#thomas x reader tmr

[semicolonsspace]

Warnings: p n v, Dacyphillia, multiple orgasms, overestimation, teasing, praising, Threesome, switch!Newt(?), Dom!Thomas, sub!reader, creampie, anal, choking, talk of being caught, Degradation.

|18+| Minors DNI

Imagine it's late at night, the graders should be asleep. But you, Newt, and Thomas are out in the trees away from the others.

You're cuddling into Newt, your hands fisted into his shirt while he slowly fucks into you. Thomas is next to Newt talking about what he did today in the maze. Newt angles his hip back slightly causing you to squeal at the new angle.

"Don't be rude, love; Tommy is telling us how his day went," You whimper and nod, biting his shoulder and staring at Thomas. Thomas continues talking, going into full description to tease you and to make the story longer.

You reach for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards you. He choked on his words and then kissed your tear-covered face.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"S'too much."

Thomas smiles at you, pulling your hair back from your wet face. "Y'can take it, baby," Thomas affirms. You whimper and your eyes roll back from the overwhelming pleasure.

Newt's thrust was slow, his hands gripping your hips to meet him halfway. Thomas kisses you, his warm soft lips pressing against your quivering ones. Thomas' hand rubs your back, comforting you to take what Newt was giving you. You had already had multiple orgasms during the long talk of how the boy's days went. Your body was spent, running on adrenaline from the amount of pleasure it was receiving.

"You're perfect," Thomas growls kissing your wet nose. Your eyes flutter, the pressure already forming.

"She's gripping me, Tommy," Newt whines. Your mouth falls open, the grip on Newt's shirt becoming tighter.

Newt's thrust becomes quicker and sloppy, becoming unpredictable. Thomas' hands hold Newt's guiding his movement and her body to fuck onto his cock harder. Your head falls back, your arms pushing you back making your naked torso arch. Thomas' face was above yours now, he stared into your half-closed eyes, his eyes filled with a predatory gaze. Your pussy clenches around Newt, his cock twitching inside you. He cums quickly, his body becoming stiff. His cum oozes out of you, a white sticky circle around your hole.

In a swift movement, you were pulled off of Newt, now on top of Thomas. His thrusts were brutal, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Tommy, please," you beg.

Thomas doesn't give you mercy and continues thrusting hard into you. His tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, the pressure from it making your mind numb.

"Come on, honey. I've been running all day, help me out will ya?" he slurs out.

Newt comes from behind you and guides your head to look up at him. His hand wraps around your throat and gently squeezes the sides. He leans down kissing your lips before littering kisses on your face.

"Love, you gotta help him, he's tired."

You nod quickly, too deep in a mindset to argue. Your hips start bouncing on Thomas, making his cock hitting your cervix like Newt's was earlier. Thomas' cock was slightly shorter, making up for its girth and stretching you out. Newt fingers the entrance of your ass, your eyes going wide.

"You think you can take both of us?" Newt whispers softly.

You nod eagerly, "Please, just want you both."

Thomas chuckles at your neediness; His arms wrap around your torso and stop thrusting into you. Newt's tip goes in, the beginning being uncomfortable. He waits for you to get used to the feeling. Thomas becomes impatient and starts thrusting into you, while Newt goes slowly so you can become used to it.

"Just fuck her," Thomas growls to Newt. He obeys and starts fucking your behind. He grips your ass, spreading it and massaging the plush flesh.

You feel them both, their dicks only being separated by a thin wall. They feel each other as well, the hardness making them turned on when more. You clench around them and they both groan if approval.

"Again," Newt commands. You obey and clench around them longer this time, trying your best to keep doing so.

Thomas reaches down with a hand and starts toying with your clit. Newt's hold on your throat tightens slightly at the sight of the movement. You cum at that, beginning to scream as Newt's hand that was on your ass and covers your mouth.

"Don't wanna get caught, do ya love?" You shake your head, your eyes wide and your eyes furrowed with pleasure from the overstimulation. The pressure returns and Thomas groans.

"You like that, you filthy slut? You wanna get caught?" his thrust gets harder, Newt's thrust being gentle and makes your mind hazy from being gentle and hard at the same time. "You want Alby or Gally to see you like this? Being used like a little whore?" His fingers on your clit, his filthy words, and the pleasure from both men push you over again. You've lost count of how many had, not even caring to count for being consumed by the filthy pleasure.

They both cum simultaneously. Their thrust sloppy and cum dripping from your abused holes. Their breaths are heavy, and Thomas fucks himself through his pleasure while Newt gets pleasure from the feeling of Thomas rubbing against his cock through the thin wall.

[m30wk1ttycat]

the blind leading the blind-er

relationships: simp!thomas x oblivious!reader (romantic), gally x reader (platonic, besties), minho x thomas x newt (platonic, besties) minho x gally if you squint (romantic)

warning! contains: cussing, maybe softie!gally, thomas loves his strawberry lip balm, horrible sexual jokes (about three or four, maybe five. i can't be bothered to do the math, sorry, y'all), thomas sleeps in just his boxers because i said do, KISSING (i poured my fucking heart out during the kissing scene. you're welcome)!!

summary: when a tiny little crush starts to turn into something so much more, thomas is too awkward to say it out loud, so he keeps giving not-so-subtle hints. of course, minho, his best friend keeps reassuring him that you picked up on his hints. (you didn't.)

prompt: "relationships don't really work like that, minho." "and names shouldn't work the way they do, 'cause why are you named after isaac newton? i thought he was supposed to be smart or something."

it was genuinely agonizing, in thomas' best friends' opinions. the poor kid had tried everything. truly everything. and yet, you still weren't catching up on it, as much as he tried. it was almost depressing to watch.

but at least he had them, his best friends, minho and newt, by his side?

right after leaving the maze, thomas spotted you talking to gally, not too far away from him and minho, who was standing next to him, drinking from his canteen. minho offered it to him and thomas, still panting, gladly accepted it.

"y/n is so checking you out right now," minho whispered into thomas' ear, grinning as he watched thomas almost spit out the water.

meanwhile, you were talking to the builder, about ten feet away from the runners. sure, you ocassionally found yourself glancing at thomas, but you weren't exactly checking him out. he tried to swallow the disappointment he felt at the realization, but hey, you were still looking at him. as long as it was him who you were looking at, he'd take it.

"totally checking you out. see?" minho nodded in your direction. yeah, not checking him out, sadly.

thomas rolled his eyes and handed the canteen back to him. that was his only response.

minho threw an arm around him, the canteen in his other. "come on, we got work to do," he reminded. with that, the two headed to the map room, where only the runners were allowed.

while they did their job, you helped gally carry some wood for a new project he was working on. something about replacing the unsteady chairs in the map room, you recalled him saying. the high-pitched scream coming from the building as you passed by it pretty much confirmed it.

gally groaned beside you, continuing to walk. he, along with you, tried to ignore the audible string of curses that likely came from minho who had previously been sitting on the flimsy chair.

you were about to open your mouth to say something, but gally beat you to it, a guilty expression on his face, "he's okay, i promise."

"didn't sound like it."

"he will be okay," he corrected himself.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

you watched as gally searched for the sketches he drew for the new chairs - hopefully ones that don't end up collapsing under minho, bruising his poor butt.

"need help?" you offered.

"no, i know where they are," he answered, sounding frustrated. you guessed that it was because he, indeed, didn't know where they were.

he let out a defeated groan. "i don't know where they are," he announced, confirming your suspicions.

"fuck it, i'll just draw new ones.."

a beat. "and the papers are in the map room. great."

"i'll come with you if you want," you suggested, knowing that he and thomas didn't really get along. not to mention that minho would probably be mad at gally for the whole chair situation.

"fine," he agreed. once he got up from his previous kneeling position, he walked out the door of his hut, you right behind him.

already fearing minho, he reached out, gently knocking. very unlike the usual gally who'd probably kick down the door rather than actually attempt to knock.

shuffling was heard from inside the building, and much to gally's dismay, it was minho who opened the door.

"we need papers," the builder said, looking down at the runner. (minho is our short king 'cause i said so.)

"papers to draw sketches for the new chairs i was about to make to replace the old ones," gally explained. that seemed to shut minho up before he could even open his mouth to protest, thankfully. he turned around, walked over the remains of the currently very-not-intact chair, and searched for the papers that gally requested.

thomas, who was leaning on the table, smiled at you before returning to his work. though, with you there, standing in the doorway, looking like a painting as usual, he could barely focus.

minho rolled his eyes, and handed gally the papers that they - the runners - usually used for the maps of the maze. "this doesn't mean i forgive you, by the way."

"great," gally replied sarcastically and turned to leave. you jogged to catch up with him, arms crossed over your chest.

as you left, only then was he - thomas - able to focus. kind of.

minho closed the door behind you, rolling his eyes. "seriously?"

"what?" he asked, puzzled.

"that," minho said, as if that would clarify anything. either minho was bad at explaining, or thomas was dense as fuck. could've been both, though.

"meaning?"

"you were staring," he pointed out, "the whole fucking time."

"no, i wasn't," he denied.

"yes, you were."

"i wasn't," he insisted.

"you were, thomas."

"no."

"yes."

"no."

"yes."

"no."

"no."

"yes."

minho burst out laughing. "see? you said it yourself, shank."

"not fair.. you tripped me up," thomas whined.

"but you did say it, thomas," minho shrugged.

"because you tripped me up!"

"cry about it."

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

in the gardens, during lunch, you'd help gally with the designs for the chairs and such. apparently, multi-tasking wasn't exactly your forte, as you forgot about the food sitting next to you and instead focused on how the chair sketches were looking.

surprisingly, gally even let you help him with the chair-making once you those were done. as you were about to hand him the wood not-so-professionally thrown over your shoulder (don't do that, dumbasses!!!), your hand slipped and you ended up injuring your arm, which he tended to. he was used to having to patch up most of his builders if they got hurt - if it was a particularly bad injury, like a fractured bone, he let the med-jacks take care of it. thankfully, you just scraped your arm, which only resulted in gally scolding you like an overprotective brother. not that bad, no?

the whole chair-making thing took a few days; gathering the materials, cutting the wood, assembling, securing everything in place, sanding and prepping the almost-finished chairs, painting. how minho and thomas had the patience to wait for the new chairs, you had no idea. but, at least, these were more sturdy than the previous ones that were currently broken, in the corner of the map room, pretty much abandoned by a still angry minho.

"now we just gotta get these to minho and thomas," gally stated, looking at your creation. the chairs turned out way better than you both expected them to, honestly.

"wait, what?" you blinked once, twice, and thrice, finally processing his words. "i'm not carrying eight fucking chairs across the entire glade!"

"who said you're carrying all eight of them, genius?"

"wha-"

"come on," he encouraged with a small grin, one of the chairs already in his grasp. so, you did the same, rolling your eyes.

"dude, wait up!" you called.

"keep up, loser," he called back.

in the end, gally ended up carrying five of them, leaving you to carry the three other chairs that were left. how generous.

once you brought all eight chairs into the map room, minho eyed your handiwork. "fancy," he commented.

thomas, who had been leaning on the wall the entire time, rolled his eyes at minho. surely, he couldn't still be mad, right?

thomas turned to you and gally. "he meant to say 'thanks'."

you nodded with a small grin hidden behind your hand. with that action, thomas' brain partially malfunctioned. it was almost pathetic to watch, but at least it was entertaining.

"mhm, no problem," gally said, finally snapping thomas out of whatever thoughts he was having.

as you and gally turned to leave, thomas was met with minho's expression of 'dude, what the fuck was that?'.

"before you say anything, don't."

minho, under his breath, muttered: "i'm not sayin' anything."

moment of silence. "yet-"

"minho! shut up!"

"'shut up'? what do you mean? i'm as silent as a corpse is," he protested.

thomas internally facepalmed.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

you were dragged to dinner by gally, complaining about how harsh his grasp was on your still injured hand all the while, which he apologized for.

but did he ease his grip?

yes. eventually. he'd be a bad friend if he didn't.

like usual, you were sitting with him and a few of your friends, consisting of the builders that didn't piss him off.

"what's up with you and minho?" you questioned, referring to how the runner was looking at gally. surprisingly, he didn't seem angry.

gally stiffened at that. he gave minho a glance, making the boy turn back to his friends.

"how am i supposed to know that?"

you shrugged. "dunno."

you heard your best friend huff out a breath before resuming what he was doing before. eating his food.

seemingly, frypan was in a good mood, because for dinner, you got to enjoy the taste of the creamy pasta he cooked up - pasta, not stew like yesterday, the day before yesterday, and the day before that. pasta! who the hell doesn't love pasta? (i despise you if you don't like pasta.)

and god, it was so good. most of frypan's food was, so this was expected.

if you weren't counting that one time where he accidentally used spoiled poultry to prepare chicken fried rice that most gladers would've adored had he not used - albeit unintentionally - the leftover meat in the fridge, that is. for every glader - except for thomas and teresa who hadn't been in the glade at the time - that was the most traumatizing thing to experience eating, and the aftermath of it was probably even more traumatizing. you felt bad for the sloppers who had to clean the toilets.

gally cleared his throat, turning your attention back to him. "so," he began, "you and thomas.. what's up with you two?"

you knew that gally didn't like thomas. he made it obvious. you, on the other hand, could never hate thomas. how gally could hate someone like thomas baffled you. sure, he keeps asking an unnecessary amount of questions, is a literal idiot, keeps tripping over the same root in the deadheads over and over and over again whenever you two decide to hang out there. but he's thomas. how could you ever hate him?

you tilted your head to the side, confusion clear in your eyes and overall facial expression. "what?"

"what's up with you and thomas?" he asked again. okay, copycat. very creative question to ask. "i mean, like, why does he always look like he's a second away from turning into a tomato whenever you look his way? it's ridiculous."

"he looks cute like that, what do you mean?" you argued.

"so, you like him?" he guessed, the corner of his lips twitching as if he was holding back a grin or holding back laughter.

"do you like him?"

at the question, he glared at you. "ew, no. he's not my type. and he's an idiot and i hate him. and you're changing the topic," he pointed out. "do you like him?"

"wait, what's your type?" you inquired.

he stammered in response, and minho, who was eyeing the builder for the tenth time that day, suddenly perked up. newt kicked him under the table, and before the second-in-command could tell him to stop staring, minho muttered, "shut up, i wanna hear this."

much to minho's dismay, gally's answer didn't even answer your question. "y/n, i am begging you, shut up. we're not discussing this."

minho looked disappointed to hear that, which didn't go unnoticed by.. well, anyone who was listening in on your conversation.

"why not?"

again, he glared at you. at this point, the whole conversation about you and thomas was long forgotten. the current topic was more interesting to discuss than your crush on thomas and thomas' somehow even bigger crush on you.

you sighed in defeat. "damn it."

"mhm," he hummed.

the rest of dinner was mostly silent, unless you were pestering your poor best friend about minho - each time you did, you could see minho grinning as gally almost spat out the food in his mouth. touched a nerve there, huh?

newt elbowed minho in the ribs, prompting a grunt from the runner. "stop tryin' to spy on them. mind ya business," the blond scolded.

"not even for scientific purposes?"

"you're too dumb for that."

"WHAT?? am not! shuck you, dude!"

meanwhile, thomas was just eating his food, trying his best-est (i know that's not a word, shut the fuck up) to not look at you. but what if.. newt and minho were too busy arguing, gally would probably be eating. nothing could go wrong.

except it did.

"tommy, quit starin' at 'em."

"I WASN'T EVEN-"

"you so were," minho interjected.

"so were you!!" thomas exclaimed. at this rate, if no one turned to look at them, trying to find out why they were arguing, it'd be shocking.

minho lifted a shoulder, "yeah, but i wasn't looking at y/n."

"ew," thomas muttered in disgust. gally, in his opinion, was an asshole, and likely forever would be. most, if not all, gladers knew that.

"come on, he's hot," the asian argued, newt beside him this close to facepalming. but could anyone blame him? this wasn't exactly an appropriate topic to be talking about during dinner, where literally anyone could hear you.

"good night." with that, thomas stood up from the table, going to get his plate cleaned off.

minho looked very offended.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

slowly, it was getting colder outside. yet, you kept waiting for thomas in the deadheads, where you always hung out.

you were about to head back into the glade to grab one of your old, but warm, sweaters. but, before you could even move your foot to take a step, thomas greeted you, panting.

"hey," he breathed out, pushing his damp hair back. "OH, SHIT-" you heard him exclaim as he inevitably tripped over the tree root. the same one that he always tripped over. it wouldn't be thomas otherwise.

you were quick to catch him, his hand landing on the bandaged part of your arm which you injured during the not-so-little chair-building project with gally. as much as you didn't want him to, he caught your hiss.

"are you okay? did i hurt you?" he asked, worry evident in both his tone and expression, brows furrowed and voice soft.

"i'm okay, i'm okay," you reassured. "are you?"

"mhm! thanks.. and, um, sorry."

a look of realization crossed his face. "fuck, m'sorry. am i late?"

"a little bit, yeah," you admitted. "it's fine, though."

you heard him sigh out in relief as he adjusted his shirt. the shirt clung to his still wet skin - obviously, he was in a rush, but he still somehow managed to be late. now that? that was a skill issue.

"good shower?" at your question, he nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "good shower," he repeated.

he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, a little embarrassed with himself for already making a fool out of himself barely a minute into his time with you.

you took in the sight of him. wet, indeed. only not a bit, but a lot. for a moment there, you found yourself questioning whether or not he knew that towels existed for a reason.

"i'm still a bit wet," he added, realizing how bad that sounded a beat later. he immediately wanted to smack himself in the forehead. if he could, he'd apologize about what he said, probably even elaborate on how he meant it in case you took it the wrong way, but he was too focused on you eyeing him. sure, you might not have been checking him out on purpose, but he'd take it either way.

snapping him back to reality was the sentence that left your mouth. if he wasn't blushing before, he definitely was now.

"must've been a pretty good shower if you're still that wet," you said. unintentional or not, you were slowly beggining to laugh at your own quip. it wasn't even that funny, he'd argue.

"come on, i didn't- fuck, i didn't mean it like-" you heard him begin to say, only for him to stop in the middle of his sentence as he looked at you like a deer in headlights. he could only hope his reddened cheeks wouldn't be too visible in the dark as he tried to justify himself. "y/n, you know i didn't mean it like that," he finished, a whine to his voice.

his reaction was priceless. the eyes? the cheeks? the stuttering? all of it and more, you'd pay to see again.

"tomato, tamahto" was your reply.

he pouted, already knowing that you were definitely going to be taking the piss out of him for the rest of the month. no, scratch that - for his entire life. he could only hope that you were going to go a little easy on him, but given how you already found his blunder hilarious, he knew he wasn't going to be getting off a light.

he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. he wasn't very good at pretending to be mad at you, but it was worth a shot. he didn't last a full minute before he was cracking up too.

"i hate you," he said through his laughter.

"no, you don't," you argued. "you adore me, just admit it."

he was tempted to do as you said. you could tell him to get on his knees, and he'd do it within half a second.

but maybe, just maybe, if he could just not say a word-

"i do, yeah," he admitted. immediately, he slapped a hand over his mouth, a guilty expression on his face.

"thought so."

"shut uppp," he whined through his fingers clasped over his mouth.

"what, now you don't want to hear my voice? i thought you-"

effectively shutting you up before you could finish what you were saying were thomas' lips against yours slightly chapped ones (due to the freezing tempetarures in the glade tonight). for a while, you stood still, taken aback. he was about to pull away, thinking he did something wrong, but then your hands settled on his hips, grabbing and grasping at the fabric of his grey sweatpants as a desperate attempt to have his body pressed against yours. the cold was getting to you and you needed to get warmed up, would be your excuse.

sadly, air was a thing that humans all desperately needed to live. that was the only reason you found yourselves, albeit hesitantly, withdrawing your lips from one another. if you could survive without oxygen, you'd gladly continue.

his hand found itself on your chin, adjusting your face so he could kiss you more. you were his oxygen.

his blunt fingernails clawed at your back to pull you flush against him. it was messy, desperate, and you could've sworn you heard your teeth clashing against his. if you weren't too busy trying to move the way he wanted you to, you'd be worried about chipping a tooth. that, however, was the last thing on your mind. just thomas.

he nipped at your bottom lip, begging for the entrance that you gladly granted him. in comparison to the first, in which you were confused for a moment, this felt way sloppier, more handsier.. not that you minded, you'd love to spend each and every one of your nights like this.

the brunet's back hit the rough tree bark as you pushed him against it, and, not even hesitating, you swallowed the pained moan prompted by your action. you had no clue how it happened, how you went from teasing the boy about a damn shower to being tongue-deep in his mouth. not that you were complaining. it wasn't like you could, mouth too occupied to mutter out a single thing that wasn't a moan.

after a couple seconds of this, you broke for air, panting in each other's faces.

"you taste like strawberries," you commented.

"do you not like my strawberry lip balm?" he rasped out, a pout on his lips.

"i don't," you confirmed. "fuckin' love it. c'mere."

he, without any form of hesitation, obeyed, tongues meeting to continue what you were doing just moments before. his hands, needing something to hold on to, moved under your shirt, taking you by surprise with how warm his hands were unlike yours. yours were cold - freezing, even.

tongues tangled, spit smeared over your kiss-swollen lips, you wished you would never have to draw back, as much as your lungs burned with an aching need for oxygen. meanwhile, your lips yearned for his. you yearned for him. how you were just now finding out would've shocked you in any normal scenario, but now your mind was hazy, all thoughts that weren't thomas blurry.

thomas' fingers dug crescent-moon shapes into your poor, poor back. instinctively, you backed him up against the tree yet again, this time with your hips. thomas was pretty sure he was in fucking heaven.

his head tipped back, and, as if he wasn't letting out enough noises before, he let out something between a sob and a moan. did that stop you guys, though? no. of course not. the gladers could listen in on y'all all they wanted, yet your only focus would be thomas.

his mouth was open, gasping for air, his chest heaving with each harsh breath he took. not a sight you saw often, but certainly something your eyes weren't minding witnessing.

"oh," he groaned, "fuck!"

for a runner, he was getting overwhelmed rather quickly. it was adorable to see.

"was that too much for you?" you questioned sarcastically.

"no," he insisted. "keep going. please. need you, please."

well, he requested it, so.. who were you to deny him what he wanted, much less needed?

too desperate to wait for you to kiss him, he initiated the kiss this time, slipping his tongue into your mouth without a warning. unfair much? you were about to kiss him!

his lips parted from yours, curving up to a smile at the corners. "we should-" he paused, inhaling with a gasp before continuing, "-do that more often."

"we should," you agreed.

eventually, after his breathing returned to normal, he asked, "one more?"

he pouted, giving you those puppy eyes of his. with how close you were to giving in, just because of those eyes, you were sure that before the glade he had to have graduated some sort of 'puppy eyes' school. which you were sure - and you also hoped - didn't exist. "y'know," he continued, "a little 'goodnight' kiss?"

meanwhile, you were still struggling to get the air into your lungs. so, taking your silence as an agreement, he kissed your cheek, his hands which were previously under your shirt cupping your face.

"there," he announced. "now come on, alby's gonna kill us if he catches us here."

he caught your hand in his, leading you back to the homestead.

if someone just popped out out of nowhere and saw how utterly wrecked he looked, he'd cry himself to sleep. genuinely. and to think you haven't even done anything more than kissing.

like the gentleman he was, he walked you to your hut, kissed you once again. apparently, just so you didn't forget how his lips felt. however, the both of you knew that that wasn't the real reason.

walking back to his own hut, he found himself speedwalking the second that gally somehow appeared in the hallway. he didn't feel like explaining anything that happened that night. not that be was embarrassed by it, no, of course not. if the consequences didn't exist, he'd be bragging about it to each and every one of his friends - except chuck, the kid didn't need to be traumatized by that. he knew that he'd get teased, though. he shook those thoughts off and instead, his brain went to you.

that night, he fell asleep smiling to himself.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

the next morning, he slept in.

"thomas," minho muttered, poking his cheek. thomas, sleeping, turned away, face buried into his pillow.

minho groaned, running a hand over his face in frustration. he was not having it.

"THOMAS, GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!" he exclaimed. he may or may not have woken up the entire glade with that, but at least thomas was up. finally.

"get your ass up. we've got work to do."

"five more minutesssss," the brunet pleaded, glancing up at minho from under his eyelashes.

"five seconds," minho corrected. "up."

thomas let out a loud groan, voice cracking. that, he'd blame on his hormones.

he practically rolled out of bed, slipping on a random shirt he had thrown over the chest in the corner of his room. minho, to be respectful, walked away, arms crossed. "try to make it quick, shank."

"uh-huh!" thomas called sleepily, ruffling his hair up. he bent down to grab a pair of pants, socks already on for some weird reason. since when did he sleep with socks on? shimmying into the jeans he picked out ('cause that ass too fat), he zipped them up, and adjusted his shirt afterwards. oh, and let's not forget the runners' harness.

within three minutes, thomas was out of the hut, still half-asleep, but thankfully not half-naked. with a proud smile, he closed the door behind him. "i exist," he announced.

"attaboy," minho replied, patting his back.

thomas tilted his head to look at minho. "breakfast?"

"mhm," he confirmed, already dragging him by the arm. thomas' half-functioning brain decided not to process that, apparently.

"min?" he called.

"yes, thomas?"

"what's for breakfast?" he was about to give minho time to answer, but then decided he'd much rather play a guessing game instead of letting the older boy talk. "ooh, sandwiches?"

"mmm hmm," minho drawled. "enough with the questions, though. i'm not awake enough for this, okay?"

"oh, okay!"

minho raised an eyebrow. sleepy thomas was definitely more.. understanding than the usual thomas. now minho wanted thomas to be groggy and barely conscious all the time.

"min," he called again, tapping his shoulder. "the ones with chicken?"

nevermind.

minho's voice came out more irritated than originally intended to, but fuck it. it wasn't like he could do anything about it. "thomas, i really, really, really don't know."

"'cause i hate those with chicken," thomas murmured.

"sit down."

before actually complying, he let out a noise of protest. then, he plopped into the chair, head in his hands. coffee would really be appreciated right now.

soon, minho joined him at the table, newt half-asleep next to the him. minho passed something to thomas. a veggie sandwich - thankfully, without chicken. "here."

thomas lifted his head up from his hands, grabbing the sandwich in an instant. "thanks, dude."

"mhm," he replied. newt next to him leaned back in his chair, blond hair tied up into a half up half down man bun, a few stray hairs here and there getting into his eyes.

"your shirt's on backwards," newt informed. minho's eyebrows scrunched in confusion and checked his shirt, only to find that it wasn't his shirt that was backwards. just slightly lifted at his side, revealing his hip, which he made sure to fix.

thomas, meanwhile, was eating his sandwich. once swallowing, he looked at the two older guys, head cocked. "what?"

"your shirt's on backwards," newt glared at minho for stealing his line. "okay, copycat," they said in sync. newt, annoyed yet panicked, flailed his arms around, trying to come up with a response. "stop doing that, you dick" was the only thing he managed to say.

minho looked utterly betrayed.

meanwhile, thomas took his shirt off to put it on. correctly, this time.

"thomas, are you stripping? in front of us? ew, do that in front of y/n, shuck-face," minho grumbled, shaking his head.

thomas groaned, adjusting his shirt. "does that mouth of yours ever shut the fuck up? or do you need someone to shut it for you? huh?"

minho's jaw dropped. "okay, rude."

"drama queen.." and his jaw dropped even more.

"i feel insulted."

"good. that's what you get for not telling me my shirt was on backwards."

"DUDE! i literally just told you!"

"no, i did. i said it first," newt said, a bit more harshly than intended. "sorry, just don't want you gettin' credit for something you didn't do."

he scowled. "you're supposed to be on my side!"

"yeah, and? you fucking copied me. that's so bitchy."

"i'm not a bitch, take it the fuck back."

newt's mouth opened and closed, almost frantically as he tried to come up with something to say, preferably something along the lines of "no". any sort of refusal.

but alby interrupted them as he came into the room, the door slamming shut behind his back.

"people are trying to sleep, if you haven't noticed. slim it," he grumbled.

"sorry," the two gladers said in unison. again. thomas swallowed his sandwich and joined them, saying, "yeah, uh, sorry."

oops.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

usually, after they returned from the maze, they'd catch their breath, head into the map room to work, and then work-out. today was different. today, they spent the rest of the day gossiping with newt, who joined the two runners with snacks freshly picked from the gardens: berries!

and then you and gally joined, to newt and thomas' shock. minho knew that you'd be stopping by, he just couldn't be bothered to tell the others.

when you came into sight, thomas smiled, happy to see you. especially after last night, why wouldn't he be?

"hey, gal!" minho's greeting shouldn't have been as excited-sounding as it was. for a reason he couldn't quite explain - at least, without getting embarrassed about it a second later - gally liked it.

"and hi, y/n," he added.

newt merely waved his hand, a little awkwardly.

you gave them a nod of acknowledgement, mumbling a quiet "hi."

"hey," said gally before turning his attention to what you were initially here for: getting rid of the remains of the broken chair and the other chairs that were on the verge of collapsing, something that in no way was similar to simping over the runners.

once you were done, you, the runners, and newt said your goodbyes and returned to what you were doing before. you, reading a book. gally, calling each and everyone one of the builders slintheads - for him, it was a hobby at this point.

back in the map room, the two runners discussed what changed in the maze, newt listening to them talk. somehow, the topic shifted to minho's beloved hair gel, jeff's perfectionism, alby's short temper, and thomas' love life?

"thomas, dude, i love you. in a platonic way. but you're an idiot," minho said, shaking his head in disapproval. "why don't you just tell 'em? y'know.. then, just make sweet, sweet love to 'em."

thomas' cheeks flushed. he wished he could be anywhere but in this building. ideally on the other side of the glade, as far away from minho as possible.

"relationships don't really work like that, mate."

"and names shouldn't work the way they do, 'cause why are you named after isaac newton? i thought he was supposed to be smart or something." newt rolled his eyes as minho continued, "also, relationships do work like that. it's never too late to admit you've never had one, y'know.."

"tommy, don't listen to him," newt pleaded.

".. why would i ever listen to minho when he's trying to give advice?" thomas mumbled. one time, minho told him to wear a cropped shirt, because it'd look good on him - in minho's words. since minho was his best friend, he listened to him. never in his life would he ever again take his advice. the bullying.. oh, the bullying. that was something he wouldn't wish upon anyone, not even upon his worst enemy.

"shuck you," minho all but exclaimed, pointing at the former runner. he began to point at thomas, too. "both of you. shuck you."

"YOU'RE THE ONE GIVING SHITTY ADVICE!"

minho feigned a frown, pretending to be sad. it looked like he was a severely constipated five year old kid more than anything. thomas and newt being the good friends they were only snickered at his expression, exchanging glances while minho whined, "am not!! i'm deeply hurt by this, and i am so not sitting with you during dinner."

"sit with gally, then," thomas offered, shrugging. newt coughed before letting out a laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. soon, thomas joined him with the wheezing.

to minho, this was not as funny as it was to the other two.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ★ ་༘࿐

apparently, minho took thomas' offer way too seriously and he ended up joining him during dinner. feeling too awkward to have to watch the two flirt over literal beef stew, you excused yourself from the table and sat with thomas, who had been sitting alone, instead.

newt was sitting with alby, discussing something important. what they were talking about, you had no clue and neither did thomas.

not that he really cared, anyways. you were literally sitting next to him, and that was the only thing he could care about. you were sitting next to him. you were sitting next to him!! he knew he shouldn't be as influenced by your presence as he currently was, but it wasn't like he could really help it. he'd been in love with you since, well, forever - forever being the one month he's been in the glade.

he nibbled at his food for a while before swallowing.

"how was work?" he asked.

"well, it was chaotic. as usual," you answered truthfully. "how was the maze?"

he shrugged. "y'know.. the usual, trying not to run into a wall, trying to avoid getting turned into a griver snack."

"fun," you commented, grinning.

"yeah, real fun, having to listen to minho ramble about how mad he is at newt," he complained.

you glanced at the second-in-command, then at the keeper of the runners. "how come?"

"minho copying newt and giving shitty advice."

you tilted your head, puzzled. you figured the advice in question must've been horrible if it got him into a fight with newt, and it must've been a pretty bad fight if minho talked about it the entire run. "what kind of shitty advice?"

thomas stiffened.

silence.

"uh.."

more silence.

"well-"

"spit it out, thomas."

"he told newt that he should cut his hair," he lied. "that he wouldn't have to deal with getting his hair in his eyes when he's working in the garden."

"oh."

"newt loves his hair," he explained. god, he was a bad liar, wasn't he? surely, you'd find out. eventually. right??

"you can't exactly blame him," you said. he breathed a sigh of relief.

"yeah, his hair is gorgeous," he agreed.

"i like your hair better, though," you admitted. he was taken aback for a moment, nearly dropping the cutlery that was in his hands.

"you do, huh?"

"damn right, i do," you confirmed, jokingly ruffling his hair. it was so soft, like cashmere. as you toyed with his hair, he was internally cheering. had he just won in life? because it sure felt like it.

"i'm flattered," he attempted to joke - when, really, it wasn't a joke in the slightest. that might've been the first compliment that he'd ever gotten about his looks in his entire life - well, now, in the glade.

you simply smiled and took you hand back. for a moment there, he was tempted to tell you to leave your hand where it was. had the gladers not been watching, you would've happily listened and even let him put it back where it previously had been tangled in his messy, brown locks.

"sooo, uh, question," he drawled, looking you up and down with a grin, telling you that he was about to say something stupid as fuck. it was thomas, after all - by this point, you were pretty much used to it, and so was everyone else.

"go on," you encouraged as you brought the fork to your mouth to chew on the meat.

"like.. what are we?"

you let out a small yelp as you bit into you fork. as you swallowed, thomas patiently waited for a response, finger rapping against the wooden table. "sorry," he murmured, feeling guilty. "don't answer if you don't want to. just curious, y'know, after last night."

you shook your head in 'it's fine', and thought about an answer that you could possibly give him, only to find out you had no clue what to say. what were you? you wanted him to be your boyfriend, that was for sure. uncertain, you settled for, "what do you want us to be?"

"i want to be yours." it took you off guard - well, not it, as in the sentence itself, but how eager he sounded. you weren't opposed to it, though.

"and i want you to be mine," you confessed. "thomas, will you be my boyfriend?"

immediately, he said, "yes."

if he could, he would've kissed you right then and there. sadly, he had an audience of 40 teenage boys + teresa. he was not going to give them a show that entertaining to watch.

you lifted yourself up from your seat and walked away to get your bowl cleaned off. he promptly followed, basically running after you with a puppy-like look in his eyes. "wait up! please?? come on, i love you!"

"yeah, love you, too, tommy," you called back.

"i'm serious!!" he cried. once he caught up, his hand found yours. you felt him squeeze slightly and you looked at him. he pouted, feigning offense.

"so am i," you reassured.

"good."

[randommultifandomrants]

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

[cruel-seduction]

It’s like a full-blown addiction, but instead of drugs or booze, it’s this fictional guy who’s got her wrapped around his finger. She knows it’s fucked up—knows she’s out here daydreaming about someone who’s not even real—but who cares? This guy? He’s everything. He’s charming in the worst ways, flawed in every possible sense, but there’s just something about him that has her hooked. He doesn’t even know she exists, but she’s ready to fight anyone who says a word against him. Seriously, she’ll defend his honor like it’s a fucking life-or-death mission.

He’s a goddamn trainwreck, but he’s her trainwreck. She’ll put up with all his baggage, his emotional scars, his dark sides, because somehow, that brokenness makes him feel more real to her than any real guy could. He’s messed up, but she’ll fix him in her head every single time. Maybe it’s that thrill of knowing he’s dangerous and untouchable that makes him even more irresistible. He might break her heart in a hundred ways, but it’s the kind of heartbreak that makes her feel alive, even if it hurts like hell.

And it’s never gonna happen, right? She knows that. He’s not gonna waltz into her life and sweep her off her feet. But it doesn’t matter. Because she gets to have him on her terms—no messy reality, no awkward first dates, no risking her heart for real. He’s always there when she needs him, in that perfect little bubble of fantasy she’s built for herself. And maybe she’s a little crazy for it, but at least with him, she’s never disappointed. Every time she replays his scenes, reads the fanfics, imagines their future together—it's like a high she can never quite shake. She knows it's all just a mindfuck, but she’s never felt more alive.

[noelan1]

I can't trust character ai with my fictional crushes because they make them completely different and always say things that aren't canon

¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

As Brave As You Are (Newt x Reader) - A Maze Runner Story

As Brave As You Are (Newt x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 12,051 Warnings: death, bloody wounds, fighting, mental and physical torture, guns, suicidal thoughts and actions Spoilers: no spoilers because the books and films came out ages ago

After helping Newt recover from his ankle injury, Y/N and Newt formed an unbreakable bond that always had them looking out for each other. When they escaped the Maze, then navigated the Scorch, they always had each other’s back. It isn’t until Y/N is captured alongside Minho by WCKD and Newt contracts the Flare that he realises how he truly feels about Y/N.

Problem is, will he rescue her in time to tell her?

Note: I'm back in my dystopian future era thanks to the new Hunger Games film so of course I had to write for my original YA crush. This piece is based on the movie series mainly. Don't get mad at me, I love the books more, but I can appreciate the storylines that came out of the path they took with the films. And if there is one thing the TMR fandom can agree on, it is that the film cast was the best cast ever for the series. So enjoy - not sorry that it's horrendously long, Newt deserves it xx

‘Medjack! Medjack, now!’

Y/N recognised it was Minho was calling for help. Clint and Jeff ran out of the med hut to see what all the commotion was. It wasn’t long before they were hurrying back inside, carrying Newt of all people between them, Minho and Alby in tow.

‘Clear the table,’ Clint ordered, and Y/N quickly followed through, practically throwing off containers, bowls and medical instruments to get Newt on there as quick as possible. Once Newt was up, Y/N finally noticed the unnatural twist in his ankle and it almost sent Frypan’s sloppy sweet potato soup right back up. 

She was still pretty new to her job as a Medjack, being the greenie and all. She was the only girl in the Glade of the current twelve residents, so she was intimidated at first as to what role she could play in the place. Medjack seemed the most suitable, and she seemed to have a knack for it, having stitched up some eyebrows and cleaned up knee scrapes with ease and precision. 

But even though she’d seen blood, dealt with displaced bones and joints, she still got queasy doing her job. It didn’t help that Newt was hissing through clenched teeth from the intense pain, an occasional sob passing through.

‘What happened?’ Y/N asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Minho said. ‘We split up for only five minutes. I thought we could cover more ground that way. And we’ve run that part of the Maze like a hundred times already. I thought we’d be fine…’

Clint held Newt down as Jeff and Y/N took a look at Newt’s ankle. Jeff only pressed gently with his fingers around the bone, but Newt’s responding howls confirmed the severity of the injury.

‘The bone is completely shattered,’ Jeff said grimly. ‘We’re going to need to reset his foot first though. Y/N?’

‘On it.’ She rushed to a shelf that held bandages, then to a cupboard with flat boards about shin length. She grabbed two of those before heading back to the table.

‘You’re going to have to hold him down,’ Y/N directed at Alby and Minho, gesturing to follow Clint’s efforts. Then she turned to Newt, whose face was slicked with tears and sweat as he continued to writhe in pain. ‘Newt. Newt, can you open your eyes for me? I need you to focus on me.’

To his credit, Newt opened his eyes and he didn’t look away from her. 

‘Good. Good, Newt,’ she said. ‘Now, we have to realign your foot. It’s going to hurt a lot. We’ll go on three, okay?’

In the short time Y/N had known Newt – which arguably was no time at all, as he ran every day and she was in the Medjack hut all day. They didn’t interact unless he or another runner got hurt, or at dinner if only to say hello. Even so, she had come to know he liked it plain and straight, no bullshit. So, despite his pain, he took two deep, calming breaths and gave her a nod to say he was ready for what they had to do.

Y/N nodded back, then looked to the others, who had their hands braced on all Newt’s limbs. ‘Ready?’ she asked, to which they nodded in reply. Y/N gently held Newt’s ankle, eliciting a quiet whimper from the boy. ‘Okay, on three. One, two…’ She cut herself off as she slammed her hands either side the ankle bone, causing a loud cracking sound as the ankle snapped back into place. 

Newt’s wail of pain must’ve been heard from across the whole Glade it was so loud. He writhed and pulled to sit up, but the boys held him down as Y/N and Jeff bandaged the two splints either side of Newt’s ankle. Jeff then dabbed a small dose of chloroform in a cloth and pressed it to Newt’s nose. Soon enough, the boy was unconscious, finally pain-free.

‘You guys go have dinner,’ Y/N said to Clint and Jeff a little while later as they were cleaning up the hut. Alby and Minho had left soon after Newt fell asleep, but it was almost dinner time now. ‘I’ll stay with Newt tonight.’

‘You sure?’ Clint asked. ‘We can do shifts if you’d prefer.’

Y/N shook her head. ‘I insist. You guys rest up. I can do this. Consider this my final test to becoming a fully-fledged Medjack.’

Jeff chuckled. ‘You have much more to learn, Greenie, but suit yourself.’

‘We’ll bring you back some food, Y/N,’ Clint said as he and Jeff left the hut, leaving Y/N to idly clean up.

Newt woke up from a dull throbbing in his ankle, which turned into a harsh pain, causing him to sit up in alarm. 

‘Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ a voice gently said as equally gentle hands pushed him back down.

‘My ankle,’ he said, voice hoarse and dry. ‘It hurts…’

The face of the voice finally came into view: it was the Greenie. Y/N offered him a small smile as he finally recognised her. In one hand, she held a needle with clear serum. Her other she offered to his leg. ‘May I? It’ll help, I promise.’

He hesitated for a moment, but the intense pain in his ankle broke his composure as he eagerly nodded. The painkiller worked immediately, and Newt sighed with relief as the throbbing eased significantly.

’There,’ Y/N said, wiping the needle. ’That should help for a bit. Sadly, we don’t have much left for me to give you more than once a day, but I’m hoping you won’t need it beyond the end of the month.’

Confusion clouded Newt’s mind as he tried to process her words. ‘What… What happened?’ But he answered his own question as images of the Maze flashed through his mind, and he remembered it all. How he bid farewell to Minho. How he climbed as high as he could along the Maze walls. How easy it was to let go. 

Then the pain fully encompassed him, and then it was just a blur. How Minho found him. How Clint and Jeff laid him on the table he realised he was still on. How angry and embarrassed he felt having his friends see him broken and miserable. 

Newt managed to pull himself into a sitting position, propping a pillow behind him to cushion the hut wall. ‘How bad is it?’ he asked glumly, eyes unable to lift from his injury.

He couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries. He was too tired, and, frankly, saw no point in keeping up appearances anymore. 

To her credit, Y/N seemed to pick up on his mood, saying, ‘It will heal to a point you’ll be able to walk again. But it won’t ever heal properly.’

‘You mean I’ll have a limp?’

‘Potentially.’

’So I can’t be a Runner anymore?’ Y/N didn’t reply, finally drawing Newt’s attention away from the source of his pain and to her. 

Newt had only interacted with Y/N on a few occasions. Mainly at mealtimes or the odd occasion he passed her by on the way back from a run, only talking as much as greeting and farewelling one another. As the only girl so far, of course he found her intriguing, but he never had time nor a reason to get to know her.

And while he’d come to think of her as the quiet and gentle Medjack in comparison to Clint and Jeff, he didn’t see an ounce of pity on her face as she looked at him. Only quiet contemplation, as if there could be any other answer but no to his question.

‘I guess that’s up to you and Alby,’ she finally said. ‘I mean, I know what I should say is no. I’m sure Clint and Jeff will say no. But it’ll more so come down to if you want to go back in or not.’ Her eyes flickered to his ankle, sadness glazing her eyes briefly before returning to him. ‘But I think I can take a guess as to what your answer will be.’

Newt’s gut twisted with guilt and shame that she’d figured it out, and his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. ‘So, you going to tell everyone?’ he asked, words thick  with hopelessness. ‘I mean, that’s your job, right? Diagnose me, then tell Alby, then the whole glade how pathetic I am?’

Y/N shook her head. ‘I think you give me too much credit. I’m not an actual doctor, you know,’ she said, coming to stand beside him. She inspected his ankle for a moment, then turned her gaze to him, and it shocked him to see such intensity in her eyes. It was as if suddenly he was the most interesting person in the world.

‘I can say it was a running accident,’ she finally concluded. ‘You can tell your truth when you’re ready. It’s not my place to take away hope when the others are so full of it right now. That includes me.’

He stared, stunned, as she packed up the last of her things by a spare medical cot at the other end of the hut. It wasn’t until she let out a loud yawn that Newt noticed it was dark outside. The silence of the Glade told him everyone else had gone to bed so it was late. Or early, he couldn’t really tell.

Y/N fluffed a sad excuse of a pillow and put it on the cot. ‘Now that I know you’re alive, are you going to be okay if I get a few minutes shut eye? I can stay up if you’d like.’

Now that the initial shock and embarrassment of the day’s events had subsided, Newt realised how exhausted he was still. ‘No, that’s okay,’ he said. ‘I think I should rest a bit more anyway.’

Y/N nodded and swung her legs up to lie down fully. Newt went to slide himself and his pillow back down to do the same when Y/N spoke again.

‘And Newt?’ she said, her voice soft and almost hesitant.

‘Yeah?’ he called back.

She was silent for so long Newt thought she’d gone to sleep. But then she spoke. ‘For the record, I don’t think you’re pathetic. For wanting it all to end, that is. I actually think what you did was really brave. You might be scared and maybe out of hope, but at least you did something about it. The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you.’

Newt’s breath caught in his chest as it swelled with a mix of emotions. Brave? What he did was the act of a coward. Tears streamed silently down his face, both from a deep shame, but also a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you…

Newt had lost all hope after a year of searching for a way out and finding nothing. But she didn’t know that, and neither will the next Greenie, or the Greenie after that. Even some of the boys already in the Glade didn’t know that. That’s why they waited every day for the runners – for him – to come back with news, with a shred of hope that they’d get out of there soon. 

Newt twisted himself so he could see Y/N, who was rolled away from him, her body rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. Even if he thought it would all be hopeless in the end, some truly believed they would get out of here.

And maybe that was something worth fighting for.

~

Two years on and Newt and Y/N had managed to forge something akin to a friendship. 

Y/N had kept her word and said Newt had had a running accident, and he’d agreed with her for the sake of his worried friends. Y/N had also been right about his ankle; it healed to point where he could walk and do a decent jog with a limp. But he would never run again. 

He was transferred to work as a Track-Hoe in the gardens with Zart. But it wasn’t all bad. As more boys arrived – never any girls much to their confusion – Newt developed a knack for leading others, for diffusing hard situations, and for wrangling the boys into line. Because of that, he was promoted to Alby’s second-in-command, which gave him more meaningful work to do than just the gardens – stuff that might actually get him and the other Gladers out of the bloody Maze. 

It also meant he had more time to talk to Y/N. He would make sure to drop by once a day (and not just at mealtimes) to check in on her. For a time, he convinced himself he did that because it was his job as second-in-command to keep up group morale, and he would visit everyone in the Glade. Eventually, however, he realised it was because he genuinely enjoyed her company.

Since that night, Y/N had come out of her shell more. Still a little shy and apprehensive at times, but she would openly joke and play along with the boys’ antics. She was more confident in her work as a Medjack too, not afraid to boss Clint and Jeff around if she needed something from them.

Newt’s visits became longer, as they talked about any and all things. Aside from Alby and Minho, Newt considered Y/N one of his closest friends. And she must’ve felt the same – or at least in a similar fashion – as she entertained his thoughts about life beyond the Maze, and the rants he would go on thanks to whichever stupid shank put the fertiliser in the wrong place.

It was a friendship built on mutual respect and genuine care for one another, something that helped Newt convince Y/N to come with him and the others when they finally decided to leave the Maze. But he couldn’t help but feel a deep dread and guilt as he waited behind Thomas, knowing that Grievers were right around the corner.

While the others caught up, Newt turned to Y/N – who’d been helping him through the Maze with his limp – and offered her a spare spear he’d been carrying.

Her eyes widened at his offering. ‘I can’t take that. I can’t fight.’

‘Well, you can’t just go in there without something to protect yourself,’ he said, this time forcibly handing the spear over. Y/N clutched the spear awkwardly, and Newt saw the uncertainty in her eyes, in her trembling hands.

Newt felt bad for making her hold such a violent weapon. All her hands had ever done were help people, save them at times. Now he was asking her to kill. It was for the greater good they both knew, but to kill, nonetheless.

Newt placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and locked eyes with her. ‘Hey,’ he said softly, ‘you stay with me the whole time, do you understand? I promise you won’t have to use that unless absolute necessary.’

Y/N bit her lip to stop it trembling too, but she nodded, steeling herself in preparation for the fight ahead. Newt reciprocated the action and gave her shoulder a final squeeze before turning to face Thomas as he explained the plan.

They fought the Grievers, taking down a few while some of them took down Gladers. The Gladers were backed against the door that Teresa and Chuck were trying to open with a code. Minho shouted numbers at them as he, Newt, and the others fended off one last Griever.

Before he could finish, Minho was caught by a Griever, and Clint ran out to save him. But the Griever’s tail caught him, sending him over the edge of the walkway they fought on with one flick.

‘Clint!’

Before Newt could stop her, Y/N rushed out from behind him, spear drawn back and flying at the Griever in seconds. Not being a fighter to begin with, let alone a good one, the spear bounced off its metal leg without much effect. It did, however, alert the Griever to her presence, turning all its attention to her. Minho leapt to his feet, finally free, and ran back to the group. ‘Y/N!’ he cried as he ran. ‘Run!’

Y/N seemed to finally realise her situation, looking up at the Griever frozen with fear. The horrible creature raised its claw to end her, but Newt moved faster. 

He ran as fast as he could, limp be damned, past Y/N and threw his spear at the Griever’s head. It landed true, puncturing one of the creature’s bulbous eyes, drawing a painful screech from it. Newt didn’t wait to see what it would do next, as he grabbed one of Y/N’s arms and Minho grabbed the other and ran back to the group, practically throwing her behind the front line and against the door. 

Teresa finally got the door open and the Gladers tumbled in, Thomas throwing one last spear down the Griever’s throat as the doors closed. 

Lights flickered on to show they were in some empty room with a door on the wall behind them leading to a corridor.

Thomas looked at the group, taking heavy breaths. ‘Everyone okay?’

‘What’s left of us, that is,’ Winston said, his tone sad and regretful. 

As Newt eyed the group, he noted how many they’d lost, how little their group seemed all of a sudden. 

Minho stepped ahead with Thomas, pointing towards the door. ‘Well? It’s not going to open itself.’

As Minho and Thomas led the group to the exit, Newt turned to Y/N, whose eyes had a distant look glazed over them. ‘What were you thinking?’ he asked, bringing her attention to him. ‘I told you to stay behind me. You could’ve been killed.’

‘I-I know. I’m sorry,’ she stuttered out, tears teetering in her E/C eyes. ‘I just… Clint… It all happened so fast, and I was just kind of moving before I knew what I was doing.’ She looked down at her hands then, and Newt noticed a slight tremble to them. ‘I thought I could help, but I was too slow. And I put you guys in danger too. I’m just… I’m sorry.’

Newt’s guilt came back full force then. He placed a gentle hand over her trembling one, grasping her fingers to stop their shaking. When she looked up at him confused, he just said, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into thinking you had to fight. You won’t ever hold a weapon like that again. I promise.’

Y/N opened her mouth to object no doubt, but Newt cut her off. ‘But you have to promise me something back. Promise me that you’ll let us protect you. You can help by keeping us alive, just like you always have. But you’ve got to listen to me, you got it?’

He used his authoritative voice this time, and it seemed to work as Y/N calmed down, her unshed tears now gone.

‘Okay,’ she said, quiet but strong. ‘I promise.’

Newt nodded. ‘Good that.’ He turned to see the others leaving through the door then turned back to Y/N. ’Do you think we’d be lucky enough not to face anything else beyond those doors.’

‘I think we should consider ourselves lucky for getting this far.’ To her credit, Y/N managed a small smile as she looked up at him. ‘But why should our luck run out now?’

There it was again; the glimmer of hope Newt had felt from her since the night he injured his ankle. Newt couldn’t deny that they’d made it this far – by design or by luck, they’d made it. 

And who was he to deny that things might be on the look up for them now?

Together, Y/N and Newt followed the rest of the Gladers to meet their makers.

~

‘I never thought I’d say this… but I miss the Glade.’

The group around the fire grew silent at the implication Frypan’s words had, the memories they conjured up. Y/N couldn’t help but agree as she looked into the dark sky above her, peaking from behind the crumbling pillars they took refuge under. 

The sky was always so clear back in the Glade, she recalled silently. But, just like their current situation, the sky was now obscured. 

The people who rescued them from the Maze were actually WCKD – the people who’d put them in the Maze in the first place. The past twelve hours had seen herself, Newt, Thomas, Minho, Frypan, Winston, and a boy named Aris find Teresa, break out of the facility, and enter the deadly Scorch. In their search for supplies, they’d been attacked by crazed, infected people, driving the group to hide where they were.

The Maze was dangerous, but it was familiar and the only home Y/N recalled ever having. Out in the Scorch, safety wasn’t guaranteed. 

She looked to Winston, who laid back, his shirt pulled up to expose the bloody bandage she’d wrapped his torso in. Y/N tried not to think about the infected scratch marks underneath, and more specifically what gave them to him. The Grievers were one thing, but the things that attacked them? They used to be people.

Not wanting to sit in her thoughts anymore, Y/N stood up, brushed off her pants, and grabbed knife from their pile of weapons they’d found in the abandoned mall. ‘I’ll take first watch.’ 

She didn’t wait to hear if anyone objected, already walking around the stone that covered them so she was on top. To her relief, the others let her go without argument, putting out the fire and quickly settling down to sleep.

After half an hour, Y/N decided to get up and patrol around the area, knife tightly gripped in her hand and her footsteps quiet despite the sand. 

There was so much of it,  the sand. The lady in white – Doctor Ava Paige – had said in her video that the whole world was just desert now. The thought made Y/N yearn for the Glade even more. For the grass, and the woods, and the bonfires they used to have, and the games they played. The boys – Clint, Jeff, Alby, Gally, Chuck. 

Y/N wasn’t a hateful person, but she clutched the knife tighter at the thought of all the loss they’d all suffered at the hands of WCKD. 

It’s why she didn’t hesitate to follow Newt when he’d found her in her room – for some reason, she hadn’t been allowed to stay with the other girls from the other mazes just yet. It’s why they were now braving the Scorch searching for people that Thomas didn’t know even existed. They wanted a better life out from under WCKD’s thumb.

The crunch of sand had her whirling around, awkwardly poising the knife as if to attack, but she relaxed at the familiar person standing there.

Newt raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Whoa there,’ he said, the quirk of a smile on his lips telling her he was just joking. ‘You could do some real damage if you’re not careful.’

Y/N blew out in relief, the knife dropping to her side again. ‘Thanks, but we both know that’s not the case, Newt.’

Newt shoved his hands in his jacket pocket, shrugging his shoulders as he did. ‘I don’t know, I’ve seen you with a scalpel. Absolutely terrifyingly precise with that thing.’

Y/N chuckled softly, appreciative of the distraction. But her smile dropped as she looked out into the dark cityscape. The moon hid behind clouds so Y/N couldn’t make out anything. ‘Is it pathetic that I’m scared to see what the world has become?’ she asked, not daring to raise her voice above a soft mumble.

Newt stepped up beside her, his body radiating the last remnants of heat from the fire and it warmed her slightly. ’Someone once told me that I was brave for facing my fear,’ he said after some quiet contemplation. 

Y/N looked up at him confused, but he looked down at her with a knowing, smug smile. Much to her chagrin, she couldn’t help but chuckle and shake her head at him. ‘I don’t recall saying that specifically. But if that’s how you saw it, who am I to tell you that wasn’t what I meant?’

Newt hummed in agreement looking back out at the dark expanse, contemplation scrunching his brows together. ‘I’ll be honest with you, I’m scared too.’

That surprised Y/N. Newt, second-in-command, casual, leader Newt was scared? ‘You are?’

Newt nodded. ‘I’m scared that we’ve made a mistake. That Thomas is wrong and there aren’t any mountain people.’ He turned back to Y/N, the most serious she’d ever seen him. ‘I’m scared we’re going to lose more of us, and then what was our escape for? But… it’s not my place to take away hope when the others are so full of it. Including myself.’ Finally, Newt’s smile returned, and it warmed that cold pit of despair Y/N had been falling into ever since they left the WCKD facility. ‘Or, at least, I think that’s what someone very wise once told me.’

Y/N stared at him, awestruck. Hopeful. Newt was hopeful again. And she didn’t want to read into it, but she thought the knowing smile he was giving her told her that she had something to do with it. The thought alone strengthened her resolve, and she looked down at the knife in her hands, less afraid of it all of a sudden.

Y/N held it out to Newt. ’Teach me.’

He raised an eyebrow in a silent question. ‘What?’

’Teach me. How to fight,’ Y/N explained, eyes unwavering from his. 

Concern flashed across Newt’s face for a brief moment. ‘Y/N, I told you, you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to.’

‘If there is one thing I’ve come to know about WCKD is that it doesn’t actually matter what I want anymore. What any of us want,’ Y/N said, feeling the most certain she’s felt in a long time. ‘The one thing we have on WCKD is that we are defiant. We escaped, and are taking away the one thing they want most of all: a chance to find a cure. So, if we’re going to have any hopes of making it to the mountains alive, I’m going to have to know how to fight. So please – teach me.’

Newt contemplated her for a moment, and Y/N just prayed he wouldn’t say no. Or even worse, laugh. Instead of doing either, he took the knife from Y/N’s hand, his fingers brushing across her palm as he did. 

‘All right,’ he said, moving his feet apart to get into a fighting stance. ‘First of all, you’ve got to have a wide-ish stance, and stay light on your toes so you can control when you back away from your opponent.’ 

He demonstrated the movement by quickly shuffling away, always keeping his feet a certain distance apart and the knife gripped tight by his hip. ‘…and when you go into attack.’ He moved so fast Y/N didn’t see his footwork, her eyes locked on his as they bored into hers, knife poised at her neck as if he’d strike.

He stepped away and gave her the knife back. ‘You think you can do that?’

Y/N nodded and took the knife, and for the next hour Newt taught Y/N basic blocks and manoeuvres that he’d picked up from Thomas and Minho and just from basic instinct. Just like she’d been with her Medjack skills, Y/N was a quick study, performing move after move when Newt asked her to. 

She impressed herself. For a natural pacifist, she wielded the knife quite fluently.

They decided to finish the session on a quick sparring match. Newt took a swipe at Y/N, and she stepped back just like Newt had taught her. She then rushed in for an attack, to which Newt threw up his own knife in time to block. Y/N anticipated the pushback and twisted out of Newt’s way as he stumbled slightly forward. While he was disorientated, Y/N gripped his wrist that controlled his knife and pointed her own into his back. 

‘Looks like I win,’ she said, breathless but proud.

Y/N didn’t like the carefree scoff he gave her, followed by, ‘Are you sure?’

She doubted herself for a moment, loosening her grip enough for him to twist out of her reach, knock her knife away and bend to sweep her legs out from underneath her. Y/N landed hard, groaning at the pain in her butt as Newt looked down at her and laughed. 

‘I’m glad you find my pain amusing, Newt,’ she grumbled, rubbing her sore behind.

Newt laughed for a moment longer then calmed down. But his radiant smile remained on his face, brightening the darkness surrounding them. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ he said between remaining chuckles. To his credit, he held out his hand in an offer to help her up. ’But the surprise on your face was priceless.’

Y/N contemplated his hand for a moment, whether she should just push it away or take it. Instead, an idea came to mind, and she gripped his hand tightly then pulled him to the ground with her. He landed on his stomach beside her, getting a face full of sand.

Y/N let out a loud laugh before quickly covering her mouth to stifle the relentless laughter that wished to burst from her. 

Newt spat and coughed out sand as he made to sit up. ‘Well,’ he started, spitting out more sand as he looked up at Y/N, ‘I should’ve seen that coming.’

That just made Y/N laugh even harder, using now both hands to quieten the giggles. Goodness, when was the last time she’d laughed this freely? When was the last time she’d felt such joy? After everything they’d been through, Y/N was worried she’d forgotten what was like to laugh.

When she’d calmed down, she looked down to see Newt propped up on his arms looking up at her with an odd expression on his face. Like he was in awe, maybe. Whatever it was, it made Y/N acknowledge how handsome Newt had become. His baby features had faded since she’d first met him, being replaced by a lean figure and a toned jawline from working in the gardens every day for two years. And with his big brown eyes, tousled blond hair and funny accent, Y/N wondered how he had changed so much without her realising it. How she hadn’t realised he’d grown up.

The intensity with which he looked at her brought a heated blush to her face, and so she turned away into the cool night breeze, willing the blush to cool down. Newt shuffled to sit up next to her. They didn’t speak for a minute, until Newt suddenly stood up. 

‘Well, um,’ he started, and for the first time since Y/N had known him, he sounded uncertain about what to say. ‘I better let you continue with your shift. At least you know how to defend yourself now.’

Y/N hastily stood up as well, making sure there was at least a step between them. ‘Yes!’ she said. ‘Thank you for that. I’ll be sure to practice.’

‘Good that.’ 

They looked at each other for a moment, and even though Newt said he was leaving, he made no move to leave. Maybe he doesn’t want to, she thought, and the mere possibility of that being true warmed her heart.

But he took a step away, gave her a shy smile and a small wave farewell. ‘Goodnight, Y/N.’

‘Goodnight Newt,’ she said, those two words hanging in the air long after he’d left.

As she finally woke Frypan up for his shift, she clung to the knife and went through all the manoeuvres Newt had taught her until she fell asleep. 

Newt was unable to sleep until Y/N woke Frypan up to take the next watch shift, and laid down to sleep herself. Newt opened his eyes to see Y/N laying across the pit they’d dug out for the fire. She faced him on her side, and Newt noticed with curiosity that she held the knife she’d practiced with close to her chest. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, and paired with her heavy breathing, Newt figured she was completely asleep. 

An odd sensation fluttered in his chest and stomach as Newt considered Y/N’s sleeping face. It was the same feeling that had fizzled in his chest when he’d looked up at her as she laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time any of them had laughed as freely as she had. 

And he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked doing so – hiding her bright smile behind trembling hands, eyes narrowed but sparkling with joy. 

All because of him.

He rolled onto his back then, not wanting to give the thought anymore weight. There’s no point getting your hopes up, he reminded himself. But like a moth drawn to flame, Newt couldn’t help but tilt his head to gaze upon her peacefully sleeping. An ache carved itself deep in his heart. How had he not realised her growing up, changing? Being the only girl for a long time, of course he and the others found her pretty. But now that he looked at her – really looked at her, and wasn’t concerned with his life for just a split second – he realised just how beautiful she was. 

It was in her features, but also in her determination to be better for the group. It both hurt and impressed him when she asked for his help. He promised her she would never have to fight again, but things have changed drastically since the Maze.

It was in her ability to still find the joy in things, to still be able to laugh despite their situation.

It was how she believed in Thomas, in Aris, in the mountain people, even if she was scared. 

‘The rest of us can only wish to be as brave as you,’ he whispered into the night, a silent promise that he’d tell her that sometime. 

And with the fluttering in his chest finally easing into a calm warmth, he finally fell asleep.

~

Everything exploded with chaos as Y/N, Newt, Thomas, and Minho navigated their way through the Right Arm camp as guns fired and explosions went off. 

Teresa had betrayed them. Y/N couldn’t believe it when it was revealed in front of everyone, and she still couldn’t believe it as Minho pushed her head down, sheltering her from another explosion. Teresa truly believed WCKD could find a cure, but still at the expanse of Y/N and her friends’ pain. And just when Thomas was going to blow them all sky high, Jorge and Brenda had come in like a saving grace, and that’s when all hell broke loose.

‘This way!’ Thomas yelled over the din, beckoning them behind a weapons container.

However, Minho stopped suddenly and picked up a launcher. Keep going!’ Minho called over his shoulder as he shot at WCKD soldiers around him. ‘I’m right behind you!’

Thomas and Newt reached the container, but Y/N stopped and turned at the sound of a painful cry. ‘Minho!’ she cried as her friend fell, his body convulsing from a launcher shot. 

‘Y/N, no!’ Newt called after her, but she was already running back to Minho, grabbing at his jacket to drag him to safety. 

But Y/N was not strong like the boys, and certainly not strong enough to move Minho in any hurry. She looked up just in time to see a launcher fire at her, then her body felt like it was on fire. 

She was sure she was screaming, but she couldn’t hear anything as the electricity struck every nerve with a vicious bite. After what felt like an eternity of pain, she was granted a moment of peace as her vision went white, then in a flash was swamped by darkness.

Newt’s heart stopped when he saw Y/N shot. She convulsed as Minho had, then collapsed beside their friend unconscious. The second Y/N hit the ground, Newt found his voice again, feelings of anger and desperation clawing their way through every vein in him.

‘Y/N, no!’ His cry came out broken as he made to run to her, but a strong hand gripped the back of his jacket and pulled him back. 

‘No, boys,’ Vince shouted over the din, holding both Newt and Thomas back. 

‘Let me go!’ Newt protested, struggling against Vince, eyes darting between him and Y/N. ‘I need to help her! Y/N!’

But WCKD soldiers were already picking up Y/N and Minho’s unconscious bodies, dragging their feet through the red dirt and into a berg.

‘I’m sorry, son,’ Vince said, and Newt thought he sounded genuine. But that didn’t stop icy terror gripping tight on his heart as the doors began to close on Y/N, Minho, and other immunes from the Right Arm.

Thomas called for Minho, and Newt called for Y/N, but neither could do anything to help their friends as they were flown away. Back in WCKD’s clutches once again.

When the sun rose, the remaining survivors came out of hiding and began scrounging up supplies. They were moving on, Vince claiming there was nothing they could do but keep going with who and what they had left.

Newt couldn’t accept that, and neither could Thomas apparently, as he claimed he was going after Minho, Y/N and the others. Without hesitation or any further explanation, Newt was the first to sign up and join him.

And so, they went on a quest to rescuing Minho, Y/N, and as many immunes as possible. The train hijack was a huge success with immune numbers, but no Minho and no Y/N. Even so, Newt refused to accept that he’d never see either of them again. Even when they almost got killed by cranks. Even when he, Thomas, Brenda, Frypan, and Jorge were almost blown up by turret guns.

Even when he found out he was infected with the Flare.

He could feel it, his mind slowly slipping away as the Flare ate away at his sanity. He was usually level-headed and rational – it’s part of the reason he became second-in-command in the first place. Guilt and shame ate away at him as he sat on the rooftop of their hideout in the outskirts of the Last City, explaining to Thomas why he just bit his head off about being in love with Teresa.

Not that I’m one to talk, he thought as he rolled down as his sleeve, silence wrapping around him and Thomas comfortably. Newt could feel Thomas didn’t know what to say, and Newt didn’t like long silences so he broke it.

‘The crazy thing, though is…’ Newt started, a soft but sad scoff escaping him, ‘I’m not scared of dying. I used to be, back in the Maze. Because it felt like my friends were dying for no reason, without purpose. But…’ Newt looked over his shoulder, past Thomas, and to the peaking spires of the Last City. To where Y/N was being held somewhere.

‘I have something to die for now,’ Newt said, eyes never wavering from the spires.

Thomas came to sit beside Newt, a sad realisation drawing his brows and lips down. ‘You’re not just talking about Minho, are you?’ he asked.

It was how gentle and matter-of-fact Thomas spoke that had Newt’s chest tightening with fear and an immense pressure he’d been scared, until now, to acknowledge. His throat threatened to close on him as he spoke, rendering his words tight and uncontrolled. ‘I failed to protect her, Tommy,’ he managed to get out. ‘I promised I’d always protect her, and I didn’t.’ 

It surprised Newt how simultaneously hard and easy it was to speak about his feelings, and now that he had started, the words just flowed. 

’She’s just always been there, so I never saw it coming,’ Newt continued, a melancholic smile adorning his lips as he recalls the day he met you, how you helped him with his ankle. How, since then, you’ve always been by his side, growing with him, changing with him, supporting him and everyone else around you. 

’Saw what?’ Thomas asked.

‘I never saw that I could have a future after the Maze, after all of this,’ Newt explained. ‘That I would want a future… with Y/N.’ And with that, his tears finally spilled over, the pressure in his chest bursting into sobs that wracked his whole body. Newt was vaguely aware that Thomas was now holding him, and so he wrapped his arms tight around his friend, around his brother.

‘I love her, Tommy,’ Newt whispered over Thomas’ shoulder, his words obscured somewhat by his tears and holding back sobs. ‘And I’m scared I’ll never be able to tell her before I go.’

‘Hey,’ Thomas said, pushing Newt to arm’s length. He kept one hand on Newt’s shoulder and used his other to grip Newt’s neck, forcing their eyes to lock. ‘We’re going to find her – and Minho, and the other immunes. We’re going to get you that serum that helps with the Flare – as much of it as possible – and you’re going to tell her. You’re not dying. No one is dying. You hear me?’

No one could replace Alby, but the way Thomas was taking control of the situation reminded Newt of his old friend. How kind yet stern he could be. How hopeful yet pragmatic he was. It was something familiar that Newt was thankful for. He quickly calmed down, wiped away his tears and nodded at Thomas.

‘Good that,’ Thomas said, a small proud smile gracing his lips at his use of Newt’s common phrase. 

Newt couldn’t help a chuckle as well. ‘Good that, indeed,’ he agreed, and followed Thomas back inside the hideout to finalise their plan to get into the WCKD facility.

…and you’re going to tell her. You’re not dying. 

There was a nagging voice in the back of Newt’s head that was telling him not to believe Thomas. That Newt was going to die, or worse, turn into a crank and hurt his loved ones. That voice had followed him from the Maze, to the Scorch, and now the Last City. It was the voice that had driven him over the edge of the Maze walls all those years ago. But not anymore.

Newt had to keep hope, just as Y/N had taught him. He just had to be brave.

~

Y/N sat in the corner of her white-walled cell, hugging her knees to her chest as she rested her head on top. She’d sat there for hours, perhaps days. Y/N lost track of time after her first month in WCKD’s facility. 

There were no windows, and the lights never dimmed. She pressed her eyes into her knees in the hopes of downing out the incessant white light. Her eyes ached with sleep deprivation, but she refused to sleep. The nightmares were much worse to deal with, and they always came whenever she closed her eyes.

Images of her friends dying in the Maze and the Scorch, of Grievers chasing her, of her friends turning into cranks and attacking her. Images fed to her by WCKD. 

She knew they weren’t real, but she could never wake herself up in time to escape them. So, she stayed awake, knowing that she’ll have no choice but to face her nightmares when the doctors and scientists come to test on her again.

Y/N shivered at the thought of seeing another needle, of seeing her blood drained from her while WCKD turned her mind against her. When will it be enough? She might’ve lost track of time, but Y/N knew she’d been in the facility for a while now. If they hadn’t found anything by now, something told Y/N that nothing she gave would ever be enough. That included her life.

She knew Thomas and Newt would be dumb enough to come after her and Minho – that’s just the kind of people they were. Her heart ached at the thought that their efforts would be in vain. 

Y/N hadn’t seen Minho since they arrived, having been separated from each other and the other immunes. Something about how they were the most promising subjects, she overheard from a scientist one time. Y/N didn’t know if Minho was alive, and if he was, what condition he was in. 

But Minho was strong, the strongest of all the Gladers in Y/N’s opinion. If he was being tortured like her, he would be able to hold on. Y/N highly doubted she would last much longer.

The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you…

Y/N wasn’t sure if Newt knew she was actually awake that first night in the Scorch, but she’d heard him, his words so soft she thought she’d dreamt it at first. But it had been real; Newt thought she was brave.

She was too dehydrated to produce tears, but an ugly sob desperately tried to escape her aching chest. She bit her lips instead, hard enough to draw a little blood, and the sob died out, leaving her body quiet except for her mind.

I’m sorry Newt, but I am not brave.

Even so, Y/N refused to crumble to WCKD anymore. They’d taken everything from her. Her life, her memories, her loved ones, her friends. Even her hope – something she so naively believed no one could take from her. They would not take her dignity.

She raised her head at the sound of her cell door unlocking, blinking a few times as bright light flooded her vision once more. Two WCKD soldiers and two scientists stood by the door, and Y/N spied a gurney just behind them. 

One of the scientists – young male, maybe in his early twenties – stepped forward. ‘Time for more testing, Y/N,’ he said in a cold tone. But he had the sense to look sympathetic as his eyes roamed over Y/N as she stood up, showing how pale her S/C skin had become, how dark the circles beneath her eyes were, how the cargo pants and grey t-shirt hung off her in areas where she used to fill.

Y/N knew it was useless, but still she ran for the door, pushing past the scientists with ease despite her weakened state. However, she hit the soldiers like a brick wall, unable to fight against them as they restrained her arms and pressed her against the wall. The male scientist recovered quickly and injected her with a serum that made her drowsy enough that she wasn’t in control of her body. She was conscious as the soldiers strapped her to the gurney and the four of them wheeled her down corridor after corridor, and all she could do was watch fluorescent lights pass her by as she stared at the ceiling. 

Soon enough, she was in a familiar room: the test lab. 

‘It hasn’t been that long since we last tested her,’ the other scientist – a female, about the same age as her co-worker – said, her words laced with worry. ‘We put her under again, we risk losing her for good this time.’

‘I didn’t make the call,’ the male said as he continued to set up equipment around Y/N. ‘When Janson says he wants a cure, I don’t question him. Do you?’

The female didn’t answer, switching her focus to helping her co-worker. Y/N could slowly feel the serum wearing off – it was obviously only a light dose, the scientists knowing they’d put her under when they began testing. 

But just as they unstrapped her to move her to the nightmare simulator, the room shook, sending Y/N rolling to the ground as glass and steel broke around her. 

Sounds were muffled briefly and her vision blurred in and out of focus. She couldn’t hear what exactly the soldiers were shouting, but she saw them run out of the room alongside other soldiers. That just left her and the scientists. 

Y/N flexed her fingers, the serum completely wearing off. Before she could stand though, two hands roughly grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. ‘Come on, Y/N,’ the male scientist said, pushing her towards the machine. ‘Just one more trip under…’

Fear electrified Y/N’s every nerve. No, not again. With a desperate cry, she shoved the male into the utensils table, sending him and the tools scattering across the ground. Before he could get up, Y/N straddled his upper body and slammed his arms into the ground.

‘Get off me!’ he yelled, struggling violently beneath Y/N. He managed to twist them both around until she was the one pinned to the ground. Y/N struggled but to no avail. She was significantly weaker than she was when she was first captured and he knew that.

‘You little brat,’ he spat in her face. ‘Ungrateful, selfish immunes. Your duty is to save us all! You–’

He was cut off when he suddenly went slack, falling unconscious on top of Y/N. She scrambled out from underneath him, then looked up from the floor to find the female scientist with a syringe in her hand. She looked between her unconscious co-worker then Y/N, a scared and disbelieving expression morphing her delicate features. 

‘Go,’ the scientist finally said, her voice shaky, but the resolve in her eyes told Y/N that she wouldn’t chase after her. The room – no, the whole building – shook again, and when Y/N looked out the window, she realised why.

The city outside was on fire. Buildings crumbled, and Y/n could hear the screams and cries of civilians through the broken windows. The scientist wouldn’t chase her because there was no point. 

This was the end.

‘Go!’ The scientist insisted, and Y/N didn’t think twice. She picked herself up, ignoring the cuts and scraps of glass it caused her, and ran out of the room.

She ran into the corridor, ignoring the cries of soldiers and other scientists who recognised her as a subject. She didn’t know where she was going, but this was the most freedom she’d had in forever.

Then a thought came to her – Minho. She had to find him, he surely had to be alive. She would run through every floor if she had to to find him. So she ran, looking into every test lab, every storage closest, every break room on the floor. 

‘Minho!’ she cried, uncaring at this point if someone heard her. She just wanted to find him. She didn’t want to die without a familiar face with her. ‘Minho, where are you?’

She rounded a corner, right into the chest of a WCKD soldier. He was caught by surprise, giving Y/N an opportunity to slam him into the wall. It was like her fear was giving her a boost of strength, as she kneed him in the groin, sending him to the ground. He dropped the pistol he was holding, and she quickly picked it up and smacked the butt over the back of his head. He fell to the floor in one last scuffle and laid unmoving as Y/N sucked in deep breaths.

‘Y/N?’

She whirled around at the familiar call of her name, only to find three other people had entered the corridor. Thomas, Minho, and Newt. Her eyes scanned over them all, heart aching with an intense relief it threatened to crush her chest. ‘Guys?’ Her voice was hoarse with disuse and exhaustion. She was surprised she even had a voice after all her screaming.

Newt stepped forward, a relieved smile gracing his lips. ‘Yeah, love,’ he said, sounding on the verge of tears. ‘It’s us.’

Y/N’s first instinct was to run into his arms, the only place she’d felt since leaving the Maze. But she took a closer look at him. He was paler than when she last saw him, almost sickly with how dark the circles under his eyes were. Crank.

She pointed the pistol at her friends, causing them to raise their hands in shock. ‘Whoa, Y/N, it’s us!’ Thomas exclaimed.

‘No,’ she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. ‘How do I know I’m not in that simulator again? How do I know this isn’t just another test, another trial?’

‘What are you talking about, Y/N?’ Newt asked, worry crinkling his brow. 

’She doesn’t trust her mind,’ Minho said, as if in explanation. ‘Boy, they really did a number on her…’

‘Shut up!’ Y/N unlocked the safety and pointed the gun at Minho. ‘You’re just trying to trick me. Make me think everything is all right. But it’s just a lie. You’re not here. You’re not here…’

Newt stepped into the firing line. ‘We are here, love. I promise, we’re really here.’

‘Newt…’ Thomas warned, but Newt remained, eyes locked on Y/N’s.

Y/N couldn’t look away from Newt. He sounded so genuine, so much more real than previous simulations. But WCKD couldn’t be trusted, and they were wearing soldier uniforms…

Her hands shook but her voice was strong. ‘Prove it,’ she said. ’Tell me something only the real Newt would know.’

Newt swallowed thickly. ‘Okay, um… You cut yourself when you tried out being a Slicer and had to have Clint and Jeff fix you up. That’s when you thought being a Medjack would be a good idea.’

‘WCKD was watching us the whole time. They would’ve seen that,’ she countered, using both hands to grip the gun. 

‘Okay, okay,’ Newt said, looking away a moment to think of something else. When he finally looked back at her, he was calm once more, eyes genuine and sincere. ‘How about how I jumped off the walls of the Maze in an attempt to kill myself?’

The world around the four of them seemed to freeze, as if the world wasn’t collapsing outside. To Y/N’s knowledge, Newt had never told anyone the truth of what happened that day. It was the shocked and tragic expressions on both Minho and Thomas’ faces respectively that had Y/N loosening her grip on the gun slightly.

Newt took a small step closer, eyes never straying from her. ‘I had lost all hope of getting out of that bloody maze. So I did the one thing I could do to control the situation. But I failed.’ He stepped closer again. ‘I was embarrassed, ashamed. I was just a coward. But you healed me and told me something I will never forget. I have held onto it like a lifeline through the Maze, through the Scorch, and all the time I was looking for you.’

He took one final step towards her, unfazed at how the gun pressed hard against his chest. Now that he was so close, Y/N saw just how sick he was. He looked like the early stage victims of the Flare they’d seen in the decrepit city they’d lost Brenda and Thomas in temporarily. And while Y/N refused to believe Newt – her beloved, sweet Newt – was infected, his eyes were the same as always. Open, honest, and truthful.

‘The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you.’

It wasn’t the fact that he knew the exact words – again, WCKD had cameras everywhere in that Maze, they would’ve heard it. It was instead the emotion tied to the words. She felt them, felt the lifeline they’d created for him in his darkest moment. He wasn’t lying, and that meant he was real.

Finally, she allowed the sob to break free as she dropped the gun and threw her arms around Newt’s neck. He breathed out in relief, bringing her closer to his chest, face pressed into her H/C hair.

‘It’s really you,’ she whimpered, grasping tighter to the person she’s always been able to rely on. The person who has always protected her and brought out the best in her. Her closest friend, her safety net, her home. 

‘It is, love,’ he said into her hair, breathing her in deeply. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you before.’

‘It’s okay,’ she said, pulling away to look up at him then to the other two. ‘I can’t believe you came after us.’

‘I know right,’ Minho said, punching Thomas’ arm lightly. ‘Dumb shanks.’

‘You can berate us later,’ Thomas said, rubbing his arm. ‘Right now, we’ve got to get out of here before Lawrence brings down the whole city.’

Y/N went to ask what he meant but gripped onto Newt instead as the building shook again.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ Newt said, grabbing Y/N’s hand with one hand, and holding a launcher in the other. Together, the four of them ran to escape WCKD once and for all.

~

‘Brenda!’

Y/N didn’t care about the rain of bullets and walls of fire around her as she ran for the berg. After hearing Teresa’s broadcast, she needed to get the cure back to Newt fast. Leaving him was one of the hardest things she has had to do. He wasn’t in great condition, but Thomas insisted that he’d take care of Newt. But the medicine Thomas had given Brenda all those months ago didn’t just buy her time, it had cured her completely. It could do the same for Newt.

If she could make it in time.

‘Brenda!’ Y/N cried as she spotted her friend. ‘The cure! I need the cure!’

Brenda understood, immediately retrieving one of the extra capsules Mary had made from Thomas’ blood before WCKD raided the camp. ‘Here,’ she said, passing over the injector. 

‘Thanks!’ Y/N said, already sprinting back into the war zone before anyone could stop her. 

She could feel it, the exhaustion, the strain she was putting her body under. Underfed and under trained, she was struggling. But she refused to stop. Newt had come all this way to find her, risked his life to get her out of WCKD’s clutches when he could’ve been administered the temporary cure and been safe on the berg already. No, Y/N refused to let him die without trying.

Minho, Brenda, Frypan, and Gally – Y/N was still shocked about that revelation, but that was for another time to discuss - followed around her, covering her with guns and other weapons as they ran through the war zone.

After an eternity of running, the group rounded a corner to find a sight that made Y/N feel like she was back in the nightmare simulator. Newt was leaning over Thomas with a knife aimed at his chest.

‘Newt, no!’ Y/N cried, running towards the two boys without thought. 

Newt faced her at the call of his name, and she froze as she saw his black eyes. Dark veins branched over his skin and black blood dribbled from his chin. He was a full-blown crank now. 

He raced at her, snarling as he swung the knife at her throat. She ducked just in time and rolled away as he slammed the knife down where her neck was. She quickly jumped to her feet, and despite her fatigue, muscle memory took over her legs, then her hands. That first night in the Scorch came to mind, how her and Newt sparred. The injector was her knife, and Newt her proper opponent.

‘Newt, it’s me,’ she said, slipping into her Medjack demeanour – calm and steady. ‘It’s Y/N. Please, snap out of it for a moment so I can help you.’

She thought he would run at her again, but his brows crinkled with concern and he looked at the knife in his shaky hands. He looked back at her, and the voice he spoke with broke her heart. It was a mixture of his sweet accent and a gargled croak where blood clogged his throat. 

‘Y/N…’ he started. ‘Run away… Before… Before I kill you.’

The scene reminded her of the time he came in with his injured ankle. How desperate he was to fade into nothing because he was scared and ashamed of what he’d done. But just like then, she refused to be scared of him. 

Y/N shook her head. ‘I’m not leaving you, Newt,’ she said. ‘None of us will.’

Newt seemed to realise there were more people than just her and Thomas, turning around to see the others. The sight of them seemed to distress him, though, as he snarled angrily and charged at her. She shuffled back as he swung at her again and again, but as she stepped back again, she tripped on something. She fell onto her back, knocking the air out of her lungs. Before she could gather herself up, Newt was on her, straddling her similar to how he had Thomas pinned before. Newt raised the knife to bring down on her but was tackled by Thomas.

They rolled for a little, then scrambled to their feet as they fought once more. This was Y/N’s only chance. She pushed herself up and ran for the boys, injector at the ready. Newt was bringing the knife forward in a wide arc that would gut Thomas when Y/N threw herself in between them, slamming the injector into Newt’s arm.

Right as his drove the knife into her stomach.

‘Y/N!’ 

She wasn’t sure who called her name, because all she could focus on was Newt as some of the blackness in his eyes cleared and she saw some of his gorgeous brown eyes. She also felt her body finally giving up. As if it knew that this was the end. After all the torture and pain, she had stayed alive so long for one reason. To save Newt – the boy who had been there from the start. So much so she hadn’t realised until he wasn’t there how much he meant to her. How he’d wormed his way into her heart and consumed it without her even knowing. 

She gripped his hand that held the knife in her stomach, unfurled his fingers from the handle, and brought them to her chest where her heart was slowly slowing down. Her weak legs gave out, and she brought Newt down to his knees with her. She could’ve been imagining things, but she swore she saw recognition in his half-black eyes which made her smile as tears finally fell from her eyes.

‘It’s okay, Newt,’ she whispered. ‘It’s okay because… I love you.’

Her vision blurred and she finally let go of Newt as the both of them collapsed to the ground. Her breaths were short and sharp as the pain made itself known. A rush of feet thumped around her, and she had the slightest awareness that someone was moving her, but she didn’t care. She was finally at peace as darkness, at last, consumed her.

~

Y/N woke to the sound of waves rolling over on sand. The first thing she saw was grey canvas, then rolled her head around to see she was lying on a cot in a small tent with tables and medical supplies similar to how her Medjack hut looked. But she wasn’t alone.

‘Oh my God.’ Brenda’s face came into focus as the girl crouched by Y/N’s cot, disbelief and relief morphing her gentle features. ‘You’re awake! You’re finally awake!’

‘Ow,’ Y/N clasped at her head at the sudden loudness. ‘Could you lower your voice please?’

‘Yes, right, sorry,’ Brenda said, but her lips split in a bright smile as she helped Y/N sit up. ‘I’m just so happy you’re okay.’

‘What happened?’ Y/N asked, all she remembered was being stabbed then falling unconscious. She pulled up her fresh linen shirt to see her wound bandaged. ‘I thought I was done for.’

‘So did all of us,’ Brenda admitted, her tone sombre as she pulled up a seat beside the cot. ‘We got you to the berg as quickly as possible and Vince got you stable, but you just weren’t waking up. It’s been a week.’

‘A week?’ Y/N made to get up but sat back down as her wound pulled in an unpleasant way.

‘Whoa, where do you think you’re going?’ Brenda asked stabilising Y/N back in her bed. ‘You’ve just come out of a coma induced by physical and mental torture. Not to mention you were stabbed.’

‘I’m fine. Trust me, I’m trained… somewhat,’ Y/N said, this time able to swing her legs over the side of her cot. Brenda didn’t try and stop her, but she did have to help Y/N when she stood. ‘Now, where is Newt?’ Brenda didn’t answer right away, and tears threatened to pool in Y/N’s eyes at what her silence could mean. ‘Brenda… Is he… Is he alive?’

Brenda, again, didn’t answer, and her face didn’t give anything away either. Instead, she just held back the flap of the tent and motioned for Y/N to exit. Y/N took cautious steps forward as she followed Brenda into a completely new place that had her staring in awe.

It was a bustling camp where sleeping quarters and other spaces were mapped out by canvas strung up on carved wood pillars and posts. Y/N spied a kitchen area where she swore she heard Frypan laughing with some others. 

There was a gathering area where a giant stone stood in front of the seats. There were names carved into it, like what they used to do in the Glade. Y/N tried to make out if a certain blonde’s name was on it. She caught familiar names like Alby and Chuck, Clint and Jeff. 

‘Y/N?’ 

She swung around to find Brenda smiling as she was joined by Thomas, Minho, and Jorge. The three of them ran at her, arms wide open to capture her in a hug.

‘You crazy shank, Minho said, laughter on his lips. ‘Look who finally decided to join the living again.’

‘And here I thought I was the lazy slinthead for sleeping for so long,’ Thomas said jokingly, pulling Y/N in for another hug. ’I’m so relieved.’

‘Welcome back, hermana,’ Jorge said, a warm smile gracing his lips as he gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

‘Good to be back,’ Y/N replied, smiling at the three males. ‘What happened after I thought I’d died?’

Thomas went to reply, but Minho cut in. ‘We’ll explain later. Right now, I think you should go say hi to someone else.’

Confused, Y/N followed Minho’s gaze to Brenda, who stood atop a hill and was staring over the other side of it. Y/N quickly reached Brenda’s position and followed her gaze to a large garden that people were working on. But her breath caught at the sight of a familiar blond at the edge of the gardens talking and pointing in all directions to people.

‘Hey, Newt!’ Brenda called out, causing the blond to turn around and look up. At first, he saw Brenda, but his gaze soon fell on Y/N and his whole face changed into disbelief.

With the other gardeners forgotten, he started climbing up the hill, and Y/N couldn’t wait another moment so she started walking down the hill. 

They met in the middle, with Y/N standing at Newt’s height on the uphill. Neither said anything to begin with, both in disbelief and awe at who stood in front of them. Y/N looked over Newt, noting he still looked pale and somewhat sickly. But the dark veins were gone, as was the black blood and his black eyes. And the sun shone so brightly that his hair looked golden. It was as if he was never infected to begin with.

With a shaky hand, she reached out to rest her hand over his beating heart. ‘You’re alive,’ she whispered, too scared to voice it too loudly in case this was also another nightmare. 

But he proved her doubts wrong as he rested his own hand on top of hers. ‘I am,’ he said, and the usual warmth of his voice truly convinced her he was real. 

His face pinched suddenly with concern and guilt. ‘I’m so sorry, Y/N,’ he said, his hand tightening slightly over hers. ‘I hurt you. I almost…’

‘It’s okay,’ she interrupted, using her free hand to cradle is cheek and keep his eyes on her. ‘You didn’t. I am here, too. Looks like we both saved each other.’

To her relief Newt smiled. It was a genuine, happy smile, something she hadn’t seen on him in a long time. He nuzzled into her hand briefly, before bringing it down with his free hand so he held her hands between them. 

‘Before I passed out,’ he started, ‘I remember you saying something.’

‘Oh.’ A blush heated upon her cheeks, but she refused to look away from him. ‘Right. I did say something.’

She was trying to play it cool, but as soon as his deep brown eyes fixed on her, she knew he could see right through her. But he didn’t smile smugly, he didn’t tease. He actually looked scared as his jaw clenched, fighting to find the next words to speak. 

‘You said you love me,’ he finally said, words tight but hopeful. ‘Is that true?’

Y/N’s mouth dried up suddenly, constricted by all the things she wished to say but couldn’t say all at once. It’s not like she was scared, she just never thought she would live long enough to have a future, let alone one with love. One with Newt.

But she had – she had survived WCKD’s cruelty, she had survived the terrors of the old world, she had survived when so many of her friends hadn’t. And it was her duty to live her gift of a life to the fullest.

‘Yes,’ she finally said, and it was like breathing in fresh air after being underground for so long. ‘I love you, Newt. I don’t know when or how it happened, but I do. I love you.’ 

There was a second of hesitation, but then Newt broke out into a wide smile, and Y/N swore she saw tears brim in his eyes. He suddenly reached one hand up to cradle her neck as he pulled Y/N in for a sweet kiss that simultaneously knocked the air out of her and breathed new life into her. He held her neck and hip, and she pressed her hands against his chest, satisfied to feel his heart thundering beneath her hands. The heart that almost never beat again, the heart that had saved her over and over again. 

The kiss was short but was no less breath-taking, and when they pulled apart neither could stop the smiles on their faces. 

‘I love you, too,’ Newt said. ‘If that wasn’t already obvious.’

Y/N threw her head back in a hearty laugh. She slung her arms around Newt’s neck, a cheeky grin dancing across her lips. ‘I’m not so sure. Maybe we could try that again to make sure?’

‘Cheeky bugger,’ he murmured as he pressed his lips to hers again. Y/N sighed into the kiss, grasping the baby hairs at the base of his head. 

They pulled apart at the sound of their friends whooping and clapping atop the hill. Y/N felt her face erupt with embarrassed heat, to which Newt laughed as she ducked her head into his chest. 

‘All right, come on lovebirds!’ Minho called out. ‘Dinner’s almost ready.’

As they walked down out of sight, Y/N went to follow but was stopped by a loose grip on her wrist.

‘What is it?’ she asked as she turned back to Newt.

‘I just…’ Newt turned to the gardens below, then to the water, then to the sunset that bathed the whole camp in beautiful hues of orange, pink and purple. When he finally turned back to Y/N, she thought he couldn’t look any more handsome with that pure sunshine smile and sparkle in his eyes. ‘Thanks.’

‘For what?’ she asked.

‘For teaching me how to be brave,’ he answered.

Y/N gave his hand a squeeze. ‘You were always brave, Newt,’ she said. ‘It’s how I learned how to be brave in the first place.’

Newt squeezed her hand in return, then they walked hand in hand back up the hill and down to dinner to where their friend awaited them. 

Where the lives they never imagined they’d get a chance to live awaited them.

[blackbirdi]

Tired

Brief Description: You're tired and your boyfriend's making sure you're getting to sleep.

Point of View: 2nd Person

Word Count: 454

Character: Character not specified; Multifandom x Reader, whatever character you so desire x Reader

It was movie night, like every Friday night, and you and your boyfriend had just sat down to pick something to watch.

As your boyfriend was scrolling through your movie options, out of the corner of his eyes he saw you yawn. He smiles like a lovesick fool at how cute you look when tired.

Turning to you, he chuckles quietly asking, "Tired, baby?"

"Extremely," you reply in a soft voice, leaning against his side.

He throws an arm over your shoulders, pulling you onto his lap. You shift slightly, trying to find a comfortable position before you lean your head against his chest.

"What time did you go to bed last night?" he asks you softly, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

You shrug, answering, "I don't know."

He rolls his eyes affectionately at you, pressing his lips to your temple, which only causes you to melt into his embrace more.

"What was the last time you saw on the clock?" your boyfriend rephrases his question.

Your eyebrows furrow together in thought, your boyfriend's heart melts just a little bit more at the sight. God, you're gorgeous.

He never thought he could fall in love before, let alone this in love. Every little thing you've done and will continue to do since he met you has only made his heart beat stronger for you.

"One twenty ... something," you respond.

Your boyfriend's arms tighten around you, holding you closer as he asks in worry, "You went to bed that late?"

With a small giggle, you reply, "I went to bed like two hours after that."

He makes a sound between a sigh and a laugh, bringing you closer to his chest as he presses a series of kisses to your face.

"Baby, you need to sleep more," he gently scolds you, smiling down at you with that same lovesick smile.

"I know," you whisper back, nuzzling your face into his chest.

Getting a sudden idea, your boyfriend twists around on the couch, laying down across it as he settles you onto his chest.

"How about we play the movie as background noise so you can sleep?" he suggests, running his hand through your hair as you snuggle deeper into his chest.

"Sounds good," you mumble, yawning once more.

He kisses the top of your head, clicking on your favourite movie as his arms encircle your waist, keeping you close.

"I love you," he mutters, nuzzling his face into your hair, smiling at the smell of your shampoo.

God, he was whipped.

"I love you too, sweetheart," you mumble back, closing your eyes as the feeling of your boyfriend's finger running through her hair and the warmth of his embrace lulls you to sleep.

[graciepasty]

Newt. The Maze Runner (2014).

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(The Maze Runner) Imagine: He Protects You

It can be dangerous, especially for the only girl in the Glade.

Warnings: Guys being creeps in the Glade (nothing graphic), bullying, the Maze, danger.

. . .Thomas. . .

It’s a beautiful evening in the Glade.  You’re walking straight along the treeline on your way to run a final errand for Alby at the end of the day.  The sun is no longer visible, as it already descended far enough to be blocked by the walls.

Suddenly, you get the creeps.  It was hard to explain, but you feel goosebumps bloom along your skin, and you get the distinct feeling that you’re not alone.  The lovely glow of the bonfire is in your field of vision, but it’s so far away. It’s where most of the guys are gathered.  You can hear their distant whoops and hollers, reminding you that help is far away too.

A twig snaps, and your suspicions are confirmed.  There’s a figure following several feet behind you, lurking in the shadows cast from the trees above.

So, you veer off your original path to draw closer to the homestead where there would hopefully be someone who hadn’t made it to the bonfire yet.  Whoever it was must have caught on to what you were doing because they instantly pick up their pace.  You begin to hurry, increasing your speed so that they can’t catch you before you make it to what you hope will be a haven of safety.

Your heart is pounding, and your chest heaving with panicked breaths as you finally make it to the homestead.  

“Hello?” you call frantically.  

Suddenly, Thomas appears.  He sees your nervous state immediately, his hand taking yours.  But then his eyes lock onto something behind you, and he moves right past you to intercept your pursuer, effectively blocking them from you.

“What’s going on?” he demands.  Your follower is frozen to the spot, stuttering, failing miserably to offer up some sort of explanation.  Thomas steps forward, towering over the guy.  It’s plain to see that he is furious.  His forearms flex and his jaw is clenched.  You can hear his angry breaths as he speaks again.  “That’s what I thought.  Now, get out of here.”

As soon as the guy is gone, Thomas turns around to face you.  His close presence eases your fearful state when he steps into your space, filling your nose with his scent. “You okay?” he asks gently.

You manage a nod.

“We’re going to tell Alby right away.  This isn’t going to happen to you again.  Come here…” He carefully pulls you into his arms for an embrace, as if you’ll break apart if he’s too sudden. You bury your face in his chest, breathing a sigh of relief.  His heartbeat is close to your ears, like a lullaby.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

. . . Newt . . .

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The teasing, the taunts… The inability of certain individuals to just leave you alone.  Ever since you’d rejected him, Allan had made it his life’s mission to make your existence in the Glade all the more difficult.

Most recently, he had purposely bumped into you at lunchtime so that your meal was spilled all over your clothes and onto the ground.  Resources were limited in the Glade.  It was understood that wastefulness wouldn’t be tolerated.  You couldn’t afford to lose food or have clothing ruined.  Fortunately, your clothes would be fine after a wash, but the discarded food was a different story.

You dab at your tank top with a washcloth and pause to look at your reflection in the mirror.  It was all too easy to recall how quickly you’d reached your limit after Allan’s ridiculous ploy.  Your face is still wet from crying, eyes puffy, and lips parted as you took deep breaths.

There’s no use crying over spilled milk, you thought. Or in my case, spilled lunch.

After composing yourself, you decide it’s time to go back out there and face the music. You toss the damp rag aside and march determinedly out of the empty washroom.  To your surprise, you smack right into another individual coming in.  You instantly recognize the blonde hair and grumbles of complaint as he reels from the collision.

“Oi, shank, watch where you’re going-”  Newt quickly realizes it’s you and clamps his mouth shut, extending his hands to each of your shoulders to steady you gently.  He takes in the sight of your tear-stained face with his eyes showing clear concern.  “Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

“Oh, just… Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Newt looks far from convinced, and you lower your gaze.  He’s about to inquire further, but a familiar voice sounds from outside the washroom.

“Hey, _______!” Allan calls tauntingly, making you freeze up.  “How’s it going in there?”

Newt’s eyes instantly flash, and his face scrunches up anger.  You can hardly believe it when Allan continues.

“Sorry about my clumsiness earlier.  Maybe I can make it up to you.  Come on out before I go in there!”

Newt can’t contain himself anymore.  He turns on his heel and heads out of the washroom, and you follow behind just to see the look on Allan’s face when he realizes he’s been caught.

It is so worth it.  Allan’s stupid grin falls hard into a look of horror as the Second-in-Command approaches him furiously.  He doesn’t lay a hand on him, but he looks like he’s awfully close when he jabs a pointer finger in his direction.

“If I ever catch you bothering her, or even breathing in her general direction again, you’ll be a permanent Slopper for the rest of your time here in the Glade.  Do you understand, shank?”

Allan nods quickly, and doesn’t even wait to be dismissed.  He just hurries away, leaving you and Newt both standing there watching him flee.

“Coward,” he mumbles.  Then, Newt turns to you, resting a hand on your arm in a comforting gesture.  “I mean it, you know.  He’ll never bother you again.”

. . . Minho . . .

It’s hard not to panic when you glance up and can no longer see the sun above you. It’s the end of the day, and you’re nearly out of time.  The lightning pain that shoots through your ankle suddenly just becomes too much.  You lean against one of the ivy-covered walls and exhale.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it,” you say aloud, and the words weigh heavily on you.  You mentally scold yourself.  You can’t afford to think that way.  A Runner knows better.  With a wince, you continue limping on your way.  It’s not that the exit from the Maze isn’t close.  If memory serves you right (which it did), it wasn’t too far at all… but at your pace, it would take a lot of effort and some good luck to get you back in time.

Just when you are about to give up again, you hear footsteps rapidly approaching.  Your first thought is that perhaps your cowardly companion had a change of heart, but the footsteps didn’t match.

“Hello?” you call.

“_________!” Minho’s voice responds, and your heart swells with hope.  You aren’t out of the woods just yet, but your chances were much better with help. Minho nearly slides to a stop in front of you, instantly taking your arm and putting it around his broad shoulders to help you up.  There is no time to stop and compare notes, so you update him as he begins helping you back along the path.

“I sprained my ankle.” You hold onto Minho like he’s your lifeline as you push through the pain to keep up with his pace.  He’s right to go so fast.  Time is running out.

“Where’s Derek?” he asks with a grunt.

“He…he left me,” you gasp in pain.  “I think he was worried he wouldn’t make it out in time if he helped me.”

Minho goes quiet for a moment, and you can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves.  His eyes are focused straight ahead at the path, and he huffs.  Finally, he bites out a sarcastic comment. “I think it’s safe to say that he’s getting demoted from being a Runner.”

You keep talking, trying to distract the both of you from the familiar groan of the Maze walls shifting.  “Why did you come out here?”

“Because it was getting late in the day, and no one had seen you,” he pants.  “Usually, you check in with me right away.  I knew something had to be wrong.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

You continue limping with all your might toward the gate, feeling your heart jump, as the walls on either side begin their agonizingly slow crawl to a close.  There’s a small group standing on the other side, ushering you both out anxiously.  It was mostly Keepers, a select few who had been informed of the problem by Minho.

The two of you fell onto the green grass, gasping for breath, while the others surrounded you.  Alby knelt down beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder.  You just let yourself breathe, tears welling up in your eyes from relief.

“So it’s true?” Gally questioned, brows raised.  “Derek left her in there.” “Yes,” Minho replied, sitting up.  “And he will face the consequences.”  He looked over at you, finally catching his breath.  “You’re safe now.”

. . . Gally . . .

James had been haunting your steps for far too long.  He was always there, always hanging around, and sometimes showing up at the most alarming of instances.  What could be done about it?  It wasn’t as if he’d taken severe enough action to warrant disciplinary measures, you thought.  He was only ever seen staring at you, smirking, and just being an all-around jerk at times.

This time, he’d snatched your tools away from your working station while your back was turned. After uncovering a particularly tough old root, you turned around to get a spade to chop it up, only to see that your things were gone.

A few laughs caught your attention, and you glanced over to see James and one of his shadows standing there, staring at you from several feet away.  You couldn’t say for certain, but it seemed like they had something to do with your missing tools.

So, now you’re debating with yourself on the best course of action.  Do you ignore him and try to rustle up some extra tools from Newt or Zart?  Or do you bother to give this shank the attention he’s so desperately seeking to get your stuff back?

You don’t really like the latter option.  Frankly, James gives you the creeps. The last thing you want is to play his little game… But every minute that you spend deliberating is wasted time that could be put towards helping the Glade.

As much as you despise indulging him, you find yourself marching right over to his work area.  Both James and his minion are laughing in amusement, shoving each other at the sight of you approaching.

“Do you know where my tools went?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I might,” James replies cryptically.  “And I might be willing to strike up a bargain for that information.”

You fold your arms across your chest.  “What could you possibly want?”

“Ohh, I don’t know…Perhaps a kiss will do.”

You make a face as the disgust hits you.  “Seriously?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a ‘no’ for me.”  You wave off the concept, turning around.  You decided that your best bet is to find some spare tools.  This just wasn’t worth all the trouble.  Just as you start to leave, James comes running around to block you.

“Hey now, I didn’t say you could go.”

“Yeah, you might want to think about his offer,” James’ lackey said from behind you.  The two of them close in, and you clench your fists in preparation to fight.  If you make enough commotion, you’re sure that someone will notice and come to your aid.

You give him one last chance.  “Let me pass.”

“Come on, just one kiss.  Unless you want more than one after that-” to your relief, James is cut off by a new voice interjecting.

“What’s going on here?” The three of you turn to see Gally standing there, sweating from whatever project he was working on,with dirt and wood shavings on his clothes.  His expression looks expectant as he waits for an explanation, though his tall and bulky form makes him appear positively dangerous as he stares the two guys down with his hands resting on his hips.

“I, uh.. We…”  They break off in stutters and fumbled words.

“I’m fairly certain they have my tools,” you say, and Gally’s famous arched brows raise at the two guys in disbelief.

“Is that so?” As Gally walks forward, he plants his palms harshly on James’ shoulder, shoving him clear out of the way. James stumbles unceremoniously, almost falling straight into the grass.  Gally walks over to the bench and pauses.  He picks up a bundle of leather and tosses it to you, the tools rattling inside.  “Are those yours?”

You recognize it immediately.  “Yes, these are the ones.”

“You shanks had better never even speak to her again.  Understand?” He stares at each of them pointedly with all the authority of a Keeper, and they both nod.  With that, Gally walks up to you and ushers you away with a warm, gentle hand on your back protectively.

“Your timing was impeccable,” you say quietly.  “Thank you.”

“They won’t bother you again.  I’ll make sure of it.”

“I think you already have,” you chuckle.

[ellestinyposts]

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

[valentinetypewriter]

Ivy trio x Y/n incorrect quotes

thought I'd try branching out from only Marauders content so I hope you all like this

Masterlist

Newt: Y/n! What did I tell you about lying?

Y/n, looking down: ...That it only works on Thomas

—

Newt: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on Minho without him noticing?

Y/n: Hey, Minho, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny

Minho: *takes and swallows tracker* Pay up, loser

Newt: …

—

Y/n: Made you all playlists!

Y/n: Thomas, yours has only heavy metal, and is dark like your soul

Y/n: Newt, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression

Y/n: And Minho has the ABBA Gold album

—

Newt: Christmas is cancelled

Thomas: You can't cancel a holiday

Newt: Keep it up, Tommy, and you'll lose New Year's too

Thomas: What does that mean?

Newt: Y/n, take New Year's away from Thomas

—

Minho: Newt, you'll be working with Thomas and Y/n

Newt: Alright! My fantasy threesome!

Everyone else: *blank stares*

Newt: ...Of people on a team

—

Newt: I’m so happy two of my favourite people are getting along now

Minho: Uh, Y/n and Thomas are not getting along

Newt: They’re not trying to kill each other

Minho: You may have a point

—

Thomas: ARE YOU-

Y/n: Fucking

Thomas: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

Y/n Fucking

Thomas: IDIOT!

Minho: …What was that?

Y/n: Newt banned Thomas from swearing, so I’m helping him out

—

Minho: I think we're missing something

Newt: Teamwork?

Y/n: Cohesion?

Thomas: A general sense of what we’re doing?

[that-tmr-girl]

How TMR boys would react if you called them good boy

Aris

That's his biggest weakness

Turns red and whimpers

No matter what he becomes the submissive one at that moment

Gally

In the moment he pretends not to hear it

Neither of you say it, but you both know it pushes him over the edge

He'll think about it until the next time though and secretly hope you'll say it again

Minho

Calls you good girl back

Just starts praising you like never before

Newt

Moans louder at the name

Feels really proud that you called him that

Does whatever he did during that moment next time just to hear you say it again

Thomas

Asks you to say it again

He's a goner at that point

From then on, if you just whisper the name in public he doesn't know how to have a single capable thought

[m30wk1ttycat]

whenever thomas' hands are cold, you're there to warm them up again. you could be in public, eating breakfast with the rest of the gladers. or you could be in private just after leaving the shower, hair still sopping wet. anywhere, really. if he feels like his hands aren't warm enough, he's grasping at your clothes to get your attention so he can complain. he knows you'll listen and try to fix any problem he has, he does, which is why he keeps doing it over and over again. perhaps you could say that he was taking advantage of it.

it's a bonfire, the fire not hot enough to warm him up. he's wearing a sweater and a tight tank top underneath it. the sweater, albeit oversized, fails to cover his poor, red from the temperature fists. so, he reaches for you, like he always does. this time, his movements are less smooth, less coordinated, letting you know he's had a sip or two of the moonshine gally was handing out to the gladers.

"baby, c'mere," he pleads. and you do, gladly.

he tilts his head, puppy-eyed and flushed from the alcohol. or the close proximity. could be both, you supposed. "closer."

at this point, you're almost in his lap. almost. it's not enough for him, and he makes it clear with how he's grabbing your thighs and attempting to manhandle you into his lap with his clumsy, ice-cold hands. he's tipsy already, the two jars of moonshine he'd sipped affecting him more as the chilly night progresses, and you're well aware of that. thomas is - and forever will be - a lightweight. when it comes to alcohol, that is.

"help me out here," he murmurs, "please?"

you took his hands into your own and laid them flat against the bark of the rotting tree where you were sitting. for a while, you hover over his lap. thomas clicks his tongue, impatient and irritated - you couldn't tell if it was because of the lack of heat or because he thought you were teasing his poor, needy self that was irritating him. either way, his hands found themselves attaching to your hips so he could pull you down to sit on his lap.

"there," he announces, finally satisfied. as you look at the brunet, he's smiling, innocent and sweet, as he slips his freezing hands between your thighs. "thank you, angel."

[inlovewhithafairytale]

Maze Runner x Yn

[cruel-seduction]

The bond between a girl and her favorite fictional man? That shit’s toxic, but in the best way. It’s this messed-up, all-consuming obsession where she’ll go to war for a man who doesn’t even exist—like, literally fight someone for talking shit about him. She knows he’s a red flag with legs, but she’s ready to unpack his trauma and let him ruin her life, because he gets her in ways real guys never could. He’s everything she wants and everything she should probably stay the hell away from, but fuck it. It’s not about logic; it’s about the fantasy of someone who’s so broken, they’d burn the whole world down just to love her.

It’s painful, because she knows he’ll never be real, but that doesn’t stop her from falling harder every damn time she opens the book, watches the show, or reads another fanfic. And yeah, it hurts like hell, but it’s a beautiful kind of hurt. The kind that makes her want to scream and cry and laugh all at once.

Because no real guy could ever compare to that kind of perfectly fucked-up perfection. (And cause he will fuck you till you can't think straight)

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

could we get some gally headcannons please?👀

Whatever you want to write🩷

Thank you ❤️

gally in a relationship headcanons

masterlist

finally some gally love <3 idc what anyone says, his eyebrows are beautiful. NSFW BELOW.

the glade

enemies to lovers type shit. i'm talking y'all would go as far as avoiding meal times just to avoid seeing each other.

he'd always be staring at you—from across the glade, through the bonfire, literally all the time.

sooo many interactions would end with y'all being up in each other's faces and throwing petty insults.

you'd slap him if he says anything that borders on sexism. he eventually learns what's what.

'there's a thin line between love and hate'.

other gladers would get so annoyed by how much he talks about you. his favourite excuse: "she just pisses me off so much".

but there's no excuse for jerking off to the thought of you late at night.

honestly, he would probably realise he likes you when you scull his secret recipe drink in front of him.

he'd ignore his feelings until you're the only thing on his mind and it infuriates him so fucking much.

you would be arguing one time and then suddenly he kisses you. the kiss would be aggressive, heated, and most likely up against a tree or hut.

suprisingly, his confession after would be very vulnerable and tender.

everyone is confused the next day when you're practically glued to each other's sides

gally would be very protective and borderline possessive. he'd hate it whenever other guys stare or talk about you.

would probably end up in a fistfight over it.

he'd be a rough/passionate kisser.

he'd be very into thighs. his hands are big and calloused so he'd enjoy wrapping them around the plush of your thighs, kneading the soft warm skin in his hand.

despite his gruff and harsh demeanour, he would always hold/touch you with utmost delicateness, apart from heated moments.

guards you whenever you shower.

would break so many rules for you. reluctantly, of course.

y'all know the term 'sleeper build'? that's gally. he might not seem extremely muscly at first glance, but once he starts heavy-lifting and building, his arms are legit bulging.

your first time together wouldn't be too great, but once you practice more, it gets good. like, really good.

love love loves receiving but also thoroughly enjoys making you come and knowing only he can do it.

his favourite sex position would be holding you up against a wall. he likes feeling strong.

arguments would almost always end with him taking you into the forest and fucking you against a tree.

when he gets stung, he would probably fight through the changing to tell you he loves you one last time before getting speared. oop.

the last city

when y'all reunite, you'd both collapse to the floor in each other's arms kissing and crying which surprises you. the gally you knew was not a crier or favoured public affection.

gally changed a lot since you last saw him, emotionally and physically. he is taller, more muscular, and has a more level-headed and calmer attitude.

he'd be more emotionally available and willing to be open and vulnerable with you.

the first thing y'all do when you're alone is have sex. and he even fucks differently.

the better wording would be 'make love' instead of 'fuck'.

he is much more gentle and loving and focuses on your needs wayyy more than his own. he couldn't believe how aggressive he previously was with you, how selfish he was.

he would worship your body and show you how much you really mean to him.

you would make him leave his mask on one time while y'all fuck. its hot af.

would always be touching you—an arm wrapped around your waist, holding your hand, your thighs, etc.

the hugs, man. he'd literally pick you up and engulf you in his arms. all the time. this mf had a severe epiphany and realised his love language was touch.

would always be complimenting you. "you're beautiful, you know that?", "god, you're a fucking angel.", etc

wouldn't get mad if other guys talked to or stared at you anymore. he would probably joke about it with them instead.

well, maybe he would be a little aggressive.

"yeah, ha-ha, careful or i'll throw you to the cranks".

trusts you to be able to take care of yourself but is still a major worrier, especially during the war within the city.

after arriving at the safe haven, he would build a house for you. you would enjoy watching him because, well... muscles.

all in all, gally would be an extremely different man compared to the one you first met, making your love for him stronger than it had ever been.