#tmr minho x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heliads · 5 months ago

Text

want you, need you - minho

Ever since you became a Med-Jack, Minho can't seem to stop collecting random injuries that absolutely require your attention. You might be catching on.

masterlist

The Med-Jack hut is either overwhelmingly busy or frustratingly slow, no in between. There are days when every single room in the place is crammed full of patients– somehow, every Slicer manages to cut themselves, and every Builder breaks a bone– and you wish you had picked any other job than this one. The busy days are rough. You start wondering what might happen if you stopped being able to put people back together as quickly as they fall apart. You think about the endless cycle of injury and healing until everyone wears out entirely, a map of bandages and skin pressed thin like dead leaves.

Those are the hopeless days. Then, you’ll have a dry spell, when everyone manages to get their stuff together and no one complains of sprained ankles or excessive sunburns. At that point, you start twiddling your thumbs and mindlessly organizing and reorganizing the medical supplies. By the end, you almost start wishing people would get hurt just so you’d have something to do. It’s an uncharitable thought, certainly, and one you regret once you’re stuck in the middle of another hurricane of aching Gladers, but when there’s nothing else to do, it comes nonetheless.

You’ve found yourself in the middle of another boring week. For the past few days, the Slicers have remembered how to hold their knives so they chop the animals and not themselves, the Builders hit their nails with their hammers instead of their thumbs, and the Runners don’t give themselves cramps and stay in perfect health.

Well. Not every Runner.

Even during the most boring stretches of your admittedly short career as a Med-Jack, you can guarantee that you’ll have one specific patient. Just like clockwork, every few days a certain dark-haired, teasing someone shadows your door, complaining of overworked tendons, pulled hamstrings, heatstroke, and every other medical condition under the sun. If Minho can think it up, he’ll say he’s got it.

It’s honestly becoming ridiculous. For someone who’s such a capable Runner, it is truly remarkable that he survives so many ailments. One would think he would give up running entirely if it gave him this much grief. Yet every day, Minho sets out for the Maze with a cheerful disposition, and at least two times a week, he appears in the Med-Jack hut, sporting some new injury that materialized at some point during the day.

So, when you look up from labeling the medicine cabinet for what must be the dozenth time this month, and realize that you haven’t seen the Keeper of the Runners in a few days, you know that it’s about time for him to come down with the flu, a severe migraine, or maybe both at once.

True to form, you’ve barely finished going through the medications on one shelf of the cabinet when Jeff, one of your fellow Med-Jacks, comes into the room. “You have a patient,” he says impatiently. “Guess who?”

You roll your eyes, although you can’t help a small smile. “Can’t you handle Minho yourself?”

Jeff gives you a look. “I tried. He told me he wanted to wait for a professional. Figures.”

You snort. “You’ve been here longer than I have.”

“I told him that,” Jeff complains. “This might surprise you, but he didn’t care.”

“Tell him again,” you say, turning back to the pill bottle you’re labeling. “I’m busy.”

Jeff heaves a dramatic sigh. “I’m not wasting my time with that. He’s your problem, go fix him.”

You shoot him a confused glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” Jeff retorts, reaching over to grab the bottle out of your hands. “Ever since you started here, Minho randomly comes over all the time. You know he used to hate visiting the Med-Jacks before you arrived? Now he can’t stop showing up.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you protest weakly.

Jeff sighs again, so deeply you swat him on the shoulder. “That’s klunk and we both know it. The data doesn’t lie, Y/N.”

“There’s no data,” you argue, but Jeff’s already waving you out of the room.

You make a face at him, then go down the hall until you find Minho waiting in one of the smaller rooms meant for patients. He’s poking at some supplies on a small table in a corner of the room, but he straightens up excitedly when he sees you.

“Doc! I’m so glad you’re here.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “What have you done to yourself now, Minho?”

“That’s no way to treat a patient,” Minho frowns exaggeratedly. “Whatever happened to bedside manner?”

“You got bedside manner the first ten times you showed up for no reason,” you tell him pointedly. “After that, you get whatever I feel like. You should be happy I’m still giving you bandages. We only have so many, you know that? Maybe I’ll start charging you a fee.”

“I can pay,” Minho says lazily, leaning forward so you can feel his breath hot on the side of your face. One of his hands starts to curl around your side, pulling you closer to him.

Dangerous, he is. You idly push him away with your palm, pretending to examine the supplies he’d been poking at earlier so you have time for the heat to leave your face. “How about you just tell me what’s wrong with you this time?”

Minho sighs dramatically. “Well, since you care so much, I’ll have to tell you that I’ve broken an ankle. It hurts so bad. This might be it for me, Y/N.”

You arch a brow. “Which ankle?”

He pauses a moment, thinking. “Left.”

“You’re standing on it just fine right now,” you point out.

Immediately, Minho shifts all of his weight onto his right leg, grabbing the back of a nearby chair for support. “No, I’m not. Look, I can’t bear the pain. It hurts.”

You just look at him. Minho looks back at you, unable to stop the corners of his lips from curling up into a proud half-smile. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” You ask.

He gasps. “Y/N. Are you trying to discredit your own patients? Some Med-Jack you are. I bet Clint would trust me.”

“Then go talk to Clint,” you say, making for the door.

Minho hurries over, flinging out an arm to close the door before you can open it. “Wait, wait. I didn’t mean it, sweetheart. You’re the only Med-Jack for me, I swear it. Clint is nothing to me.”

You take an obvious glance towards his feet. “That ankle sure seems to be healing fast, huh? You moved over here like it was nothing.”

Minho leans his back against the door. “Alright, you got me. Nothing’s wrong with the ankle. Still, my lungs have been feeling exhausted lately, that might be something–”

“That’s because you run everywhere,” you say, grinning in spite of yourself at his antics. “Come on, Minho, you’ll have to get a better excuse someday.”

“My bad for wanting to see you,” he returns. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever. I miss you,” he adds a little quietly.

It makes you smile in earnest this time. “So you’re here to be a good friend, then.”

“Yeah,” Minho says, and you might be kidding yourself but you swear he sounds almost disappointed, “A good friend. That’s me.”

You tap him gently on the arm to get him to move from the door. “How about I promise to find you straight after my shift ends, and you agree to leave without using any more of my medical supplies? Jeff’s going to kill you if we run through anymore bandages, I swear it.”

Minho pretends to think this over. “Straight after? You promise?”

“I promise,” you repeat. “So? Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” he intones solemnly, and at last lets you open the door and usher him out, but only after extracting one more promise that you won’t delay to talk to Newt or anyone else once Jeff lets you out.

When you get back to the storage room, you find Jeff waiting for you, grinning knowingly from ear to ear. It bothers you for some reason, not the fact that he’s on this topic again but worse, the thought that he might not be entirely wrong for it.

“Wipe that look off your face,” you mutter.

Jeff’s grin just broadens. “How was your star patient?”

“Fantastic,” you assure him, “And I’d be fantastic too, if you could stop bothering me with whatever weird thing you’re thinking about right now.”

Jeff shrugs exaggeratedly. “Of course. I don’t know why anyone would think about Minho being unable to go three days without talking to you. That would be crazy.”

“It would be,” you add darkly. People in the Glade have said that you have a tendency for killer death stares. However, Jeff seems to be impervious to it, because he just keeps sitting there, proud as anything, as if he were in the right about this.

As if. This isn’t the first time your friends have tried to suggest there’s something going on between you and Minho, and the honest truth is that nothing has happened at all. Yeah, Minho’s your best friend, and yeah, your days are significantly better when you see as much of him as possible. What about it? It doesn’t mean a thing. Life is hard. If you want to talk to the boy who makes you laugh like no one else, you should be able to do it in peace.

You can’t deny that the rumors stay on your mind, and recently, you haven’t been able to deny them with as much conviction as usual. You’re not blind, Minho is good-looking, and maybe you start thinking about something past friendship when he makes another excuse to get in your personal space when you’re sitting together by the fire or walking through the Glade.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before, but as good as it might be to have Minho in every way that matters, you’ll still be perfectly happy with just the one. You can’t risk your friendship, even if, two drinks of Gally’s brew into a Bonfire Night, you start thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, or worse still, when Minho drops by the Med-Jack hut again, you convince yourself that maybe he’s not just doing it because he’s a good friend but because he wants you just like you want him.

It can’t be, though. For one thing, Minho is notoriously confident. If he liked you, he would have told you by now. You’ve seen him argue with Gally for the fun of it, not to mention the fact that he chose to be a Runner of all things. Minho lives on a constant adrenaline rush. Compared to what he does on a daily basis, confessing his feelings has to be nothing major. If he wanted to tell you, he would, and he hasn’t, so obviously there isn’t anything to tell at all.

For another, and this might just be in your own head, but Minho is so brave and capable that he seems to eclipse everything around him. Maybe it’s just the force of your own perspective, but you swear the entire Glade orbits around him. When he gets back from a run, he’s immediately swarmed by Gladers asking him about how it was, if he saw anything important. He’s always the first person people talk to, the immediate choice for a dinnertime companion. Minho could have anything he wanted in the Glade. So why would he want you?

You’ve managed to force the whole thing from your mind as best you can. Minho is your friend. At least you can have him like that, even if it kills you sometimes to look at him and imagine all the ways you would love him if he would just give you the chance. Any good medic can keep their feelings internal when they need it, and you’re the best there is.

You meet Minho later that night as promised, and you do your utmost to pretend everything is normal. You stay with him until the sun sinks below the horizon, until the Doors slam shut, until the moon begins its familiar path across the sky. You talk the whole while, idle chatter that occasionally drifts off into comfortable quiet. You’ve never been able to do that with anyone before, feel so at ease that you can stay silent for minutes at a time and have it not be awkward, but with Minho, it’s so simple. Then again, you can hardly remember anyone at all. Maybe there was someone in the past who mattered to you just as much as Minho does now. Even without your memories, though, that feels impossible. Minho could have no substitute, not to you.

You’re expecting the next day to pass in a breeze of idle hours, but around midafternoon, your dreary day of organization and the occasional bad paper cut is harshly interrupted by the sound of chaos outside. There’s shouting for a Med-Jack, and then several people are rushing someone in. It’s a Runner, apparently, you hear the details as you run for supplies. The Maze started moving during the day and he got hurt.

You can tell from the way people start nervously looking at you that it’s bad. At first, they don’t say any names, but then you burst into the chamber that serves as your operating room and you know that it’s worse than you could have possibly imagined, for not only does it seem like there’s enough blood to drench the Glade, but the victim isn’t Ben or one of the other Runners, it’s Minho. Your Minho. Your Minho, bleeding out on your table, who will need you to save him.

You stand there for one fragile moment, drenched in horror, then spring into action. Clint and Jeff have surfaced by now, and you direct them to anesthetize Minho. You want him to feel as little of this as possible. After carefully cutting open his shirt to determine the source of all that awful blood, you determine that it’s not as bad as you thought, more of a broad surface wound than a deep puncture. That much blood loss is dangerous, though, and he’ll need several stitches to close the flesh.

About an hour and a half later, you’re done. You and the other Med-Jacks lean back, panting heavily. Your hands and clothes are smeared with red, but color has crept back into Minho’s cheeks, and he’s starting to breathe evenly again.

“How long until he wakes up?” You ask Clint.

He checks a nearby clock, then Minho’s pulse. “Fifteen minutes, probably, but he won’t be fully conscious for up to an hour.”

You nod. “That’s good. Clear out, you guys. Get some rest.”

Jeff stops by you on the way out. “You can stay with him if you want. He’d be glad to see you when he wakes up.”

You let out a slow breath. “Thanks, Jeff.”

He pats you on the back then leaves to wash up. You spare the time to scrub your hands and get on a fresh change of clothes, but head back to Minho as soon as you can. Ben was with him when the accident happened, he said that everything happened so fast he hardly knew what went down. You don’t want Minho to wake up alone and confused, covered in bandages and unable to shake the scent of blood.

Once the immediate danger is over, you’re left sitting in a chair by Minho’s cot. His chest is swathed in bandages, but no red has flowered through them yet, which is a good sign. As you watch, the fingers on his right hand start to twitch. Clint said he would start to stir around now, and you’re glad to see the signs of movement. Watching him there– so still, so motionless– it made you wonder if he would wake up. It made you wonder if there was any way you could survive if he didn’t.

Minho is starting to make small sounds of distress under his breath, so you lean over and take his hand, squeezing it carefully but comfortingly. “Hey, hey. It’s me. You’re safe.”

You hear the ghost of your name in his whisper, and then Minho starts to quiet down again, restless rustles turning back into quiet breathing. You check his heart rate with your free hand and are glad to see it returning to normal, shaking off the lethargy of the anesthesia.

Minho sleeps for a little longer. Afraid to upset him, you keep your hand in his. You can tell when he wakes again, because his fingers start to press against yours. Consciousness comes upon him like a wave beating upon the shore. All of a sudden, his eyes are blinking open, and then he’s trying to sit up too fast and is forced back down to the cot by a bout of dizziness.

“Easy,” you tell him, pressing him back. “Don’t try to sit yet. The meds aren’t out of your system.”

“Y/N?” Minho asks, voice hoarse.

Hearing the scratchiness of his voice, so totally removed from the usual confident cadence of his words, makes your throat close up. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

“Hey, Doc,” he says roughly. “Jeff won’t give me klunk about the bandages now, will he?”

“No, he won’t,” you say, torn between laughter and outright sobs. “How do you feel? Any pain?”

“All good,” Minho tells you. “What about Ben? Is he okay?”

“Ben is fine,” you assure him. “You’re the one we’re worried about, Minho. I knew the Maze was dangerous, but like this–”

He cuts you off, squeezing your hand. “Hey, all in a day’s work. I knew the risks when I went in.”

You shake your head, hot tears starting to well up in your eyes. “No, no. This isn’t fair. You’re not supposed to get hurt during the day. Minho, I didn’t even know anything happened, and then they brought you in, and there was so much blood– I thought I was going to lose you, and I didn’t even get to tell you–”

Even in the midst of your tears, you have the presence of mind to stop yourself before you give yourself away. It’s just– the thought had not abandoned you the whole time he slept, even the whole time you operated, that you could lose him without ever having him at all.

Minho shakes his head as best he can. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m okay.”

“But you almost weren’t,” you whisper. “What if Ben hadn’t been able to get you back in time?”

You take a ragged breath, trying to keep the tears at bay, but it’s no use. Your shoulders shake, and Minho leans up slightly, as if drawn to it. To you.

“You’re pretty even when you cry,” Minho says, one hand weakly rising up to brush a tear from your cheek. “How is that fair?”

You laugh haltingly, in between the tears. “Barely awake five minutes, and you’re already flirting.”

He grins. “It’s all I want to do.”

If this were any other day, you would be able to brush off that comment, but something about this moment, this space– no one else in the room, Minho’s palm still tenderly cradling your cheek, your heart still erratic from the stress– you can’t help but turn the words over and over in your mind. All I want to do. All I want to do.

“Minho–” You start.

“Shh,” he says. “You already know that. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen through it. My smart girl. All those times I came to see you. Don’t say you haven’t realized.”

“Minho–”

“Newt says I’m being stupid. That I shouldn’t keep trying to have something that isn’t mine. But I’ll tell you something, Y/N, I’m selfish, and I’m greedy. I want you, and I don’t want to think about you with anyone else but me.”

Your breath is harsh in your chest, heart beating so loud you’re certain they must hear it echoing all across the Glade.

Minho’s eyes are fixed directly on yours. He sits up carefully, enough to reach his other hand up past your waist to the small of your back. “Tell me you don’t want me, or I’m not going to stop trying to keep you. Tell me to stop.”

Your lips part as you try to form an answer. Minho’s eyes dart down to the movement, and they only rise to your gaze with great reluctance. “I don’t want you to stop,” you tell him at last. “I want you, Minho. Only you.”

Two years now, you’ve known Minho. You’ve seen him proud and defiant, laughing and joyous and as happy as anyone could hope to be. Still, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile as brightly as he does right now, right before he kisses you.

Every touch is electric, and this is the most powerful of all. Your mind is reeling from the moment your lips meet, sending you far beyond the reaches of the Maze to the sky itself. You could be floating forever if you wanted, and you only start to gradually come back to earth when he slowly breaks away.

“Minho,” you say, hesitating over every syllable.

“Y/N,” he mimics, lips turned up in an irrepressible smile.

“They’re going to want to know that you’re awake. I promised I’d get the others,” you tell him.

He considers this for a moment. “They don’t need to know immediately, do they?”

You smile. “No.”

Minho’s eyes glint. “Then kiss me again. You can tell them after.”

It seems like a fair deal to you. You kiss him to make sure of it.

maze runner tag list: @blondsauduun, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss,

@hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver, @il0vebeingdelulu

all tags list:

@wordsarelife

491 notes · View notes

fannyspammy · 2 years ago

Text

Third Row Back

Minho x Reader

Summary: Minho & y/n get freaky during a celebration (+ a little Newt x y/n tease)

Warnings: PWP, public sex, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink (cuz y’all know Minho would have one), exhibitionism/voyeurism

A/N: writing for minho made me miss my fav sassy glader so here is smt spicy with him. also y/n is a freak. that is it.

[not my gif]

It was dark apart from the warm glow of the bonfire, and even that illuminated only so much. By the third row of logs, you’d barely be visible— those sitting in the front row would get all the light. Which was perfect for what Minho had planned for y/n.

Y/n sat comfortably between his legs in that convenient third row, his arms wrapped tightly around her. His fingers played with the hem of her short skirt, one she’d made herself for occasions such as this.

Minho whispered against her neck, “I love this skirt on you. You should wear it more.”

Y/n laughed. “You want me to wear this around the Glade while you’re off running around the maze all day?”

“Okay, maybe not.” He planted a kiss on her neck. “You cold, babe?” Minho asked in her ear.

Before even hearing y/n’s response he reached into a bag he’d placed behind him, pulling out a large blanket. The blanket could easily fit three under it, so it wrapped around them no problem, a good portion of it dragging onto the ground.

The first round of Gally’s brew came around, and soon all the other Gladers were drunk. Soon everyone was inebriated, & wrestling matches began in the firelight. Minho saw his opportunity.

He placed wet, open kisses on y/n’s neck, and she threw her head back to give more access. Sucking on her sweet spot, he took both breasts into his hands and massaged them gently, playing with her nipples every so often.

Y/n bit her lip to stifle her moans. “Minho, everyone is around.”

“Don’t worry babe, it’s so dark you can barely see us back here, everyone is drunk & focused on what’s happening around the fire, & you’re fully covered by the blanket.” He bit down on her skin and sucked hard.

“You thought this through, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” he smirked against the bruise that was forming where he sucked her.

Minho slid his hands down her abdomen to her core. With one hand he parted her folds to give more access to her clit, and with the other he began to stroke slowly, softly touching the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Y/n’s breath hitched at the sensation, the feel of his touch amidst the party almost overwhelming her senses.

The boy slowly dragged his finger lower, dipping slightly into her entrance. Y/n felt his cock harden against her lower back as he felt how wet she already was for him.

“Turn to me,” he commanded.

Y/n obeyed, turning her head to meet his. He enveloped her in a passionate kiss, tongues wrestling for dominance. His fingers continued their work on her clit, rubbing firmly, and y/n moaned into the kiss, doing her best to keep her volume at a minimum.

There was a lot of noise around them, with all the shouts & hollers & conversations going on, so she wouldn’t have to be fully silent.

As Minho quickened the pace y/n instinctively opened her legs, hooking them behind his calves. As his access widened, Minho brought his other hand to her soaking entrance, sliding two fingers in with little resistance. Y/n arched her back as he curled his fingers inside her, hitting her g-spot.

“Mm, Minho,” she whispered, calling his name as loudly as she could without drawing attention.

Pumping in and out of her, y/n rolled her hips lightly against his hands, creating as much friction as she could with little movement.

Y/n laid her head back against his shoulder, panting through the pleasure. She watched the boys dancing by the fire, and the groups having conversations. The thought of any of them catching the graphic scene playing in the shadows at any moment excited her, and she rolled her hips harder.

Panting through light moans, she cried his name again. “Mm, Minho.. oh- yes, yes baby, yes.”

“You’re so fucking hot babe.” Minho added a third finger and rubbed her clit harder. From there it only took about five minutes before y/n came undone. She continued her faint moans as he pleasured her through her high, the blanket beginning to slide down her shoulders.

When she finished she pulled the blanket back up with a satisfied sigh. Minho brought his fingers to his lips and sucked the juice off of them, murmuring about how he loved her taste.

Then, the crowd stood up and gathered tighter around the fire, entranced by an intense wrestling match between the latest greenie & one of the other boys. Y/n saw an opportunity.

She quickly turned herself around so she was straddling Minho, keeping the blanket covering as much as she could. As she undid the button of his pants the boy raised his eyebrows. “What are you doing babe?”

“It’s your turn,” she said simply, freeing his hard cock from his underwear. “They’re all distracted right now. But if they catch us… then they can watch.” She smirked seductively, lowering herself onto his length.

Minho groaned in pleasure as he bottomed out, and y/n wasted no time. She rode him steadily, moaning louder this time, matching the volume of the crowd. Quickening her pace, Minho grabbed her ass to support her, helping her deepen her thrusts.

“Ooh, yes baby, just like that. You ride daddy’s dick so well,” he whispered into her ear, sticking his tongue in afterwards and exploring.

“Ooh M-Minho.. oh, yes.. I love how you feel inside me,” she increased her speed again, squeezing her walls against his length. “Oh, daddy, you feel so good! Mm, I love taking your big, fat cock in my tight pussy.”

Minho began to thrust his hips into her harder, keeping one hand on her lower back and the other on the log to steady himself. He panted his words.

“Yeah? You like that? You like taking daddy’s cock like a good girl?”

The blanket was at their waists now, barely covering where their bodies became one.

“Yes! Oh, yes, daddy, yes! Yes! Yes!”

Y/n came for the second time, and Minho followed shortly after. They rode each other through their highs, calling each other’s names as they did, not even caring who heard them.

She slowly pulled herself off of Minho, a mixture of their juices spilling out of her as she turned around to sit with her back against his chest again.

They scanned the scene. The wrestling match was still going, seemingly at its own climax, and the Gladers cheered as the greenie gained dominance.

So no one saw, y/n thought to herself. She hated to admit it, but a part of her wished someone had.

Then, the fire roared stronger for just a second, and in the flash of light, a couple dozen feet away, in the third row of sitting logs, y/n saw him.

Newt sat alone, eyes closed with head thrown back, vigorously pumping his hard length, his lips parted as he moaned and panted in solitude. She couldn’t him, but she could read her name on his lips.

Y/n.

As he levelled his head his eyes opened & met hers.

She smirked at him knowingly, and then turned to kiss Minho, making sure Newt could see how her tongue slipped into his mouth. Dropping the blanket, y/n palmed Minho through his pants. Y/n continued kissing him with one eye open, only pulling away when she saw Newt finish.

3K notes · View notes

lowkeyrobin · 8 months ago

Text

MINHO ; just like the rain

summary ; youre the rain to minhos storm clouds

warnings ; language, talk about mental health and self hate, mentions of death

track ; rain, sleep token

word count ; 874

masterlist

Minho was fairly reserved and didn't talk to many when he had the opportunity to. He'd lost friends, his memories, his life, coming to the Glade. He lost everything and for what, to run around a giant maze for the rest of his life? He was trapped in a cycle of sleep, eat, run, map, eat, and sleep, and he had been for years now. He felt worthless, and hated himself deep down. Thomas and Newt knew but didn't know how to help over his shrugging off of the situation. They decided if he needed to talk, he would if he wanted to or if he was ready.

But, upon your arrival, he found some sort of comfort in you. Your calm and friendly demeanor just had him spill himself one night at another Greenie bonfire. You listened to him talk for hours and gave him a whole motivational speech and reassured him he'd be alright.

And now, he could finally say that the viscous cycle of overworking and hating himself was over, and it had been since the first time you smiled at him.

You were the rain to his storm clouds.

Just like the rain, you cast the dust -his self hatred- into nothing. You washed the salt in his wounds from his hands.

You had your hooks in him, drawing him closer and closer each and everyday. He could see you in his dreams and in his fate, yet still deny the persistent questions from Newt and Thomas, and even Fry and Winston.

He went out of his way after spending hours in the map room just to talk to you and hear all about your day. Even the sound of your voice comforted him and sent a shiver, almost a tingling sensation, up his spine and into his brain.

He jogs to your side, wondering what you're up to at this hour at night. You snuck out in the middle of the night, wanting to feel the cold, wet rain against your skin for a bit. It wasn't pouring but it wasn't lightly sprinkling either, a fair amount of water soaking you.

His feet almost fall beneath him due to the mud under the grass, making him lightly gasp as he reaches out to you, now turning around as you heard him.

"Y/n!" He gasps, recalculating his footing to not fall.

You quickly reach your arm out for him and catch him at the forearm. You steadily help him back on his feet with a smile and chuckle while his face heats up from embarrassment.

"You good?" You ask, wiping away any stray rain around your eyes before it seeped in, not wanting to try and be bothered by it in the moment.

He nods, looking away for a moment. "What're you doing out here?"

You shrug, loosely hanging onto his wrist, not noticing, although he does. "Enjoying the rain"

"Why?"

"...It's nice, I guess. Makes me feel like there's hope outside the Glade"

He nods, seeing and feeling you drop his wrist. He slings an arm around your shoulder, a usual act of affection between you two.

You hear the rain pitter and patter against the Homestead as the force of the little raindrops increases. However, it’s soothing. You feel like you can stand here with Minho forever. He provided an odd comfort, even when silent, as just knowing he’s there beside you could rid you of any worries or fears.

"Are you not cold?" He asks, feeling goosebumps rise along his arms and legs.

You shake your head no with a shrug, "Why, are you?" You tease with a smile.

"No, no, no. Definitely not." He defensively speaks, playing into the joke as he retracts his arm from your shoulders and crosses them. His sassy personality was showing through even in the middle of the night. "I'm never cold, ever"

"I'd be really concerned if you were never cold, Minho. Maybe we should send a note down with the box asking about it" You speak, playing around with him. "Maybe we should stop hanging out. What if it's a contagious disease?"

"No, no, I mean, just get cold! Just like, not around you," He shrugs, taking back his last words.

"Oh?" You question, your lips curling into a smirk. "Around me?"

"I, uhm-"

"Hm?"

Before you can process what he's doing, Minho swiftly moves his hands to your jawline and smashes your lips together. You swear you hear a lightning strike as he does so, and rest your hands on his shoulders, not denying this new act of affection. You could get used to this.

You're the first to pull away, shocked and confused.

"Minho?"

He's silent, face burned up as he can't look at you.

"Min-"

"Don't talk about it"

You take a moment to think before patting him on the shoulder, turning back towards the Homestead.

"I'm going back to bed. Enjoy the rain"

He nods, crossing his arms again as he looks out towards the Deadheads again. He hears you slowly trudge off across the Glade, the squishing of the mud and wet grass below you drowning out as you walk further and further away.

"Damnit"

"Language!"

"How the hell did you just hear me?!"

#lowkeyrobin #tmr minho x reader #minho x reader #tmr minho #minho tmr #minho tmr x reader #the maze runner x reader #maze runner x gn reader #maze runner x reader #maze runner oneshot #the maze runner #maze runner #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader

528 notes · View notes

sehnsuchts-trunken · 9 months ago

Text

Still Alive

Minho x reader

tw! cranks, talking abt death, trauma, um that's about it ig. it's an apocalypse you know what you're getting into

all the apocalypse au in my head has reminded me of maze runner so. this is happening

tmr masterlist

You're clinging to him with tear-stained cheeks and shaky fingers, mind reeling and frozen at the same time as you try to forget the images of those things, those inhuman things, clawing and grasping at you out of the pitch-black dark. Those contorted faces, those lifeless, black eyes, that disgusting, rotten flesh-

It hasn't been as real until now.

The flare had been a concept, an abstract concept that had doomed the unfamiliar world you were pushed into. For a few days, it had just been that, looming over everything, but still just stories, just pictures, just ideas.

Now it's real. It's not only a threat, it's reality. It had almost gotten hold of you.

Your fingers cramp into the collar of Minho's shirt, pull him into you, panting and terrified and barely safe. You drag him down to you, push yourself against him and kiss him with all the strength you can muster.

He's here. He's here and he's alive.

Your lips work against his frantically. He's alive. You're alive. You're alive. Your arms cross behind his neck, shaky fingers resting against his shoulders, to hold him close, to feel him here, right in front of you, to convince yourself of his pulse and his breathing and his warmth.

He's here. He's alive. You haven't lost him. He hasn't lost you.

He grabs you by the waist and hugs you close, pulls you so firmly into him that you can feel each inch of skin pressed against you. You don't realise you're crying again until you taste salt in your kisses. Minho loosens his grip on you only to bring his arms up and graze his thumbs across your cheeks, brushing your tears away.

You don't know just how long you're standing there, kissing him, reminding yourself that you're not dead yet, that he's not dead yet. It's long enough for your heartbeat to steady, for your hands to stop trembling. Long enough that the kiss turns slow - you're not sure when, only that he's cradling you in his arms again, palms splayed out to touch as much of you as possible, your fingers brushing through his hair in no hurry. He's here. He's here with you, for you.

"Not to interrupt-"

You flinch hard at the voice, jumping away from Minho and spinning in his arms, your heart skipping a beat and then thundering twice as fast again. You only relax when you see Thomas standing there, a few feet away and with his hands up in surrender, Minho's arms tightening around you once more and pulling you back against his chest.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't want to scare you. We just- We should get moving."

#x reader #tmr #maze runner #minho tmr x reader #minho x reader #maze runner minho x reader #the maze runner #maze runner x reader #tmr x reader #tmr minho x reader #minho maze runner x reader

736 notes · View notes

sovksluv · 8 months ago

Text

Eurydice

𖤐 . pairing - death cure!Minho x fem!reader

𖤐 . summary - someone dies basically so yeah

𖤐 . content includes - um major character death !

𖤐 . word count - 493

𖤐 . taglist - @sluttysammyy @delilahandfiction

𖤐 . a/n - sorry this is so short, but i also randomly got this idea (instead of working on all the asks i have 🧍🏻 ) (also thank you for all the asks i have <3 ) REPOST BECAUSE EURYDICE DID NOT DESERVE TO FLOP LIKE IT DID

"no, no, no, no, no. hey-hey. you're okay. c'mon you're okay." he stuttered, inevitable tears leaving burning streaks down his face, though he ignored them. "hey, hey. baby you- you're okay. just-" he inhaled shakily, his breath getting caught in his throat. "look at me, baby. just look at me. you're okay."

he was beginning to believe that the repeating chants were more for him rather than you, the rational side of his brain rapidly failing, eyes constantly blurring and glossing over. Minho held your body close in his arms, his left arm gently cradling your head, which was shaking with his own nerves.

"Minho," you whispered out, barely audible with a sickly paleness to your face, small sticky streaks of blood seeping through the corner of your mouth. there were bullets firing, screaming, shouting, bombs going off, flames exploding from every corner, but the booming sound of his own heartbeat in his head overthrew all other noises.

Minho quivered, mouth dry, empty, despite his head running with thoughts moving thousands of miles a second, quickly flooding in one after the other. he allowed his eyes to droop down to your torso, the metallic crimson already engulfing most of your white undershirt, taunting him with its intensity.

it was unfair. your being had plagued his mind, being the only thing that kept him going. you kept him company in his dreams, distracting him from what they really were - nightmares. but nothing could distract him from this one. this very real nightmare. after six long months of torture, nothing had compared to this. finally being able to hold you in his arms again, only for it to be the last time.

from the moment you reunited, the two of you had yet to lose physical contact, swearing you would never let each other go again. that is why the moment Minho felt your hand abruptly pull from his, he knew it was time. he knew it was over. the ghost of your warmth lingered deep in his soul as the coldness drowned yours, your body succumbing to the inevitable darkness the moment the two of you were presented with the brightest of lights.

your path to forever freedom had been carved, ready for you, yet here you were, on an unexpected secret passage suddenly disrupting your long journey, where your story was coming to an end. the yells of anguish and silent sobs from your friends had no place in Minho's crazed mind, being too occupied yet utterly empty, despite everything he longed to say.

you were so close. one step away from the life you were destined to live together. but fate had been decided, your string had already been cut. and now the small threads of your yarn of life pooled on the ground as the blood seeped from your wound, the shattered body of your lover left to wash away the pieces and walk away without you by his side.

308 notes · View notes

rainydaydreamsideblog · 2 years ago

Text

(The Maze Runner) Spending a Rainy Day With Him

(Author’s Note: In my fics/imagines/headcanons, Gladers are aged up, and also movie version...)

Thomas: Heavy rain usually puts most of the Glade jobs on hold. Everyone will find a tree or covered structure to sit under and wait until the rain stops. Wherever you are, Thomas will come find you. He gently takes your hand in his, brown eyes meeting yours in a silent request. You know that look very well. With a smile, you nod. The both of you go back to his hammock and climb in together, tangled up in a somewhat crowded mess of limbs, but it’s cozy. He likes having you close like this. Likes hearing your heartbeat, watching you breathe, and listening to you hum a gentle tune. It helps put him at ease. He’ll lay there with your head on his chest as it rises and falls, his hand running up and down your back soothingly while you both listen to the rain on the roof. Every now and then, he’ll give you a squeeze or bestow a forehead kiss. It’ll be a quiet time, at least for a little while. After sorting through thoughts, he might start a conversation if you haven’t already. It might be about your jobs. It could be about the strange dreams either of you were having. Or it could just remain quiet for a little longer.

Newt: When he feels the first drops fall on his cheek, he glances up with brows furrowed and lips parted to see if any more follow. Upon realizing it’s the beginning of a downpour, he tells the others to pack up the tools and get out of the rain. He’s already wondering if you found shelter already or not. He’ll be keeping an eye out for you as he walks to the nearest structure. It’s not like he thinks you’re in any danger or anything. He just wants to be sure you’re alright. He’ll be glad when you do find him, and a little smirk of amusement will grace his lips when he sees the state you’re in. Your clothes are a little wet from the dash in the rain, body shivering from the chill, and skin glistening. Newt will put an arm around you and draw you to his warm side, remaining like that as you both stand at the edge of the covered structure and gaze out at the rainy Glade. The time will be filled with quiet conversation with your faces inches apart, intent on each other’s pleasant company while the others goof around or chat behind you. He’s not super crazy about kissing in front of others, but he’ll glance over his shoulder to make sure no one’s paying attention before leaning in for a tender kiss.

Minho: He’s just about to head into the Maze when the downpour starts. Shuck. Nothing like a rainy day to dampen a run. If he gets caught in the rain while already in the Maze, it’s one thing. But if it hits before he leaves, then he’ll just take the day off. If he’s entirely honest, he doesn’t mind the break. He heads back, removes his gear, and decides to pay you a surprise visit. Runners are often up before most of the other Gladers, so it’s not surprising that you’re still in your hammock fast asleep. Minho will greet you softly with a playful chirp in his tone, calling you by his own term of endearment. When your eyes flutter open and you say his name in confusion, his heart just about leaps out of his chest. He’ll tell you that it’s raining so he has the day off, and to move over. You sleepily move over as much as you can so he has room to climb in with you, wrapping his arms around you. He’s an early bird, so he probably won’t fall back to sleep right away. He’ll enjoy watching you drift back into dreamland once more with the sound of rain tapping on the roof, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Gally: He is by no means a slacker, but he can’t defy the weather. Being that the conditions aren’t the best for building, he’ll tell the other builders on his team to head inside. He huffs a sigh of annoyance as he badly wants to finish this project. The rain starts to wash away the sweat that glistened over his skin as he takes his time picking up tools and whatnot so they don’t get ruined. Since he’s already soaked, he’ll go out of his way to find you wherever you took shelter. He’ll ask around if any of those shanks taking shelter under the structure have seen where you went. Someone will point, and finally, he’ll spot you making a dash across the Glade. He’ll stand there with hands on his hips watching you approach. You’re out of breath, but there’s a glimmer in your eye as you greet him. His heart pounds and lips turn up in amusement as he wraps an arm around you for a brief hug, not wanting to make a scene in front of the other Gladers. A midday snack is being passed around by Frypan, so the two of you sit shoulder-to-shoulder on a bench. You’re talking with each other and your closest friends around you. It was almost like a bonfire with jokes being made and laughter. Gally cracks up at a silly comeback you made to Winston, and suddenly, the rain doesn’t feel like such an inconvenience to him anymore.

2K notes · View notes

jennapancake · 3 months ago

Text

The Monsters Creator

Minho x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

127 notes · View notes

taestarii · 2 years ago

Text

✎ find a way - minho

[minho (tmr) x fem!reader]

synopsis - y/n runs into the maze after minho

warning! swearing outside of glader slang, mentions of death

is the tmr fandom still alive?? these movies were my whole childhood and i just rewatched the first one and needed to writeee

Something was wrong.

"Are they not here yet?" The entire glade was standing by the door waiting for Minho and Alby to arrive. They were never this late before, and it was almost sun down. The doors would be closing soon.

"Are they going to make it?" The greenie, Thomas, asked.

"They're gonna make it." Newt said.

"What if they don't?"

"They're gonna make it."

The sun was dipping lower below the walls with every agonizing minute. Your leg bounced anxiously, checking every shadow down the corridor for signs of Minho. The worst thoughts started to fill your head. What if you really lost you best friend? What if the person that means the most to you is lying on the concrete of this god-forsaken maze fighting for his life?

Newt's reassuring hand on your shoulder did very little to reassure you.

Another minute passed and the gladers were started to lose hope. They we're getting restless, some were already leaving. You knew, you just knew he was still alive in there. Your Minho was a fighter, fighter until the last second.

"There!" Someone pointed. Everyone held their breath, searching the shadows. Minho emerged, dragging himself along with every last ounce of willpower. Everyone erupted into cheers of encouragement, but you knew something was up.

"Is that Alby?"

He was slung, limp, over Minho's shoulder. They weren't gonna make it.

The ground started to shake, the aching rumble of the stone sounded as the doors inched closer.

"No!" you cried, as if your screams would reverse the doors. "Minho, you can do it!" You saw the pained expression cross his face at your voice, he knew he wasn't going to make it.

The doors were on the verge of closing as you took a step forward. This door was the barrier between your life and your death and you were right on the edge, deciding your fate.

Your time was running out as your heart acted faster than your head. The boys screamed after you as you pulled away from the gladers, ripping away from your life and throwing yourself into inevitable death as you ran through the narrow opening towards darkness. Towards your fate. Towards Minho.

You barely made it, collapsing on the floor as the doors shut behind you. "Congratulations, you just killed yourself."

"What?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/n?" Minho looked up at you with an unreadable expression. You stood up and dusted off your pants before taking in your surroundings. It just clicked how utterly stupid you are. You ran into a dark maze you've never even stepped foot in before, not to mention no one has ever spent a night in the maze and lived to tell the story. You must have been batshit crazy to run after Minho, that, or crazy in love.

"Minho, what do we do?" You asked, running your hand over some ivy that decorated the wall. It felt oddly.. fake.

"Nothing." He replied, letting his head fall.

"Are you serious?" You asked. You waited for him to give any sign that he was just joking, and that he had a plan.

"You did this to yourself, Y/n." He wasn't.

"I ran after you, Minho."

"No one asked you to do that." His voice was raising, yet he stayed calm and unwavering.

"You can't just give up, Minho!"

"Then what am I supposed to do, Y/n?" He looked up at you with tears in his eyes, his voice getting shakey. "I don't know what to do, Y/n. I'm scared. I'm scared, and lost, with no plan and no chance of surviving." He bowed his head again. "You ran after me and now were both here, both dead. You're dead because of me."

Your breath slowed as you approached him. "Living won't be living without you. We're not dead, and I will do everything in my power to get us through the night and out of the maze." You kneeled beside him and drew in a deep breath. "I ran after you because I love you, Minho. You being in here alone sounded like a nightmare, and I couldn't-" he cut you off by taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours.

You felt the pressure of three years in the glade, three years by Minho's side every day and three years of liking him wash away in one kiss. "We'll have plenty more time to do that once we get out of here." Minho said, standing up and offering his hand.

#minho x reader #the maze runner #tmr Minho x reader #tmr thomas #tmr newt #the scorch trials #the death cure #the maze runner x reader #tmr x reader #tmr minho x reader #tmr imagines

727 notes · View notes

book-place · 2 years ago

Text

Story of Tonight

Warnings: weapons, tmr spoilers, cursing, violence, mentions of death, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Gladers x reader platonic

*not my gif*

Summary: Your chaotic order is suddenly disturbed by the arrival of the newest greenie

A/N: Welcome to book places one year event!!

Inspired by: The Story of Tonight by We the Kings

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

I may not live to see our glory

“Hey, greenie!” You called as you strolled over to the poor boy who had been whipping around, looking at the Glade in complete fear.

Alby grinned, clapping the boy on the back in a way that made him stumble forward in his already unbalanced state, “And this is Y/n.” The leader introduced while you gave a friendly wave to the boy, “And she might be the only girl here, but messing with her might be the last thing you ever do.”

You laughed, playfully shoving the boy aside, “Quit scaring the guy, Alby. You’ll make him go running off again.”

The boy's cheeks flushed at your words, “I didn’t know what was going on.” He defended weakly.

A nod of understanding came from you, “I know, I get it. We were all like that when we first got here. No matter what the other kids will tell you, not a single one of us handled it any better than you did.”

Alby began backing up with his hands in his pockets and a rare wide smile, “I’ll let n/n take it from here, but I’m serious, greenie! No flirting! If she doesn’t end you for it, I guarantee any one of the others- including myself- will!”

You scoffed and flipped him off, leaving the boy cackling as he went off to his other duties and you began steering away the new kid, who looked downright petrified.

“Don’t listen to him,” You sighed softly, “That’s just Alby being Alby. He learned over time that he had to be like that after getting the first and only girl thrown into the mix with everything.”

The boy gulped from beside you, “I wasn’t going to try and flirt-“

“I know.” You smiled kindly, bumping your shoulder with his slightly, “You don’t seem the type.”

“Have-have the others actually done things to people who’ve flirted with you?” He asked.

You grinned teasingly, “Nah, they’ve got pretty close, though.” You looked around and waved at a couple nearby boys fondly, “We’re all like a family here. And family looks out for one another, which is what they’re just trying to do.”

He nodded beside you in understanding, but then asked, “Is it normal that I don’t remember my name?”

It was so innocently asked, but his eyes were wide with fear in a way that made you chuckle slightly and swing an arm around his shoulder, “It’s your first day, greenie. You’ll remember eventually, I promise.”

You continued showing the boy around, something that had quickly become your second job around here after Alby and Newt figured out that you had more of a welcoming personality than any of the others. That alone quickly made you climb up to almost third in command around the Glade, a job often playfully fought over between you and Minho.

“What is this place?”

You faltered in your steps. After so many times of showing new greenies around, you had become used to the recurring question, but that didn’t mean it was any easier for you to talk about each time.

With a clearing of your throat, you turned to look at the small cemetery that had been set up, “These are places to rest for those we’ve lost.” It was an answer that you had been able to generate over time.

“Oh,” He breathed out, dropping his head slightly as if saddened by the loss of those he hadn’t even known, surprising you slightly. You decided that you liked this boy, “Are there many of them?”

“I believe that every loss is a great one,” You said, “So, to me, yes. But to others,” You shrugged, “Maybe not.”

“I think it is.” He whispered.

You smiled softly at his words and gently began steering him away, “I’m glad you think so.”

“But… do they die often?” The nervousness in his tone hinted at what he was trying to insinuate with the question.

“You’re going to be fine,” You reassured him, “If so many of us have made it this far, then you have lots of good people to look out for you.”

But I will gladly join the fight

“New greenie today?” Minho asked, chest still heaving up and down slightly as he leaned his forearms against the table in the map room.

You hummed, crossing your arms and leaning back against the wall, resting your head against it, “Just left him to Chuck.”

The boy grinned, “Poor kid, Chuky’ll talk his ear off.”

A small laugh left your lips, “I don’t know, the new guy asks a million questions, I think Chuck’ll be the one getting fed up.”

“Hey, sorry we’re late.” Newt's british accent rang out through the room as he and Alby stepped through the door, closing it securely behind them.

“Any new progress?” Alby got straight to business, standing over the table with cross arms.

Minho shook his head, expression dropping from the relaxed, joking one he held as the two of you conversed only seconds ago.

The leader sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “We lessen our odds of getting out of here every day that passes.” He admitted in a small whisper.

You and the other two boys exchanged a worried look, he almost never talked like that- not in front of others at least- he liked to keep hope held up for as long as he could.

With a sympathetic smile, you walked over and clapped the boy on the shoulder, making him peek over his hands to look at you.

“Take a break, Alby,” You said softly, “Relax for the rest of the night, we have the greenie bonfire still. Enjoy it.”

He reached up and placed his hand over yours, squeezing it appreciatively before nodding once to the other two and slipping out.

“Here, I’ll clean this stuff up, guys.” You picked up the papers Minho had been drawing on to showcase the map of the trails he had just run, “Save me a plate of Fry's food, will you?”

“You got it,” Minho mockingly saluted before exiting with an amused Newt right on his heels.

As soon as the door softly shut behind him, you dropped all the belongings with a tired sigh, letting your head fall into your hands.

You had to try to keep a brave face on for them- for everyone. Because even though Alby and Newt outranked you, you felt as though you were responsible for keeping their hope alive- all of the gladers hope.

You would never admit it out loud to anyone, but you had lost hope a long time ago that you were all going to get out of there. But you would fight- you would keep fighting until you had nothing left in you if only to try and give the others a chance of getting out of this place.

And when our children tell our story

“Smile, greenie,” You joked, swinging your arm around the new kids shoulders, “We’re here to celebrate you tonight.”

The boy looked over at you hesitantly, “I’m not so sure I like that idea.”

You threw your head back with a laugh, leading him towards the festivities centered around the large bonfire, “I like you, greenie, you’ve got a humor on you.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny…” He mumbled, slowly taking the glass you held out for him, “What’s this?”

You shrugged, taking a sip out of your own glass, “Gallys famous Moonshine.”

He stared down at it suspiciously, “But what’s in it?” Clearly he had met the creator of the drink already, or he most likely wouldn’t be having this much problems with it.

Your grin only widened, “That’s the thing, nobody knows. He won’t tell us.”

Hesitantly, after watching you take another swig of the mystery drink, he lifted the glass to his lips and took a slip. Less than a second later, he was bent over, sputtering and coughing.

Newt strode by just in time to see that, and laughed loudly while clapping the greenie on the back, “You get used to it after a while.” He promised with a snicker.

The boy grimaced, “I don’t know if I want to.”

“Ah, so this is the famed new greenie I’ve heard so much about,” Minho then came over, wearing a grin you knew meant he was in the mood to mess with the new boy, “Gunning to be a runner on your first day, are ya?”

A blush crept up onto his cheeks and he quickly shook his head. This caused you to scowl at Minho and swing an arm around the boy's shoulders, “Don’t listen to him, he’s just trying to get you all worked up.”

You and the other two laughed slightly while the greenie just stood there, looking uncomfortable.

Noticing this, you shifted the conversation and glanced around, “Where’s Alby?” You frowned slightly.

Newt glanced back towards the Homestead, “Already retired for the night, poor bloke could barely keep his eyes open.”

Your lips twitched into a slight frown at the news, but quickly replaced it with a wide grin when you noticed the others watching you, “Good, he deserves to get some rest.”

With that, your small group slowly dispersed, you and Minho plopping down onto some nearby logs and chatting while Newt led the greenie away to show him around a bit.

Shortly after, your attention was pulled from the boy beside you and towards where a group of gladers were huddled near the fire, cheering in a way you knew could only mean that there was a fight.

Letting loose a small sigh from your nose, you pushed yourself to your feet, ready to break up the brawl.

You surged through the crowd, the couple boys that saw you moving out of your way, already knowing that you would be mad at them for encouraging it in the first place, and wisely decided on not making it worse for themselves.

A surprising surge of anger coursed through you when you reached the front and came face to face with the sight of Gallys stupid smirk as he advanced on the greenie, who stumbled backwards in fear.

You barely knew the boy, but you already really liked him.

“Hey!” You called, marching forward and shoving Gally backwards by the chest.

Gallys eyes widened and he didn’t resist your push, everyone all around quieting as well, watching the scene before them unfold.

“Alright, ya shanks!” Minho's voice boomed behind you, “Show’s over!” Normally he didn’t get involved with the fights, but he must have followed you.

Slowly, the crowd disbanded and spread out, giving you some space, muttering amongst themselves all the while.

You turned to the boy, “Are you alright, greenie?”

“Thomas.” He mumbled, looking slightly disoriented.

“What?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“My name- it’s Thomas.” His eyes finally lifted to meet yours.

You shot him a small, amused grin, “Funny time to remember something like that.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Thomas mumbled, shuffling his feet.

With that, you rounded on your heel to face Gally, who was being blocked from running away by Minho, who stood like a solid wall in front of him with his arms crossed.

“And you,” You seethed, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I-he-“ Gally sputtered out.

You held a hand up to silence him, “Actually, I don’t want to hear it.”

Minho let out a low whistle of amusement once Gally scampered off, “Damn, greenie, some first day you’re having.”

“Tell me about it,” Thomas muttered.

You forced yourself to let out a laugh, trying to make it sound as real as you could.

They'll tell the story of tonight

Your lips were pulled into a thin, grim line as you stood over Ben with crossed arms, your ears long since having begun ringing from his screams.

He was going through the changing and you and the others could do nothing but painfully sit around and wait for it to be completed.

Alby sat in a chair to the other side of the bed, head resting in his hands as his forehead creased with worry and contemplation.

It was beginning to get to the point where you couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to get out of that room.

You turned on your heel and quickly exited, feeling a bit guilty for the sigh of relief that slipped past your lips, even though the noise of his screams were only muffled the tiniest bit through the thin door.

“Y/n.”

Subconsciously, you started with slight surprise at the sudden voice to your left, and your head whipped to the side to face Gally, who almost looked as if he had been waiting for you.

You scowled slightly, still upset with him about what happened with Thomas the night before.

“What do you want, you shank?” You grumbled, already beginning to stomp down the stairs to leave the Homestead.

“I don’t trust him.” He kept up with your quick pace with ease.

The bluntness of his tone paired with the suddenness of his words made you falter in your step slightly and you shot him a sideways gaze, “Who?” Your curiosity got the better of you.

“Thomas.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and quickening your steps in hopes of getting away from the boy.

A gentle hand grabbed your arm and pulled you to a stop. You were forced to look into Gallys eyes that held such seriousness and urgency that you didn’t even try to wretch your arm from his grip, “I saw him during the changing. I don’t know how or why, but I don’t trust him.”

“You saw him?” You hesitated.

He nodded his head, “Clear as day.”

You swallowed thickly, averting your eyes to the other side of the Glade, where Newt was showing Thomas the ropes of everything.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Was the only thing you said before slipping away.

Let's have another round tonight

She’s the last one. Ever.

Of course, you should have known. The first time there’s ever another girl in the Glade, she comes with an ominous note that shoots fear through everyone’s hearts, including your own.

Your first thought was if she was the last greenie to come up, then would the Box itself never come up again either? Would you be able to still get supplies?

The girl was quick to pass out almost as quickly as she had woken up, and you could tell right away that Thomas seemed off, as if her arrival had triggered something from within him.

Unconsciously, your mind drifted to Gallys words from earlier, the ones about seeing Thomas while he was going through the changing. Maybe this as connected to it.

You hadn’t questioned it though, or voiced your opinions, too busy working with Newt to keep everyone’s panic at bay, even when your own was rising more and more by the second.

Alby looked at you, and you picked up on a hint of duress that only those closest to him would be able to see. It was never a good sign when the leader of the Glade was worried and practically showing it.

Let's have another round tonight

A loud scream pierced through the air, immediately ripping your attention away from Newt, who was talking in front of you, and your head snapped over to the source of the noise so fast that you could have sworn you almost got whiplash.

Without a second thought, you took off as fast as your legs would carry you into the general direction, eyes zoning in on where Thomas was making a beeline out of the trees, seemingly aimlessly.

Right on his heels was Ben, who you were certain was still supposed to be on bed rest. The boy was chasing after the greenie with a murderous glint in his eyes that made your stomach churn.

Gladers all around quickly gathered close to the two boys, watching with parted lips and eyes wide with shock as Ben tackled Thomas to the ground.

“Hey-“ You yelled, moving to dove forward and push him off the boy, only for another hand to hold you back.

Your head whipped around to where Newt was shaking his head, nodding in the direction of Alby, who wore a deadly calm look and held a bow that was pointed directly at Ben’s head.

“Get off of him, Ben,” Alby demanded authoritatively.

The boy made sounds of protest, refusing to release him.

Your eyes worriedly flickered down to where Thomas lay, staring up in horror as he used all his strength to try and keep the crazed boy at bay.

“This is your last warning.”

Newts hand was still gently but firmly placed around yours to keep you from impulsively interfering and possibly getting hurt.

Ben let out a scream, arm reeling back with a sharp object grasped tightly in his fist, as if to stab Thomas, but was swiftly thrown off the boy by the force of an arrow hitting him in the side of his face.

Thomas immediately scampered up, stumbling away from the boy. Only then did Newt let go of you, and you quickly rushed to him while a bunch of the Gladers moved to secure Ben.

“Hey, are you okay?” You asked anxiously, eyes traveling over his face for any sign of damage.

He huffed out a large breath of air, muscles still tense from the chase, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

Dusk quickly approached after that, seconds ticking by until the Keepers were to get together to push Ben into the maze just in time for the doors to close. Locking him in there for the night.

You knew he deserved it- he tried to murder Thomas- but in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to go and watch.

It was honestly sick, pushing a kid to his death, even after he tried to take another’s life.

Let's have another round tonight

It was one bad thing right after the next.

You felt like you barely ever had time to breathe, tragedy just kept striking again and again.

Now, you paced back and forth at the west door entrance of the maze that Minho and Alby were supposed to come back through hours ago. The two of them went out to explore a dead grievers body that the runner had supposedly seen, and had not been back since.

Every couple of seconds, you would glance up at the ever setting sun and your heart would just sink lower and lower into your chest.

You had resorted to worriedly biting on your thumb nail, ignoring the way all the Gladers around you were muttering amongst themselves in their own panic.

“They’ll be alright.”

Though you knew the british boy was trying to comfort you, the slight waver in his tone at the end of his sentence gave him away to only putting his confidence on for show.

You couldn’t even find it in yourself to manage a nod, urgency and worry eating up inside of you. It was getting so bad that it felt as if your chest was contracting.

You didn’t know what to do.

All of a sudden, two figures emerged from around the corner. Well, one figure was stumbling while dragging another limp figure at their side.

Minho was dragging Alby along.

Minho was dragging Alby along, and the doors were beginning to shut.

Your mouth went dry and your throat began closing up.

“Come on!”

“Hurry!”

“Leave him!”

“Run, Minho, run!”

Desperate cries broke out from all around you as everyone tried to urge the pair on. But you already knew, somewhere deep down, that there was no chance of them making it.

They were too far away and the doors were closing far too quickly.

From the corner of your eye, you barely even registered Thomas’s body moving forward until it was too late. Until Newt's arm was hanging uselessly to the side after trying to grab the boy and yank him back.

Until Thomas had slipped through the maze doors just in time for them to close with a deafening thud.

Raise our glass to freedom

Not once during any of the hours of the night had you moved from your spot.

Your feet were planted firmly into the ground right in the very center of the west door and that’s where they stayed. Your eyes didn’t close for longer than the occasional blink, and you wordlessly waved away any of your worried friends who had tried to coax you to bed.

Nothing could have moved you from that spot. Not when three of your closest friends were trapped in the horrid maze for the night.

Somewhere deep down, you knew that no matter what you did, no matter how long you waited, nothing would bring them back. It was impossible to survive a night in the maze.

“Love,” Though you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, you didn’t tear your eyes away from the bland concrete in front of you, “The doors are gonna open soon, and I don’t think we should be here when they do.”

You knew he was just trying to spare you the heartbreak of the doors opening without any one of them being there, but you couldn’t will yourself away.

“I can’t,” Your voice was slightly hoarse from non use.

“Y/n…” Chuck was there too, the poor boy was also worried about you, “Fry said we can go get some breakfast from him before any of the others get up. That means we get first dibs on everything.”

Your feet remained firmly planted on the ground.

The all too familiar groan of the doors easing open drew more Gladers near, no other sound but the quiet murmurs that slipped past their lips.

You knew that the emptiness waiting for you would be too much to bear, but you couldn’t will your feet to move, to pull you away from the scene that would leave you devastated.

But as the doors inched open, you sucked in a sharp breath and you felt as if your heart froze.

There stood Alby, Minho, and Thomas.

All very much alive- despite the fact that Alby looked seconds away from passing out.

A sob escaped from the back of your throat and you threw yourself forward before any of the other Gladers even reacted, hugging the closest of the boys, which just so happened to be Minho.

Despite being the one to be trapped in the maze all night, Minho caught you with ease and hugged you back with a tightness that you could only assume meant he needed it just as much as you did.

“Come on,” You pulled away after a moment once Newt started speaking, “Let’s get you to the med-jacks. Then we can talk about how the bloody hell you shanks managed to survive.”

Something they can never take away

“Heya, greenie.” You grinned, striding over to the slammer.

Thomas peaked his head towards one of the openings, “Hey,” He replied back.

“I come bearing good news,” You began rifling through your pocket to pull out a key, which you slotted into the lock on the jail door and turned, letting it fall open, “You’re free to go.”

Thomas quickly scrambled out, letting loose a breath of relief, making you chuckle slightly.

“Here,” You handed him a plate of lunch you had been carrying for him, “Eat it on the way, Alby wants to talk to you.”

A mixture of surprise and relief flooded onto the boy's face, “He’s awake?”

You nodded, “The first thing he did was demand that he talked to you. Alone.”

A bit of nervousness grew on his face as the two of you walked side by side towards the Homestead, “Any idea what it’s about?”

You shook your head, “Nah… but, hey, I’ll be right outside the room if you need anything, alright?”

He nodded, shooting you a grateful smile as you arrived at the room Alby was in before he carefully crept in and closed the door behind him.

You did as promised, leaning across the wall opposite to the door as you waited for Thomas to emerge from the room again, only to be alerted a couple moments later by the sound of struggling coming from within the room.

Quickly, you burst in to see what all the ruckus was about, only to find Newt- who was surprisingly in the room as well- restraining Albys hands and Thomas backing away, eyes wide with fright. Alby himself was sputtering and seemingly trying to regain control of his breathing.

He turned his head to face you and Newt, who were now standing side by side, “Be careful with the girl, and protect the maps.” Was all he told you before his eyes rolled back and he passed out.

You knew he was talking about the strange girl that arrived the other day, but his directions were eerie to you. And sudden. You didn’t know what was happening- you were no doubt missing some pieces to the story- but you were beginning to freak out.

No matter what they tell you

No, no, no, no-

This couldn’t be happening. You must have been dreaming.

But as you whipped around in circles with your head tilted back to stare with wide, unbelieving eyes, you knew that it was true, if only by the similar reactions from the other Gladers.

The sky was gray and the sun had disappeared.

Scientifically, you knew this wasn’t possible. But you also knew that scientifically, having no sun meant no crops could grow- the things keeping you all alive. So you figured that the reality of the situation was more important than how it actually came to be.

First the girl. Then the note saying the box would bring anymore supplies. Ben going insane. Then Thomas, Alby, and Minho getting trapped in the maze. And Albys weird instructions-

Sure, being stuck, helpless, in the Glade was never ideal to begin with, but you all made due. There was order to all of the chaos, but it seemed like ever since Thomas’s arrival, everything had come tumbling down, crushing you in the process.

It was all too much. You could hardly breathe.

But you couldn’t worry about that at the moment, not when so many of the Gladers were thrown into a panic that only you and the few others in charge could even have a small hope of curing.

“Hey! Alright, listen up!” Your voice boomed over the open space, effectively gaining the attention of everyone around and silencing them, “Until we know what’s going on, everyone head to the Homestead.”

Only a few quiet murmurs escaped from the lips of all the boys, but they all did as you said without question, trusting you.

All you could do was hope that their trust wasn’t misplaced.

“Y/n,” Newt came up beside you, “We have a problem.”

“You don’t say.” You deadpanned.

The blond boy shook his head, “It’s not just the sky… the doors to the maze aren’t closing… nothing's happening.”

Your throat tightened, “What the hell do you mean?”

He gestured towards the entrances, “They should have closed by now.”

Your eyes widened and you glanced towards a couple of stragglers nearby who were yet to make it into the Homestead.

“Come on, people! Move it!” You snapped, worry seeping into your tone.

They exchanged glances, but didn’t question it, just doing as you said and changing their paces to a small jog.

Once you and Newt did a sweep to make sure that nobody was left outside, you yourselves went in and assisted in barricading all of the doors and windows to hopefully keep the horrible grievers out.

Raise our glass to the four of us

“The grievers will kill one of us each night until all of us are dead!”

As if the crazed- slightly animalistic- look in his eyes weren’t enough to make you uneasy, his words threw you as well as everyone else within the Homestead into a full on panic.

Gally had burst in with disheveled hair and clothes to announce that to all of you, but you honestly had no idea how he knew or why he was telling everyone, he knew well enough that it would just shoot fear into everyone’s hearts.

Before anyone could so much as speak, the boy had already flung himself across the room just as one of the grievers that had been trying to penetrate the place broke in.

A shrill scream left your lips along with others as you all stumbled backwards.

But instead of charging at the rest of you, the griever followed along with Gallys words and simply disappeared after he had taken the boy.

A sob raked through your body when the boy who you never considered a friend nor foe disappeared along with the creatures into the night.

Thomas pulled you into a sideways hug, his chest falling up and down rapidly as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

“They’re gonna come for one of us each night,” You muttered, finally comprehending the server weight of that fact.

“The maps!” Alby burst out suddenly, leaping ungraciously to his feet and sprinting out of the room before any of you could so much as blink at his words.

Tomorrow there'll be more of us

“What the hell are you doing?” You cried, rushing towards the map room where Alby stood, torch in hand.

He released it, feeding it to the ever growing fire.

You received no response in return, it was silent as you stared at him with betrayal-filled eyes. He was destroying years of research- possibly the only chance any of you ever had of getting out of this place.

Minho came to a stop beside you, mouth slightly agape as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing- you barely could either.

“No!” You snapped out of your trance and lunged forward, as if to dive into the flames and save the maps.

“Hey, hey-“ Minho quickly caught you around the waist and pulled you back, “It’s alright, it’s alright.”

“Does this look alright to you?” Newt snapped, he and Thomas finally having made their way over to the three of you.

“I already moved the maps,” Minho explained calmly, “They’re safe.”

For the first time that day, you sagged in relief and quit fighting against your friends hold.

Telling the story of tonight

It was a code.

Of course it was, how could you have been so stupid to not notice before?

The girl- Teresa- had proven to be helpful after you let her out of the slammer and she was able to decipher the maps as different codes when all put together.

All you needed to figure out was how to use them.

“I can’t believe it,” You ranted excitedly to Newt, “After all this time, the answers have been right in front of us.”

The boy smiled softly when he heard something in your voice that he hadn’t heard in years.

Hope. Genuine hope.

As much as you had tried to fool the others that you still believed in your chances of getting out of there, he never fell for it. Not once.

“Y/n! Newt!” Minho was breathless as he came running over to the two of you, falling forwards with his hands on his knees when he reached you.

“What is it?” You noticed the worried look on his face.

“Thomas- the shucking idiot- he got stung by a griever. On purpose.”

Your heart stopped.

“What?”

As fast as you could, you sprinted to the Homestead, throwing open the door and crowding the bed that Thomas laid on.

Almost as if waiting for your arrival, his eyes fluttered open when you came to a stop in front of him.

“I have a plan.” Were the first words he uttered.

The story of tonight

It was a miracle that the Keepers- that anybody- had agreed to the reckless- and undoubtedly stupid- plan, and you honestly had no idea how Thomas did it. But now, you, and the rest of the Gladers that decided against staying, were gearing up with weapons to storm the maze and make your escape.

Minho shot you an encouraging smile- the best one he could muster- as he handed you a makeshift spear to defend yourself and others.

You tuned everything out as Thomas went over the plan once again with everyone, but you already had it down. All you had to do was keep telling yourself that it was achievable- that it was actually happening. That you weren’t just dreaming. That there was actually a chance of getting out of this place.

So when everyone charged forward with a loud battle cry, you joined in with them, falling into step with Minho and Thomas, who were leading the way through the maze.

At every twist and turn, there was a new griever lurking about, deadly weapons at the ready and deafening shrieks going.

You lost track quickly of how many of them you had stabbed, how many had tried swiping at you, only for you to duck at the last moment.

“Come on!” Thomas shouted above the chaos, rushing over and grabbing your wrist to drag you over to the edge of the cliff as the other Gladers held the beasts off.

Your wide eyes snapped over to him, “What? This wasn’t part of the plan-“

“I need you down there.” There was a sort of urgency in his voice as he spoke, and it reflected through his eyes as well, “Please, I can’t do this without you.”

You hesitated before slowly nodding. You came to the realization that you were the first person in the glade to show him kindness, and even if you only knew each other for a short amount of time, you were close friends. And he needed you, so you would be there for him.

“I’ll go first.” He called, giving you one last nod before jumping off the edge of the cliff, disappearing right where he said he would.

Your eyes flitted back to Newt and Minho, both of the boys sending your hurried nods to tell you to go along, that they would be alright and would keep everyone else safe.

So with that, you followed after Thomas, jumping off the cliff and into the abyss.

Bloody Shanks 🧪- @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @etanordoesbullsh1t @kiyomi-uchiha777

1K notes · View notes

misskingshit · 2 years ago

Text

𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 summary: After so long, you finally take the step. Note: I hope the fandom of The Maze Runner is not dead because yesterday I watched the movie and my fandom that was buried and gathering dust deep inside me, finally came out again, but I hope I'm not the only one. xoxo

At the beginning, when you arrived, you couldn't deny the fact that you were a little scared for being the only girl among so many teenage boys. Going through a place and feeling some gazes on you was uncomfortable, flirting (or attempts to) were unbearable, but you were lucky to be part of the best group on the glade, your favorite boy in it, Minho. He spent most of his time in the maze but whenever he came back the first thing he did was make sure you were okay and didn't have any trouble with any slimy boy. Your best friend… best friend. "What's up today, are you idiots or what, every five seconds some idiot gets hurt" you sighed "and you guys leave all the work to me" you looked accusingly at Clint and Jeff. "Why do you think they come? They all want you to attend to them, you're the only girl" the second mentioned says obviously. "You are disgusting" you turned around to continue organizing the table with the materials and remedies that you have. The noise of the door made with branches or whatever Gally used, was heard opening and you couldn't take it anymore "for God's sake stop being so stupid and be more careful or I'll have Clint start healing you" You turned around to see who had entered. "Shunk, I never really liked Clint" his voice sounds tired but playful. "Minho! what happened to you?" You analyzed everything you could about his clothes, a bruise on his right cheekbone, a cut on his eyebrow, and his lips somewhat dry and pale. Still, he was the most handsome boy you had ever seen. "The maze, I just tripped, nothing to worry about" he said "but I really would like you to heal me, not Clint" you both chuckled. "You are my exception" you grabbed a couple of gauze pads and alcohol to disinfect. You were standing between his legs, even so, his faces were at the same height since he was sitting on some kind of stretcher, the distance was very short, your body was completely bristling. Your gaze and his meet when you finish putting the band-aid on his eyebrow, you don't really know how to react when you feel Minho's hands on your waist, and even less when you feel his lips on yours. Without hesitation, although very nervous, you followed the kiss passing both of your arms around his neck, Minho pressed you more against him, he was perfect, the situation was perfect, everything was perfect. At this moment you didn't care about being the only girl, being locked up with murderous bugs and a little labyrinth around you, having forgotten everything about your past life, because now you had him and it was the best thing that could happen to you. Your lips collided very well, your saliva mixing with his at that moment seemed the hottest thing in the whole world. "If that's how you start treating your patients, they'll line up" Clint's voice came from behind him. "And I'll kick your asses one by one if you just look at her" Minho's voice sounded loud, mad, rude, Clint just raised his hands scared and left. You couldn't help but kiss his cheek and laugh a little "if you're like that to protect me, I'll make you jealous more often" you kissed him again. "You don't know how long I waited for this moment" he said between kisses, which each time became more passionate and needy. "Oh god Minho" you blurted out after feeling his hands squeeze your butt, kissing your neck. "Say my name like that one more time and I'll fuck you right here, right now” My God, the real man.

2K notes · View notes

radiantdanvers · 1 year ago

Text

In a Relationship with Minho

#the maze runner #the maze runner x reader #tmr minho #tmr minho x reader #minho x reader #minho x y/n #minho x you #moodboard #pov #pics not mine

244 notes · View notes

justwearthegoddamncardigan · 1 year ago

Note

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 :)

#the maze runner #minho x reader #tmr minho x reader #tmr minho #my writing

296 notes · View notes