#tmr!thomas x fem!reader

[underoospeterparker]

request: HII I HAVE AN IDEA FOR TMR THOMAS,MAYBE WHERE SHE HAS A LOT OF NIGHTMARES FROM SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED WHILE SHE WAS IN THE MAZE AND THOMAS ALWAYS HELPS HER THROUGH IT AND ITS JUST REALLY FLUFFY AND SWEET AND COMFORTING UP TO YOU LOVELY !!! 💖💖

for @coucoukevin

this prompt is also really similar to @bruisedboys's so you should check hers out <3

tmr!thomas x fem!reader

You suddenly shot out of bed, eyebrows creased and trying desperately to inhale as much air as you could. You were sweating and shivering at the same time, your entire body trembling with the force of your nightmare.

Burying your head between your knees, you thought of your possible options. You could either stay here, and try to sleep it off; something that would never work, or you could wake up your boyfriend. The latter was certainly more appealing, but he barely got enough sleep as it was. You didn't want to disturb him.

However, when it became clear that you would not be able to fall back asleep anytime soon, you decided against your earlier choice.

Slowly, you inched your way off your hammock, a failed attempt to not wake anyone up as you headed over to Thomas's. Frypan grumbled something that slightly resembled, "you good, (Y/N)?"

You responded with a shaky thumbs up and you slowly climbed into Thomas's makeshift bed. You winced when it made a squeaky noise, because your boyfriend was a light sleeper.

He noticed as soon as you moved, turning around to face you with nothing except a soft grunt escaping his mouth. "Honey," he said, his voice deep and raspy with sleep. "Another nightmare?"

When you nodded, eyes swelling with tears you had tried to hide from him, Thomas made a sympathetic pitying noise and pulled you into his arms, drawing pictures along your back as he stroked your hair, the movement soothing. He, above all people, knew exactly what it was like, and it was tough.

"You're okay," he whispered, when you started to shake violently against his chest, the tears back again full force. His heart split clean into two. "Everything's okay. You're safe, sweetheart."

You whimpered, a tiny, quiet sound and he cooed softly at you, his lips pressing kisses to your forehead, rocking you against his body, the movement calming and peaceful. "Shhh," he murmured, voice deep and sweet. "It's okay."

You lay there in his arms for what felt like minutes but was most likely hours until you fell asleep, head lolling against his chest. His arm splayed protectively over your abdomen, tracing circles on your stomach until he fell asleep himself, chin tucked against the top of your head.

[s0urw00lfsrants]

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.

[velvety-cherryy]

My Mess

He's got me fucked, in the best ways

A charming mess, flawed to perfection

Doesn't exist, but I'm ready to fight

Anyone who dares to say a word against him, day or night

I know it's fucked up, I'm out here dreaming

Of someone who's not real, but who cares?

He's mine on my terms, no messy reality

No awkward dates, no risking my heart's sanity

He's always there when I need him, a constant high

I'm never disappointed, just flying, never saying goodbye

Maybe I'm a little crazy, but I've never felt more alive

He's my mindfuck, my guilty pleasure, my forever thrill ride

(For every girl who is in love with fictional men)

[bruisedboys]

please write for tmr!thomas i beg of you

tmr!thomas x reader | established relationship, fluff and hurt/comfort, 1k words (set in the scorch trials!)

you, thomas and your friends find sanctuary from the scorch with the right arm. unfortunately, they don’t provide any sanctuary from nightmares.

“Are you awake?”

Thomas feels you shift under his arm. You’re curled into his side, arm slung over his chest and thigh pressed to his. He hums.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” he murmurs back. “What’s up?”

He feels your hand glide across his stomach and your fingers curl around his hip. It makes him shiver.

“Nothing,” you hum. “Just thinking.”

Thomas huffs. Typical you, keeping yourself awake for no good reason. “Stop thinking and go to sleep then, sweetheart. You need rest.”

You muffle a giggle in his shirt. It warms his chest all the way through. “You’re mean.”

“And you’re keeping me up,” Thomas says back, only half serious. “Go to sleep.”

Eventually you do as he says. These days Thomas always always has waits for you to fall asleep first before letting himself drift off. It makes him feel better about himself. He does everything in his power to make sure you’re safe and healthy and happy, but it’s hard when you’re on your own in a sick world, running from a government organisation that wants you for your blood.

The Scorch has been unforgiving, but you’ve braved through like you always do, never once complaining, always making sure the rest of the group are okay. Thomas thinks someone as lovely as you doesn’t deserve to live in a world like this. It’s half the reason he’s as determined as he is the find somewhere safe.

Well, you’ve found sanctuary for now, at least, with the Right Arm. You and Thomas are sharing a tent with the rest of the group — Minho, Newt, Frypan — none of whom seem to be willing to seperate from each other, despite the spare tents the Right Arm offers. It speaks volumes about where the real safety net is.

Eventually Thomas falls asleep too. He’s not sure how long he sleeps until he’s woken by you. You don’t mean to wake him, he thinks, but he’s a bad sleeper at the best of times, and he’s got a sixth sense for this kind of thing, anyway.

He blinks his eyes open sluggishly. It’s dark, but the campfire still flickers outside the tent, so he can just make out your figure. You’re sitting up straight, stiff as a board. Panic slices through his heart like a cold knife.

“Y/N?” He murmurs. He finds your thigh under the sleeping bag you’re sharing and braces his hand on it to help him sit up. “Baby, are you okay?”

Thomas’ eyes slowly adjust to the light until he realises, with a pang in his chest, that you’re crying. Thankfully, you don’t seem to be in any immediate danger. Everyone else is still fast asleep, and everything’s quiet outside the tent. Still, he doesn’t like the way your shoulders are shaking.

“Sorry,” you gasp. You’re holding your face in two clammy hands, fingers cruel where you scrub at your tears. “Didn’t mean to wake you. I just—“

“Bad dream?” Thomas asks gently. He can guess well enough. He’s had his fair share, and while he’s not an expert on the human mind or anything, he can see that you’re pretty shaken up.

You nod. Tears splash down your front. “Yeah,” you mumble. “Sorry.”

Thomas frowns at you as he brings his hand to your shoulder.

“Stop apologising,” he says, squeezing you gently. His drags his thumb across your collarbone, soothing. He doesnt want to think about what you’d’ve done if he hadn’t woken up. Would you have suffered all by yourself? The thought alone feels like a bullet to his heart. “It’s okay, babe, really. Can I give you a hug?”

You nod viciously. Thomas makes a pitying sound from deep in his chest and wraps you up in a hug, sliding his hand to the nape of your neck to encourage your head over his shoulder. You’re shaking like a leaf, your cheek damp and warm where it presses to his neck.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs to you. It’s all he can say, really. He can’t tell you it wasn’t real, because the chances that you had dreamed about something very real, and equally horrifying, are high. He strokes your hair, feeling a little useless but a lot sorry. “I’ve got you.”

Somebody stirs across the tent. Thomas watches over your shoulder as that somebody sits up.

“Thomas?” It’s Newt. His voice is raspy with sleep but he sounds concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Thomas feels something akin to a rush of gratitude for his empathetic friend. If anything was ever to happen to Thomas, he at least knows for certain Newt would take care of you.

“Yeah, Newt,” he says. “Everything’s fine. We’re good. Just a nightmare, I’ve got it.”

Newt hums and his lanky figure drops back to the tent floor. Meanwhile you’re sniffling over Thomas’ shoulder, your hands screwed into the back of his shirt.

Thomas can’t be sure if Newt’s still awake, but he doesn’t really care if his friend hears him or not. He’s past being embarrassed about how much he cares for you. Thomas draws back and takes your face in his hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks you.

“Not really,” you whisper back. Your anguished tone breaks Thomas’ heart clean in two.

“Okay. That’s alright,” Thomas tells you, as kind as he can when he’s up to his ears with worry. He swipes his thumbs over your cheeks, rubbing away your hot tears. He gives you a reassuring smile. “Do you want some water?”

You nod. Thomas reaches behind him to pull his metal flask from a meagre pile of supplies. He unscrews the lid and encourages the bottle into your hands.

“Here, babe,” he says softly. “It’ll help.”

He steadies your shaking hands with his own and helps you have a few gulps of water. When he returns the bottle to it’s place you’ve calmed significantly. Your cheeks are still damp and sticky but your tears have ebbed, at least.

Thomas smiles at you. He’s sure he looks sick with concern but he tries not to let it show, thumbing your cheek with as much tenderness as he can manage. “Let’s lie down, yeah? C’mon, sweetheart.”

He tugs you down with him. You slump onto his chest and push your hand under his shirt. You’re really warm, but it gives him goosebumps anyway.

“You’re safe with me,” he promises. It’s a promise he doesn’t plan on breaking, ever. He rubs your back. Big, rough sweeps that have you going lax in his arms almost instantaneously. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I promise.”

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, and feel free to send more reqs for thomas!

[elioas-diel]

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀; 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ an upcoming gally x fem!reader fic || TEASER

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ !𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! :: i DO NOT own anything - except the character y/n in this specific story as well as ORIGINAL subplots i have come up with that, might appear during the main plot; all credits and rights go to James Dashner’s fabulous triology of TMR!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: most of the lore will be book focused whilst character descriptions will be based on the movie (so spoilers will be evident throughout the fic), violence will be evident in later chapters, major character death in later chapters - i’ll update warnings for later chapters

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 - 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

-୨୧-

She came a year after he did, the gladers just establishing a steady routine. Change was her, and he didn’t take it easy.

Y/n and Gally bickering wasn’t an unfamiliar sight to the glade - in fact it was abnormal to not see them arguing over something dumb.

From the moment he had seen her confused face it was there, that hatred he had for her - one that wasn’t just driven by the disruption she had caused but it seemed to run deeper than the either knew.

He took note of those feelings but always kept it to himself, his character too stubborn to speak out or have the rivalry go deeper than meaningless annoyance, frustration and competition. Afraid with what he’d find out.

Though, that doesn’t mean his bubbling suspicion for Y/n didn’t eat him alive. That nagging feeling that made him go crazy every time he saw her - something, a voice? - that told him he knew her, but from where?

It couldn’t have been more the opposite for her. She couldn’t have cared less for him, Y/n had set her mind on survival; that worry being on the top of her list.

The psychological mechanics embedded in our bodies from birth, one called the fight or flight response system had been surging through her the moment she had woken up in a moving chain-mail box.

Dangling thousands of feet above pure darkness.

When the warmth of what felt like she remembered to be sun met her features, he had jumped in and clouded it.

His sharp blue eyes observing her weirdly, grazing her figure like she was some abnormal creature - it didn’t help but make her even more terrified than she was puzzled.

She didn’t hate him, didn’t feel some sort of connection, but with his fixed “unwelcoming-snarky,” attitude towards her, she felt the need to know why it was so.

They were bio-hazards sewn on to themselves - the death of each other and she fell into a trap that was known as Gally.

Love, trust and relationships were a dangerous thing, especially in a place where nothing was certain.

Peace in the Glade had its run. Peace between the two of them had its fun.

Everything had never been as it seemed and it was all about to change a year later.

After-all, uncertainty and certainty were two sides of the same coin.

“Bring bloodshed on them,” - ??

-୨୧-

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀; 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ an upcoming gally x fem!reader fic || OFFICIAL TEASER

˚₊· if you’re interested, join the tag-list! (by shooting me an ask in my request box) so you can stay updated on this new fic of mine!!

“Let the games begin,” - ??

[loveharlow]

Happy Angstober my lil' monsters! This is my first ever event and I am too excited. It's only fifteen days long because I cannot pump out thirty-one full fics but there are five little blurbs included too. This mainly focuses on the OBX guys with a couple of special appearances.

My inbox is CLOSED for requests for the duration of this event (Oct. 1st - Oct. 30th), which means a new post every 2 days (hopefully).

Everything written for this event can be found under the hashtag #angstober23', as well as in my masterlist for each character shortly after the event is over.

general warnings ‧₊˚ smut, dark themes, detailed warnings will be added to each work

CANDY BARS !

Day 1 (Oct. 1st) — Til Death (Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Day 2 (Oct. 3rd) — Dancing With Your Ghost (JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader)

Day 3 (Oct. 5th)— Company Policy (Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Day 4 (Oct. 9th) — Sinemies (Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Day 5 (Oct. 15th) — Live Bait (Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Day 6 (Oct. 18th) — Somebody's Watching Me (JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader)

Day 7 (Oct. 19th) — Rock-a-bye, Baby (Thomas (TMR) x Fem!Reader)

Day 8 (Oct. 21th) — Love Me Back (Pope Heyward x Fem!Reader)

Day 9 (Oct. 23th) — Like A Fiddle (Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader)

Day 10 (Oct. 25th) — On Your Hands (Pope Heyward x Fem!Reader)

FUN SIZE TREATS !

Feeding Grounds (Oct. 26th) — Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Countdown (Oct. 27th) — JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

It's Not You (Oct. 28th) — JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

You Should Go (Oct. 29th) — Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Ghost of You (Oct. 30th) — Thomas (TMR) x Fem!Reader

General taglist; @livlaughquinn 

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover 

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

[la-gotica-fantasma]

Wedding Crashed

part one ~ part two ~ part three

media - The Maze Runner

relationships - Thomas x Single Mom Fem!Reader

characters - Thomas / Sonya / Newt

setting - Modern AU

word count - 2k

contains - Vague Threats / Wedding / Knife / Accidental Theft / Accidental Kidnapping

summary - Single mother [Name] just wanted to find a match, but on a first date with someone, everything went awry when an unknown man snatched her away.

authors notes - First Thomas fic </3

The man's wide shoulders leaned with him as he hunched over the diner table, his black suit scrunching together with his face. "So, when am I going to meet your child?"

My head shot back, a disgusted look adorning my face. "What?"

"Your kid?" he said, like it should have been obvious to me why. His bulbous hand wrapped around the beer stein, struggling to lift it up to his lips.

"Why do you want to meet my child?" I glared, bringing my napkin to my face and wiping off leftover sauce to occupy myself as he attempted to pull himself out of this situation. "This is a first date."

The mug clacked against the table, his anger seeping through the gesture. "I didn't know there was anything wrong with asking to meet a lady's little lady," he said in an offended tone, scoffing and going to stand.

"Fucking pedo," I whispered, making for a stand myself.

I leaned over the table, reaching for my purse. "The fuck did you just say about me?" he spat from directly behind me.

I spun around, my purse in my grasp and ready to collide with the side of his sharp chin. "I called you a fucking pedophile,"

With eyes narrowing and brows furrowing, he went to lift his hand before a softer hand gently landed on my shoulder. "Are you all ready for the checks?" he asked with a smile, his eyes widening with warning as he looked at me, handing a single black folder to the man. "If I may, I can check you out over here." he beamed, gesturing to the small waiting stand.

We walked to the stand, his shoulder bumping with mine. "What was that about," I asked through the side of my teeth, careful not to draw any more attention than necessary.

He didn't answer, continuing to walk us out of the restaurant entirely.

"Can you just walk out of work like that?" I asked, turning myself entirely to the loosely suited man. "And I didn't even pay."

"Not my problem, I don't work here." he responded nonchalantly, fixing his bow-tie. "How do I look?" he asked.

"What?" I questioned with a face of pure confusion, my mouth slightly agape. "How'd you get the tab then?"

"I pocketed it off of some waitress," he excused, "so do I look good or not?"

"Uhh, yeah, fine," I rushed out, bringing my hand to my forehead, checking to see if this was all a fever dream: It wasn't. "So what is happening?"

"Actually we better get a move on it, that man will probably be out here soon too." he said, lightly grabbing my wrist and dragging it down the sidewalk. "Oh yeah, you asked me what's happening,"

"Yeah, I did," I muttered, harshly tugging my wrist out of his grasp.

"Not sure. But I have to be at a wedding in..." — He pulled his sleeve up, ogling at his watch. — "In about thirty minutes?" he said in a slight confused tone, his smile only a remnant. "Also I don't have a date. Are you free?" he asked, pointing a finger gun at me with a hopeful smile on his lips.

Part of me wanted to say 'What the hell, why not?', but the other part was slightly smarter than that.

"This feels like a kidnapping," I stated with a blank face, gesturing my open palm toward his Prius.

"I wasn't aware you were a child. Fuck,"

I shook my head rapidly, "No, no, I'm not a kid—Fine—This feels like trafficking. That better?"

"Not by much, no, but better than you being a kid." he grinned after he said it, circling around to the other side of the car, him being on the street, leaning over the roof of the car. "So are you free?"

My brain must have short-circuited because I blankly stared at him, silent and blinking, for quite a while before I heard the ring of the restaurant door opening and closing. Turning my gaze, I saw my date exiting the building. His head swung the opposite direction of me first, but I knew he was going to look both ways.

"Yeah, you know what, fuck it." I shrugged, adrenaline washing down my body in waves as I opened the door and tucked myself into the seat beside him.

"I didn't ask your name," the man said, pressing the ignition to hear the engine rev.

"You didn't care to share yours, kidnapper." I turned my head and smiled, placing my hands in one another on my lap.

He looked to me, looked back forward, and then looked to me once more. "Oh yeah, uh, sorry—it's Thomas," he nodded, swallowing down his embarrassment. "is it too hot in here or am I just nervous?"

"Well, considering the AC isn't on, probably both." I laughed, pointing to the AC. "And it's [Name]."

"Hm?" he said, fiddling with the AC until a breeze washed over the entire car.

"My name, it's [Name]." I said, twisting my fingers together awkwardly.

A buzzing sound emitted from my purse. "Can I answer this?" I asked, grabbing my phone out of the front pocket.

"Sure," he nodded, paying close attention to the winding roads ahead.

With my phone pressed to my ear, all I could hear was a high pitched squeal, followed quickly by, "How'd it go! Was he nice? Did he hold the door open for you? Did he pay? Ah! I'm just so excited!" Sonya's voice screeched from excitement through the speaker.

"No, none of that. Actually it was so bad I had to get kidnapped by some rando." I half-joked, a large smile gracing my face as I looked at Thomas.

Thomas's face washed pale. "I thought we agreed it was trafficking," he half-complained, taking a sharp turn.

Silence overtook for just an instant. "What?" Sonya asked, all amusement in her voice was stolen. "Who is that?"

I took the phone from my ear, turning it to speaker and holding it near the console so we could both hear her.

"Yeah, who are you, anyway?" I prodded in a joking manner.

He leaned slightly to the phone. "Well, I'm Thomas, I'm on the way to a wedding, I had no date as of five minutes ago but I do now, and I did track in high school." he summed up. "That's about all there is to me. So do I have your blessing..."

"Sonya," I whispered to him.

He continued with a nod, "Sonya—to take your best friend to a wedding as my date?"

"[Name]," she said in a calm reprimanding tone. "Are you fucking with me?"

I giggled as I said no, my smile so bright it could win a fight against the sun.

"You're absolutely sure that you aren't yanking my dick?" she said in a questionable tone. "You're actually in a strangers car on the way to a wedding of two people you have never met?"

"Seems so," I said, giving a nod although she couldn't see it.

"Hmph," she complained, leaving room for it to sound like she allowed it. "Fine, you may take my darling to the ball." she agreed.

I took her off of speaker, bringing her back up to my ear. "Okay you're off speaker." I giggled with a smile.

"[Name], I want you to be completely honest with me," she said slowly. "are you fucking drunk?" she yelled.

"No!" I declined, "No, no, no!"

"Are you sure? This really isn't like you,"

"I know, when I get home, I am telling you everything!" I smiled into the microphone.

"If you get home," she corrected, disappointment apparent in her soft voice.

I blew air slimly through a small gap in between my lips, almost whistling. "I love you too, buh bye." I said with an obvious smile in my voice, hanging up the phone before I could hear another complaint.

Turning to Thomas, my smile slipped off my face. "Try anything and you'll go home eyeless." I threatened, lifting the skirt of my silk, black dress to show the knife in my garter.

He nodded, "Yes ma'am." he said, giving a small salute.

"I think this is the weirdest thing I've ever done," I admitted, wiping my dress with the palms of my hands to distract myself.

"Can't be, I literally walked in the middle of you trying to fight a middle aged, balding, exercise freak man." Thomas declined, pulling into a large parking lot that was three-quarters of the way filled already. "Ready to show 'em what you've got, hot stuff?"

"Never call me that again." I warned with a flat voice, waving at my thigh where the knife was hidden.

"Yes ma'am," he repeated, turning out of the car and walking around to open the door for me, only to find I was already out.

"Are you ready?" I asked, looking him up and down warily. His unbuttoned blazer, his tucked collar.

"Yeah," he smiled, giving me a thumbs up.

I shot him an unimpressed look. "You're sadly mistaken."

Bringing my hand to his jacket, I buttoned each and every button, untucking the collar and lying it flat against the blazer. "Now you're ready, lady's man."

"Great. Now, if anyone asks: We've been together for three years." he whispered, raising his arm and waving to someone across the parking lot with a comical smile on their face.

"You are such an odd guy," I groaned, intertwining our arms to sell the allusion.

"You agreed." he shrugged, leading us through the parked cars.

I sighed, "And I don't completely regret it, yet."

He turned his head, giving my a smile. Leaning close to my ear as we approached a blonde-headed boy, Thomas whispered, "Thank you, by the way."

"My pleasure," I whispered back, a grin on my face as I looked at him.

"Hi, Newt!" Thomas shouted happily, pulling Newt into a bear hug. "This is [Name], my girlfriend of about..." he stopped, bringing a finger to his chin in faux thought. "How many years now, sweetie?"

Ignoring the pet-name, I responded, "Three or so," I gave a smile to Newt, a small nod to go with it.

Newt's face flattened, "Who is this, Tommy?" he asked Thomas completely, almost ignoring my existence.

"Okay well," Thomas sighed, "that's a very long time, and I think we are all running late."

Newt eyed me up and down, no noticeable judgement lacing his stare. "Who are you?" he asked, almost concerned.

"[Name], a single mother that your friend found in a bar three milliseconds before I punched a grown man."

Giving a foreboding, yet understanding, expression, Newt continued, "Alright then."

Thomas practically spun on his heel to me. "Mother?" he scream-whispered, shaking his hands about.

"Single," I repeated, shaking my own hands sarcastically.

His expression stayed worried, his eyebrows stuck in the same flying position. "Where's the kid?"

"With Sonya,"

Newt stopped abruptly. "Sonya? How do you know Lizzy?" he asked, giving me a strange look.

"She's my best friend. How do you know Sonya?"

"Oh," Newt said in surprise and understanding, "You're that [Name]!" he said smiling, "I'm her brother, I've heard a surprising amount about you, actually!"

My mouth fell agape, "That's splendid, buddy. But let's get on with the wedding."

When I get home, Sonya's getting a beat-down.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.◯ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hi, suga !! Thank you for reading :} This is my first Thomas fic and I'm not quite sure how it will level out with readers, but I definitely enjoyed writing this. If any of you want a part two, please tell me and I will immediately begin writing it <3

- Morbid affection, Tipsy ᓚᘏᗢ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.◯ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[bells-stories]

MINHO x READER

-he finds out you’ve taken a liking to other boys in the maze and doesn’t mind one bit.

-Snippet from PROJECT GRIEVER (wattpad: bells_stories)

"I remember something." I say and I looked at him. He didn’t seem too shocked and I continue. "I remember a boy. Brunette. Brown eyes. His name is, was, Thomas. I remember the way he made me feel, I remember our love but then last night before I did...." I trailed off because some part of me didn't want to tell Minho because it was afraid that then he would't want me afterwards but I had to. Gally might say he's okay with it but the others deserve to know. "I kissed gally." I say and I looked to Minho for a response. But there wasn't none, his face was passive as if contemplating and he spoke.

"So you feel guilty." He says and I nod. "It's okay y/n how could you have known."

"I know but I still feel like a shit person. There's someone out there that I loved deeply and now I'm starting something new with someone else it feels wrong regardless. Besides there is one other thing that adds to this guilt. I don't just like Gally." I say and Minho sits upright on his bed.

"What do you mean?" He says coming closer to me.

"I mean I feel something for you too, and for Newt." I say and immediately feel ashamed. I couldn't even look into Minho's eyes. He places a hand on my shoulder and we just stay like that for a while both of us think of what to say. "I'm sorry." I mumbled. "I shouldn't have said anything." I say and for the first time I look up at him and he smiles.

"No. I'm flattered. I mean of course you couldn't resist me." He says and I push him.

"Fuck you." I say laughing. I rolled my eyes and then his face got serious.

"You're still a greenie. Been here what? Five days? Six? If you want to mess around then that's on you. I would get it. I do get it. And I'm serious if you're interested in me just know the feeling's mutal and you can act on them anytime." He says and smiles brightly and I feel a small weight lifted off of me.

"So I'm not the asshole?"

"No assholery detected and don't feel guilty. At least for me. I'm glad you chose me even if it is with some other shanks. However, you should tell the others."

"Gally knows, not about the Thomas part because that happened after he felt. But he knows. Says it's cool too."

"Now that's a shocker I would've expected him to be jealous."

"What can I say? I change people." I say sarcastically and we laugh.

"And Newt?"

"He knows nothing. I just, I fear losing him but I know its wrong not to tell him so i'll do it today."

"Good. Now that that is out of the way can you sleep?"

"Maybe." I say looking at him. He moves aside and pats the space next to him. His bed is slightly larger than mine but I guess that's what comes with the keeper position. Perks. I lay down in the spot he designated for me and he wraps his arms around me and I lay on my chest. Eventually I fell asleep to the beating of his heart.

Read more here👇

[adhdduckie]

the maze runner masterlist !!

full masterlist (multi-fandom)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Maze Runner-

minho

i. he's no good for you- coming soon; minho x fem!cook!reader.

↪you're the only girl in the glade, and a certain keeper has caught your eye, with boys left and right keening for your attention, minho's true feelings are exposed when he believes you love someone else.

thomas

crickets.....

newt

since he's gay i'll only write masc! reader or male! reader.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

requests are open!!

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

FUCK YOU, don't leave me

Part Four: Better Terms (Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Five)

Special Thanks to @gallyismylittlesilly for reminding me to keep writing this lol :)

Gally x Fem!Reader NSFW

Your purely-sexual relationship with Gally is threatening to blossom into something all-too-terrifyingly real. Your unsaid feelings for each other create an awkward tension that breaks abruptly one night in a very unexpected way. Is this the end of your relationship with Gally? Or just the beginning?

Genre: enemies to lovers, lowkey angst at the end, smut scenes sprinkled throughout

Word Count: 4.4K Read Time: 14 Mins

Warnings & Info: protected p in v sex, blowjob, Gally praise kink???kinda???, nonessential OC’s, movie versions, takes place in TMR with thomas but kind of in a vacuum the plot doesn’t move forward Gally's thoughts in green, Y/N's thoughts in blue

Authors Note: I KNOW I SAID THIS WAS GONNA BE THE LAST PART BUT IT’S ACTUALLY NOT THERE’S GONNA BE ONE MORE LOL. I picked a different format for these last two parts and I hope you like it. I cannot believe the amount of support I’ve gotten on this, I truly appreciate all of you so much. Thanks for waiting so patiently as I abandoned and then re-found this fic:)

–Prologue–

The time has come. That dreaded moment nobody who drank too much last night wants to reach. But it’s here:

The morning after. 

The time when the sun seems too bright, the world seems too loud and everything is moving too fast for you to collect the disjointed memories of the events that led you to the state you’re in now. You’re sweaty, shaky, have a pounding headache and a very weak stomach that is violently threatening to empty its contents, if it hasn’t already. 

This is usually around the time that you start swearing to yourself, your friends, and anyone that will listen that you’re “never drinking again”. This is almost always a lie. 

The version of you that downs shots like they’re water has never met the version of you that is bent over a toilet, feeling those shots come back up, burning your throat just as much the second time as they did the first. The drunk version of you thinks the hungover version of you is a buzzkill and the hungover version of you thinks the drunk version of you is a maniac. But they’ll never meet, so they’ll never reconcile their differences, and you’ll cycle between them continuously until you get older or more boring or die.

The hungover version of you and Gally are doing about as well as you’d expect them too. The former is currently ducking her head behind a bush next to the Med-hut to vomit up bile for the third time this morning and the latter is swaying unpleasantly on the construction site of a new hut that’s going up, silently willing the sun to stop beating down and the volume of his crew’s voices to silence. It is the opposite versions of these two people that have set into motion a chain of events that will lead to a conclusion neither of them would be able to fathom at this moment. 

In exactly 49 days starting from today, Gally will confess his feelings to you. And in exactly 49 days and several minutes starting from today, you will confess yours back.

How exactly does this happen? The versions of you and Gally that exist today still despise each other. 50 days hardly seems like an appropriate turnaround time to go from hatred to fondness. In fact when you look back on the events of this story, the timeline befuddles you as much as it would anybody else. It’s hard to look at the big picture and see the slow change from you two being The Glade’s biggest rivals to then becoming a steamy secret hookup, then a very strange situationship, and then finally two parts of a genuine, real connection. But when you zoom in on all the small moments, (ones that seemed insignificant at the time), it becomes clear as day.

{<--------->}

Day 1

“You came back late last night,” Gia poses suggestively while straightening out the covers on her bed.

“We thought you died,” Ariana continues with mock concern, braiding her hair while sitting on the hut floor.

“Or fell in the pond,” Lireale counters earnestly, setting a stack of her newly folded clothes into her trunk.

“So which one was it?” Elsie takes the direct approach while sitting on the edge of her bed, removing her socks.

“Neither; I just got lost for a bit. Drunk Y/N has a terrible sense of direction,” 

Your lie comes easily and your friends roll their eyes at your poor decision. You usually loved these nighttime debriefings but this one was starting to feel like a minefield.

“I thought you might’ve snuck off with a boy,” the newest Greenie pipes up quietly from atop her new bed in the corner, a smile tugging at her lips. The group breaks into barking laughter that’s just distracting enough to keep anyone from noticing the heat prickling under your eye sockets.

“Y/N isn’t exactly into boys,” Ariana pipes up with a knowing look at you as soon as the laughter dies down.

“I would be if we lived somewhere normal. But we don’t. Trust me, greenie, none of these shanks here are worth any of our time,” Your friends give a rousing cheer and the conversation pivots naturally to the new greenie and how she’s liking The Glade so far. You’re grateful their eyes have left your face, allowing your blush to dissipate gradually and your mind to stop replaying flashbacks of the night before.

Day 2

“Jesus, Newt, I don’t know! I was drunk, I don’t even remember going into the woods the other night. All I know is that I somehow made it back to my hut before morning” Gally snaps, trying to stop the barrage of questions tumbling from his friend's mouth.

“Well, drunk you seemed to be on quite a mission,” Newt counters with a grin, not at all phased by the Builder’s trademark aggression. Newt has a creeping feeling that Gally is full of shit and knows exactly why he entered the woods the other night, but he knows better than to press him. It’s rarely worth it to pick a fight with him.

“I’m sure he was. Next time I’m hammered, I’ll let you know what that mission was,” Gally grumbles, trying his best to put on a sarcastic tone. If he ever did get drunk enough to confess the mission he had been on the other night, he’d throw himself to the Grievers.

Day 5

It hadn’t taken much, really. Some lingering glances, a head jerk in his hut’s direction from Gally, an acknowledging nod from you, a hand signal from him; closed fist to open palm twice in rapid succession (flashing five fingers twice = meet at ten). You’d both been a lot more apprehensive losing your clothing sober, but you’d quickly picked up the passion that had burned the other night once more.

You’re on all fours with your back arched on Gally’s bed and he’s standing behind you, thrusting his hard cock into your quivering pussy as he grabs your waist tightly.

“Are you close?” the Builder huffs out in a low tone.

“Yeah…” He is determined to not leave you without a climax this time and reaches a hand around to your front, fumbling blindly until he locates the bundle of nerves hidden between your folds. When his rough fingers begin to fondle it, you feel a jolt of pleasure zap your body that causes your arms to buckle beneath you.

“Keep…doing that….and…slower….pleeease”. The whine on that last word makes Gally’s cock ache for release but he focuses on delivering you slow thrusts as he swipes at your clit. You feel the warmth building in your core as each stroke pushes you further to the edge until you’re gripping the sheets beside your head and pushing your thighs together, riding your climax to its satisfying finish.

“Did you..?” // “.....duh,” // “Can I-” // “Yeah go ahead,”

With your permission given, Gally quickens his thrusts for a few seconds, his own familiar wave of pleasure washing over him as his cum spurts into the condom buried deep inside of you.

Neither of you says a word while cleaning up and redressing, too high off the post-orgasm endorphins to trust your mouths not to say anything stupid.

“You fuck better when you’re sober,” you finally state with an air of constructed indifference.

“Really?” Gally raises a well-defined eyebrow at you, his blue eyes wide.

“You’re less sloppy. More…” // “...Focused?” // “...Intentional.”

Gally’s heart is pounding in his ears. Your praise of his sexual prowess seems to affect him more each time you express it.

“Thanks. You’re more…responsive, when you’re sober,” It was your turn to become skittish at his soft-spoken, rather clumsy compliment. 

This conversation has been backed into an awkward corner. You cross the room to his door, avoiding his eye contact in the process, ready to make a quick escape.

“‘Night” // “Yeah see you, um, later I guess” // “Yeah,”

The door closes quickly behind you, leaving Gally to curse his lack of verbal smoothness in his now starkly empty hut.

Day 7

You’re wrapping a thick gauze bandage around Chuck’s left ankle, which he rolled while trying to catch up with Minho earlier today. Why Chuck would ever believe he would be able to catch up to a guy whose only job is to run, is beyond you. The youngest Glader always seems to be tripping over his own feet, so this incident is nothing new. As he chatters idly, Jeff pokes his head around the med-hut’s dividing wall.

“Are you close?” he asks simply, entirely unaware of the context in which you last heard that phrase.

“What?!” you snap, your head swiveling so fast to meet his eye line that your hair slaps you in the face.

“Are you close to being done with Chuck?” he repeats, his forehead creasing in bewilderment at your reaction. “Fry burned his hand, we need the exam table,”

“Oh, yeah, give me two minutes,” you reply, relief coloring your voice now.

Day 11

Alby had sent one of his orderlies to fetch Gally “to talk”. The entire walk over, the Builder’s stomach had been doing somersaults. Had Alby somehow seen? Did someone else, and had they told? Did you tell him? His panic was for nothing, as it turned out the resounding answer to all of them was “no���.

All Alby had wanted to say to him was a generic message of praise. He gave sincere thanks for the incident-free bonfire night and encouraged him to keep up his civil behavior. He told Gally that he appreciated that he could be the bigger person.

The Builder had tried to conceal a chuckle at his leader’s choice of words as he exited the meeting room. He knew he shouldn’t be reminiscing about the walls of your pussy taking his cock as deep as he could bury it while getting genuine compliments from an authority figure, but the memories were too intoxicating to stop.

They had him riding a high of lustful endorphins for the rest of the day that confused his crew as they whispered theories to each other about what the hell was making their otherwise surly leader so easy-going today.

Day 14

“Dinner in the Med-hut tonight?” Minho asks comfortably, taking a spot behind you in line in the dining hall.

“Yeah, I’ve gotta restock supplies. Tomorrow Alby’s doing an inspection and the place is a goddamn disaster,” you sigh, not looking forward to your task but feeling it might be better with Minho to keep you company. The Runner was notoriously easy company to keep.

“Cool, I’ll give you a hand,” he states.

“No you don’t have to, you can just sit and talk to me while I-”

“I want to help,” Minho cuts you off, surprising himself with his boldness. Too forward, Minho, way too forward.

“Ok then. I’d appreciate your help,” you smile back, pleasantly surprised by his kindness.

Maybe not too forward?

Day 17

“...and thanks to Gally and his Builders for the new hut by the Map Room. I’m sure everybody who no longer has to sleep in a bloody hammock is grateful,” Newt reads from a clipboard of meeting notes, pride coloring his tone. A small smattering of applause ripples through the meeting room, with the inhabitants of this new hut clapping louder than all others. 

Gally gives an uncharacteristic smile that warms his usually stony face. You lock eye contact with him from across the room. Your gesture is small, (an almost-imperceivable nod and one singular clap of your hands), but he finds himself exceptionally appreciative nonetheless.

Day 19

You’re on your knees in the deadheads with the full length of Gally’s erect cock sheathed in your willing throat. He’s standing against a tree with shaking knees, his large fingers threaded through your soft hair, scattered moans and guttural whimpers falling from his lips.

“Fuck, ‘mclose…” he manages to breathe out, his grip on your hair tightening. 

Your heart flutters at this comment and you alternate between taking his entire length to the back of your throat in short, coarse jabs and swirling your tongue around his tip. The fluctuation is overstimulating for Gally, who still can’t believe you agreed to do this to him, in the middle of the work day. Maybe it’s this sudden surge of gratitude that brings a certain nickname to his mind.

“Thank you…princess…” he moans out, cringing slightly at his own comment at first but quickly losing himself in the pleasure once more. You run your tongue back and forth over the sensitive area just underneath his tip and stroke the rest of his shaft with your right hand.

“Princess…’m gonna…cum-” he chokes out, which serves as your cue to take his entire length deep in your throat and swallow every spurt of bitter liquid that ejaculates from his swollen tip. Gally releases his death grip on your hair and smooths it out softly, breathing heavily and trying to get his vision to quit spinning.

He looks down at you, as you release your mouth from around his cock and plant small kisses up and down his shaft that send shivers through his already-sensitive body.

“Sorry,” he mumbles through a blush, his rough hands traveling from your hair to your cheeks, where he cups them gently. The gesture is affectionate, which means it’s very out of character for Gally. So is apologizing, actually.

“Sorry for what?” you inquire, making eye contact with him through heavily lidded eyes.

“The nickname. I know it was dumb, I don’t know why I thought-”

“I liked it, actually,” you confess, standing and brushing away the dirt that sticks to your knees.

Gally pulls up his pants and boxers that had been pooling around his ankles and breaks out into a proud grin. He stretches himself to his full height and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Well then; have a good day princess,” he coos, letting the lust color his voice as he slinks away before you can respond.

Day 21

The air in between you and your Runner companion is unseasonably chilly but calm. Birds chirping loudly in the trees, leaves rustling in the trees and two pairs of boots squelching on the wet ground creates the sonic palette beneath your easy conversation. You gather white-headed mushrooms littering the forest floor to make a pain-relieving salve and deposit them in the wicker basket Minho insists on holding for you. 

“No offense to those guys obviously,” you start, depositing a handful of mushrooms into the basket with a soft thud, “it’s just that I wish we could have, like, real clothes,”

“Ones that aren’t sewed by teenagers using whatever materials they can find?” Minho asks with a smile.

“Yes. Ones that might be a tad more flattering to my figure,” you chuckle, straightening up from your leaning stance to stretch the loose fabric of your tunic to its full size with your hands. Minho seems to ponder this comment for a moment.

“I don’t know…” he mumbles, “I don’t think your figure needs much flattering,”

The statement hangs in the air for a moment, almost creating a tense cloud that you quickly dissipate with a well-placed snide comment.

“Yeah right,” you snort, forcing down the smile that threatens to envelop your face.

Day 24

“Y/N, can you toss me that rope?”

Gally realizes his faux pas as soon as the question leaves his lips. Everyone in his immediate vicinity snaps their heads up to look at him, having never heard him say your name for any other purpose than to start a fight. He tries to keep his expression neutral, though internally he’s panicking. There’s no way his fellow Gladers could work out that you two were having sex based on him asking you to hand him a piece of equipment…. but could they? 

“Sure, here,” you respond evenly, tossing the rope that was sitting in the grass next to you towards the Builder. You try to ignore the stares and hope the heat in your cheeks can be easily excused by the midday sun.

“Thanks,” he mutters, and all but leaves a cartoonish puff of smoke behind him, as he turns on his heel and returns to the task he needed the rope for.

That was bold, you think to yourself, watching the Glade’s inhabitants dart their eyes between you and him in bewilderment. You fix your face into a neutral expression, and silently plot to slug Gally in the arm for being so obvious when you see him in his hut later tonight.

Day 27

As it turns out, Gally asking you to hand him a rope is indeed enough to stoke rumors in The Glade that have been steadily growing for several days now.

“It was so weird,” Gladers would whisper to their friends who didn’t witness the minor incident, that has now been retold so many times it’s akin to legend.

“I thought they hated each other?” another would ask.

“I guess they made up,” others would chime in reluctantly.

You and Gally’s outright display of civility seemed to have marked a distinct end to an era for the most prolific gossipers among The Glade’s midst. For months upon months, they could rely on your feud with him to create consistent, free entertainment that provided a welcome respite from the horrors of everyday life. But now the fireworks seem to be over and the only question on everyone’s mind is; why?

Day 29

Gally stands in front of the closed door and allows his eyes to linger on you longer than he normally does. It���s bonfire night once again, and the both of you got stumbling drunk and ended up back here, repeating the steps of last month’s escapade like a well-rehearsed dance. He watches your figure, clothed in just your linen bra and underwear, sway to a beat no one but you can hear. 

Gally can’t explain why, but he’s beginning to like this arrangement for more than just sexual gratification. After the stress of each day beats him down, he can look forward to moments like this. Watching you dance to an imaginary audience, concealed in his hut, away from prying eyes and Grievers and mazes and chores. Just you and him, in your own little world. 

Day 32

“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever actually told me what you’re into. Like, in words,” you say, pulling away from kissing Gally and continuing the conversation you’d been having a few minutes ago about your preferences in bed.

“Oh, uh, fuck. I guess…ok, don’t laugh at me,” he shoots you an acidic glare. “But I guess I like when you…compliment me? Like when you tell me I’m doing good or I feel good or whatever. It’s uh…it motivates me, I guess,” His face is bright red and his stomach is doing flips; he’s never been this honest and it’s making him feel uncomfortably exposed.

“I probably would have guessed that,” you chuckle, diffusing the tension, “Noted,”

You file this information in the back of your mind and pull him back into you.

Day 34

“So you and Y/N are on better terms then?” Minho asks tentatively over dinner.

“Uh…” Gally pauses. To an untrained eye it might seem like he’s embarrassed, but he’s actually searching his mind for an appropriate half-truth. He is an impressively bad liar and might not be able to contain just how much better the terms he’s on with you are when asked about them directly.

“Yeah kinda. We uh…talked and kinda realized the whole feud thing is dumb. It’s childish,” Gally dismisses, clipping his voice with frequent pauses to keep his tone steady.

“Oh, that’s…that’s great dude!” Minho exhales, trying to keep the swell of excitement from bursting through his chest. If Gally doesn’t want to kill you anymore, then there aren’t many other obstacles keeping him from pursuing you.

Minho steers the conversation away from his question easily, starting in on the newest Greenie and how he nearly took Newt’s head off with a backhoe earlier today. 

Both the Runner and the Builder are blissfully unaware that the slight blush in both of their cheeks have the same source.

Day 35

“You’re so big, Gally,” you moan out, feeling every inch of him stretch your walls deliciously.

“You fill me up so well…” he leans down to kiss your neck, “...no one else could make me feel like this…” his thrusts quickens as desperation for you sets in, “...you’re so hot…” he whimpers in your ear, feeling his climax looming, “...and strong,”

Your addled mind, too preoccupied with the feeling of Gally’s cock sliding in and out of you, starts babbling compliments that are a lot less sexual in tone. 

“You’re so pretty…and smart…you can do…fucking anything. I’m happy I can…do this…for you. You deserve…a fucking….break. You’re so strong…and good. Gally; you’re so good….you’re good…you’re so good…soooo good…Gally…”

It’s this phrase that causes the Builder’s heart to race like never before. You’re so good. Not good at fucking you, not good in bed, just good. Inherently worthy. 

He’s never had anyone tell him he’s good, full stop. He thrusts harder and sloppier, trying to repay you for the praise. When his orgasm does come, it’s better than all of the other times combined.

He leans down to kiss your collarbone. It’s gentle and needy, not frenzied like before. You feel a drop of liquid on your bare skin, then a few more, then a stifled whimper. 

Gally’s crying. 

His face is hot and he can barely process the feeling of finishing inside you over the shame that’s now washing over him. He kisses your skin, trying to cut off his sobs with the pressure of his lips.

You instinctively run your warm hands up and down Gally’s arms, which simultaneously soothes him and furthers his embarrassment. He sighs and slowly lowers his torso on top of you, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. His heavier body causes unpleasant pressure on your chest but something tells you that moving will spook him. So you don’t. 

Until he pushes himself off of you jarringly, wiping his face and beginning to dress under the oppressive silence that’s now fallen between you two. You do the same, trying to keep your eyes off of him. You debate whether you should just leave his hut without saying a word, until you turn to face him. 

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, bouncing his left knee nervously, his hands clasped in a tight fist in front of his mouth, his eyes staring straight ahead. You sit down next to him and place a timid hand on his arm, which he immediately flinches away from.

“Jesus, dude, I can’t touch you now?” you hiss in a biting tone. You know that Gally deals with outright aggression a lot better than shows of vulnerability.

“I just didn’t know what you were doing, damn,” he responds in an equally huffy tone, though his body language doesn’t match. He lets one of his arms fall from his face and you both intertwine your fingers. Another moment of silence passes, and he finally speaks.

“I don’t-I don’t know what that was. I’m sorry. I just-I didn’t expect-I didn’t think that’s what you were gonna say and I-”

“It’s fine. I didn’t know I was gonna say all that stuff either. It just kinda…came out,”

“Yeah…yeah I get it,” 

Another agonizing stretch of silence fills the room.

“Did you, uh…did you mean it?” he winces as his mouth forms the words, as if anticipating a gut-punch.

“Mean what?” Playing dumb won’t stop this display of feelings but it’s your only defense. Gally doesn’t realize that vulnerability terrifies you just as much as it does him.

“What you said. That I’m…” his voice falters. 

He knows he’s about to puncture the nonchalance of your dynamic like a pin through a balloon. But he can’t stop himself. He thinks about the way your praise made his heart race and the rush of affection towards you he’s feeling right now as your hand is wrapped in his and out comes the word vomit, stinging his throat almost as much as the real thing.

“…pretty and uh, smart and that you like doing this for me…” he’s nervously scanning your face for a reaction but it’s your turn to look straight ahead now, becoming frozen with panic. “...and that I’m-I’m good. Do you…really think I’m good, Y/N?”

Yes, you want to scream, yes of course I meant it. All of it. Yes Gally; I think you’re-I mean, yes; you’re good. 

But you don’t say that. You can’t bring yourself to. This is all starting to feel very real and very far from the no-strings-attached sex you signed up for. You’re not ready to admit that this might be something more. So what you actually say is,

“I don’t know. It was just bedroom talk, Gally. I-I just got carried away. I’m sorry if I gave the impression that any of that meant-”

“Right, yeah, ok,” Gally cuts you off quickly, feeling a terrible ache rumble his chest, like a wall’s been dropped on top of him. He feels the hot sting of humiliation like flames connecting to his skin. He drops your hand quickly and resumes his original position of clasping his fists in front of his mouth, his elbows propped up on his knees.

“Gally I-” It’s already too late for justifications. The moment has passed.

“I think you should leave,” he’s still staring straight ahead, his eyes glassy.

“Uh, ok. Like, now?” you try to keep the pain out of your voice by feigning confusion.

“Yeah. You came here to fuck me and you did so, you can leave now,” he snaps back. Anger always seems to suit Gally better; it’s more becoming of him. 

“I don’t…I don’t understand what I did wrong,” Yes I do.

“Nothing’s wrong. We’re done having sex. Get the fuck out of my hut now,” Please don’t leave.

“Fine asshole; I’m leaving!” I’m sorry.

You rise to your feet dumbfounded. I’m sorry. You grab your jacket from the floor. I’m sorry. You walk to the door. I’m sorry. You turn the knob. I’m sorry. You step over the threshold. I’m sorry. You shut the door behind you. I’m sorry.

Despite the hundreds of times the phrase “I’m sorry” pounded in your ears as you left Gally behind, you never found the courage to say it out loud. You wipe your own tears from your eyes as you walk back to your hut, hoping that wasn’t the last chance you’d ever get to say it.

{<--------->}

Tags: @katie-tibo @my-little-universes @cthood @decaffeinatedpuppygiver @sarahstar11

[sundrop-writes]

Trouble Is...

Thomas (The Maze Runner) x Fem!Reader

All that I know is I just can’t say ‘no’ to you,

Funny how things never change.

All that I wanted was just to get over you.

Trouble is - I can’t find a way.

You’re part of me.

Trouble Is - you’re part of me.

Summary:

Now out of The Maze, everyone is enjoying their newfound sense of safety. Everyone except for Thomas.

He can’t enjoy the soft beds or the clean clothes or the food, because he’s too worried about you. You’re quarantined off somewhere else (presumably with other girls), and he hasn't seen you in days.

When he finally sees you, he’s too thankful to question why the two of you are put in a room alone together. Too thankful to question the mysterious smoke that’s pumped into the room. Too thankful to question why the door is locked.

Thomas (TMR) x Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Sex Pollen. Set during The Scorch Trials. 

Word Count: 7,900

The Maze Runner Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general warning that any and all TMR fics I write will be based on the movies and not the books, so any lore inaccuracies can be blamed on that; also this is a YA series, but DoB was in his 20s when he played Thomas, so for our purpose, these characters are aged up to at least 19 or 20; often sex pollen comes with a dubcon warning, but I’m not sure that applies here - these characters have a great deal of pre-existing affection for each other (I might even go so far as to say that they are in love), and they would have intensely enthusiastic consent, even without chemical enhancement; the reader does have some mental hesitation when she feels the pollen taking effect, but it’s not because she doesn’t want to have sex with Thomas, it’s because of PTSD from WCKD and feeling suspicious towards them (and when Thomas assures her that he will ‘take care of her’, she enthusiastically consents to having sex); warnings for unethical science because our characters do not know that they are part of a science experiment and have not consented to have these chemicals used on them (but that is just the canon of WCKD); the reader character has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; this fic DOES USE Y/N; this fic uses the beautiful age old trope that the reader character was the only girl in The Maze; mentions of the mental and emotional effects of isolation - the reader has been isolated from everyone else since leaving The Maze and Thomas is the first of her friends that she sees in days; this is mostly just smut with very little plot; because of the canon, both characters have had their memories erased and theoretically might be virgins or might not be virgins (yes, in the book, they were put into the Maze as ‘children’, but as I said, for my purposes, everyone is aged up) - so I am not explicitly stating if this is their first sexual experience or not, but this is their first sexual experience as a couple/first sexual experience with each other; as mentioned before, the main point of this is sex pollen - in the form of a mysterious sci-fi chemical compound that is injected into a locked room by WCKD as a part of a random experiment; scent kink - Thomas loves the way Reader smells (and has since long before being dosed with sex pollen); orgasm from clit stimulation through clothing; oral sex - reader receiving; hair pulling - Thomas receiving; unprotected penis in vagina sex; there is NO breeding kink here (the characters aren’t motivated or turned on by the idea of having a baby); there is creampie kink - Thomas does not pull out, and the characters are turned on by the idea of him cumming inside of her; Thomas is very possessive in this fic (but it’s almost unconscious, as a need to keep the reader safe, not in a jealous or romantic way); cockwarming - they fall sleeping while Thomas’s cock is still inside of the reader; the ending is slightly bittersweet (it’s implied that the reader is kidnapped/hurt by WCKD, but not explicitly stated). I believe that’s all for this short fic.

A/N: I am genuinely surprised that it took me this long to write and post a sex pollen fic, because it's absolutely one of my favourite tropes ever to read. WCKD is such a perfect backdrop for a sex pollen fic - shady unethical company that does weird science experiments - it's just too fitting. I have a few more sex pollen fics in my drafts that are yet to be finished, but I can definitely see myself writing a lot more of this trope because it was so much damn fun lmao. I will squeeze it into any fic universe that I possibly can. I love tropes that make things hornier than they should be - sex pollen, fuck or die, hate sex. All of it. Anyway - I hope you enjoy the fic, especially those of you who have been waiting for this fic in particular!!

...

Thomas was going insane. 

At least - that’s what it felt like. Sure, escaping The Maze had been a victory. Being rescued by the military and being taken to a (supposedly) safe place was, for all intents and purposes - a victory. 

But there was one detail that Thomas was hung up on that nobody else seemed to care about. While everybody else seemed content to go about their ‘new’ everyday lives - sleeping in the dorms, eating in the cafeteria, going through the barrage of medical tests without question - you were missing. And apparently, Thomas was the only one who seemed to care. 

Perhaps that was an exaggeration, seeing as the other boys from the Glade had known you longer, and they were likely worried about you silently because you were a dear friend to them. But it certainly felt like Thomas was the only one who was anxiously awaiting your return. 

When Thomas had come out of the Box, terrified, clueless, panicked - you had been the first person to be truly kind to him, rather than laughing at his blundering confusion. Every single time there had been an argument, you had stepped between him and Gally, making yourself known as a calm, motherly force that the other boys listened to - more out of habit than fear. 

You were a kind leader in the Glade that everyone respected, because you had earned their respect. Not because you bullied them into following you or even because you wielded some kind of natural seniority over them like Alby had. You were kind and sweet, and all the boys responded to that. 

Thomas had been surprised to learn that you had been one of the first people ever to come out of the Box. The second ever, according to Alby. You had such a strong, long-standing friendship with Alby, such a close bond with him. When Thomas saw the tears that streaked your face when you thought that Minho and Alby weren’t going to make it back before the doors closed was likely the number one thing that motivated Thomas to go dashing inside. He had wanted to rescue your closest friend for you. Some signal, some blaring siren inside him that screamed that he would do anything for you, that he needed to protect you. 

It was the same thing that caused him to hold you tight when you saw Alby slowly dying from the poison of the Griever’s sting, letting you cry on his shoulder. The same thing that drove him back into The Maze, looking for a way out. A deep longing to escape, to find a better home for you. 

And now, he was going more insane with each passing minute that you weren’t in front of his eyes. He was being driven out of his mind with each moment that your hand wasn’t grasped tightly within his own. Each moment that he couldn’t see you, feel you, hear your voice and know for certain that you were okay - it was slowly driving him mad. 

When the group had first arrived at this facility, this supposedly safe place - you had been ushered away from the rest of the group, viciously torn out of Thomas’s arms. His grasp on your hand the whole time had been bordering on melting his flesh into your own, and he was surprised when you had been the one to relax your hand out of that grip and give him that same soothing voice you did when he got into fights with Gally - telling him that it would be okay, that you would ‘catch up with them’ later. 

Thomas had wanted to kick and scream - he had wanted to yell, complain, protest about you being separated from everyone. He wanted to put up a fight about you being separated from him. But Minho clamped a hand on his shoulder and advised him to ‘shut the hell up’, clearly not wanting to upset the fragile peace they had established. Not wanting to disrupt the safety they had so freshly claimed. 

So Thomas kept his mouth shut - for now. It was for the greater good of the group. Everyone was bathed, clothed, fed, sleeping in warm beds. But he couldn’t help but to feel strange that he was the only one worried about you when they hadn’t seen you in days now. 

Minho simply assumed that girls weren’t allowed to co-mingle with guys in this new facility - and maybe he was right about that. But something about the whole thing just felt off to Thomas. It kept him on edge and kept him from sleeping more than an hour or so most nights while the other boys slumbered peacefully around him. 

On this particular day, Thomas was in the middle of picking at his meal, scoping out the area, theorizing if he could sneak past the guards somehow. If he could get past them, he could venture down any number of the hallways that they hadn’t been to before in order to look for you. He had all this romping through his mind at a break-rate pace when someone came up behind him - tapping on his shoulder and breaking him from these thoughts in a way that utterly startled him. 

Thomas whipped his head around to find one of those anonymous masked soldiers standing behind him. 

“Thomas?” 

He nodded in response.  

“Come with me.” 

Thomas wanted to question it, and when he looked back across the table, he saw Minho, Newt, and Fry looking at him with concern - but he gave them a gentle nod and rose from his seat to follow the man. Something in his gut told him that this might finally lead him to you - that his patience would finally pay off. And he wouldn’t risk that by throwing an emotional fit now. 

He followed the man through a door he had never been allowed to touch before, down a long hallway, through another set of doors, and down several more long hallways - Thomas memorized the twists and turns as he had done with The Maze. First left, then right, then another left. It felt like they had been walking for too long, and Thomas had to wonder just how large this building was. 

Just as Thomas was starting to feel truly on edge, the man came to a stop in front of a seemingly random door - one with a number on it. 708. He reached out, turned the handle, and opened the door. Then he nodded toward it. 

“In.” He said, giving Thomas a simple, brute instruction to get inside. 

Thomas was anxious and hesitant, but he pushed back those feelings - and he ended up being so glad that he did. 

When he stepped inside, he was overjoyed to see you. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed (it was a room that, upon closer inspection was more like a one room prison cell - with a single bed, a single a toilet in the corner, and a small metal desk with a chair in the other corner) - you looked up when you saw movement in the doorway, having no clue what was coming next. 

Your entire face lit up with intense joy when you saw Thomas. 

“Thomas!” You cried out his name with intense relief, emotional tears quickly springing up in the corners of your eyes as you jumped off the bed and rushed to greet him.

“Y/N,” He breathed out your name like a prayer, his arms opening wide for you as they had been many times before. 

You were quick to fall into the hug, tightly wrapping your arms around his strong torso, not wanting to let him go anytime soon. You had just been escorted back from your daily shower and your fresh clothes were still clinging to you with wetness, but he definitely didn’t mind the feeling of your damp skin under his hands. He didn’t care if you were getting his clothes wet because it was you. 

It only truly hit you now how utterly terrifying the past few days had been. Going from your home in the Glade to such a strange new place, being ripped away from everything you had ever known. Alby’s death, Chuck’s death, Gally’s death - your friends dropping like flies. Being brought here and being ripped away from the safety of your friends, ripped away from the last people you knew and being completely isolated from them, not knowing when you would get to see them again. 

Thomas’s tight hold around you - the familiarity of his body surrounding you, making you feel safe, it was something that made you realize how truly alone and scared you had been over the past few days. It made you realize that you had been swallowing down all of your emotions in an effort to protect yourself. It made you realize how much you truly cherished his hugs. How much you truly cherished him. 

“I was so worried about you.” Thomas breathed out, clearly making a heaving effort not to cry himself. 

You let out a gentle sob into his chest and he rubbed your back, trying his best to comfort you. 

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “It’s okay - I’m here now. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you go ever again. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, Y/N - I swear.” 

Unconsciously, he was promising these things more to himself. He felt like a failure for letting you out of his sight in the first place. He had no clue what they had done to you that had made you so upset, and he cursed himself for not being with you in order to protect you from it. Even though he didn’t know what ‘it’ was, it was stupid for letting anything bad happen to you. 

If either of you had been paying more attention, less caught up in the heightened emotions of the reunion, then you would have noticed the door sealing shut behind Thomas. You would have noticed the heavy ‘click’ of the lock as both of you became trapped there. But you had each other back now, and you couldn’t exactly care where you were in those moments - as long as you were in each others’ arms. 

“What happened?” Thomas demanded sharply, pulling away from the hug slightly in order to put a hand on your chin, forcing your tear-streaked gaze toward his, hoping to get the truth out of you. “What did they do? What did they do to you?” 

His energy increased in franticness the longer he went without an answer, staring at the sadness in your eyes with a knot forming in his stomach. 

“Nothing.” You quickly replied, feeling as though this was the truth. 

They hadn’t done anything to you. At least not anything that was outwardly malicious. 

They had let you shower, given you fresh clothes, fed you three healthy meals a day. And other than the medical appointments that you didn’t fully understand the point of (some of which were slightly more invasive than you would have liked), none of it was dangerous or painful. You had simply been kept in this room the whole time. You had been scared from being under-informed and lonely from not being allowed to see your friends. 

But none of that seemed like a crime. Especially compared to the treacherous deadly Grievers in The Maze. 

“Please don’t lie to me.” Thomas said quietly, his throat choked off by the intensity of the emotions - the grief he felt for your sadness, the anger he was holding back toward whoever had hurt you. (And towards himself for not better protecting you.) 

“Look, it’s nothing.” 

You assured him, reaching up and grabbing his hand, soothingly petting your fingers over his knuckles in a gesture almost too affectionate for someone you called ‘friend’. 

“Just - I was lonely. And I was scared because they wouldn’t let me see you. I was probably stuck in here, feeling all the same things you felt-” 

Thomas cut off your words by pulling you back into another crushing hug, which you eagerly leaned into, cuddling your cheek into his chest, enjoying the warmth and the safety you felt from having his arms around you again. 

“Yeah.” He easily agreed to this sentiment. And then he wondered: “Where have you been the whole time?” 

“Just here.” You told him honestly. 

You didn’t feel the need to tell him about the doctor’s appointments - even the unpleasant ones. Especially because you assumed that he and the other boys had been through the same, likely with a different doctor. 

This caused another knot in Thomas’s gut. They had been keeping you in the same tiny room, not letting you see any other people? So - Minho’s theory about you being off in some other dorm making friends with a bunch of girls had been completely wrong. 

It wasn’t outright cruel, but it made alarms go off in Thomas’s head. It made his protective instincts toward you act up again. 

“I won’t let that happen to you again.” Thomas said firmly, trying his best to be assuring, even though he knew that he had no real authority over the decision. 

He cradled your head soothingly, petting a hand over your hair in a sweet, protective way. 

“Thomas-” 

You were about to remind him of the fact that he held no power over this when a very strange sound caused your voice to shrink back into your throat as you became distracted. 

You and Thomas both became drawn to the sound, both of your heads whipping up to look at it. Immediately, you saw that some of the tiles lining the ceiling had shrunk back, making way for small metal tubes that protruded out of the walls all around the room, creating a high-pitched hissing noise as they sprayed some kind of white mist into the air. This went on for about twenty seconds before it stopped, and then the tubes retracted back into the walls and the tiles slid back into their usual place. 

… 

“Chemical compound LI69 has been distributed.”

“How long until the subjects feel the effects?” 

“Effects will be immediate. Symptoms should be noticeable in ten to twenty minutes. Desired outcome will be inevitable within twenty four hours.” 

“Good. Keep bi-hourly notes. I want a full report.” 

… 

“What - what the hell was that?” Thomas wondered aloud, frantically looking around the room where the tubes had disappeared into the walls. 

“I don’t know.” You replied honestly. “I mean - that’s never happened before. It - it was probably a disinfectant or something,” You shrugged, trying to rationalize it, trying not to jump to the conclusion that it was something poisonous or harmful. 

Thomas let go of you and whipped around to the door - panic flooded him when he turned the handle and found it locked. 

“Hello?!” He screamed, banging on the door and fruitlessly jiggling the handle. “Hello?! Assholes! You can let us out now!” 

“Thomas,” You scolded him gently - his panic naturally unsettling to you. 

You wanted him to calm down - his nervous energy was making you nervous. And you had spent far too much time over the past few days cramped up inside of this room being nervous. You wanted to simply be able to enjoy the pleasant fact of his presence after missing him for what felt like decades of loneliness. But Thomas wasn’t going to lay down and make that easy on you. 

He rushed to the other end of the room, stepping up onto the desk chair and then the desk, peering into the vent as though he would be able to find a way out through there. 

“Thomas, please - just calm down. I’m sure it was nothing.” You continued, trying to get him to calm down. 

“Nothing?” He scoffed. “It’s never just ‘nothing’ with these people.” 

This was the last thing he said to you before his mind locked in on the task, and he focused on trying to find a way out of the small room. 

He spent a few minutes trying to loosen the bolts on the vent (which wouldn’t have been large enough for either of you to crawl out even if he did get the vent cover off). So all he did was make his fingers sore fighting against the welded metal. And then he moved on to brute force - he picked up the chair and tried to simply beat the doorknob clean off. 

But again, it was something that was very well made, seemingly bulletproof. And by the time he had taken a few good swings, he was heaving with sweat, breathless, and he found it to be way too hot in the small space. 

Surely his body was boiling over from the efforts of swinging the chair around in such a small, closed space. So he placed it down and moved to take off his shirt, surprised by just how damp the fabric was, seeped with sweat already in such a short time. He balled up the fabric and began patting himself down with it, trying to get some relief on his overly heated skin. 

And then, his entire system became utterly distracted by a single, tiny sound. 

A whimper. 

He whipped his head around at lightning speed, realizing that it had been you who had made that sound - it had been your whimper. And suddenly, everything in Thomas’s body, every single one of his senses became utterly overwhelmed by you. 

The sight of you on the bed, sitting patiently, waiting for him to fetter away at whatever plan he came up with next - you looked so stunning, so breath-taking. You were covered in a sheen of sweat, obviously warmer than before - so it wasn’t just Thomas. It wasn’t just because of his exertion in trying to break out of here. 

Were they turning up the temperature in the room? Were they planning to cook the two of you as some kind of punishment? 

Yet - that thought quickly dissolved off into Thomas’s mind as a distant worry the more he looked at you; the more he drank in your slightly parted, bitten lips - so pretty, so kissable. The more he looked at the way stray hairs stuck to your flushed, sticky skin, wanting to gently wipe them out of the way. The more he admired your breasts gently heaving with each breath, your nipples sticking off through your shirt and thin bra. 

He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it before, but he could even smell you in the air. 

Your natural smell was something so prominent in the air, something so perfect he could suffocate in tight in the small space. Shamefully, that scent was something he knew so damn well, something he had memorized and treasured close when his memories of life had still been so few and his head had still been so empty. 

Hugging you those first few times, he had tucked his nose into your hair and greedily whiffed deep breaths of your scent, absolutely loving how you were sweet, soapy. Even if you were slightly sweaty from a long day of work, your natural scent was so damn perfect to him. 

It was a smell that he loved so dearly - on top of everything else that he loved about you. 

This time that wonderful scent that he knew as yours had something else underlying with it - something needy and pungent that he wouldn’t quite know yet was arousal. Your arousal. But it was bringing back that feeling of anxious insanity that he had been boiling with earlier that day. The feeling that made him practically crawl out of his own skin, feeling like he needed to get to you. Feeling like he needed to save you from some big, unseen danger. 

Here, now, being in this room with you - he still didn’t feel close enough. He wasn’t close enough to you. He still didn’t feel as though that anxious thing inside of him, calling out for you had been answered. Not yet. 

Thomas had the urge to reach out and pull you close, hold you in his arms again, but he had a feeling that he would squeeze you tight and not want to let go - and then he would lose focus on getting you out of this room and to a safe place. And that just wouldn’t do. 

“Thomas - you-your shirt…” You whispered the words on the edge of your breath, as though you were breaking some terrible secret by speaking it aloud. 

He had almost forgotten that he had stripped off his shirt in such a haste. The fabric was now clutched tightly in his shaking fist. Unconsciously, he was directing all of his energy to that point, furiously focusing on his grip to help himself resist the urge to reach out and grab you. 

He hadn’t yet noticed the way you were looking at him. 

Your eyes hungrily raking over his bare torso, scanning over every inch of him. From the muscles that bulged in his biceps while he moved, to the veins protruding in his forearms, to the trail of delicious dark hair down from his belly button that disappeared into his pants. It was a way you had never looked at him before. You had never truly noticed how Thomas - your strong, comforting Thomas - was so utterly, carnally sexy. 

He thought nothing of taking off his shirt in front of you, because it was something he had done plenty of times before. He had done it while working in the gardens with you (as a leader in the Glade, you had rotated jobs a lot, going wherever a spare hand was needed). And you certainly hadn’t looked at him with anything resembling hunger in your eyes back then. 

At least, he thought you hadn’t. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled out, worried that he had made you uncomfortable by stripping so casually in front of you. “I just find it really warm in here, too warm, it’s hot - do you find it hot?” 

He had to ask, hating that nagging heat, almost as if it was crawling under his skin - something so much different from the pleasantly warm sun of the Glade. This was a heat bubbling up from his very core, pin-pricking all over his skin from the inside out. He wondered if this was what a fever felt like. 

Was he getting sick? Was he going to get you sick?

He felt another thick bead of sweat roll down his face and he used his balled up shirt to wipe it off. 

“I guess?” You huffed out, seeming irritated. “Maybe.” 

You squirmed on the spot and let out a pained sound, something that had Thomas on high alert once again. 

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked, purposefully locking his knees to keep himself from jumping toward you. 

If he was getting sick, then invading your personal space wouldn’t be a good idea. In fact - he made it a point to take a step back, putting distance between himself and you. But he kept his eyes locked on you, keeping a protective watch over you while his back became flush with the metal of the door. It was a pleasantly cooling sensation for a moment before the fever inside of him overpowered it - reminding him just how boiling hot he was. 

“It hurts.” You told him, your voice dissolving into a shaky, pained whine. 

Shamefully, the sound rocked Thomas, and flooded him with something that could have only been described as arousal. 

Fuck. 

The way you looked up at him with glassy-eyes, tears barely edging your waterline, clearly hot and overwhelmed yourself, squirming against the bed - trying to get some friction against your… oh. Oh wow. That realization rocked him like a ton of bricks to the head, and even more heat swelled up inside of his gut. 

You must have been feeling all the same things that he was. 

Dizzy, hot, overwhelmed - having an intense need to hold you and to be held. Brain thumping with nothing but thoughts of you, mind littered with nothing but your smell, nothing but thoughts of your skin. Willing to do anything for you at a moment’s notice. 

Thomas finally let himself flex to those needs, and raced across the room toward you - literally falling on his knees in front of you. 

If you had pain, he would fix it. He would do anything for you. 

“What hurts?” He asked, realizing that the desperation throttling his throat made it sound more like he was begging. But he was too far gone to care. “What hurts? What’s wrong? Come on, tell me. Please.” 

You were almost too incoherent to put the feeling into words so quickly, as quickly as he needed you too. You were too distracted by the sight of his big soft brown eyes staring up at you with utter worship in them - along with his pink cheeks and bits of his dark hair stuck to his face with sweat, that softness contrasted by the broad hardness of his shoulders spread across your lap. 

“Thomas-” You gasped out, cut off by his next action. 

“Y/N, please.” 

He grabbed up both of your hands, clutching them tightly in his own - and that, the first skin-to-skin contact you had felt since becoming this overwhelmed with the heat and the need - it set something off inside of you. It sent sharp shocks up your spine and made your pussy clench around nothing, sending a flood of wetness soaking into your underwear. And it made you feel too weak for your own good in that moment. 

If you lingered there for too long, you would tumble into the abyss. You would simply give into every instinct screaming inside of your body and beg for him to fuck you until you didn’t know your own name. 

And even though that was everything you had ever wanted, all you could remember wanting right then and there, especially from Thomas, the small remaining sense in your brain said that it was a bad idea. 

You let out a sharp gasp, and raced to escape the touch - you knocked your hands out of his and squirmed away from him, jumping up off the bed. Thomas let out a whine of disappointment and crumbled tighter onto his knees, wondering what he could have done to disappoint you. Knowing that he needed to do anything he could to make up for disappointing you. 

But something inside of his skull was chanting: 

She’s in pain. Make it stop. Make her pain go away. 

You know the answer. 

And while you panicked, hoping to fight against what your body wanted, hoping to delay the inevitable, the thing that Thomas already knew he wanted, Thomas picked himself up off the floor. 

All too soon, he crowded into your personal space from behind. You let out another shocked gasp as he pressed his body into yours from behind, the firm, intensely heated muscle like wall of lava engulfing you. 

This time, not letting you get away, he secured you there with a hand around your chest that was oddly comforting, making sure to pull you close and keep you close. He forced you to feel every single inch of his boiling hot body pressed right up against yours. Sweat gently sticking against you through your clothes, his hot breath huffing against your neck, and what must have been the hard bulge of his cock pressing against the roundness of your ass. 

It was all too perfect. And still, something nagged in the back of your mind that you couldn’t have that perfection all to yourself. Something must have been wrong in order for this to be happening to you. 

“Thomas,” You whined out - unsure if you wanted to tell him to get off or wanted to beg him for more. 

Instinctively, you reached up and gripped at his forearm, sinking into the security of his touch. It was soothing, in a sense, and at the same time - it drove your body mad and made the pain in your cunt so much worse. 

Any mental clarity you previously had was quickly fading. 

So much so that neither of you had the mind to piece together that this was happening to you because of the chemicals that had been sprayed into the room earlier. Not that you could do much about it now. 

Thomas leaned over your shoulder, stuffing his nose into your neck, taking in a purposeful, thick whiff of your scent. He drank you in so shamelessly now, so happy to have you in his arms, right where he wanted you - right where he needed you. He held your body so tight to his, almost crushing you in his grip in the most perfect way - as if worried you might escape if he let you move even an inch. 

Between desperate pants, he laid slick, open-mouthed kisses along your forehead, down the side of your face - lavishing you with affection, grateful and greedy now that he had you in his arms, now that he had caught you. Grateful that he had taken you from those bastards who had stolen you from him. Grateful that he had won. 

His actions left you panting wildly into the air as the heat surged within your body - this attention on your skin not being enough, but yet, your mind was too muddled with the overwhelming heat to ask for more. 

He continued kissing your skin, even nosing along your cheek before he finally gathered enough of his mind to speak. 

“I’ll help. I’ll help you, Y/N.” 

He huffed out, heaving more of his dense beautiful breath across your skin, making you whine again in return. 

“I’ll fix it. Just tell me. Just tell me what hurts. Please, tell me. I promise I’ll fix it. I can fix it.” 

His utter dedication to you was sewn into every word, clutching you tighter across the chest in a way that almost crushed your windpipe - something that made you gasp for air and nearly thank him for it, wanting to dissolve back into his hot muscles and live there, somehow still not close enough. 

“I’ll do anything for you, Y/N, I will. I’ll help you. Just tell me, please.” 

You found the fire of that dedication more enlightening than the one slowly boiling you to death from inside, and it was that - that sacred promise that had you finally giving in. It was Thomas’s sacred affection for you that finally made you feel safe to give into your body’s needs. 

You reached out and grabbed Thomas’s hand - the one hovering by his side that wasn’t keeping you trapped tightly against his chest. His fingers locked tightly in a fist without the fabric of his shirt to keep his knuckles from popping under the fury of his own grip this time. You rubbed soothingly on the back of his palm, loosening the muscles there before you guided that hand between your thighs, guiding him to touch you on your still clothed pussy, through your pants. 

“Here, Tommy.” You breathed out, your tongue feeling so fat and useless in your mouth. “It hurts here. Need your help. Need you.” 

Without a moment of hesitation, instantly understanding what you needed, sparked with even more desperation by the nickname on your lips, Thomas sprung into action. 

He began frantically rubbing your pussy through your pants - inadvertently pushing the zipper at the front of your trousers right up against your clit with the heavy weight of his palm. A sensation that made you keen out and arch back into him as though you had been possessed, harsh, amazing tingles zapping through your body from that tiny point. You threw your head back against his shoulder and relied even more on the strength of his body and the will of his grip across your shoulders not to fall down as ravenous pleasure overtook you. 

“I’ll fix it.” He huffed into your ear. 

His voice barely registered to you past the shocking beautiful pleasure he was causing between your thighs as he continued to rub your clothed clit. 

“I’ll make it better. I’ll make it all better.” 

He laid more hot, sloppy kisses against your neck and your cheek, and you could do little more than moan out loudly and squirm against him, becoming utterly lost in the sensations. You accidentally humped your ass against his cock in a way that made him growl and rub your clit even harder, even faster. It made you absolutely alight with pleasure, filling all of your senses with nothing but him. Nothing but the feeling of his strong arm working between your thighs, nothing but the scent of his sweat in the air, nothing but his quiet growls against your ear. 

“Oh, Tommy!” You moaned out. “I’m gonna-” 

Before you knew it, your body had been overtaken by the intense wave of an orgasm, something that had you crying out loudly and shaking in his arms, your body beautifully dizzy in seconds. You reached out to grip his forearm, leaving claw marks in his skin while you let out a stream of incoherent sounds as the sensations rocked you. 

“Hey, shh. I got you. I got you,” He was nothing but a sweet assurance in your ear - his dick still throbbing and utterly needy in his pants, but forgotten in favor of pleasing you. For now. 

After a few moments, he lifted his hand from between your thighs, causing a sharp whine of disappointment from you. He used this touch to force your jaw toward him, twisting your neck awkwardly to meet him in a kiss over your shoulder. It caused an ache in your neck, but you delighted in the feeling of his lips desperately clinging to your own, the chance to steal his breath.

You had thought about kissing Thomas many times before - but you had never imagined that it would be like this. 

When it was over, there was one thing that both of you knew for certain: you both needed more.

“Please, Tommy.” You breathed against his mouth as you pulled away from the kiss. “I need more. Please.” 

Every single instinct inside of him screamed to follow this order - that this was the divine answer to his existence. This was everything his life had been leading up to from the moment he had seen your sweet face after he had been pulled out of that fucking Box. 

“I got you.” He assured you. 

He then guided you back to the bed and - very hesitantly - separated his grip from you in order to make sure that you could comfortably lay down on your back. Within seconds, he was on you again, absorbing your mouth into a hot, desperate kiss while he laid flush on top of you. 

You couldn’t help but to moan into that kiss, fisting your hands into his hair, holding him tightly to you as though he was your only source of oxygen - welcoming it when his tongue forced its way into your mouth. You sucked on it and moaned around him, becoming dizzier with the heat. 

When you felt his hard cock against your thigh, feeling him jutting his hips forward to try and find some relief against you - it caused a deeper pain in your pussy, a distinct feeling of emptiness and you knew that you needed more. You knew exactly what you needed - what that ‘more’ was. 

You pulled back from the kiss to whimper against his lips. 

“More.” You pleaded gently. “Please, Tommy.” 

“Yes.” He huffed back in return. “Anything - anything for you.” 

Naturally, his hands went back between your legs, and you guided him up to the button of your pants, both of you working frantically in tandem to get your pants off this time. That nagging heat only building inside of you, something telling you that you would go insane if you didn’t get your clothes off soon. While Thomas ripped your pants down over your thighs, pulling your underwear with them, you sat up slightly and ditched your shirt, leaving you wearing only the thin cotton bra that had come with this set of new clothes. 

Thomas let out a growl when more of your delicious scent hit him. With your pants around your ankles, it was more pungent now, ripe in the air, smacking him in the face in the most perfect way. And he felt another wave of crippling heat punch him in the gut as it fogged his brain over. It was so pungent that it was ripe on his tongue and he needed more. Something in his brain was chanting at him that he needed to taste it - he needed to devour that delicious scent, the essence of you, right from the fucking source. 

With his tongue lapping at the air like a fucking dog, Thomas let out more thick, heavy breaths while he desperately tried to untangle the fabric from your ankles, trying to free you so that he could have better access to you. After a moment too long of struggle for both of your liking, he was finally able to toss it all carelessly behind him, leaving you almost naked beneath him. 

But he didn’t have a moment to marvel at the beauty of your bare body. A sight that he had imagined so many times before in his mind’s eye, snuck away into the privacy of the woods with a hand tight around his cock thinking about this exact sight - no, he couldn’t sit back and simply drink it in. 

He was a man on a mission - a man living through a years long drought and finally met with the glorious fountain that would eternally quench his thirst. 

He didn’t even question the need to put his mouth on your pussy, didn’t wonder why the thought was so prominently at the forefront of his mind. Instead, he simply pinned your legs open against the bed with his palms flat on your inner thighs and did it, chased the urge that rang through his mind so damn clearly. 

“Oh, Thomas!” 

In seconds, it was the most divine thing he had ever experienced. 

With you moaning above his head, gasping out his name, with your taste so pungent on his tongue, with your heat beating under his mouth - it was too fucking perfect to let go of. 

Thomas moaned into your pussy, pure fuzzy pleasure melting his brain between his ears, making it impossible for him to think of anything but you. His mind filled with nothing but feed me, feed me, keep me alive, you are my life. 

The thick taste of your wetness on his tongue was all he needed, all he needed to live from now on, nothing more. He could feel you squirming and fighting against him; he could feel your thighs jolting and jumping under his hands as your nerves were overstimulated. He could feel your hips bucking up into his face, smearing more of that perfect wetness across his chin and cheeks, smothering him in it - perfect, how perfect. 

He could feel the sting of you tugging on his hair but it only added to the perfect sensation of dumb dizziness that pumped through him, that made him so fucking ravenous for you. It only made him moan into your cunt louder and shove his tongue into you deeper, looking for more. 

“Oh, ugh! Tommy! Tommy!” 

You felt like you were burning alive. 

His tongue against you was horrible and perfect - doing nothing to relieve the ache deep inside of you, one that demanded to be filled. 

His tongue lapping at you so hungrily only added more terrible, sweltering heat, causing more shocks of pleasure stinging up your body with each deep pass of his tongue that he swept over you, trying to devour you whole. 

The more he moaned against you, the more he vibrated your already sore clit, making you cry out, the more he caused your body to be consumed by that deep, uncomfortable he. The more he made it near impossible for you to breathe past the moans fighting out of your lungs. 

You desperately tugged on his hair, but only got his attention when you finally fought hard enough to get words out. 

“Tommy, please!” You begged, tears spilling out of your eyes now. “Please, stop! It hurts!” 

Those words - those painful words shocked Thomas back to reality. 

Had he been selfish, drinking from your essence to satisfy his thirst without considering your own? 

He pulled back from your pussy with a wet smack that made you whimper, taking his hands off your thighs, finally freeing your legs from the tight, stretched out position. Somehow, he looked even better staring you down with those needy, wide eyes while his face was covered in your juices. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I-” 

“Please, just - I need you.” You choked out in reply, reaching a shaking hand toward his pants. “I need you inside me, Tommy. I need you to fix it.” 

“Yes, yes, yes.” Thomas replied, chanting to you as though answering a prayer in a place of worship, fully prepared to worship you as the goddess you were to him. “Yes, I’ll fix it.” 

He rushed to get his pants and underwear off with just as much frantic struggle, and soon he was naked on top of you. Meanwhile, you ripped off the stupid bra in order to feel the satisfying press of his bare skin on yours, something impossibly boiling hot. A feeling that had you moaning into his shoulder while you hooked your leg around his hip, urgent to get closer to him. 

Without a second of hesitation, Thomas sunk his cock inside of you. 

His cock was a searing hot rod pressing into your well-slicked entrance, making both of you white-out with the feeling for a few moments while the need and satisfaction rattled through your insides. It was what you had both been waiting for, desperately needing from the moment that mystery chemical had hit your systems. And now that you had it - Thomas’s cock deep inside of you, the perfect satisfaction of being joined, being as close as possible, your body sang with perfect relief. 

But there was still that nagging for something more. 

Neither of you would be satisfied - it wouldn’t fully be out of your systems until you both came from this. 

It was that nagging that had him gripping onto your hips, holding you still so that he could begin hammering into you, desperate to answer that nagging in the back of his skull: fuck her, take her, fill her up - she’s yours. She is yours. 

It was a feeling so utterly perfect that you instantly relaxed against him - all of your muscles melting into the feeling of his cock fucking into you so rapidly, filling you up so well. You gripped tightly at his back, determined to hold him close, just as he had done to you before. You needed to keep him absolutely close, so tight to your body while his cock filled you up so perfectly. 

“Tommy, please. Oh, oh, Tommy!” You moaned into his neck, your pussy fluttering around him as his hips stuttered. 

Overwhelmed and dizzy with the heat, from the tips of his ears to the space where his cock sunk deep into your warm pussy, drowning in wetness, he could only focus on one thing. One single mission rattling between his ears. 

Fill her up. Make her yours. 

“Gonna fill you up.” He growled back, not even entirely realizing that he was speaking these words aloud - a sacred promise to him now, the only driving force of his entire life, the thing that his entire existence hinged on. “Gonna make you so full of me. So perfect, so full of me.” 

Getting lost in your warm pussy, filling you up, making your pain go away, worshiping you. He wasn’t going to lose you again, he was going to keep you safe. He was going to keep you in his arms forever, was going to keep you safe, wrapped around his cock - forever. He fucked his hips forward harder, making a loud, wet smack continually resonate throughout the room as he tried his hardest to deliver on these promises. 

“Gonna make you mine,” He growled, his voice reaching a deep tone that you had only ever heard when he had argued with Gally - ticked off, full of rage. “Gonna keep you safe. Forever.” 

But somehow - this was different. It was a rage that was twinged with passion. 

With love. 

It was a sound that made all the hair on your body stand on end, forced a sharp gasp from your lips as it utterly rocked your body. 

You dug your nails into his back, possessively gripping the flesh, holding him tightly, trying to keep him close. Forcing him to keep his promises. 

“Yours.” You echoed back, your voice half-breath, half pure need. 

“You are mine.” He groaned in return. “Mine, mine, mine, mine-” 

He chanted this as a mantra, fucking into you harder with each utterance of the sacred word before he cut himself off with a harsh gasp, his hips stilling suddenly. 

And then - perfection. 

He pressed into you as deeply as possible, filling you up with perfect warmth, delivering on his promise. Your gut curled with a nearly painful orgasm in response, causing you to bite down tightly on the flesh of his shoulder as you moaned wildly against him. Tears leaked from your eyes as you were nearly blinded with euphoria. 

“Mine.” Thomas hummed again, almost quietly to himself, leaving a small peak on the side of your neck to compliment his point. 

Once again, just as he had done when he first entered the room, he cradled your head so softly, petting your hair soothingly. It was a deep contrast to the near rabid man who had been fucking you only a minute ago. And he gently humped his hips against you, something unconscious telling him to make sure that he fucked his cum deeper into you - nice and deep. 

The two of you stayed tangled like this, instinctively not wanting to pull away from each other, an intense need to stay locked so close. Needing to be close to the person you needed most. In an effort not to crush you with his body weight, Thomas rolled onto his side, with you still holding him tightly, with your leg still hooked over his hip, with his softening cock slightly falling out of your now messy cunt - much to the disappointment of both of you. 

(Thomas surprised himself when he shoved his hips forward, trying to get closer, trying to get back inside of you.) 

But you both felt much more at ease now. And tangled together like that, with your arms wrapped around each other, with Thomas gently kissing over your forehead and your shoulders - you both dozed off into a gentle sleep. 

… 

Thomas woke up cold and alone. 

He dressed frantically, and surprisingly, he found the door unlocked. 

He had too many questions, and had one singular mission on his mind: 

Find you, and kill anybody who had laid their hands on you without his permission.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. If you liked this fic, please consider showing me that by reblogging or commenting, but if you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written instead of asking for more. If you want to see more fics from this fandom, I will be posting more in the future, and if you want to see more things that I have already posted, I have over one million words worth of work between my AO3 (linked in my pinned post) and my Masterlist for you to enjoy. Happy reading, and I hope you have a great day!!

[underoospeterparker]

tmr!thomas masterlist

top 1 maze runner *ੈ✩‧₊˚

one where you have a nightmare

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Some Kind of Disaster - Preview

Gally (TMR) x Fem!Reader

Concept: You saw Gally take a spear through the chest, and you are more than shocked to find him alive and well, in front of your eyes.

Preview Word Count: 970

If you like this preview, follow my writing blog @sundrop-writes and turn on notifications there as the full fic will be posted there sometime within the next few months when I have the time and energy to edit it. I may or may not make a TMR taglist, I'm not sure??

A/N: This is based entirely on the movie version of Gally, as I haven't read the books and don't plan on doing so. The title comes from an All Time Low song of the same name - which I would highly recommend listening to in order to get the vibes for this fic. Also apparently this is the same concept as a dozen other Gally fics, but I don't really care right now - because I got inspired to do it and it's entirely self indulgent, and this is my take on the concept lmao. I am currently on hiatus, but I've been working on fics as a form of stress relief during this time - but I haven't been editing fics. This fic will be posted after its edited sometime within the next month or two. (And there is already a sequel in the works, shhh.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and feedback is much appreciated!

Warnings: the full fic will be smut, but this is more of a tease of that; the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; spoilers for the films if you haven't seen them; arguing that turns into kissing; Gally has a self-deprecating/insecure inner monologue; mentions of Newt x Reader (it's one-sided in this fic, but may be something more later on ;)); Gally being possessive, Gally being rough (but the reader likes it); mention of Gally masturbating to thoughts of the reader; implications of Gally being taller than the reader (which I think is likely for most people cause Will Poulter is pretty fuckin tall); technically virginity loss (but it's not a big focus of the fic) - it's more about two people naturally enjoying their first time together (and I wrote this the same way I would write a first time in a relationship with two slightly more experienced characters) - and also nothing majorly sexual comes up in this part; this section: heated kissing with intentions towards sex, and that's pretty much it.

...

“Look, I’m sorry I’m not like them, okay?”

He spat out these words bitterly when you didn’t speak, and this left you confused. “I’m sorry I’m not some dumb brave hero guy-” 

You reached out and roughly shoved the middle of his chest again. Unknowingly, this aggravated the healed scar where the spear had gone through him, sending a dull ache through him at having the tender pink skin so roughly prodded without his chest armor on this time. 

“You’re so stupid!” You barked back, utterly insulted by his words. 

He thought this was par for the course, that you would begin hurling more insults before storming out. He thought that you would tell him his supposed ‘death’ had been the best thing that had ever happened to you, and the longing looks Newt had given you were truly something more. 

“God, you’re so-!” 

You choked on your own words and tears welled up in your eyes, and you took a sharp breath before you continued. 

“You are that dumb brave hero guy!” You yelled back, speaking like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Gally gaped at you, and you continued. 

“What do you think all that was?” You gestured vaguely behind yourself, obviously speaking about the events earlier in the day - when he had rushed into heavy bomb fire to drag you and the others to safety. “That was the dumbest hero guy thing I have ever seen.” You said, putting a stain of emphasis on the word ‘dumb’, pinching his own phrasing for it right in the ass. 

“That was nothing, I just did that because you were in danger, and-” 

“And that’s exactly what Thomas would have done.” You replied, quickly cutting him off. “You’re every bit as good as him. You are.” 

There was a tense moment where you stared him down, deep contemplation knit across his features while you waited for him to agree with you. 

“I wasn’t when you left the Maze.” He added on, quiet guilt floating through his voice. “I wasn’t brave then. I was a coward. I couldn’t be what you needed-” 

“You have always been what I need, Gally. When will you get that through your thick shank skull?” 

You were done rehashing the past. 

You were done contemplating the details of what could have been. It hit you truly then - all that mattered to you now was the fact that Gally, your Gally was in front of you, somehow alive and well. And though it was something you never could have predicted, you wouldn’t let such a beautiful thing slip through your fingers. 

You reached out and grabbed the front of his sweatshirt, pulling him forward roughly. At the end of that jerking motion, he was met with your lips, and he sunk into the kiss without a second thought, closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh that shouldn’t have suited him so well. Adding to that softness as he reached up to gently cup your cheeks while you gnawed at him with a feral passion. 

This is exactly what he had been waiting for. This was the reunion he had wanted all along. 

In a moment, the touch, your desperate grip on the front of his shirt, the way you ran your teeth along his bottom lip, edging toward something more - it triggered something within him. A possessive streak over you that had long been dormant; something once fueled by rage and jealousy and fear over the bad things that might happen to you if he wasn’t constantly looking over your shoulder. Now, it came from something much deeper. 

That immature love he had felt for you that had only grown and matured during your time apart, adding to a hungry passion for you now that he had you back in his arms - now that he could feel the heat of your skin, smell you, hear the whimpering patter of your breath and know that you were so damn real. (Not just another falsehood of his imagination with the details poorly filled in that he tried to soothe himself with, while he had a hand on his cock.) 

He was the one who charged at you this time, shoving you backwards and walking tightly with you, crowding you back until you hit a wall. You hadn’t truly taken in your surroundings, and if you had half a mind to, you would have noticed that this was some kind of dingy store room - used for scavenged spare parts for the vehicles and old guns that needed to be repaired in order to be put into use. 

But your brain didn’t take any of that in when your back made contact with the wall, Gally still kissing you fiercely, making you downright dizzy. You didn’t have time to think when one of his hands took a possessive hold on your thigh, hiking your leg up around his hip while his presence loomed over you, like the perfect protective wall you always felt that he was. He continued the heated liplock for a moment before he pulled away for air, and then, a particular query couldn’t be contained within you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked, half-teasing, still holding your death grip on his shirt. 

There was a particular hum between your thighs - something hot and beating and alive, a calling that demanded to be answered. You knew that you would be devastated if Gally stopped too soon or didn’t rise to that call. So you had to know what his intentions were now to prepare yourself for the potential disappointment. 

“Showing you how much I missed you.” He answered firmly, entirely certain, leaning in to capture your mouth again - pressing his whole body tightly against yours now. 

It sent a thrill through you - knowing that he would answer that call and thensome.

[bruisedboys]

LOVED YOUR THOMAS FIC!! Please write more Maze Runner. ALSO, I am a sucker for established relationship.

What about Thomas and reader (established relationship) reunite after being separated?

this is literally a year old but I discovered it in my drafts and had to post! pretty sure the maze runner fandom is dead rn but I simply do not care

tmr!thomas x fem!reader | established relationship, fluff and a bit of angst (set in the death cure)

Thomas thinks, if he doesn’t find you soon, he might as well be dead. He’s well on his way. His heart hasn’t felt normal since WCKD took you. It’s felt heavy as lead, weighing down in his chest like a rock, making it hard to walk, hard to breathe. He hasn’t been able to sleep, but being awake is so much worse. It’s horrible, spending every waking moment worrying about what WCKD is doing to you, wondering if you’re even alive, thinking about all the things he could’ve done better to save you.

The guilt eats at him like a virus, clawing at his heart and up his throat. Eating him alive and spitting him right back out until he feels like a zombie. A dead boy walking.

It takes over his body now, so much so that he’s not really thinking at all as he breaks into WCKD headquarters. He’s thinking, but he’s not thinking. He lets his body take over, he smashes through glass windows and knocks out guards with the butt of his gun, he busts down metal doors and screams your name down the fluorescent white and blue halls.

He yells himself hoarse. He and Newt come to a T shape in the seemingly never-ending hallways. Newt yells for them to take one each, and Thomas barrels down the right one, his heart pounding in his ears. He peers through big glass windows, sees machines and medical carts and computers, but no you. He’s starting to feel desperate. He’s starting to feel like he might kill someone just to find you. His legs feel numb. Then,

“Thomas! I’ve got her!”

Thomas runs faster than he’s ever run before. Twists on his heel and very nearly breaks his ankle, but goes sprinting the way he came, and down the hallway Newt took. Hope and guilt and desperation and regret surge through his body like electricity in his veins. He’s running so fast, so blind with hope, that he almost slams right into Newt. His friend grabs his elbow.

“Woah.” He’s breathing hard. But he’s smiling. “She’s okay, Tom.”

And then you appear as if out of nowhere, stepping out from behind Newt like an angel in a fiery, burning hot hell. You look pale. You look weak. You’re in a hospital gown and no shoes. There’s a big bruise in the crook of your elbow and your lips are cracked. But you’re here. He doesn’t want to sound like a loser, but Thomas could cry buckets right now.

“Y/N,” he says. He doesn’t sound like himself. Doesn’t feel like himself. He feels as if he’s standing watching the scene as merely an observer. It’s an odd feeling, an out of body experience.

“Thomas,” you say, and the relief in your tone breaks his heart into a million little pieces that seem to spill out onto the floor in front of him.

Thomas surges for you. He scoops you into a hug so tight it’s sure to bruise, which is stupid, but he isn’t thinking straight, and you squeeze him just as hard, anyway. You fling your arms around his neck and keep them there. Thomas doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They’re everywhere — your hair, your back, your neck — it’s like he’s worried you’ll slip away, or worried you’re merely a ghost of the girl he loves. The fabric of your hospital gown is starchy and foreign in his hands, but you’re warm and soft and familiar underneath it all.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He’s crying now, and Newt’s right there watching the whole thing, but Thomas doesn’t care. His heart hammers faster than light. Or is that your heart? He can’t tell, you’re pressed so tight to him they may as well be the same. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head hard where it’s buried in his neck. You’re crying too, he feels your warm tears sticky on his skin. “Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m okay, Tom.” Your hand is in his hair, stroking him gently like he’s the one who’d been kidnapped, not you. “It’s not your fault.”

Thomas blinks away hot, hot tears. They blur his vision. His ears are ringing, or is than an alarm somewhere blaring in the distance? He can’t tell, it doesn’t matter, he’s got you now and he’s never letting go.

Newt says something but neither of you hear him. You’re too busy coveting the hair at the nape of Thomas’ neck, and he’s too busy running his hands over the planes of your back as if memorising them. Newt tries again, louder.

“We have to go now!” he shouts, gripping Thomas’ shoulder.

Thomas pulls back, blinking rapidly. His ears finally stop ringing, only for them to pick up something worse, gunshots and yelling coming from somewhere too close, followed by thundering footsteps. He curses and takes your shoulders in two rough hands. Just be strong for a little longer, his touch says.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you again. Guilt and sincerity roll into one to ache like a wound over his heart. “We have to go now, sweetheart. We’re gonna find Minho and get you the hell out of here. Can you walk?”

He’s willing to carry you if you have to. But you nod and grab his hand fiercely. The three of you take off down the hallway and Thomas decides he’s never, ever, letting you go again.

[itsjustrosee]

hihiii !! could you maybe do a highschool au minho x fem!reader fic based on the song "wet dreamz" by j. cole?

i've always loved that song and always wanted to see a fic based on the story in it ahhhh

bro I kid u not that is literally my favorite fucking song YES I WILL DO THIS. this gotta be one of my fav requests

Wet Dreamz (Minho x fem!reader)

Context: Tmr highschool au, listen to Wet Dreamz by J. Cole, that's what this fic is based on, (the song is a bit 18+ jus letting yall know)

Warnings: Spice, smut, and cursing

Word count: 4.4k

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

Minhos heart beat quickly while you gently and slowly removed your shirt, revealing the white laced bra you had on underneath. Minho's breath hitched and the boner in his pants hardened as you began taking off your shorts in front of him. Clothes scattered the floor as Minho looked at you up and down, his eyes staying on your body as if trying to commit the image of it to his memory.

Stepping towards him, you guided his motions and helped him remove his shirt. Minho griped your hips gently as he brought you closer to him, putting you on his lap as you wrapped your legs around his waist, and your arms around his neck. Minho leaned in first and merged his lips onto yours.

Your tounges worked in unison as they began pushing and pulling apart with each other. The tension in the room was heavy and thick as you both continued to kiss each other, becoming more desperate and needy. Minho could feel himself grow harder under you and he couldn't wait to get more of you.

Before the situation could escalate any further, you pulled away, looking Minho in the eyes as you began to speak. "Minho," you whispered calmly and softly into his ear.

"Yeah?" Minho asked with a slight hesitation in his voice. He wasn't even sure of what he wanted to hear you say exactly, but he was hoping that it would be along the lines of you wanting to go further with him.

Everything at that moment felt like a haze as you brought your face back to look at him. As you opened your mouth, Minho expected to hear your voice and the words he so desperately wanted to hear you say, but instead, he heard the opening cords of the Eye of the Tiger by Survivor, ringing in his ears.

Suddenly Minho woke up, drenched in sweat as he jolted up from his sleep. His heart beat fast as he looked around his room, but you were nowhere to be found. Eventually, his brain caught up with him, realizing what had happened.

It wasn't the first time he had had a wet dream, and it definitely wasn't the first time he had had a wet dream with you in it. He sighed as he shut off the alarm on his nightstand, which was gifted to him by Thomas, who had somehow programmed it to play Minho's favorite song instead of a boring old alarm. However, the song was starting to become increasingly more irritating each and every morning.

As Minho got dressed and brushed his teeth, getting ready for school, his mind couldn't help but wander back to you.

You were another senior in Minho's grade and he only shared one class with you. Math. Even though Minho was a relatively smart kid, he hated math. I mean, who didn't? But the only thing that made up for it was the fact you were in his class.

Minho would be lying if he said he didn't have a crush on you. He'd also be lying if he said that whenever you were near him his heart skipped a beat and his cheeks reddened, but it's not like he could help it. You were gorgeous. The way your long (H/C) hair fell over your shoulder when you spoke, or how it swayed when you walked, was enough to make Minho pass out. You had a slim and fit figure that Minho couldn't help but fantasize about. Let alone that, but you also had an ass that made people look once the first time, then do a double-take to see if it was even real.

It's not like Minho only liked you for your looks though. There was so much more to you than that. You were probably one of the funniest people Minho had ever met, and you also had the personality of an angel. The way spoke could make any guy faint after hearing it, and Minho almost did after hearing you talk to him for the first time during class.

-----

It was early September when Minho stepped into math class on the first day of school. He walked through the door, looked at the seating chart, and sat down. When you walked into the room, Minho's eyes were on you and only you as you stepped towards the teacher's desk, asking her something that he wasn't able to make out. He was lost in thought as his mind began racing, so when you came over and asked him something he didn't even hear you the first time.

"Hello?" You spoke and Minho's heart melted after hearing your voice.

"Oh hey. Sorry did you ask me something?" Minho said, his mind finally beginning to catch up with him again. He took a moment to get a better look at you as he realized you must've been a new student because trust me, he would've been able to recognize a face and a smile that beautiful from a mile away.

"Yeah, I did, but it's alright." You said with a chuckle while pausing for a moment before continuing, "Are you Minho? Mrs. Johnson told me that's who I was sitting next to." You spoke while referring to the teacher sitting at the front of the room who began to stand up, eager to start her lesson.

"Yeah, that's me. And you would be?" Minho asked as you began to sit at the desk next to his. Minho thanked every god there was that for some miraculous reason, you were assigned to sit next to him.

"I'm (Y/N). It's nice to meet you Minho." You said while giving him a warm smile that made Minho's cheeks flush.

Ever since that moment, Minho and you only grew closer. Talking to each other so much during math to the point where the teacher got so mad that you both were forced to communicate through passing notes.

But that wasn't the only thing that had grown since then. Minho's feelings for you grew more and more intense every single day and he didn't know how much longer he could try and hide them for.

-----

"Minho!" Newt exclaimed as he nudged Minho's shoulder, snapping him back into reality.

"Jesus Newt what is it?" Minho asked as he rubbed his eyes with his hands and readjusted himself in his chair as he sat up further. His mind began to come back to him as he reevaluated his surroundings, remembering that he was in the library with Newt. They had both made the habit of visiting the library during their free period to work on schoolwork or to just talk with each other.

"I literally called your name like five times." Newt said with a scoff before looking at Minho dumbfounded, "Dude we're supposed to be working on that project we have in Latin?" Newt says while trying to catch his daydreamer of a friend back up.

"Oh shit right," Minho replies with a sudden realization. "Sorry man, my mind has just been somewhere else today," Minho said with a sigh as he took out a binder from his bag on the ground to the left of him, setting it on the table he and Newt were currently sitting at.

Newt, who was to the right of him sitting in his own chair, rolled his eyes before speaking again, "Right, and when you say 'somewhere else' you really just mean off thinking about (Y/N) right?" Newt questions with a smirk on his face while Minho glares at him.

"Oh fuck off Newt," Minho says while looking at Newt, who appears to be too busy staring behind Minho than at him. Minho turns around to see you walking over and immediately his face reddens. He prayed that you hadn't heard what he and Newt had been talking about just a moment before.

Newt shot Minho a look as you walked between the both of them, your voice making Minho melt as you spoke, "Hi Minho, Hi Newt. What are you guys up to?"

"Oh uh- nothing much, I was just working on our Latin project," Minho said with an awkward smile while running his fingers through his hair.

You gave him a nob but before you could reply Newt spoke, "You mean I was working on our Latin project while you were busy daydreaming." Newt said with a chuckle, a wolfish grin spread across his face as Minho began to stare daggers at him. His gaze radiated 'Say one more thing Newt and I swear to god I will kill you'.

You replied with a giggle as you began to explain, "God I am the same way. I'm sure my chem partner hates me." turning to look at Minho with a warm and sympathetic smile that made Minho's heart skip one too many beats. He often wondered how you could just effortlessly make Minho's heart quicken and mind spin. Maybe you had some sort of superpower. Minho wasn't quite too sure what it was.

Minho chuckled in response to your statement. How could anyone ever hate a girl like you? He thought to himself, though he knew better to than to say something like that aloud.

Minho hears you mumbling a curse under your breath as you take your phone out of your pocket and look at the time. "Oh shit- I totally forgot that I promised I'd meet Brenda at her locker during her free." You say while fumbling with your phone and Minho sees you presumably shooting a quick apology text to her before putting it away. "I gotta go before she gets even more mad at me, but it was nice seeing you guys." You explain while giving Newt a wave goodbye.

You take a couple steps around Minho to his left and right before you are about to keep walking away, you stop to put your hand on his shoulder.

"I'll see you next period." You say with a smile while giving Minho's shoulder a quick squeeze and Minho can only smile in reply as the words he planned on says got caught in his throat.

As you removed your hand from his shoulder, Minho could only watch as you walked away. Was that real? Was he dreaming again? He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, wondering if you even knew how your actions had such an effect on him.

Newt once again knocked Minho out of his thoughts with his patronizing laugh, "God you're down horrendously for her."

"Shut up"

"You should tell her how you feel. That's all I'm saying," Newt said while putting his hands up in innocents.

"Yeah maybe. But I don't think she'd like me back." Minho sighed as he spoke, clearly defeated. He would want nothing more than to tell you how he felt but the fear of rejection was definitely holding him back.

"No, she would Minho," Newt says with certainty before continuing, "It's so obvious with how she looks at you."

"Really?"

"Really," Newt confirms after giving Minho an encouraging smile as he puts his binder and other random scattered papers back into his bag.

"OK then. I think I'm going to tell her." Minho says while smiling to himself as he too puts away his binder and anything else he had taken out of his bag.

The bell rings as Newt and Minho get out of their seats and walk out of the main library doors and into the hall. Before Newt and Minho can go their separate ways Newt speaks, "Go get 'em tiger" He says with a chuckle as he pats Minho on the back.

Minho says his goodbye and walks away chuckling but then the realization sets in. Shit, he had math this period. If he was going to tell you how he felt he would be doing it then.

And now Minho was slightly freaking out.

He calmed his nerves as much as he could as he walked into the classroom and over to the pair of desks you both sat at. Of course, you were already there, greeting Minho with a warm smile as he sat down.

You both started to make small talk about each other's days and the math homework before the period started but once the second bell rang, your math teacher glared at the both of you to stop talking. But that never really meant that you guys stopped talking.

You pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil and you began to write on it. And this had become a normal occurrence for you both, almost a routine of sorts.

One of you would get out a piece of paper and jot something down so you could continue your conversation that way. Most of the time you guys talked about random stuff, or maybe gossiped about the people in our grade, but it wasn't really anything beyond that.

Minho couldn't tell if this was going to make things easier or harder for him to confess to you. But before Minho could stress himself out any further, you slid the note to him. After his eyes skimmed what you had written, he wondered if he was actually going crazy.

The note read: have you ever had sex before?

Minho read it ten times over to see if he had actually read it properly the first time. He wondered if his scrambled fucking brain was just starting to imagine things, but after looking at it for the 15th time he realized it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him.

Minho glanced over to you as he began to reply but you weren't looking at him, though he could still make out the slight blush on your cheeks and the shy smile that tugged on the ends of your mouth.

As Minho grabbed a pencil from his bag he began to reply. In this scenario, he thought the best option was to lie his ass off. Who knew what you were going to do if he said no.

Minho slid the paper back over to you which now had another sentence below where you had previously written, stating: Of course I have, I'm like a pro.

Minho was trying to make the situation slightly more joking because he didn't know what else to do. He was trying his hardest to play it cool. For all he knew, you would reply with a joke back because he still wasn't sure if you were being serious. Minho's anticipation for a response grew more and more as he waited.

Finally, you slid the note in Minho's direction once more. The note read: Oh so you're a pro? I want you to show me. then a line below that, you continued: My parents are gone for the weekend, so maybe you could come over Saturday?

Minho couldn't believe his eyes. Not at all. Were you joking with him? I mean, even if it was just a joke, he might as well play along, right?

Sounds like a plan, Minho wrote back on the paper and handed it over to you. Once you read it, you looked at him for the first time since this note conversation began and smiled at him. Minho watched as you folded the paper away and put it in your pocket, returning your attention to the lesson.

Ok so now, Minho was mentally pissing himself. Though you were one to make jokes, You'd never tried to make any jokes about this type of thing. Minho could tell though that you were actually being serious.

For the rest of the duration of the class, you and Minho whispered hushed conversations to each other instead of note-passing and thankfully your teacher hadn't noticed. Your conversations continued like usual and by the time class and school were over, Minho thought that he dreamed the whole situation up. That was until he received a text message from you, telling him to be over tomorrow at 8. You didn't need to tell Minho where you lived because you've been to each other's houses to study for upcoming math quizzes/ tests, so you didn't mention anything about it in the text you sent.

After staring at the text for about ten minutes, Minho came to his senses and actually realized that this whole thing was going to happen. That still didn't stop him from stressing out about it though.

I mean he hasn't even gotten past second base, and now he was going to lose his V-card to you? Not only that but he literally lied about not being a virgin in the first place.

Minho sighed as he lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. It's not like he hasn't watched his fair share of pornos, he obviously knows what to do, but that's not what was worrying him. He couldn't be happier than to have his first time with you, that was for sure. And if you wanted to have sex with him, that would mean you had to have some sort of romantic interest in him, right? Minho's main concern was whether he'd be good enough. What if he was terrible and you never wanted to talk to him again?

Minho took a deep breath in and exhaled deeply as he stared back at his phone. Nothing would go his way if he kept overthinking it.

I'll be there, he texted back.

-----

Minho's heart beat fast as he pulled his car into your driveway at 8. Before he left, he called and told Newt what was going on, and obliviously, he freaked the hell out. It was safe to say that that didn't help Minho's nerves. After the initial shock, Newt gave him a quick pep talk and now he was actually feeling relatively confident.

As Minho walked out of the car and up to your front door, nervously fiddling with his sweatpants pocket to make sure that he had remembered to bring condoms. He knocked once on the door and after a couple seconds, you answered it and welcomed him in with a warm smile.

"I'm glad you could come." You say while leading Minho inside.

"I'm glad you invited me," Minho said with a smirk as he followed you. On the way upstairs and to your room, you got into your usual small talk with each other, and Minho didn't feel nearly as much pressure as he had before.

You eventually came down the hallway and stopped in front of your room. You twisted the knob and opened the door, walking in front of Minho as he followed. This wasn't Minho's first time in your room and it almost felt normal as you sat down on your bed crisscross apple sauce, patting the space next to you indicating for Minho to sit down.

There was a small moment of silence as Minho sat down next to you. Minho noticed there was very little space between the both of you as he turned his head to look at you, propping your arms behind you on the bed while you sat. Minho realized that there was something about you he just couldn't describe. It's as if words failed to properly explain how beautiful you were in his eyes. Maybe it was your eyes and how their vibrant color glistened even when they weren't in the light.

"What are you staring at, huh?" You said playfully, tilting your head while turning to look at Minho.

"You're just really beautiful," Minho replied, the words coming out before he could even understand what he was saying.

You leaned closer, putting your hand on his cheek, thumb lightly rubbing his freshly shaven skin as you spoke, "Do you say that to every girl before you're about to sleep with them?" a grin spreading across your face as you asked.

"Nope, only with the ones I really like," Minho said as he joked with you.

You chuckled in reply as Minho put his hand over yours. He twisted his torso to get a better angle of you. It was quiet for a moment before anyone did anything else. Minho quickly broke that silence by leaning into you, merging your lips with his, and you reciprocated it quite quickly. The kiss was gentle and passionate as he continued, savoring what it felt like to be so intimate with you.

You held the kiss as you swung your legs over Minho, straddling him as you did so. Minho moved his hands under your shirt and up your back, sending waves of electricity coursing through you. You moved your hand on his cheek to the back of his neck, playing with strands of Minho's black hair as you did so. Your other arm found its way up Minho's shirt, tracing each one of his defined muscles delicately.

Minho only melted into your touch further as the kiss continued. He became more hungry and desperate as you allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He kissed you like his life depended on it as if he was just dreaming and he could wake up any moment.

After tugging on the hem of his shirt, Minho pulled it off, your shirt coming off as well, not too soon after. Minho became drunk from the skin-to-skin contact and he could already feel himself harden under you.

Minho broke away from the kiss first, leaving the both of you breathless as he flipped you over so your entire body was on the bed, Minho positioned himself over you. His hands were placed on either side of you and he was on his knees, in between yours. You smirked at the sudden control Minho was taking, and he viewed that as a sign to keep going, so he did.

He kissed you once more, his lips biting down on your bottom lip as they traveled down your jaw and your collarbone. You took your shorts off, revealing your white lace panties before you turned your attention to Minho's pants. You unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down. Minho got the hint soon after and pulled them down all the way, tossing them over the side of the bed before continuing where he left off, giving you hickeys all over your neck. You moaned as he sucked at the sensitive parts of your neck and collarbone, which only make Minho get even harder than he was before.

You notice how hard Minho has gotten and you take your hand, gently tugging on the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down far enough for his cock to spring free. You lick your hand and begin slowly rubbing Minho up and down, a soft groan escapes Minho's mouth as you do.

"Minho," You say, your voice breaking slightly.

"Yeah?" Minho asks while looking up at you, a little worried that he may have been taking things too fast.

"I-I want you." You reply while putting your hand on his cheek again.

Minho could only grin as you said this and he quickly bent over the side of the bed and grabbed a condom from his discarded jeans pocket. He ripped open the packaging, sliding the condom on as he pulled your panties to the side. He began aligning himself with your entrance but before he did anything he looked back at you.

"Wait Minho." you said before continuing, "I know you've done this before, but this is my first time," you explained, slightly embarrassed to admit it.

"Don't be worried baby, I'll be gentle I promise," Minho said into your ear as he slowly pushed into you.

You moaned loudly as your walls stretched as he entered you further. Your pain and discomfort quickly turned into pleasure as he entered you fully. He kept one of his hands on your hip and the other holding your hand above your head You kept your hand securely around his back as you arched into him. You loved the way he made you feel, and as his thrusts began slowly, you couldn't get enough of it.

"You're doing perfect sweetheart," Minho muttered into your ear as he continued. As he kept thrusting, he kept letting you know how well you were taking him. He loved praising you and letting you know how good you were doing, which only made you feel even more turned on.

Minho sped up his pace slightly and he could already feel himself get closer and closer to his climax and by the way he felt you tightening around him, he could tell you were close too.

"Minho I'm close," you moan as he continues to pound into you.

With one final thrust, both you and Minho finished at the same time. You moaned loudly and Minho felt a wave of ecstasy crash over him as he kept his cock in you for a few moments after finishing. He pulled out gently and took off his condom, tying a knot around the top and throwing it in the trash can in the corner of your room. Minho grabbed his boxers and pulled them back up as he towered over you, standing on his knees with his back straight.

Minho kissed you on the forehead then got up from the bed quickly and grabbed a washcloth from your bathroom. He came back out from the bathroom with a damp washcloth in his hand as he got back onto the bed, repositioning himself in between you. He opened your legs and began to clean you up, which shocked you because you hadn't even known after-care this nice even existed.

"Thank you," you muttered shyly as Minho tossed the washcloth into your hamper and readjusted your panties.

"Of course baby," Minho said, giving you another kiss while lying down next to you. You turned onto your side towards Minho, resting your hands on his chest while he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He pulled your covers up and over the both of you with his free hand.

"So I'm guessing you wouldn't mind staying the night?" You ask while looking up at Minho, a small smile forming at the edges of your mouth.

"If you want me to," Minho said, his voice hopeful.

"Well obviously I'd want you to, what kind of question is that?" You said with a giggle as you looked into Minho's pretty brown eyes.

"Alright then, I just was just making sure." Minho replied, chuckling back with you, "So I'm guessing you had a good first time?"

"I had the best time." You said with a genuine smile, making Minho's heart tug at the strings.

"I'm glad." Minho sighed while kissing you on the forehead once more. He stroked your upper arm with his thumb as you rested your head on his chest. Your eyes fluttered close and you'd fallen asleep, and before Minho could realize it, he began to drift off as well.

Ok guys here is YET ANOTHER minho fic, per request. I'm sorry if it seems a bit rushed, But otherwise, I gotta say I'm pretty happy with how things turned out. considering it was a bit difficult to actually piece this whole story together and make it make sense with the song. If that makes sense. Lmao

Thank you again for all the support yall have been giving me, reading your comments fills me with sm joy you have no idea.

Btw I have seen all of your requests and I promise I'm getting to them!

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

Hi Rin! I've been reading your writings and I've been having the best fun, thanks you for the hard work! Seeing that you are accepting requests I was wondering if you could do a Minho x reader? (Female if possible but ofc if not that's good too!) With reader having a sweet and caring personality and Minho at the beginning scoffing at her bc he thinks everyone is too soft on them but newt and others commenting of him being hyper aware so they tease him saying he has a crush? And then a scene where he starts developing feels and he's like nonono but there's no way out hehe. Hope you have a very lovely day!

This is so cute!!!!!! Thanks for requesting (and waiting 😭) ❤❤

Got a very teenage vibe from this as I was writing, hence the title

Teenage dream

Minho x fem!reader

Set during tmr (movieverse, before Thomas)

Notes: this is more of a Minho pov fic? Hope that's ok :))) Kinda switches back to reader at the end though

Warnings: vomit tw, language, reader's drunkness levels change drastically within minutes, ALSO TEENAGE AWKWARDNESS TO THE MAX, I swear Minho has better game in my other fics, he's just a silly sweet guy here lmao

"Light 'em up!"

Minho stands back as the other boys throw their stakes into the bonfire, watching you giggle at their raucous cheers from across the Glade, an involuntary smile rising on his face.

Before long, the party's in full swing; meaning everyone is now yet again horribly, stupidly drunk.

Minho, as usual, has only had a bit of Gally's concoction, and is idly chatting with Ben as he hears a loud crash.

"What the..."

He leaves Ben, jogging over to the scene to see... of course.

It's you, the two-months-in newbie, and you're sprawled out on the ground in a mess of barrels that have been knocked down, potatoes spilling everywhere.

Your arms are tangled with Newt's- Newt? and you're both laughing, harder than Minho's seen Newt laugh in a while.

"We- the potatoes. The potatoes," Newt manages to say, gasping between cackles.

"Eh. Problem for tomorrow," you sing, extracting yourself from the barrels and potatoes that are now all over the ground.

"Here," says Minho, containing his eyeroll and stepping forward to offer Newt an arm.

"Thanks, man."

Minho tugs Newt up, and yep, he's plastered cause Newt flies up and stumbles forward, crashing into an amused Jeff and nearly sending them both tumbling down.

You stand beside Newt, body folding in laughter as you reach out to grab his arm.

"What's going on?" Alby's voice cuts through the chaos.

You wobble over to him, grabbing one of his hands and clasping it between both of yours in a praying motion. "Sorry, Albs. We'll clean it up in the morning, promise."

"Yeah, you better," says Alby, and his voice is stern but Minho can see the smile reaching his eyes.

What the hell? What happened to their strict leader?

"Thanks, leader man," you say with a grin, patting his chest and giving him a cheesy thumbs up.

Suddenly shouts sound out nearby, and Minho turns to see someone staggering around before turning and throwing up right onto a tabletop.

"Dammit, Ben," mutters Jeff, pinching the bridge of his nose and rushing over.

"Did someone throw up?" Minho hears you ask, before you jog over, veering slightly off to the side as you run.

He sighs and follows you, to where the Gladers are standing around Ben making various ew and gross sounds as if they don't have someone chuck up at least every couple months.

"I ain't cleaning this up for you," Minho tells Ben as he helps him up.

"The whole damn table is gonna stink for months," groans Jeff, looking over the table the Medjacks lent for the bonfire.

"Sorry," mumbles Ben, his words slurring slightly.

"It's alright," you say comfortingly, grabbing a piece of wood you got from god knows where and scraping the stuff into a bin.

"Hey, strong men," you call. "Grab this table and go spray it at the hose."

"Sorry," repeats Ben.

Minho sighs, and shakes his head. "Not your fault you're a lightweight," he says light-heartedly, punching his friend in the arm gently.

He watches as you wash your hands quickly before grabbing a cup of water and bringing it over to Ben.

"Here," you say, handing it to him. "Don't worry, the table's fine. Worst case we'll use it as firewood for next time."

You trip slightly as you step back, and Minho shoots out an arm to grab your waist before he even knows what he's doing. "Alright?" he asks.

You grin, patting his arm. "Guess I'm not as steady as I thought I was."

"Oh really," Minho lifts an eyebrow. "You thought you were steady when you fell into three barrels of potatoes?"

"Ya know, the one time that happens..."

"You mean, just now?"

"Yeah, that one time,"

"Stop with this couples banter," groans Ben. "My head hurts."

"Hungover and drunk at the same time," you say, nodding so sympathetically Minho genuinely can't tell if you're acting or not. "Here, let's get you to bed."

⭒----⭒

"Every month we manage to top the last month's mess," announces Alby, sitting on a table as he addresses the Gladers, most of whom are still waking up and groaning.

He throws out orders for each group, eyes shut and massaging his temples as he speaks, before he gets to; "Y/n, Newt. Gardeners."

"Minho and I already packed up the potatoes from yesterday," begins Alby, and Minho warms as he feels your eyes on him.

"Some of them were crushed under the barrels," Alby continues. "We lost some supplies."

You bite your lip, looking up nervously. You exchange a glance with Newt, and you're wearing identical guilty expressions.

Alby rolls his eyes. "Like scolded children, both of you. Just get to your jobs, go on."

"Thanks mate," says Newt, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Yeah, thanks Alby." You give him a little sheepish smile before leaving.

"I'll check on our leftover supplies," says Newt. "Minho, come with?"

"Wh- sure," says Minho, following behind.

⭒----⭒

"Something on your mind?" asks Newt, shifting some food barrels around.

"You're all too soft on her," mumbles Minho, crossing his arms.

"What's that?"

"You, all of you. With Y/n. You shouldn't be letting her get away with things just cause she smiles, or reward her cause she does one tiny nice thing."

Newt turns around, an amused expression on his face, which is infuriating but also extremely worrying.

"What," snaps Minho.

"Nothing," says Newt, all innocent. "What do you mean 'get away with'?"

"Like just then," says Minho. "She got drunk at the bonfire and made a whole mess, then what? Just flirted her way out of trouble? That's bullshit right there."

"I was with her, I made that mess too."

"You weren't the one who fell into the barrels," Minho fires back.

"And how would you know that? You must've been watching her pretty closely." Newt's full on grinning now, hands on his hips in mock sternness.

Minho deflects. "Whatever, she shouldn't get away with making a mess like that."

"Mate, everyone gets shucking plastered at the bonfires. Don't tell me you've been blind to Zart passing out on the ground every month or how Ben can hardly get through his morning runs."

"I mean, yeah, but people don't knock whole barrels of crop over."

"Winston damn near fell into the fire last month."

"That's different," insists Minho.

"Fine," says Newt, sighing. "Can we go back to when you said she flirts her way out of trouble?"

Minho freezes. "...what?"

"Go on then," says Newt, grin stretching on his face. "What'd you mean?"

Minho averts his gaze, uncharacteristically conflicted. "Ya know, just like... how she had her hands all over Alby last night, when he should've been yelling at her or something."

Newt raises an eyebrow, tilting his head at Minho. "What, did you want her to get in trouble?"

"No! Of course not," protests Minho. "Just- in general, it's not fair. To flirt like that and... you know," he finishes weakly.

"That's not flirting mate, she's just an affectionate drunk."

"Yeah... Whatever."

"You know," begins Newt. "One of these days you'll understand, and the rest of us'll be here, laughing our damn asses off at you."

Minho scrunches up his face, confused.

Newt laughs, tossing an arm around his friend. "Give it time, you'll get it."

⭒----⭒

It's a month later, after the next bonfire, that someone finally has the courage to tell it straight to Minho.

" -and people think she's like, the greatest soul to bless the Glade. It's stupid. The other day, she helped Gally carry something, ya know, cause his shoulder was shucked, and I swear, the whole of the Builders had stars in their eyes." Minho huffs, rolling his eyes.

"And," he continues. "She looks after Greenies like they're incapable of walking. Then suddenly everyone loves her?"

"Everyone loves Newt," Ben points out. "Why aren't you getting all pissed about him?"

"I'm not pissed," argues Minho. "I'm just observing... stating. People give her credit for just being a vaguely decent human being."

"Minho. You sound insane. You're literally listing good things, and twisting them into... whatever bullshit point you're trying to make."

Ben continues. "Y/n is a decent human being. She's kind, caring, better than the rest of us assholes at accommodating the newbies. She helps people out. Is that so bad?"

"I mean, no... but-,"

"But nothing!" interrupts Ben. "Why are you so obsessed, anyway? Haven't you given some thought into why you're hyperaware of her every move?"

"Oi! Are you telling him?" Newt's voice rings out from across the empty dining hall.

"Yes," says Ben, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Cause this is exhausting."

"Shuckin' finally," says Newt, clapping Ben on the shoulder as he slides into the bench beside him. "Someone needed to do it soon."

"What," snaps Minho.

"You have a crush," says Ben, tugging on his hair exasperatedly. "A stupid schoolyard crush- which I don't even have memory of, but you're just so, so-"

"What Ben is trying to say," interrupts Newt. "Is that you like Y/n."

"What? No, I-"

"And," Ben cuts in. "Somewhere in that thick head of yours, your lovey-dovey feelings are fighting with your denial and causing this." He gestures vaguely towards Minho.

"I don't know what you're talking about," retorts Minho.

"Of course not," says Ben flatly. "But now that we've told you, it should only be a matter of time."

"I mean..." Newt struggles for a second, before giving up, shoulders sagging. "Yeah, Ben's summed it up pretty well."

⭒----⭒

A crush? There's no way. Minho frowns to himself, lost in thought as he walks out of the shower block.

The Glade is in the best time of the day right now. It's when everyone's wrapping up the day's work and hitting the showers, before waiting around for dinner.

Minho's showered early today, so the dining area just has a few people idly sitting around chatting. He nods at Newt, who makes eye contact with him across the dining area and starts walking over.

Newt stops though, as someone else slides into the bench across from Minho. It's you.

Minho widens his eyes at Newt, who simply grins and turns to sit somewhere else.

Fine. Minho sighs internally, turning to you. "Y/n, hey."

"Hey," you greet, flicking your hair back. You've got a small towel resting on your shoulders to keep your clothes dry while your hair's still wet. Minho notes this information for no particular reason.

"Listen," you say, leaning forward intently. Pretty. The thought crosses Minho's mind without his consent. You look clean, fresh out of the shower, sunset casting your face in a warm glow. Nope, no way this is happening.

"Uh Minho, ya with me?"

" 'course," he responds quickly. "What's up?"

You grin, clearly seeing through him, but you continue anyway. "So, Ben tells me the forest around the Runners' hut is really pretty. Flowers and all. Is that true?"

"Yeah," says Minho. "The pond is nice too."

You hum, nodding in thought. "Take me sometime?"

"Yeah, sure," says Minho.

You know what, shuck it.

"Do you wanna go now?" he offers, resolve clicking inside him.

Minho's heart picks up at your smile, beaming at him. "Yeah, let's go."

⭒----⭒

"I can't believe you've never been here," says Minho, standing with his hands in his pockets as you wander around the forest.

"I can't believe no one ever brought me here," you reply. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah..." He trails off, watching you bend and smile at some purple orchids. "...beautiful." Fuck.

"Can I be honest with you, Minho?" he hears you ask.

"Of course," he responds, leaning on a tree.

"I was kinda worried," you begin, still looking down at the orchids. "That you didn't like me, or something."

Minho's eyebrows fly up. "Wh-"

"I just- I wanted to clear it up. Cause you seem like a cool person, and I'd like for us to be... friends." You sound uncertain, and Minho feels like an absolute shit.

"No!" As your head whips up, he hastily continues, "I mean, yes, of course, just-"

He groans. "It's my fault, I'm just- I was stupid. An idiot, actually. I've been-"

You've got a confused expression as Minho huffs out a frustrated sigh. "It wasn't anything like... what you're thinking. I just had some other feelings- thoughts, in the way. And I guess it came off like I didn't like you. But I do. I like you a lot," he admits.

You let out a soft laugh. "I'm glad. I didn't want it to be," you gesture vaguely. "Ya know."

Minho smiles, and seems to shake himself slightly, nodding towards a tree near the Runner's hut. "Come check out these ones."

He leads you to a tree with white flowers peeking through the leaves.

"Hey, Minho."

"Yeah?"

"What'd you mean 'other feelings'?"

Um. "What?" He asks nervously.

"You said there were 'other feelings' in the way. What did that mean?"

"Just... in general," he says weakly. "Feelings, thoughts. Etcetera."

You frown slightly at him, confused, but you're distracted as he reaches up to the tree.

"These're Ben's pride and joy," he says idly, plucking one of the flowers. "A damn pain to grow at first, but now they just bloom on their own."

You swallow as he turns to you, holding up the flower.

"Here."

Your heart beats fast as he steps into your space, and tucks the flower into your hair, behind your ear.

Neither of you move. Minho's hand is still hovering at your cheek, your face tilted up to meet his eyes, open and earnest.

Oh. Oh.

You break first, ducking your head down. "So, uh-"

"Yeah," says Minho, hand rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

He takes a deep breath. "So I, uh- I don't know what I'm doing, like... at all. Ya know, Ben and Newt had to sit me down and... whatever. I just- I like you," he confesses in a rush. "And I know I've done a shucked job of showing it, but I really, really like you."

You huff out a laugh, incredulous. "Minho, I like you too. That's mostly why I wanted to get closer to you."

"Oh," says Minho. "Well... do you think we could go on a date sometime? Maybe here, with the flowers. We could do dinner?"

You smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great," says Minho, grinning in a way he knows looks stupid (he doesn't care). "Cool.

"I guess we should be getting back, then." Minho gestures back to where the Glade is probably eating dinner now.

"Yeah," you agree, starting off behind him.

"Minho?" He turns at your voice, looking down at the hand you've extended, palm-up.

As he puts his arm out in the same way, slightly confused, you slip your hand in his, interlocking your fingers. You see his wide grin as you glance to your side.

"Hey, Y/n, think that date can be tomorrow?"

"Yes, absolutely."

Went full teenager throwback for this one - the awkwardness is tangible

Thanks for reading <3 Requests are open as always :)