinct roaring louder than thought.

you shoved minho forward just as the griever lunged from the shadows, its grotesque, writhing body twisting through the narrow passage with terrifying speed.

"go!" you shouted, voice raw with urgency.

minho barely had time to react, stumbling forward before catching himself. he turned back, eyes wide with frustration and fear, but you were already moving, already twisting out of the way.

the griever's jagged limb sliced through the air where you had just been, missing you by mere inches. but you weren't fast enough.

the force of it’s swing still caught your side, a brutal impact that sent you flying backward. your body slammed against a wall with a thud. an explosion of pain ripped through your torso.

the breath was stolen from your lungs, your vision momentarily darkening at the edges as you crumpled to the ground in a heap.

everything felt like it had slowed, your senses dulled by the sharp sting in your head where it had struck the wall. warmth trickled down your face, sticky and thick, the metallic tang of blood filling your mouth as you gasped for air.

the pain in your side throbbed in sync with your heartbeat, and when you tried to push yourself up, a sharp spike of agony shot through your ankle.

twisted? maybe worse.

"shuck!" minho's voice was a distant roar, his footsteps slamming against the ground as he skidded to a stop beside you. he didn’t hesitate. his hands grasping your arm, yanking you up with a force that nearly sent another wave of nausea rolling through you.

"get up," he snapped, voice tight with urgency. "we gotta move, now!"

"i–" your words barely leaving your lips before he was throwing your arm over his shoulder, all but hauling you forward.

your legs screamed in protest, your ankle a burning mess, but there was no time to complain. the griever let out a horrible, guttural screech, its body dragging itself toward you with terrifying speed. its bladed legs glinted under the fading light, rising to strike again.

minho didn't slow. "come on, come on, come on–"

each step was agony, but the sight of the glade’s walls ahead sent a fresh surge of adrenaline through your veins. safety was right there. you just had to make it.

minho was half dragging you now, your injured leg barely keeping up, but he didn’t let go. he didn’t let you fall. he kept moving, kept running, even as the shriek of the griever grew louder behind you, too close, too fast.

and then–.

the moment the two of you stumbled past the threshold, the stone doors groaned, their deep rumbling echoing through the maze. dust and debris rained down as the massive slabs of rock slammed shut with a final, deafening boom.

silence.

the maze was sealed. the horrors locked away behind stone and shadow, for now.

your knees buckled, body trembling with exhaustion, but minho kept you upright, his grip tight as he gasped for breath beside you. his chest heaved, sweat dripping down his face as he turned to look at you. his expression was tense, jaw clenched, but his eyes. his eyes burned with something fierce. relief. frustration.

"you okay?" he panted, though he didn’t need to ask.

you swallowed hard, still dazed, still struggling to process the fact that you’d made it. that you were alive.

you opened your mouth to answer, but your vision blurred at the edges, black spots dancing in your peripheral vision. the blood still dripped down your temple, the weight of exhaustion was unbearable.

"help! someone get jeff, now!"

the darkness swallowed you whole, you barely registered the weightlessness of your body, the sounds around you becoming distant echoes. but there was something keeping you upright, something solid, something warm.

hands.

strong, steady hands gripping your shoulder and your leg, the person shook you. not rough, but firm enough to fight against the pull of unconsciousness.

“don’t you dare.”

the voice cut through the haze, it filled with desperation. the grip on you tightened, grounding you, keeping you from slipping any further.

“stay with me, shuck face.”

your eyelids fluttered, the effort to keep them open unbearable, but that voice, it had a hold on you.

then everything went dark.

when you finally stirred, your body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and pain. the first thing you registered was the dull ache in your head, the lingering sting of your injuries. the second was the warmth of somebody beside you.

your eyes cracked open, slow and sluggish, blinking against the dim light. the familiar wooden beams of the med-jack hut swam into view, followed by the scratchy feeling of blankets pulled over you.

and then, him.

gally.

he was right there, sitting at your bedside, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together as if he was holding himself back. but the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was clenched, told you everything.

at the sound of your breath hitching, his head snapped up. the moment his eyes met yours, something flickered across his face. relief, frustration, something deeper.

“you’re real stubborn, ya know that?” he muttered, voice hoarse.

you tried to swallow, your throat dry. “nice to see you too.”

but gally wasn’t amused. he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “what the hell were you thinking?” his voice was rough, almost fearful.

your body still ached, but you managed a small, tired smile. “didn’t… have much of a choice.”

he scoffed. “yeah? ‘cause from where i was standing, it looked like you ran straight into danger like a damn slinthead.”

you sighed, shifting slightly. “we had to get back.”

“that’s the problem,” he snapped, leaning forward. “you didn’t think. you could’ve died.”

his voice cracked at the end, just slightly, but enough for you to notice. you blinked at him, your exhaustion making everything feel distant, yet gally, he was the only thing that felt real.

then, like he couldn’t stop himself, he reached forward, his rough, calloused hands gripping your arm, fingers pressing into your skin. his touch was soft.

“back there,” he muttered, voice low, like he hated admitting it. “when you started slipping, when you almost–” he stopped, inhaling sharply through his nose. 

you remembered. the way his hands held onto you, the desperation in his voice.

a faint smile tugged at your lips, weak but genuine. slowly, you lifted a trembling hand, brushing your fingertips against his cheek. he tensed, eyes flickering between yours, but he didn’t pull away.

“you were worried,” you murmured.

gally let out a dry, humourless chuckle. “yeah, no klunk.” his voice softened, though the frustration still lingered. “minho came running in with you half dead, bleeding all over the damn place. of course, i was worried.”

your fingers traced lightly along his cheekbone before dropping back onto the blanket, your body too weak to do much more. but the warmth of his skin lingered on your fingertips.

“i’m okay,” you whispered.

he shook his head, exhaling deeply. “yeah.” his hand that was still wrapped around your arm, sliding down to intertwine your fingers. “you better be.”

the exhaustion was still heavy, your body sinking into the thin makeshift mattress. but you weren’t fully out. the warmth of gally’s hand remained, a steady reassurance even as your eyelids fluttered closed. he didn’t move right away.

you could feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting, like he didn’t fully trust that you were okay just yet.

then, finally, his grip loosened, but only slightly. his thumb brushed over your wrist, lingering there for a second longer before he let go.

“you need to rest,” he muttered, voice gruff but softer than before. “don’t pull any more stupid stunts.”

you hummed something incoherent in response, too tired to argue, he sighed knowing you weren’t really listening.

there was a shift in the room, a murmur of voices just outside the hut, and then the faint creak of the door opening. you heard the shuffle of footsteps. clint’s voice, quiet but firm.

“how bad was it?” gally’s voice was lower now, quieter, but still edged with worry.

“she’ll be fine,” clint replied. “but she’s banged up bad. twisted ankle, bruised ribs, mild concussion. jeff and i patched her up the best we could, but she needs to take it easy.”

gally let out a breath, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into every movement. “make sure she does,” he muttered. “don’t let her push herself. she’s stubborn as shuck.”

clint chuckled. “yeah, no kidding.”

“i mean it.” there was an edge to gally’s voice now, something protective, something fierce. “be careful with her, alright?”

there was a pause, then clint’s voice, softer this time. “you really care about her, huh?”

silence.

you fought to keep your breathing steady, to keep yourself still, even as your heart thumped a little harder in your chest.

“…just make sure she’s okay,” gally says finally.

then, without another word, the door creaked again, and the heavy sound of his boots returned to your bedside.

you felt the mattress dip as he sat down beside you. there was a brief hesitation, then warmth. his warmth, as he shifted closer. 

you felt his arm slide beneath you carefully, his other draping across your waist as he eased you against him, mindful of your injuries. his grip was firm, but gentle.

for a long moment, he was still. then he muttered, “i hope you know you scared me half to death.”

you could have answered. you could have told him you knew, that you were sorry, that you were still here. but instead, you let yourself relax against him, let his steady breathing lull you into something close to peace. 

as his fingers absently traced soft patterns against your back, as his hold on you tightened just slightly. the mix of the feeling of his arms around you, and the distant hum of the glade outside slowly pulled you under. your eyelids fluttered, too heavy to keep open, 

and within moments, you drifted off to sleep.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2025.

[nomoreusername]

How Girl's Work

Pairing:Platonic Ivy Trio x female reader

Summary:When Thomas asks about your pads, you try to explain the female body.

It didn't seem important to hide them. I’m a girl so I’ll sometimes need pads. They’re all guys and have no idea what they are. I keep them in a box under one of the medical beds.

Nobody cares to ask. It's a clear box with some light, mysterious, square things inside, with my name written on plain ducktape.

I honestly should have known better. Thomas loves asking questions. From the day he arrived he was curious about absolutely everything.

“What's the box for?”He asked, pointing at it.

“I’ve always wondered that too,”Minho admitted from the other bed.

“Can't say it didn't catch my eye at first,”Newt shrugged.

“I knew letting you guys be here on days off would end up being a mistake,”I sighed.

“We're helpful sometimes,”Thomas defended.

“Yes, but you you're also you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”Minho asked quickly.

“Whenever you go, chaos follows.”

“Hey, that's usually those two. You leave me out of it,”Newt said firmly.

“The point is, you're all nosy.”

“Okay, but what's in the special box?”Thomas repeated, making sure we didn't get off track from the original topic. How kind.

“Pads. They're just for girls.”

“Well, that’s sexist,”Minho responded with a completely serious voice, raising his eyebrow as if I had offended his ancestors and future children.

“No. It's literally only made for girls to use. At least once a month I have to use a few a day.”

“For what?”Thomas interrogated, sitting on the bed. Taking a spot on each side of him, the other two waited for me to answer.

I guess I’m doing this then.

“You know how I sometimes tell you all to just leave me alone for a few days?”

“Yes,”Newt nodded, leaning forward as if he was about to take notes.

“That’s because at least once a month I get a period.”

Minho nodded in an ‘ah, yes’ way as if he knew exactly what that was. He did not, but I’m gonna pretend not to notice. It's just easier.

“Like at the end of a sentence?”Thomas asked.

“No. My uterus lining sheds, which means I’ll bleed from down there.”

“What’s the point of that?”Newt asked, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was pulling knowledge about it from the back of his mind.

“It has to do with my eggs.”

“You have eggs?”Thomas asked, his face devoid of color as he was doing his best to figure it out. Minho rested his chin on his hands like a great philosopher that knew everything there was to know about women.

“Yes, but they're pretty much microscopic. They're important, because it's how the human population would continue.”

“So humans come from eggs?”

“Technically, yes. You guys know about pregnancy?”

“You mean that hellish sounding thing where you have nine months of growing a human?”Newt checked.

“Yes. Periods make sure I have enough to get pregnant and have one of those.”

“Why would anyone want one of those?”

“Because some people want to be parents. That and accidents happen.”

“So I might have been an accident?”Thomas asked in true horror.

“I couldn't have been an accident. Who wouldn't want me around?”Minho shrugged.

“I wouldn't be surprised if all of us were accidents,”Newt added.

“Well, it's a possibility. If your mom didn't plan to have a baby, then yeah. You were an accident.”

“How does the accident happen?”

“We’ll save that for another day,”I trailed off.

“I understand this perfectly,”Minho insisted.

“I have more questions though,”Thomas said, putting his hand up.

“I need you to clarify something.”

“What would it mean-”

“This is where you shanks are always hiding,”Alby remarked, walking in.

“Only sometimes,”I defended.

“Well, I need to borrow your helpers.”

“They're all yours,”I definitely allowed, looking over at them. With heavy sighs, they stood up to follow him. A night in the pit for more girl knowledge was not worth it.

“Make sure not to bleed out the next time you get your period,”Thomas whispered as he passed by me.

“Thanks Thomas. I’ll keep that in mind,”I nodded.

“Good luck,”He said, giving me a thumbs up as he followed everyone else out the door.

Yeah. They really do not get it.

[heliads]

Newt x reader Bridgerton AU. Reader, the diamond of the season, is the Duchess of Hastings. She wants to marry someone who likes her as a person and isn’t after her money. Newt, son of a widowed viscountess, needs to marry to save his family’s reputation because his sister Sonya was seen alone with her fiancé Lord Aris before they were engaged. The anonymous writer Lady Whistledown is Ava, a widowed modiste who has her nose in everyone’s business, and Aris is the only one who knows.

'foxes and hounds' - newt

masterlist

The start of a new social season, although intended, supposedly, to be a cause for joy, feels rather more like a fierce uprising of dread, not celebration. Across the ton, young maidens find themselves new entrees– or, entrants– to the marriage mart. This game of rings and dances, men with ambition and women with more, will end in blissful happiness or deepest discontent. And all will be witnessed by every worthy family from one corner of the country to the next.

If all goes according to plan, an eligible would-be bride will find herself engaged to a man she loves, a man in possession of a handsome fortune and a sterling reputation. If luck slips past her, she’ll settle for someone decent, or someone without any income at all. If nothing goes in her favor, her first year in society will not be her last as a single woman. She will have to repeat her attempt the next year, this time without the glimmering aura of a new arrival, and hope that something within her has changed enough to attract a proposal. Otherwise, she will sink to the bottom of the pile of dance cards, ignored, abandoned, and grown up into a spinster. All that hard work gone to waste.

You’ve heard many young women discuss the marriage mart with nothing short of absolute terror in their voices. A good opening season can seal a girl’s fate forever. Attracting the eye of a worthy man is an impossible task for all but the best of the rosebuds, or so it seems. Most of us will settle for something halfway decent– a tidy sum per annum but nothing extravagant, a man with casual disinterest but nothing harsh. Something that can be shaped into something good, or at least ignored in favor of not being alone. Such is the romance of a married life.

You, however, hope to extract a little more out of the whole affair. As the Duchess of Hastings, you have no need for money. A marriage would be nice, the final touch on the portrait of a successful lady, but you do not require the financial stability of a husband. You have plenty of money and plenty of friends. You will inherit your estate. If you look for a husband, you will look only for love.

One would think, then, that entering your first season among the eligible women of the ton would be bereft of the panic permeating through most of your friends in search of husbands. However, when you line up with the rest of the young women to be presented to the Queen at the start of the season, you find that it couldn’t be less true. 

Your stomach is in knots, even as you sweep confidently through the corridor to wait outside the door. The white feather in your hair stands tall and proud. Your dress is crisp and finely stitched, the highest of fashion yet never gaudy. You attract stares wherever you go– from the other girls, envious and jealous and heartsick, from the men, longing and cutthroat and mercenary– but pretend they don’t phase you in the slightest. As duchess, you’ve had plenty of time to grow accustomed to onlookers. You won’t allow them to interfere with you on this all important day.

At last, your name is called, and you enter the throne room, your mother behind you. You keep your steps small but light, and seem to float towards your queen. When the time is right, you sink into an elegant curtsy. The moment seems to last forever, your knees bent, your hands shaking slightly, but when the queen calls you to stand, you look up to find her smiling benevolently at you.

“I believe I have found my diamond of the season,” she announces.

The room erupts in polite applause, and you do your best to smother a smile that’s entirely too giddy to be proper. As you retreat from the room, you gaze at the faces surrounding you, trying to remember which ones look genuinely happy for you and which seem to be identifying a prize pig for the slaughter. When the town gossips all gather later to share their thoughts on today’s proceedings, you’re certain that some of them will attempt to discredit you, saying that of course the queen would choose the duchess as her diamond, but you know just as well as all of them that you deserve the honor today. You were the best of everyone here, and it’s plain to see.

Among all of them, your gaze catches on a singular man, almost lost in the crowd from all the bodies packed together but no less entrancing. What strikes you the most is that his face seems kind, and his eyes sparkle with pride as they watch you go. Pride for you, for your accomplishments. As if he couldn’t be more delighted that you of all people were named the season’s diamond.

Then you’re gone from the room, and the kind man is no longer before you. Still, you puzzle over the encounter long after your carriage takes you home. You don’t believe you recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything to sway you towards any decision. An image of the young man swims in your mind– short, dirty blond hair, an upturned mouth, dark eyes, his face almost spritely. Clever, for sure.

You know better than to mess with clever men. Clever men are the type to try and twist your mind, convince you that they only love you then attempt to make off with your money. You know full well what marriage to you will offer any would-be suitor. This season, you may be looking for affection, but every man in the room will be after your fortune. The task of finding someone who truly cares for you will be a difficult one indeed.

So, clever men or not, you’ll have to keep your heart under close guard. When the first ball of the season comes to be, you don one of your finest dresses, and firmly admonish yourself to be careful. The game of hearts is not one that you lose. Either you win, or you destroy yourself.

You time your arrival carefully, so as to make the best entrance, and your efforts are rewarded. From the moment you’re announced, all eyes turn to you. Were it not for your extensive experience with being scrutinized in the grand magnifying lens that is the ton, you’d be nervous to have that many people looking at you. Even still, you can’t pretend you don’t feel a small flutter in your stomach.

It gets easier once you sweep further into the room, once people start smiling at you again, when the conversation picks up and you’re asked for your first dance of the evening, which you accept. Your partner is a charming man named Minho– dark hair, witty eyes, an excellent sense of humor. He’s athletic and a decent dancer, and by the time the music stops, you’re back to your usual self again. You can’t stop yourself from mentally sizing up your dance partner. He seems nice, and you wouldn’t be bored around him, at least. His family owns land. Although he’s not of your precise social standing, few are, and he’s close enough to you that it would be a respectable match.

Still– still, you think to yourself, as you move away from the center of the floor once more to consider your dance card, it’s not quite enough. You want love, you want a spark, and you didn’t quite get that with Minho. There are plenty of eligible suitors here, though, and many more balls to come. You’ll have other opportunities to select a match.

A few dances later, though, your feet are beginning to feel heavy and you’re still no closer to finding someone of interest than you were at the start. A good lady of extensive training such as yourself should have no problem dancing the entire night through with a pleasant smile on her face, but you’re still human, still tired, and your charming demeanor is beginning to pinch at the seams before long.

The music for the latest dance ends, and you curtsy to your partner, praying silently that no one else will be looking to fill your dance card for the next rotation. However, when you turn around, you’re greeted with the sight of many anxious faces. Something inside you wilts, perhaps your endurance.

Before the mobs can descend upon you, however, a figure appears in front of you. You sigh in relief to see one of your closest friends, Miss Teresa Agnes. “Teresa! And here I thought I wouldn’t have a single good friend all evening.”

Teresa laughs, her dark hair shining. “I would never abandon you. Certainly not when our diamond is sparkling so spectacularly tonight.”

You smile at her. “I’m not the only one who’s sparkling, Teresa. You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” Teresa says sincerely. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce someone to you. This is Viscount Newt, a good friend of mine. I met him through Thomas.”

You smile to yourself as Teresa turns to beckon someone towards you. Teresa has been harboring a not-so-secret admiration for Thomas since you were all small. This is her first season in the social circles, too, and if she doesn’t come out of it with a proposal from Thomas, you’ll think the sky has fallen. Even now, he’s watching her fondly from across the room, trying to pretend as if he isn’t pining madly while Minho teases him for it.

“Here he is at last,” Teresa says, and all of a sudden you can’t think about Thomas’ case of lovesickness for a second longer, because Teresa has brought her friend before you, and you know him. It’s the stranger from your presentation to the queen. The nice one, the clever one. The one that caught your eye, and then your imagination.

You curtsy automatically, and Newt bows. Once the two of you straighten up, you’re able to observe him more closely. You’d only gotten a fleeting glimpse earlier, but now you can drink in the sight of him, and you do. His eyes are dark, but catch the lights like stars. His mouth has a habit of twitching up at the sides, as if he’s always thinking of a joke but just barely managing to keep it at bay. When he looks at you, he really looks at you. You’ve been stared at all night by would-be suitors, but their gazes never went farther than surface level. Right now, it’s as if Newt can see through to your very soul, and most intimately of all, appreciates it.

Teresa gives you a confused look, and you realize you’ve been standing in silence for longer than is probably courteous. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say.

“I must return the sentiment,” Newt returns. “Teresa has talked about you many times. I’ve been quite eager to meet you.”

“I hope I’m worthy of what she’s told you,” you say.

Newt smiles again. “I believe you’re even better than that,” he tells you.

Teresa is looking at you with an odd smile. “I believe I’d better let the two of you get to know each other, then,” she says, and sweeps away before you can stop her.

Newt laughs. “She’s been wanting to set us up for ages. For a friendship, I mean,” he breaks in hastily. “Apparently, she thinks we have a similar sense of humor.”

“I look forward to finding that out myself,” you smile.

Newt’s eyes flash with mirth again, delighting you. Behind you, the music picks up again. Newt extends a hand towards you. “Would you mind if I shared a dance with you? Unless, of course, you’d rather sit for a while.”

“I’d love to dance,” you say quickly, and it’s true. All of a sudden, the pain in your feet is gone, as if it had never existed at all.

Newt smiles and takes your hand to lead you to the dance floor. The orchestra begins its melody, and you start your dance. You make a mental note to ask Teresa a little more about Newt later; he dances like an aristocrat, but he speaks so freely to you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced in a suitor before.

Newt arches a brow as he steps through the dance. “Sizing me up, are you? It may be improper of me to ask, but I do hope I’m meeting your requirements.”

Your cheeks heat up. “I’m simply appreciating your mastery of this dance. Nothing more.”

Newt laughs easily. “Of course not. It’s not as if everyone else here is doing the same thing right now. Every dance partner is a strategy meeting. In just a matter of minutes, you’ll walk away knowing if I am a worthy wager, and I will do the same. This ball is full of hounds and foxes, my lady. We all know our parts.”

You glance at him, feeling a curious grin tugging at your lips. “And which am I? Fox or hound?”

Newt returns your proud gaze. “I suppose we’ll find out at the end of the season, won’t we?”

You laugh, feeling oddly triumphant. Newt has this way about him that you find enchanting. It’s  almost breaching impropriety with how candid he is around you, but it only makes you trust him more. The dance ends far sooner than you’d like. Newt relinquishes you to the storm of suitors outside, hopefully with just as much reluctance as you.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Newt is truly the only one that stands out to you. You don’t have a chance to dance with him again, but you keep making eye contact as you dance with other partners. You can practically hear his clever words in your head, catching you in the act of evaluating the suitors in front of you. Fox or hound?

When the ball ends and you return to your carriage for the ride home, you’re blissful, practically dreamy. You’ve had enough time with Newt to dream about it until the next ball, where you’ll likely repeat the same cycle over and over again until the season ends.

However, your golden mood is shattered when your chaperone sits down across from you. Her face, by contrast, is twisted with disappointment. “Do you have any idea what sort of trouble you’re getting yourself into?” She asks once the carriage pulls away.

Still caught up in the heady dream of a merry boy who smiled the brightest when he danced with you, you don’t realize the trap descending around you until it’s too late. “What trouble?”

Your chaperone’s lips purse. “You’re meant to be dancing only with eligible gentlemen, my lady. I should hope that you’d be able to recognize the suitable candidates from the unseemly by now.”

The veil is pierced, and you’re beginning to be brought back to earth. “What are you talking about? I thought I made perfectly reasonable choices with my dance partners.”

Your chaperone shakes her head, a quick, sharp gesture. “All but one. Goodness, haven’t you heard about the trouble with that one family? I can’t believe Miss Agnes had the nerve to introduce him to you, but perhaps the fact that she’s so besotted with Lord Thomas is upsetting her mind.”

Your heart freezes in your chest. “You can’t mean to say that the Viscount is not a suitable bachelor? What else could he be?”

The other woman sighs. “You don’t know, do you? My lady, I would not interfere if I did not feel the need, but I can assure you, his motives with you are purely mercenary. That man is desperate for something to cover up the follies of his family, and you, my dear, are the perfect gilded shield.”

You feel cold. “What follies?”

“His sister, Miss Sonya, was seen alone with her fiance,” your chaperone murmurs at last. “Lord Aris. I would think you would have heard his name, although perhaps not connected it with Viscount Newt. Miss Sonya and Lord Aris were happily engaged, and by all accounts it was a fine union, but they were seen together without a chaperone past dark. Quite the scandal. The Viscount knows it and is eager to get the ton talking about anything but his sister’s misdeeds. Entering into a courtship with you would do just the trick.”

She’s right, and you know it, and you hate it. “He seemed so genuine,” you whisper, and instantly know how foolish it sounds.

Your chaperone, to her credit, is kind enough to take pity on you. “He did,” she tells you, “and you looked happy together. You would be less happy, however, when you found out the truth. I would rather you know now and stay away. Men like that are nothing but trouble.”

You nod solemnly, turning your head to watch the dark landscapes rumbling past. The sun is already beginning to rise, a hallmark of a late night out. It had been a beautiful night up until this, and now the entire evening is ruined in your mind.

“I feel for Miss Sonya,” you whisper. “She was already engaged. They were just talking.”

“She knows the rules of society, and so do you,” your chaperone reminds you. “We all have our roles to play.”

And the consequence of setting a foot outside your role is instant public mortification. Yes. What a forgiving world. You immediately plant your exhausted body in your bed when you return, hardly sparing the time to wash and dress, but the only things to bloom from your rest are troubled dreams of the boy that could have been yours. Now that you know the truth– that Newt was only trying to use you for a better reputation– every interaction with him is tainted.

You’d meant what you said in the carriage, though. You did think Newt was genuine. Hadn’t he laughed more than usual when he was with you? Hadn’t he regarded you with that fierce pride of his, as if he’d finally found a mind that was an equal to his? Hadn’t he watched you with something akin to jealousy when you danced with the other men that weren’t him?

Hadn’t you wished he would only dance with you? And don’t you wish that you could truly do what you promised yourself and marry only for love, never mind the rest? It is a simple dream to think that love is easy. Marriage is not simple, not in the ton, not in your lifetime. Every one of your days will be shaped by the whims of society, even when they take Newt away from you.

When it comes time for the next ball, you do your best to strengthen your spirits before you go. You intentionally avoid him, making sure to always have your dance card full whenever the music ends. It’s easy enough to find a crowd large enough to hide you from him, and yet you still catch glimpses of Newt from across the hall, several partners down, in a carriage many behind yours. You successfully go two balls, then three, without seeing him, but it aches like a knife in your ribs when you think about what could have been.

As it turns out, you’re not the only one wishing you were with him. At the fifth ball of the season, your attempts to distance yourself from the viscount are foiled at last. Newt tracks you down, signing his name on your dance card before you can stop him before leading you out to the dance floor.

“That’s a rather abrupt way of asking a lady to dance, don’t you think?” You ask as you curtsy.

Newt bows. “I felt it was the only way of guaranteeing that you would dance with me.”

“A lady never declines a gentleman in need of a dance,” you remind him.

The music picks up, and the two of you begin your paces. “A lady also never avoids a gentleman as thoroughly as you have at the last few balls,” Newt says. “Were it not for the fact that I know you to be as perfectly agreeable a duchess as there could ever be, I would say that it was personal.”

You can’t look him in the eyes, even with his hands on you, guiding you through the steps. “It’s not meant to work out, my lord. Us, I mean. We cannot forget the rules.”

When Newt speaks again, his voice sounds hurt. “Why not? Forgive me, my lady, but I remember what it was like that first night. You were happy. We were happy, and happy together. What changed?”

At last, you risk a glance towards him, and instantly regret it. Newt’s eyes are filled with genuine hurt. Are you wrong? Did he actually want you as more than a cover-up? “I heard about your sister,” you say as delicately as you can.

Still, Newt flinches as if you’ve hit him. “You don’t know the full story,” Newt says raggedly.

“Then tell me,” you beg him. “I would choose you if I could, but everyone seems to think that you are only interested in me to advance your station. Give me a reason to believe in you, not them.”

“I can’t say it here,” Newt whispers. 

“I can’t go somewhere with you alone,” you tell him quietly. “Especially not after what happened to your sister. You must tell me now, or we will never have another chance.”

“Alright,” he says at last. “But you mustn’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

Once you agree, Newt begins to speak in a hushed whisper hardly audible to you, let alone the other couples around you. “Sonya is deeply in love with Lord Aris, and he is in love with her. So much so to the point that he has been battling a deep rage ever since that awful gossip rag, Lady Whistledown, slightly disparaged her last season. He took it upon himself to find out Lady Whistledown’s identity, and somehow, he did. The only problem is, Lady Whistledown is not someone Sonya would consider a friend. He wanted to warn her about the dangers of being anything less than perfect around that insidious writer, and he didn’t want to waste a moment. He called on her to meet with him as soon as possible. He didn’t think they would be seen, but they were, and of course Lady Whistledown ran with it to discredit them in case they would reveal her.”

You suck in a harsh breath. “It was never anything wrong, then. He merely wanted to protect her.”

Newt nods. “Lord Aris is a good man. He never would have done something like this if he realized how it would backfire. He regrets it daily, even though all he wanted to do was keep my sister safe. The ton knows their characters, too. Neither of them would do anything unseemly. The rumors diminish by the day, and soon, it will all be over. They will be happily married.”

He sighs and looks at you again. “I tell you this to explain myself, and to clear my name. I have nothing to hide from the situation with my sister and her future husband. In fact, it is only because they directly asked me not to spread this information that I haven’t gone public with the identity of Lady Whistledown herself to spare their reputations. I have nothing to fear, my lady. Certainly nothing that would make me risk the happiness of my marriage on a good rumor. I would court you because I have never met anyone like you before, nor do I think I ever will. You are utterly entrancing in every possible way. If you do not wish to be with me in that fashion, I would understand.”

You shake your head quickly. “I do want that, my lord. I want you.”

A careful smile slips across Newt’s face. “Do you mean that?”

“I do,” you tell him. “I have wanted you since the moment I saw you at my presentation. I would have found you no matter what lies they spread.”

Newt grins. “I believe I have decided something important, my lady. About your inner nature.”

You arch a brow as he spins you. “And what is that?”

“You’re a hound,” he informs you matter-of-factly. “Sharp and bright. Brave, too. But, then again, I am a hound as well. We make quite the pair, I think.”

“I think so too,” you tell him. In the days to come, rumors will abound about the viscount and the duchess. At first, there will be surprise across the ton, but then, even the most tenacious of gossips will realize that this makes perfect sense. The most clever of men and the most ambitious of women, bound together in holy matrimony. Even the best of poets couldn’t concoct a story that beautiful.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

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

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[lowkeyrobin]

hello!!

would you be willing to do a TMR minho fic?

basically just them at the little glade treehouse (i live for that treehouse lol) and maybe they stole some food from frypan and are just chatting and having a laugh together whilst cuddling or something bc they dont get to spend alot of time together as he is always in the maze??

(been loving your writing recently btw, literally one of the v few writers who write for MCYTS and respect their boundaries so tysm!!)

hope ur having a good day:)

oh hell yeah brother LMAO ; also thank you and you're welcome!! im all for respecting boundaries because ik how that feels when they're broken + I'm not a weirdo lol, and thank you for appreciating my work, it means sm to me 🫶🫶🫶 ; have a good day/night :) ; post writing me, sorry this is so short :( ; also I know I said I was in trouble but NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT??

MINHO ; tree house cuddles

summary ; sneaking food into the tree house and having late night convos with minho

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader is a track-hoe, Thomas has been in the maze for months and exists, but no Teresa/escaping the maze

word count ; 459

masterlist

You loved your beautiful boyfriend Minho. He was an angel sent from above, truly. Or... maybe below? The box and what existed out of the Glade was confusing, sadly. God, you wished you could remember anything outside of here.

Sadly, you hadn't seen him very much recently.

He'd been busy with his duties in the maze and the Map Room, and you've been busy working in the gardens damn near all day every day. Your rations were running low, the crops were growing slower than ever, and you couldn't figure out why. It's not like there were deer or raccoons feasting on them either. It was just you Gladers here, nothing else. You'd been stressing out over it and needed some time away from it for a while.

Thankfully, the beloved tree house existed, and rarely anyone used it.

You'd stolen a basket of fruit from Fry's kitchen, awaiting the arrival of Minho. Hopefully, Newt stuck to his word, or remembered to, to send Minho to the tree house to spend some time with you.

Thankfully, the beautiful Korean boy showed up, dressed casual and out of the heavy gear he had to wear in the maze. He greeted you with a tired yet warm smile, sitting down with you on the wooden floor.

"Hey, how's your day?" He asks, sitting next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

You hand him a little basket of strawberries. "Fine, I guess." You shrug, "Need a minute away from the gardens"

He nods, "I need a minute away from the shuckin' maze"

You dangle your feet off the side of the platform, soaking up each other's presence.

He pulls you into his lap, between his legs. He rests his chin on your shoulder while his arms rest around your waist. You feel your stomach swarm with butterflies, resting your hands over his.

"I love you" He whispers, placing a kiss on your temple.

"Love you too, dork," you reply with a smile, leaning your head back to rest yourself against him.

"What a romantic" He giggles, pulling you a little closer.

The night continues on in peace, smiles, giggles and kisses shared, hands intertwined. You share your body heat, cuddled up and comfy.

"No, no, no, he said something like he was gonna beat him back into the box! How does that even work? Gally acts like Thomas is some universal threat or something" You laugh as you speak.

"I have no idea, darling." He smiles and chuckles, listening to you ramble on and on about stories he'd missed during the day.

You look up at him and place a kiss on his jawline, a stupid smile on his face.

"Love you"

"Love you too"

"...Thanks for being mine"

"Okay, shut up, shank"

[cauqhtz]

Gally x fem oc (smut)

Summary: Gally and Tiny fuck in the glade somewhere in the open, with a huge risk of being caught. Also, it's dark out.

Warning: fem OC has a name, smut, risk of being caught, cussing, SMUT.

I wrote this because I couldn't get it out of my head, and I want to get back into writing. So I thought I'd start off with small one-shots to get some practice in. Don't forget to comment and leave your thoughts! I'd love to hear them all! I appreciate blunt honesty!

“We aren't- fuck supposed to be doing this, Tiny,” Gally pants, the girl in question shoving a hand over his mouth as a few gladers stumble by. “Someone could catch us.”

“Oh come on Handsome, we aren't breaking any rules,” Tiny breathes shakily, completely bottomed out while trying to recover from her last orgasm. “Besides, you should’ve thought about that 4 orgasms ago.”

Gally relaxes as the pleasure spreads throughout his body, “Did you spread this pallet all by yourself? How romantic.”

“Well, I was aiming for comfort, you know I’d do anything for you. Besides,” Tiny hums, cradling his head, her thumbs rubbing the apple of his cheeks as her boobs stick to his collarbone. “I think this might be my favorite position, I’ve got the best view.”

Tiny resumes the thrusts of her hips, slow, deep, and hard. Both legs burning from the low squat she was in. A sight that makes the boy feel as though he is losing his mind.

Gally couldn't remember how he got here. He swore to himself that the first time would be the last, but he’s a teenage boy with crazy hormones he didn't even know he had until Tiny. He should stop this. He should’ve stopped this a while ago. 

“Speed up, Tiny,” Gally breathes out. Dammit, that was the opposite of stopping this, but Gally couldn’t be bothered with any of that now. He couldn’t deny himself of the girl any longer.

“‘M sorry?” Tiny pants, lurching forward, a hand slamming into the ground as she stopped herself from cumming right then and there. Her knees hitting the ground as her legs started to tremor uncontrollably.

Gally’s hands slide up Tiny’s thighs, spreading her ass as he pecks her cheek, “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Tiny’s heart skips a beat, proceeding to do exactly what he told her to, “Yes sir.”

Gally's head falls back onto the pallet, his eyebrows furrowed deeply in concentration, losing himself to the sticky sounds they were making. “Shit, I think you’re trying to take my soul.”

“I want a lot more than that.” Tiny grins watching Gally’s jaw drop open, cumming dryly. “What was that?”

“I don’t have anything left to-” Tiny cuts Gally off with a hand around his throat and a grip on his balls.

“I know you, Gally. I know what you are. You’re a slut. A slut that jumps to please others, and I told you I wanted more than your soul, Handsome. So you’ll give me what I want, right? I’ll be more than pleased,” Tiny hums, shushing the boy as he starts to groan loudly, thick and hot ropes of his semen filling the girl up perfectly as she continues to massage his balls. Milking him of everything he had to give her.

“Relax, Gally. You’ll pass out if you keep panting like that,” Tiny says, lying down on his chest.

“See, that wasn't so hard, was it? Good boy.” Tiny praises, kissing his forehead.

“You’re a terrible person,” Gally chuckles, trying to catch his breath.

[yoursecretadmires]

I just rewatching movies/series I like. I just wondered, where y/n? 😔

[justanoasisimagines]

Honey,

Hey lovelies, back with another love letter, Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

I am not good with my feelings. It's either all or nothing. I never want anyone to think I'm weak. Showing weakness would give people the opportunity to take advantage. I need to protect those around me. I thought I was okay with people fearing me. Until I met you.

I don't know why, how, what or when, but something changed. You're different from everyone else. You challenge me when you think I'm wrong. Yet you listen to my reasoning. You don't step back when I'm being confrontational. You don't enrage me like the others do. I feel calmer in your presence. You don't antagonize me.

I'd never been one for people. They're too frustrating. I like you. I like waking up knowing I get to see you again. I like the way you smell and the twinkle in your eyes when you smile. I've never liked being around someone as much as I do you. You make me feel things I've never felt before.

I'm going to be honest. I don't know what it means. I've never been in a relationship before. I don't know exactly what that entails but perhaps you'd like to figure it out with me? If you don't you can ignore this letter and pretend this never existed. Gally.

[illloveyoutillidie]

"Just one more, please?"

Dom!Newt x Sub!Reader

summary : Newt is determined to pleasure you after a whole month but you're already begging for him to stop

warnings: this is pure smut, so please don't interact if you're a minor. you have been warned!!!

"newt, please, i can't do it anymore." you twitch as he overstimulated your core.

"you've done more, baby." newt pecked your tear-stained cheeks. "just one more, please?" he speed up his pace, trying to finish faster.

"i can't." you whine, sobbing out and curling your arms around his shoulders. "newtie, please." suddenly he speed up his pace even more faster and messily, making you turn into a moaning mess under him as you keep saying his name, begging for him to slow down.

suddenly he stopped his pace and pulled out, leaving just his tip inside of you.

"newt-"

"love, your making this so hard for me if you keep on calling my name so sweet like that" then he pushed his entire length inside you, his hips continue its fast rocking motion from before; determined to draw one last orgasm out of you.

"take a deep breathe, alright, angel? i promise you'll feel so much better later, hm?" he reasures you

"but-"

"just one more then we'll go do what ever you want, love" he added.