#newt and gally

[noelan1]

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

¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(The Maze Runner) Imagine: He Protects You

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

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

. . .Thomas. . .

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” you call frantically.  

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

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

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

You manage a nod.

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

“Thank you…” you whispered.

. . . Newt . . .

You couldn’t take it anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, just… Nothing. It’s nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . . Minho . . .

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

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

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

“Hello?” you call.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

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

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

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

. . . Gally . . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

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

“Hey now, I didn’t say you could go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think you already have,” you chuckle.

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

FUCK YOU, don't leave me

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

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

Gally x Fem!Reader NSFW

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

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

Word Count: 4.4K Read Time: 14 Mins

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

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

–Prologue–

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

The morning after. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 2

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

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

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

Day 5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 7

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

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

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

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

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

Day 11

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

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

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

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

Day 14

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe not too forward?

Day 17

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

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

Day 19

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 21

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 24

“Y/N, can you toss me that rope?”

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

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

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

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

Day 27

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

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

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

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

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

Day 29

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

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

Day 32

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

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

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

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

Day 34

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 35

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gally’s crying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…yeah I get it,” 

Another agonizing stretch of silence fills the room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[that-tmr-girl]

How TMR boys would react if you called them vanilla

Aris

Stares at you for a moment

The next thing you know he's on top of you, trailing his hands down your hips

Kissing you, the only thing he changes is edging you even more than before

"And you're still going to cum every time."

Gally

Completely offended

Walks towards you, making you nervous

The next thing you know, you're screaming his name as he goes rougher than ever before

"Call me that again. I like teaching you lessons."

Minho

Looks you up and down

Walks away, leaving you confused

Then, he schedules you to run together in the maze

Fucks you against a wall until take it back

Newt

Doesn't bring it up for a while

When you've forgotten about it one Greenie night, he takes you to his hut and rails you

Only after making you cum until your legs give out does he tell you why he did it

"Being vanilla doesn't seem to be a problem, does it love?"

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

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

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

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

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

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

‘Medjack! Medjack, now!’

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

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

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

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

‘What happened?’ Y/N asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You mean I’ll have a limp?’

‘Potentially.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yeah?’ he called back.

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

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

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

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

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

And maybe that was something worth fighting for.

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Clint!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N held it out to Newt. ’Teach me.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Good that.’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All because of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

’Saw what?’ Thomas asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m sorry Newt, but I am not brave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was the end.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Y/N?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

‘Brenda!’

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

If she could make it in time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right as his drove the knife into her stomach.

‘Y/N!’ 

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Y/N?’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘For what?’ she asked.

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

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

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

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

[gladerscake]

Gally: Every time I see Y/N, my heart clenches and I get really nervous...

Newt: Sounds like you’re in love with her. Congrats!

/meanwhile/

Y/N: Every time I see Gally, my heart clenches and I get really nervous...

Thomas: Don’t get too close to him. Sounds like you have an allergic reaction.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

could we get some gally headcannons please?👀

Whatever you want to write🩷

Thank you ❤️

gally in a relationship headcanons

masterlist

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

the glade

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

would probably end up in a fistfight over it.

he'd be a rough/passionate kisser.

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

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

guards you whenever you shower.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the last city

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

well, maybe he would be a little aggressive.

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

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

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

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

[bamjio]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓. ☆ tmr, Minho.

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: A little one night stand with Minho wouldn't hurt, right?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): smut/adultery actions , drinking , explicit language , soft scenes , implied voyeurism , appropriately 16+.

𝘋𝘐𝘚𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘐𝘔𝘌𝘙 !! keep in mind that my content is simply for entertainment and leisure purposes. ONLY, I am not promoting inappropriate actions; especially if you're still immature and not ready.

︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑★ ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊, as you silently sat on the benches, gallys' moonshine in your hand, you took a sip.

Some of the boys had gotten to be tipsy or drowsy; while few of them were still lively, you had counted around 14 to 16 boys still participating in the twilights' dead occasion, and one of those boys laid a very rowdy and daring Minho. He was telling his group a very 'interesting' and 'thrilling' story— well, based on how he delivered it, and how they reacted so dramatically.

You sat in far from them, but close to the bonfire admiring Minhos' ridiculously charming spirit. Drinking small sips of the moonshine, avoiding getting tipsy.

After a few minutes, you got quite sleepy and decided to go to your hut, getting up— you got startled by a sudden noise of someone falling into a pile of things

"(Name), wait..!!"

A familiar charming yet deep voice catches up, turning around to see Minho jogging towards you unsteadily, as you stopped to wait for him

"Hi."

"You... you... you know, haha.. I have something to say.."

He drunkly yet confidently said, looking at you intensly, looking quite serious. You looked at him with a curious and worried expression— speaking up. "Yes, Minho?" I tilted my head slightly. by reflex— you held on to his shoulder, since he was gonna fall to the stones again.

"You're so... soo... sooo.... cute." He burped, laughing after, as you chuckled along slightly.

"I think it's time to go to sleep." You scolded, wiping his face. "Whaattt?? Its—" burp. "Not even— that dark.. see?" He refused, pointing at the shining moon, as you smiled at his oblivious and childish behavior

"That's a moon, and that's what they do." You replied, holding on to his heavy weight.

"Sorry. Let's go." He mumbled, getting drowsy as his head falls to my head. 'Ouch.'

As you both walked to the homestead, boys homestead. He stopped mid track, letting go of himself and gripping both your shoulders "(name). I really... really... superr.. like you." He giggled, grinning at you as he unexpectedly gave you a tight hug

If you were being honest, you blushed. Earning an uncontrollable smile from him. 'He's just drunk' you thought to yourself, believing in getting admired back was to funny to think, for you.

He let go and put his arm around again, acting like nothing happened as he walked uneasily.

Finally— upon arriving in his futon, you out him down gently, trying too hard not to bang his head due to his heavy weight; for you, since you don't lift weights like the other boys' do.

As you were about to leave he grabbed your arm, gripping it tight and pulling you, causing you to fall on your butt, leaving a small 'ah!' From the pain.

"Stay.—"

"—please? I know you're not allowed, but just for once?"

He murmured, looking at your eyes. His face was in a pinkish blush, and his eyes looked too doe to say no.

"For a minute." You mumbled, staying close to him, crossing your legs to stay nearby, but he rolled to the side, patting the space left. "Here, not there. And don't sit, please." He half-whisperly demanded, tugging your arm as you obliged, not wanting to lose the chance with your crush.

It felt honestly comfortably awkward, laying in bed facing the ceiling, while Minho clung to you, his legs wrapped around yours, his hands on your chest and face nuzzled in your neck in his comfort.

"(Name)?"

—"yes?"

"I think I love you."

He blabbled, turning your head to him to see him already looking at you with pure bliss, and no one could deny that his eyes spoke genuine.

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭?"

"You heard me. I said i love you." He confirmed, smiling hazily,

And there it was, utter silence.

"I like you too, Minho." You muttered, looking at him. You took the chance to confess, chances of him remembering was less than seventy anyway.

"I know. I think Ben told me that, or was that Newt?" He recalled, "can't be Newt though, he has a massive fat crush on you." Announced. taking his hand to your cheeks, "You're so cute." Squeezing it softly,

"Newt is always talking about your... eyes.. they're really expres—" He stopped mid sentence, admiring your eyes.

And by no hesitation; he grabbed your jaw as both your lips pressed. He closed his eyes while you were left with a suprise.

Letting go, leaving you with wide eyes and agape mouth.

"I love you so much. I hate it. You're too angelic to not admire. Your skin is too soft, and you're so sweet and caring to everyone. Everyone literally loves you." He quickly stammered.

He kissed you again, this time. You took it in. Closing your eyes and enjoying it feeling his soft lips against yours. as he let go again avoiding eye contact this time. "I hate they way they look and admire you, but I love the way you look and admire others." He got up, pinning your figure to the comfy futon, his legs trapping your hips and his arms around your head for support.

"You don't know how many times I wrote your name in the maze, your features that i love, your quotes that i hear, you don't know how much I always look at you, admire you when you're busy, I love your lips, eyes, nose, hair, and everything. I love how you're a caring, loving, sweet, kind, and strong person."

He kissed you, both your lips melting together, as he slid his tongue to yours, butterflies blooming inside your stomach as you moaned quietly inside.

"But I hate the way they love you, I hate how they take advantage of the kind of person you are."

He let go again, before you even blinked at him, he took of his shirt, unbuttoning it revealing his body, his body had scattered scars and bandages, which made it more attractive,

"Let me pleasure you, (name)." He gently grabbed your face, looking at your eyes with his.

"Let me be the one to give you real intention of loving you, please." He begged, sounding to be desperate,

You were blushing and was too ashamed to looked at him, yet nodding. "I want you to say it, please." He begged, as you softly obliged,

"Okay... minho." You softly muttered, not sure on how to reply to his offer.

As he pressumed, he grabbed kissed your lips, pampering the same heated kisses through your body, unbuttoning your white blouse,

Revealing your covered chest to your bare hips.He kissed through your belly button, stopping mid, now looking up at you.

"You don't know how much I love you." He said, going back up to your neck, gently sucking it.

"Minho..." you softly moaned, keeping your hands to your mouth incase someboy wakes up, you both would've been in huge trouble. And you weren't aiming for it.

He sucked, kissed, devoured your sensitive neck to cleavage, earning red spots.

"Ah.." you gently whimpered, as you felt him stop at his tracks

"Don't resist, let those dumb perverts know who you belong to." He grabbed your wrist, holding them up while he trailed kisses, moaning and whimpering each touch.

As time went on, he slowly pulled your pants, looking at you, a sign of consent, as you nodded in response

He crawled to your bottom, kissing your hip bone.

As he went further, he took off your pants, leaving you with your panties, as he blushed at the sight.

"Minho.." you softly called out, as he placed another kiss at your hip bone.

"Leave me to please you." He gently smiled, that damn smile that made you trip at your first day being a medjack.

Time went on as you two connected, literally.

Loud moans by Minho, and soft moans by you were spread by the homestead, the moment felt unreal, felt angelic, a feeling that you never thought could even happen.

Words, whimpering, moaning, groaning, and a soft shout were scattered— "shuck", which made you giggle mid to it. "yes", "harder", and a sweet "i love you." To every pain to pleasure.

As time went by Minho fell on your side, both half naked and bare. "I'm sorry." He panted, looking at the ceiling.

You were filled with sweat, him, and his scent. As you panted in satisfaction. "Don't be, please.." you breathed, getting close to him, as he invited his arms over you.

"When we get outta here, I want you and me to get married, having kids, and live by a lake." He proposed, kissing you on top of your head, as your hands traveled around his torso, hugging him.

"Thank you, Minho" you looked up to him with a soft genuine smile, a look that could make the sun stop shining. "This would be the last thing I'd expect."

"Thank you, (name)." He gestured back, earning a kiss from you, as you slept on his chest peacefully, he turned his head to the opposite side,

"How was the view?" He teased, chuckling before kissing your head again.

"Oh, shuck you."

"Fuck you, man."

Two groans were made by nonetheless, Newt and gally.

"I can hear both of you jacking off." Minho jestered, pulling a middle finger to them "you both were too focused on (name), luckily i was the one who noticed." Minho criticized, hugging your figure, ensuring you close as he kept the blanket to cover both your bodies, prioritizing you.

"𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄)"

You opened your eyes to see Minho sleeping soundly, already.

"𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐎, 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎."

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

I have so many apologies to make up (´；ω；`)

I know the adultery scene was not it, the start was very slow burnt yet the end was rushed, Minho was outta character, I wasn't as specific, and obviously I had grammar issues— I'm really sorryyyy (ToT) I haven't wrote in a long while and I hope you guys bare me here, I'll do better next time and I'm I guess willing to do requests once my masterlist is out, but I can't promise that I'll do it. (＾＾)人(＾＾)

Thanks so Mach for reading till the end!! Missyallloveyall!! (≡・x・≡)

[blackbirdi]

Tired

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

Point of View: 2nd Person

Word Count: 454

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, he was whipped.

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

[star--anon]

The Gladers: An Interview (Pt. 6)

we're BACK baby!!!

Masterpost

[theletter-tmr]

This fit so much for some reason i can’t even explain

[noelan1]

Do you ever read a really questionable fanfiction or a spicy love story and think "what the fuck did I just read"

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(The Maze Runner) You Get A Minor Injury

What Thomas, Newt, Minho, and Gally are like when reader gets a minor injury, pre-relationship and also during.

Warnings: Injuries, mentions of blood, scratches, scrapes, fluff.

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

Thomas:

"Ouch!"

Thomas immediately looks up from his task at the sound of your pained wince. The two of you had spent the afternoon clearing a section to make way for a new garden. In the final stretch of the project, the garden tool in your hand slipped and scraped your other arm.

You lift your arm to check out the damage, and Thomas is making his way over toward you before you could insist it was nothing. He isn't in a panic, but the concern's evident in his expression as he crouches down beside you, carefully taking your arm in his hands to inspect it. He concludes that it's nothing serious, and his gaze travels back up to meet yours, suggesting that you pay the medjacks a visit. He lets it go if you insist you're alright and don't need to get checked out. He keeps an eye on you, though, to make sure it doesn't get worse.

If you're in an established relationship, Thomas feels free to be a bit more open about his concern. If you didn't wish to stop work and go to the medjack hut with him, then at the very least, he's getting the supplies and bandaging you up himself. He'll pull you into a hug when it's taken care of, letting you know he just wants you to be alright even when it comes to the little things.

Newt:

You're standing a little ways away from your crew, taking a break from your hard work after a spectacular fall, when Newt approaches you.

He must have been making his rounds as second-in-command, checking the progress of each group of Gladers.

Newt seems puzzled at first as to why you've paused your work- Not suspicious, as he knows you do your part. When he notices the tiny red scrape on your chin, his curiosity turns to concern as he leans in to get a closer look. You glance down sheepishly at your palms, both a tad scraped up as well.

"You just missed it," you laugh it off, though internally you're extremely glad he did indeed miss it. One misstep had all but wrecked you, and the last thing you'd want was this handsome Glader in particular to witness it.

"Are you alright?" He lifts a hand to gently tilt your chin up to inspect the wound. He definitely pulls you away from the job to escort you to the medjack hut and won't hear any "but"s or protests of any kind on your part.

In a relationship, Newt feels more inclined to take the task of tending to your injury himself. He'd rather be the one to enter your space, dab at the little scrape on your chin with a clean cloth, and bandage your hands. You can expect a tender kiss on your forehead when he's all done.

Minho:

You wince, kneeling down to take a look at the wound. You can hear Minho's steps slow to a stop ahead of you before he swings back around to see what was the matter.

An unfortunate misstep during your routine run through the maze left you with a scratch on your knee. It's red, and there is just a bit of blood beading in certain spots where the scratch went a little deeper.

"Oh shuck," he murmurs, crouching. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it was my own fault," you replied.

"You're getting that checked out when we get back." It wasn't a question.

And you do. He's glancing over his shoulder at you the whole way back, and then he walks you to the medjack hut to ask for Clint or Jeff.

In the context of a relationship, Minho is more transparent with his concern. He's a bit more in your space, in a gentle way, inspecting the injury more closely and asking you more than once if you're alright. He's good at remaining calm. He's just focused on getting you the care you need. You can expect him to be a bit fussy after you're all bandaged up, insisting you take a break from running for a while.

Gally:

You had a slip-up with one of your tools, and you're trying to hide the evidence. You were not in the mood to draw the attention of the Keeper of the Builders with a minor mistake that you thought might make you look silly to him.

To your embarrassment, he happens to be walking by when you wince, shaking your hand to fan the slice on your finger. He stops immediately and approaches, and you quickly protest that it's nothing.

"Let me see."

You sigh and hold out your hand, gauging his reaction as he leans forward to take a look.

His lips pressed firmly together, brows furrowed in concern.

"Take five, Greenie," he tells you, nodding in the direction of the medjack hut. "Get yourself bandaged up."

If you do voice any other protests, the raise of his brow tell you they're futile.

In a relationship, Gally is less reserved about his worry. He knows things happen on the job. He can't exactly blame you. Sure, he'll scold any one of his guys if they were being a shank and got hurt doing something obviously dangerous, but for the average cut and scrape, he is actually pretty understanding. He'll still tell you to be careful while he inspects the injury more closely, but it's not from a place of frustration at you. It's his protective nature, and he just wishes he could protect you from even the little things.

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

FUCK YOU, don't leave me

Part Three: Heat (Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five)

Gally x Fem!Reader, NSFW!!

Considering your antics last month, your friends are shocked to see that both you and Gally have been allowed to come to bonfire night tonight. They would have been shocked to see both of you entering the woods only minutes apart, if they had noticed. Although this imminent confrontation is going to end in a very different kind of heat; the type that threatens to change your dynamic forever.

Genre: enemies to lovers, SMUT (starts abt 4.1K words in there’s lots of exposition)

Word Count: 7.3K  Read Time: 25 minutes (it’s a long one, ik, bear with)

Warnings & Info: protected, drunk p-in-v sex, despite the fact that both characters are drunk when they have sex there is very clear implied, physical, and verbal consent!! slight mutual masturbation, missionary, virgin!Gally & virgin!Y/N, underage drinking, strong language, “we shouldn’t be doing this” vibes, Gally's thoughts in green, Y/N's thoughts in blue

Author’s Note: I’ve never written smut before but I have had sex so how hard could it be? I hope you guys love this part; I absolutely loved writing the woods scene and I truly think it is the best writing of this whole fic thus far so tell me what you think! Part 4 will be the final part!

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

As you were cleaning the med-hut, Gally was changing out of his work clothes, taking a moment to wipe his face with a clean towel and inspect the muscles in his arms, feeling suddenly self critical. He had never really cared about his appearance before, but something about the content of his dreams lately had him wondering things he’d never wondered before, like if his hair was cut too short or if his muscles didn’t compliment his height. He cursed at himself for acting like a dumb teenager with a crush, but that didn’t stop him from picking out his best shirt, (the one he never wears while working), and running his hands nervously through his hair. He walked out of his hut quickly, trying to shake the thought of what expression might be on your face when you see him tonight. 

Now that you were back in your hut that you shared with all the Glade girls (Elsie, Lireale, Gia, Ariana and now, supposedly, tonight’s greenie who hasn’t remembered her name yet), you peeled your Med-Jack uniform off methodically. You hesitated over your clothing trunk before changing into the closest thing to a nice outfit The Glade affords you; a deep red, v-neck top with a small black bow in the middle of the v (courtesy of Lireale’s sewing skills) and black pants that are tighter fitting than your work pants. You were grateful that all of your roommates were already at the bonfire, as you were sure that at least one of them would’ve asked you snidely who you were trying to impress tonight, if they had watched you pick this outfit.

If everyone’s going to be staring at me tonight, I might as well look good.

You ran your fingers absentmindedly through your hair as you tried to shake the feeling that this idea of Alby’s was going to go terribly wrong. You were pretty sure Gally had moved past his murderous rage from that night, but that still left his regular rage, and that’s not much better. Although he did offer to stay home tonight which suggests a lack of rage entirely and besides that he’s probably been too distracted lately to want to come after you. Feeling you’d procrastinated enough, you walked to your door, prepared to face whatever fresh hell this night had in store for you.

As it turned out, there wasn’t much hell to be had currently. You and Gally had both been greeted by your respective friend groups with shock and delight. They were trying to be non-invasive and avoid pointed questions about how the hell you managed to be here tonight, but you both noticed their eyes darting between you two in the dim light of the bonfire, waiting for the tension to break. After settling into the festivities with a lot less apprehension, you decided to make a pit stop at Frypan’s table, to ask for something you knew you shouldn’t.

“Hey Fry!”

“Hey Firecracker,” you cringed at the nickname. “How’s your night going? Are you thinking of setting the place on fire again?” his eyes flashed mischievously.

“No no, my arson days are behind me, Fry. I could use a drink though,” you slipped in, slyly, hoping Alby hadn’t gotten to him first.

“Shit, you know Alby would kill me if I gave you one,”

Fuck, he had gotten to him first. Either that or he was just demonstrating common sense, you thought to yourself. It was actually the former. The day after the incident last month, Alby had forced Gally to clean out his entire stock of his drink and hand it over to Fry for safekeeping. He had also forbidden Fry from giving Gally any of the ingredients to make more. When Alby had finished with you earlier that night, he had marched straight up to Fry and made him promise under threat of a week spent in The Pit to not give you or Gally even a drop of alcohol tonight. Frypan had tried to tell him that Gally utterly terrified him at the best of times and he was sure he already hated him for taking away all of his drink in the first place. He further explained that you were a friend of his and because of those reasons combined he didn’t think he’d be very good at resisting either of you, but the leader wasn’t having it.

“Pleeassee Fry. You know bonfire nights are the only nights I ever drink. And I’ve been doing really good this month,”

“I don’t know…” Fry was getting nervous. On the one hand you had a fair point, one he’d already considered you’d make. On the other hand, he had just gotten back into Alby’s good graces after an incident of his own two months ago that involved an out-of-control smoke bomb and he didn’t want to jeopardize his leader’s favor.

“Just one glass, I promise I won’t do anything stupid. I just want to hang out with my friends,” Fry looked nervously from left to right, half expecting Alby to appear and scold him on the spot. But against his better judgement and in line with what he told his leader would happen anyways, he reached behind him and filled a mason jar of Gally’s signature elixir.

The night had quickly blurred into an orange colored haze from there. You downed your jar as quickly as you could, feeling the familiar warmth of it spread first to your cheeks then to the rest of your body. You laughed with your friends, played a convoluted drinking game with your fellow Med-Jacks, introduced yourself to The Glade’s newest female greenie (promising her that you weren’t normally this chatty), and got dared to take your top off by an equally drunk Slicer who’d always had a thing for you. You didn’t comply….obviously. And yet, through all the camaraderie and the feeling that things were finally getting back to normal after the horrors of this last month, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. You’d turn your head to try to find the pair of eyes responsible for this feeling, but that only led to more blurry vision, the alcohol in your system disagreeing with the movement. 

“I’m going for a walk,” you blurted out suddenly to Lireale, who’d been singing an abstract melody over a very out of tune guitar Thomas was absentmindedly strumming.

“What! Are you crazy?” she slurred back at you, trying to snap her mind back to reality to keep you from doing something excessively stupid for the second bonfire night in a row.

“I just need some fresh air,” 

“Are you fucking kidding me Y/N? We live in a Glade; this whole place is fresh air!” she hissed. You couldn’t help but giggle at her outburst. But something was nagging at you and you just felt like you had to get away from people for a while.

“I’m just gonna walk to the little river past the deadheads and then I’ll come back. Promise,” Lireale’s expression shifted from shock to exasperation. It was clear she wasn’t winning this fight and there wasn’t much use in arguing with you; you’d always been stubborn to a fault.

“Fine. But if you’re gonna go skinny dipping, make sure you keep your clothes right next to the water so no one can come over and steal them from you,” You smiled at Lireale’s practical advice, rising from your seat in the grass and giving her an unsteady kiss on the forehead before taking off in your desired direction.

Gally watched your slightly stumbling figure disappear into the darkness of the woods, his interest piqued. He’d been stealing glances at you all night, trying to ignore how much he liked the shade of your top and how he never noticed that you got even prettier when you got drunk, with your hair all astray and a giddy look on your face. Every time he’d feel that familiar heat of desire bubble in his chest, he would dig his fingernails into his palm, trying to use the pain to bring him back to reality. Despite his terrible nail-biting habit leaving his fingernails flush to the skin, they still left small crescent shaped markings and he was beginning to believe they’d become permanent with how often he was having to police his own thoughts.

His looks had gone from quick glances to several uninterrupted seconds of staring as more of his drink began to flood his bloodstream. He’d let Alby believe that he’d given his whole stock to Frypan, but he’d swiped a bottle from an undisclosed personal store under his bed before heading out for the night. No fucking way I’m doing tonight sober, he’d thought to himself before taking the first swig.

So now here he was, plenty drunk with his eyes blurry, his cheeks flushed, and his groggy mind just now beginning to realize that maybe adding copious amounts of alcohol to an already stiff inner cocktail of repression, frustration and desire wasn’t exactly the best way to calm his racing thoughts. He tried to snap out of his lustful haze by tuning back into the spirited conversation his friends were having around him as they lounged on the grass.

“...would fucking kill him before he even tried. Right Gally?” Ben asked indignantly, clearly looking for backup.

“What? Kill who?” Gally muttered, trying to focus his eyes on Ben’s face and figure out what side of this undoubtedly pointless debate he should be on.

“Minho wants to fuck Y/N,” Zart stated bluntly, flashing Gally an evil grin as he watched Minho’s eye widen with fear.

“I do not! I just said she was kinda hot!” Minho blurted back, his voice slurring. He did not want to start a fight with Gally over this of all topics and he was regretting ever mentioning this opinion in Zart’s presence, who he should’ve known wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“And I said don’t even think about it because you’ll fucking kill him if he gets within ten feet of her,” Ben finished with an arrogant tone. He was unaware of the sudden tension that fell over the group as they watched Gally think over this information. They were hoping they hadn’t set him off like last month’s incident when one of them, (no one could remember exactly who), revealed that Builder’s crush on you that made him pick a fight with you in the first place.

“Why can’t you shanks ever focus on anything other than girls?” Gally hissed, hoping his blatant hypocrisy wasn’t showing on his face. The group breathed a collective sigh of relief as he seemed no more angry at this prospect than he normally would be.

“Because we’re teenage boys,” Newt piped up from the corner, smiling to himself as he took a deep sip from the mason jar in his hands before passing it to Ben.

“And fantasizing about girls passes the time faster,” Ben continued, taking another sip from the jar and shuddering at its bitter taste. The rest of the circle grunted in agreement as he passed the jar to Zart.

“And we’re all pretty sick of just fucking our hands in the shower every morning!” Zart finished grandly, holding the jar in his hands in front of him like he was making a toast. This sent a chorus of raucous laughter through his friends and Gally went an even further shade of red. He was hit with the flashback of the fantasy of you that had him partaking in that very activity this morning when he suddenly realized he probably shouldn’t be around his friends anymore tonight. Too many eyes are on him and too many potential questions could be formed about just what had gotten him so flustered these past few weeks. 

“Alright guys, I’m turning in for the night,” Gally stated which elicited disappointed groans from all. “Hey somebody has to keep you shanks in line when you’re all hungover tomorrow,” he glared at a small group of the youngest Builders in The Glade, who had been listening in on the conversation without participating. Gally rose to his feet slowly to avoid stumbling like a drunkard and began taking off in the direction of his hut, nodding curtly at the goodbyes his friends called out. Minho scrambled to his feet upon realizing Gally was leaving and rushed to catch up with him, though his head was spinning quite unpleasantly.

“Hey Gally! I’m sorry about that. I’m not gonna do anything with Y/N, I swear. I’m just-I’m really drunk, man, and we were talking about our types and, ya know, which of the girls in The Glade are closest to it and someone brought her up and all I said was-” he rambled nervously as he half jogged next to Gally’s surprisingly swift gait.

“Jesus, Minho, calm down,” he shoved a forceful hand against the Runner’s chest. “I don’t give a shit man, I know it’s all talk,” he dismissed as he took up walking again. 

“Yeah all talk definitely definitely,” Minho repeated breathlessly, relief washing over him as he realized Gally hadn’t noticed how he was spending more and more of his dinners in the Med-hut with you these past few weeks. The increased closeness that was tentatively budding between you two wasn’t anything yet but whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t all talk.

“Get some sleep, man, Ben said you guys are running the outer sections tomorrow,”

“I will, in a bit. ‘Night Gally,” Minho stopped for a moment and willed himself to calm down. It’s nothing, he thought to himself as he meandered his way back over to his friends. I barely know her; we just started talking, he continued in his head. Gally probably won’t murder me if I make a move…probably. He was so preoccupied in his own anxiety that he failed to notice that Gally had veered very distinctively off course.

“Where the fuck is that shank going? I thought he was going to bed,” Zart exclaimed, watching Gally cross from the path he’d been on towards his hut to a path towards the woods.

“I don’t know, it’s Gally mate,” Newt responded, trying to sound nonchalant but secretly logging this in his mind to ask his friend about later when he was sober and during daylight hours. “Hell’ll freeze before we figure him out,”

Nobody from Gally’s circle of friends in the grass had seen you slip into the woods ten minutes earlier. And nobody from your group of friends by the bonfire had seen Gally change course to follow in your footsteps. The Glade remained blissfully unaware of the imminent collision of its two most-at-odds members. 

Gally wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone what made him change course for the woods at that specific moment. He knew he really shouldn’t have, and that the fallout of you two meeting face to face again would most likely end in strict punishments for both of you. But he couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment. He couldn’t deal with the searing heat that was coursing through his body just beneath his tanned skin for even a moment longer. 

Gally was steaming mad. Not at Minho, for thinking you were attractive, not at that Builder from last month for having a crush on you, not at Alby for punishing him, Newt for questioning him, his crew for making fun of him, the entire Glade for whispering about him or even at you for so consistently irritating him. He was enraged with himself for a multitude of reasons; letting his otherwise unperturbed mind be corrupted by mindless teenage sex fantasies, looking at you that night in the Med-hut when he should’ve just kept his eyes to himself, feeling the distinct burning of lust boil in his stomach, for the first time since he had arrived in The Glade. So he was going to do something about it.

He marched through the pitch black of the woods with a renewed vigor that sent a little more coordination through his drunken body. He finally spotted you in the exact spot you had told Lireale you would be in; sitting next to the little pond past the deadheads, your right hand absentmindedly stirring the still water. 

“Y/N!” he barked, making you startle as your ears took in the sudden gruff tone piercing through the silence of the woods.

“Gally?! What the hell are you doing here? Did you fucking follow me??” you yelled, spinning around to face him and jumping to your feet, ever-familiar venom searing through your body that was at peace moments ago.

“No!” Gally snapped back, his voice not reflecting the brief panic now filling his mind. He hadn’t thought about what he’d say to you until right now. “I’m just so fucking tired of this shit!”

“What the hell are you talking about now?”

Gally faltered slightly, trying to find a justifiable reason to be as upset as he was. Without warning, he found an abundance of them that began pouring from his lips like a suddenly opened dam.

“All of this! This whole last month; it’s been fucking ridiculous! You burned both of us for no fucking reason and now we have to tiptoe around everybody here like we’re fucking criminals. We had to apologize to each other like we’re fucking five years old and come to this stupid bonfire night again this month because Alby wants us to put all this shit behind us; but fuck that! I can’t fucking stand you, Greenie!”

Fuck, she looks really…

“Good! Glad we’re on the same fucking page Gally. And it wasn’t for no reason, you dumb shank; you called me a slut in front of the entire Glade! Did you think I’d just lie down and fucking take that?? And you’re not the one Alby threw in the pit every night for a month straight; count your fucking blessings, asshole, at least everyone doesn’t think you’re a deranged fucking arsonist!”

Is he seriously doing this now? I know his timing is always shit but…

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Everybody always thinks you’re just the defensive one but you start fights just as much as…”

“Me?! I would be perfectly happy to never get into another fight again but every time there’s something to complain about, we all have to hear it from….”

“You know that’s not true. Face it Y/N; you fucking love this!”

Silence snapped into place like the final piece of a puzzle as soon as those words left Gally’s mouth. You felt the heat of your anger traveling up to your cheeks but also down to your stomach, creating a dizzying sensation you weren’t familiar with. You barked a forced laugh to try to diffuse this new feeling.

“I love this? What the hell is there to love about this?!”

Is this why I’m always so mad at her? I mean what the fuck kind of coping strategy is…

“This is the reason you and I can get through all the bullshit of living in this prison. Because if we’re fighting with each other, we can’t really think about anything else,”

We’re insane. I think he might actually be…

“Right, so what am I supposed to do, thank you?”

“Maybe it’d be a nice change of pace,”

You both hadn’t noticed it, but you had been stepping closer to each other this entire exchange. You were no more than six inches apart now, breathing heavily, both sets of eyes roaming the other with greedy contempt, almost hungrily.

“Fuck you, Gally,” you finally managed to spit out, almost breathless, the heat in your stomach coiling into tight knots. “Fuck you, Y/N,” he hissed back, positively burning up now.

And suddenly, as if this had been the plan all along, Gally was grabbing your waist and pulling you into a hot, angry, pent-up kiss. His calloused hands grabbed at your hips as his tongue explored your mouth vigorously, finally connecting the heat that had been building up in both of your bodies. He was kissing you like you were the last woman on earth. And you might as well have been.

Despite any protests you should’ve had, you let yourself enjoy the sensation of being manhandled by Gally. He was feeling you up desperately, his hands now slipping underneath the fabric of that damn red v-neck top, snaking their way up your back and then back to the front, his fingers fiddling with the underwire of your bra. He felt his blood rush downwards to where he really wanted you and he was sure that with you pressed up against him, you could feel it too. He disconnected his lips from your mouth and started trailing hot kisses down your neck, sending stifled moans and gasps tumbling from your lips. You pulled away slightly and he adjusted his head to look you in the eyes.

“Are we really fucking doing this?” you questioned, trying for the same angry tone you had used before but your voice was too breathy now.

“Yeah. Fuck it,” Gally responded hoarsely, surprisingly accepting of this objectively insane situation.

“Then let’s go to your hut,” 

“Are you serious?” Gally questioned, only to be absolutely sure this wasn’t just a convoluted revenge plot.

“Deadly,” you whispered back. The heat in your stomach was now replaced by an intense pulling sensation. You needed him. In ways he couldn’t give you while you were both standing fully clothed in the middle of the forest.

Gally disconnected his arms from your body and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the original path he had told his friends he was taking. That felt like a lifetime ago. Bonfire night was still going strong in the distance, so undercover of the intense darkness of The Glade, you and Gally snuck in the back of his hut and he shut the door as quietly as he could. 

He crossed the room to where you were now sitting on the edge of his bed, (just like you had been in all of his fantasies over the past three weeks), pulled your red top over your head and threw it in a ball on the ground. He admired the expanse of soft skin that was now open to him as he stood above you. He wanted to really take it in now, not like that quick glance in the Med-hut, and several tension-filled seconds passed with his eyes roaming your chest greedily, watching it rise and fall with a quickened pace.

“Are you just gonna stare at me or are you gonna fuck me?” you snapped bravely. You could tell that the alcohol in your system had drafted that response. Gally shook his head slightly to break his gaze and looked apprehensively in your eyes.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” he faltered, hot guilt washing over him as he began to consider the consequences of this action for the first time.

“It’s a terrible idea,” you replied, chuckling slightly. You tried to look him in the eyes but couldn’t tear your blown pupils from his lips, which you wished dearly were planted back on your neck at this moment.

“We’re both really drunk,” Gally continued, tentatively running a calloused hand over your shoulders. You felt yourself ease into the contact, your heart rate rising to match your shallow breathing.

“We’re also not supposed to be anywhere near each other,” You lifted your arm to run a hand over Gally’s forearm. The strong muscles from years of manual labor felt like heaven under your soft touch. The Builder’s breath hitched at the innocent contact, feeling a mixture of comfort and lust spread through his body.

“We hate each other,”

“Well we don’t have to right now,” You let a smile spread slowly across your face.

Consequences be damned.

Gally didn’t respond to this statement, he just pulled his blue shirt off of his body and threw it on top of your red one. This triggered an avalanche of movement from the both of you as two sets of shaking hands flurried to undo belts, boot laces, and waistbands, worried that if they moved any slower, all momentum for this batshit idea would be lost.

When the movement finally slowed, you were both down to your underwear, you laying on Gally’s bed with your head on the pillow, your hair forming a halo around you. Gally was still standing at the side of it, his toned chest heaving, and you beckoned to him with your finger. You had both come to a non-verbal conclusion that the less you talked during this exchange, the better, and so a comfortable silence fell over the hut.

Before he joined you on the bed Gally rummaged in his bedside table for a small object he had long given up on ever using; a condom. These had started coming up in The Box every month as soon as the girls did. Alby had begrudgingly given a few to every guy in The Glade, muttering that he didn’t want anyone having sex in the first place, but if they did, he certainly didn’t want to increase the population.

Gally eased himself onto the bed, straddling your body, setting the small foil packet next to the pillow. He lowered himself down to you agonizingly slow, arms bent on either side of your shoulders. You rose your head to meet him, pink lips and alcohol-laced breath meeting once more. You pulled out of the kiss for a moment to bite down on his lower lip which triggered an uncharacteristic whimper to fall from his lips. He took this as a signal to begin placing needy kisses down your neck again, and though the heat of his lips felt divine on your skin, you wanted to move on to the main event. After all, you didn’t drunkenly strip down to your underwear in the living quarters of your worst enemy just to make out; if you’re going to make a terrible decision, at least see it through.

You started tracing your hands down his abs, hitching your fingers in the waistband of his boxers. Gally started a little at the contact, grateful that his face was pressed against your collarbone so you couldn’t see his blush deepening. He’d never had anyone touch him like this and he was quickly becoming addicted to it. All the fantasies he had conjured up of you in the past three weeks couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. 

He felt his blood throbbing in his cock as he left several purple hickies on your chest, lavishing in the moans you made whenever he’d bite down. He finally pushed himself up on his knees, shifting from side to side as he pulled his boxers off awkwardly, leaving himself now totally exposed. You took his cue, unhooked your bra and shimmied out of your panties, throwing them both off to the side. You both took a moment to admire each other, having to stay very still to avoid the blurred vision that came when you moved too fast.

He raked his eyes over your chest, admiring the curve of your tits that were previously concealed in your bra. Fuck, she’s hot. Without thinking about it, he reached for his cock with his right hand, slowly pumping himself as he trailed his eyes to the wetness pooling between your legs, his eyes widening and the knot beneath his navel begging for release.

You took your time admiring his hulking frame and the muscles flexing in his right arm as he quickened his pace, sliding his hand up and down his surprisingly-massive cock. You liked seeing Gally like this; his jaw slack, eyes glued to you, cock leaking precum that made his calloused hand glisten in the low light and most importantly, his mouth kept firmly shut. It was such a turn on, you reached your own right hand down to your heat and slipped a finger inside, pumping slowly and growing wetter by the second, preparing yourself for him. I can’t believe I want him, but I really fucking do.

As if he had read your thoughts, Gally took his right hand from his cock and his left from his waist to grab your thighs with both and spread them further apart. You removed your right hand from its place between your thighs and gently grabbed his cock, trying to mimic the pumping motion he had been doing moments before. 

Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Your hand on his cock felt about a hundred times better than his own and it was all he could do to suppress a moan. He let himself throw his head back, his eyes rolling, before the part of his brain that hadn’t gone fuzzy from the friction finally remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He put his large hand over yours and guided it back to its place next to your body. He then reached for the foil packet sitting next to the pillow and ripped it open quickly, sliding the slick latex over himself clumsily, needing to adjust it several times. He felt his cheeks grow hotter, feeling embarrassed at his lack of experience being shown so plainly but he shook it off quickly.

He gripped your waist with his left hand and with his shaking right hand, gently guided his cock to your slick opening. Lining up his tip to your willing hole, he pushed his hips forward slightly when a searing pain suddenly wracked your body.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed suddenly, jolting Gally out of the beautiful relief he had begun to feel. You grabbed his cock instinctively, keeping him frozen in place with just his tip sheathed inside of you.

“What? Are you ok?” he asked worriedly, his heart rate rising with anxiety. He was sure at this moment that you had realized how colossally stupid this was and you were going to shove him off of you, slap him square in the face and then run straight to Alby, who would ensure you’d never get this close to him again.

“I’m fine, it just stung a little bit. I’ve never done this before and…fuck, Gally you’re a lot bigger than I thought you’d be,” your voice was light and as soon as those words left your mouth you began to regret it. You watched a small smile spread quickly across the Builder’s face.

“I’m…big?” he repeated slowly. He’d never tell you, but this appraisal from you about his size had his heart leaping. Like any teenage boy he was naturally insecure in that department and hearing you use that adjective sent his ego inflating to a massive size.

“Fuck off! I’m a virgin, everything’s big to me,” you reasoned hotly, not wanting him to get any cockier than he already is. You were pretty sure that Gally would be considered big to any girl, regardless of their experience, but he didn’t need to know that you thought that. You let your grip around his cock go slack. Your body still wanted more of him even if it was going to prove slightly difficult now.

“So am I. I’ll just, uh, go slower? And you tell me how it feels, ok?” he responded with a softer tone that was laced with uncertainty. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing anyways so he would welcome the feedback regardless. You nodded slowly and he lined himself back up, pushing slightly inward again, watching your face scrunch up with pain again. He stopped, pulling back slightly.

“Hold on, I think I know what might help,” you said, readjusting your body until your hips were angled up instead of parallel to the bed so he’d be thrusting down, not forward. “Try again,”

“You sure?” he raised an eyebrow at you, beginning to worry this wasn’t going to work at all. Despite his long history of negative emotions associated with your presence, he found his mind cut through his lust with concern; he really didn’t want to hurt you.

“Positive,” you nodded, meeting his eyes with a determined gaze. 

Gally lined his cock up to your entrance for the third time, not having to bend over so much due to the new angle. He braced for your pained whimper as he pushed his hips down towards you but he got no such sound in response. Though it still stung slightly as he pushed his tip inside of you, a warm, pleasant pressure spread slowly beneath that feeling, starting to overpower it.

“Are you good?” Gally asked, trying to conceal the shake in his voice from the mind-melting pleasure he was getting from finally being half inside you.

“Yeah, keep going,” you muttered, trying to get used to the warm feeling of your body enveloping him.

He obliged quickly, sinking more of his cock slowly inside of you, gripping your waist tightly now. He was now realizing that it was going to be difficult not to cum after one stroke as the new sensation of your heavenly inner walls already had him teetering on the edge. The experience of his cock filling you up felt more and more natural the deeper he thrusted. He finally bottomed out with a groan, his pelvic bone now pressed against yours.

“Gally,” you moaned softly and he could definitely tell that it wasn’t a moan from pain. His cock twitched inside you at the sound. She’s moaning my name. I can’t believe this is real.

“Feeling good, Y/N?” he stuttered back, the pressure underneath his navel building up massively as he began to slowly thrust his hips back and forth, watching your face intensely for any sign of discomfort. Your face flushed at the sound of your name falling from his lips. He is big.

“Yes, fuck me faster,” 

You had meant for it to be a command but it came out in the form of a whimper. Nonetheless Gally complied quickly, cutting the time between each stroke in half, experimenting with pulling more of his cock out of you just to slam it back harder the next time. Your moans had begun to fill the air around him, just like he imagined they would. The feeling of your pussy wrapped so tightly around his cock, pulling him in, was so otherworldly it blew any sexual release he’d ever given himself with his own hand right out of the water. 

He forced himself to open his eyes and look down at you, your body recoiling from each thrust, sending your tits rippling in a hypnotizing circle. He stared down at where his cock disappeared inside you, practically drooling from the sight. He tightened his grip on your waist, now using his arms to pull your hips back and forth on his cock, instead of him thrusting his.

You started seeing spots in the corner of your vision at this new move. You could feel your wetness leaking down from where his cock was sliding in and out of you and the pressure was building in between your hips. You marveled dumbstruck at what little strength it took for him to move your entire body so easily. 

“Keep…going…like…that,” you managed to sigh between moans, your hands now reaching up to his shoulders, fingernails digging into his tanned skin. This stinging sensation sent shockwaves through Gally’s body, who now locked into his task with laser focus. He listened to the faint squelching noises of your wet core taking his cock so well as he slammed your hips repeatedly against his, even harder now.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re…so…tight,” he was having a harder time pulling you off his cock to thrust harder due to how hard your walls were gripping him.

“Gally…you’re so-….big. Fuck! You feel…sooooo…good,” you moaned back, almost crying from the feeling of how well his massive cock was filling you up. You felt like you were about to be ripped apart from the strength of his thrusts, but you just dug your fingernails into his back deeper and squeezed your eyes shut, letting the pleasure roll over your body.

Gally was trying to hold out for your orgasm but at the sound of his name leaving your lips again in such a sensual tone and the praise you were giving him for his efforts, he just couldn’t hold it in any longer. He felt the heat surge into his pelvis and barely had any time to warn you.

“Y/N…sorry...I’m gonna-” but his sentence was cut off by you pulling him down into another sloppy, wet kiss. As you pulled away from him slightly to bite down on his bottom lip, he felt his pleasure finally curl to a finish. He thrust violently into your pussy and held his position deep inside of you, feeling his warm cum spurt out of his pulsing cock and into the condom. He let out a few very undignified moans into your mouth, and was too high off the feeling of you wrapped around him to feel embarrassed about it.

“I know you didn’t-” he started, slowly opening his eyes to meet your glazed ones underneath him. You were coming down from the high a lot quicker than he was, your lack of climax not really bothering you as you somehow knew this wouldn’t be a one-time thing.

“It’s fine. Next time,” you nodded at him with a wink, watching the shock color his sweaty face.

“Wait,” he paused briefly, pulling his leaking cock out of your pussy, eliciting a groan from both of you, “‘Next time’?”

“Yeah,” you sat up gingerly to meet his eye level. “Isn’t fucking me better than fighting with me?”

“Well, yeah…”

He withdrew his legs from around you gingerly, reaching for the towel he’d used to wipe his face before he left for bonfire night. He removed the condom wrapped around him slowly and tossed it gently into the garbage by his bed. He then focused on wiping both of you down, trying to ignore the slight spin the room had now. He was still reeling but was trying to be functional. It’s certainly a hard line to walk between; hating someone so much yet cumming harder than you ever have while inside them. The mix of annoyance and need he felt while looking at you was curdling in his stomach, making him feel slightly nauseous.

“...but I didn’t think there’d be a next time. I didn’t think there’d be a first time. I mean; what the fuck is this?”

You took the towel from his hands and finished wiping yourself clean, then swung your shaking legs over the edge of the bed, turning your head to face Gally. You felt the absence of him inside you like a chunk had been taken from your flesh. You hadn’t realized how much attraction had been simmering under your hatred for him until the tension finally broke. But despite your confused feelings, you were determined to gain the upper hand on him and win the war of indifference.

“You’re seriously pulling a “what are we”?” you chuckled.

“No, fuck no,” he recoiled with disgust that was slightly forced. “Y/N, we're both drunk. I kinda thought we’d regret this in the morning and never talk to each other again,” He hoped that wasn’t the correct assumption.

“Is that what you wanna do?” you posed innocently, standing finally and turning to face him with your hands on your hips. You tried to keep your desire for him out of your tone and you weren’t sure if you were succeeding.

“Not really, no,” he muttered, dazed at his new view of you, his eyes scanning up and down your body. His cock gave a weak throb, somehow still slightly hard even after its monumental release.

“Ok well then, let’s just do this. But maybe, sober and not like, directly after biting each other's heads off? We don’t have to talk, just meet up and…” you trailed off suggestively, posing this proposal as you searched his floor for all the clothing items you had haphazardly tossed there. Gally reached down for his boxers and pulled them over his half-hard cock.

“You sure? I feel like you’re just gonna get really mad at me and we’ll have another thing like last month and I really don’t wanna-”

“Oh my fucking god Gally do you want to fuck me or not?? What is your fucking deal?” you snapped, pulling your shirt over your head and reaching for your pants, forgetting about underwear entirely. Gally suddenly knelt down in front of you, gripping your wrists in his strong hands.

“Of course I want to fuck you again, shank! You think I can cum like that from my own hand? I just think we hate each other and this is gonna end terribly. I’m trying to avoid getting burned again; literally” he accented the last word with an acidic tone, all the dizziness from his orgasm now completely worn off and irritation at your attitude replacing it. 

“Clearly the only time I don’t hate you Gally, is when you’re inside me so let’s just do that and we’ll be fucking fine!” You shook your wrists from his grip and finished pulling your pants up in a huff.

“Fine,” he turned from you to pick up his shirt.

“Great,” you stood up with your boots in your hands and sat at the edge of his bed to put them on. You both dressed the rest of the way in a stubborn silence, with you realizing you had forgotten your underwear and just opting to shove them into one of your large pockets and Gally trading his tough cargo pants for linen shorts. He usually slept in just his boxers but he didn’t want to be undressed around you any more than he had to be. The argument that sprouted took both of your attention from your confusing feelings of lust and fondness towards one another and back on a much more comfortable plane; arguing came as easily to you two as breathing.

You finally stood fully dressed and made your way to the door. You had your hand on the doorknob, ready to make your escape when Gally broke the silence.

“Wait Y/N. Are you good?” He didn’t clarify what exactly he was trying to check that you were good with but between the concerned look on his face and the earnestness of his tone, you could tell he was strictly referring to your trial and error in the bed earlier. Gally’s stomach was twisting into knots as you thought over your response with your back still turned to him. He was torn between genuine concern for your wellbeing and embarrassment at treating his enemy so gently.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered, turning to face him and nodding with wide, honest eyes. You tried to conceal the ambiguous pang that rattled your chest as you realized his care for you. Sure it was the bare minimum but this was Gally; kindness is not a strong suit of his.

“You’re not hurt?” he clarified, keeping his tone matter-of-fact.

“Um, I’m a little sore. Like I might have trouble walking tomorrow,” you broke out into a playful grin to diffuse the tension, “but that’s a good kind of hurt, you know,”

“Ok,” he nodded to reassure himself, chuckling slightly and relaxing slightly at your appraisal of the situation. “Can’t wait to see you limping around the Med-hut tomorrow,” he cracked sarcastically, returning your grin.

You scrunched your nose up and narrowed your eyes as you put your hand back on the doorknob. “Fuck off Gally,” you muttered without your usual flair as you swung the door closed behind you.

You snuck back to your hut in silence, realizing that was probably the only time you’d ever said that phrase and didn’t really mean it.

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

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

[majesty31]

Could you write a fic where the reader gets the flare instead of Newt and pls make it really angsty

𝙻𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞 | 𝙽𝚎𝚠𝚝 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒀𝒆𝒔 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆. 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒏𝒈𝒍, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑵𝒆𝒘𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑵𝒆𝒘𝒕, 𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓/𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝑵𝒆𝒘𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎. 𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕? 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒚, 𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎?

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆. 𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔, 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝑾𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑫, 𝒚𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒚. 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍.

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟑.𝟕𝒌

It had been a couple of weeks since you all had gotten rescued from the maze, and since you found out that WICKED were the ones to do just that. Being on the run was no picnic, one of the reasons being because you were an awful runner or more so you had almost zero stamina, and also the fact that everything that was wrong with the world was running through your veins as well.

You had noticed it almost instantly, the way you wouldn't be able to catch your breathing, sure you had bad stamina but it was never that bad, you felt dizzier rather fast and your mood swings were all over the place. You didn't think much of it until you saw your arms, the black veins were a clear sign of how far gone you were.

It did scare you, maybe more than you let yourself believe but you were also so tired. So tired of running from one bad person to the next, it felt as if this world was full of nothing but bad people, you truly didn't know if you'd find what the other gladers were searching for. A safe place. Away from the people who wanted you for nothing other than what was in your blood.

You hadn't told anyone what was going on. You knew if you did they would do anything to keep you from dying this way. Maybe even postpone getting back Minho. And you couldn't let them do that, he was the one person who gave you hope in the glade, who told you he would get you out alive. And you believed him. He kept that promise, and now you'd do anything to get him out alive as well, even if that meant sacrificing yourself.

But the thing was, if you did do just that, there would be one person who would never forgive you. He would do just about anything for you, he would even take this flare if it meant you would get to live. He had always talked about how it would be if you finally got out of the maze, but you knew it had nothing to do with the life he wanted. No, it was your life he was so worried about. He said that you deserved a life far beyond the glade walls, a normal life.

But nothing was normal about this life, in fact the glade walls gave you more normality than this dump. In all honesty you missed the glade, missed the laughs, the friends you had to leave behind. At least there were times when life felt okay, but now it always felt like a struggle to keep moving, and there were no times when life felt okay.

The only times life felt just a little bit better was with him. You could tell Newt felt the same you did, in fact they all did, but he never showed it. He would always try to make you smile, laugh, distract you from the world you all came to know. Your feelings for him would grow just that much more when he would do that. And you hated it.

Newt was the one person that you had to tell, but he was also the only person you couldn't. He would drag you off to find a cure, back to Vince and force him to heal you. But you couldn't do that, Minho needed you all, and you couldn't just leave him in that place to rot.

"You know this isn't what I thought the world would be like," Newt's voice cut through the silence. "I thought the maze was the worst it could get. You know," He turned to face you, his dark eyes meeting yours, a half smile on his face. "I actually thought our parents would be out here, looking for us."

"Maybe they are," You replied, your gaze moving over the broken down buildings, wondering how everything used to look before the world went to shit.

"I don't think things work out like that for us," His voice grew soft, his hand coming up to tuck away a stray hair behind your ear which caused your whole body to warm. "But they should, at least for some of us," you turned to face him, the look in his eyes causing your heart to flutter. It was as if every time you looked into his eyes, they would just automatically grow soft. When you first met him you thought that was just the person he was, but then you saw how they shown different for you. You never knew why.

And you were starting to hate the way he would look at you, as if you were the only person in the world, the only one who he would not just die for, but kill for. Soon enough you would be gone, and he would blame himself endlessly. You knew you had a deep love for Newt, one that you would never feel for anyone else, but those feelings would fade away with your soul.

"You need to stop looking at me as if you're in love with me," And there it was, the words you never wanted to say. But you just couldn't keep them to yourself anymore, someone had to know, and if you didn't tell him then did you truly love him at all.

"What?" His expression switched like a blink of an eye. He pulled away a little, his eyes turning concerned. For a second he looked as if he was about to deny it, tell you it was all in your head, that he wasn't in love with you, you were just a good friend. But then he sighed, and it looked as if he was about to confess to something you already knew. "How can I not,"

The words were so soft, and for some odd reason they hit deeper than they should have. You were silent for a little, your eyes locked on his as he poured out his feelings through that gaze alone. But you shook your head, your hands covering his eyes. He wasn't allowed to look at you like that when you could very well become a monster next week.

"Stop it Newt-"

"Why? You know that I've loved you for years. I never tried to hide it," He took your hand off his face, holding it more gently than you even thought possible. "And I know you feel the same. Why would that ever be a bad thing-"

"Because," You couldn't seem to finish the sentence, you wanted to, your mouth was open but the words were stuck in your throat, refusing to come out, refusing to destroy the only boy you had ever come to love.

"You can't even give a reason-"

"I can! But you won't understand why I kept it from you!" This caught his attention, worry and fear coating his whole face.

"What… what are you talking about?" He knew. Of course he did, it was obvious, especially to him, someone who spent as much time with you as he has. But he was to scared to uncover it for what it really was, and you didn't want to be the one to spell it out for him.

Your eyes turned sad causing his breathing to get faster. "I'm sorry Newt," He shook his head slightly, looking as if he was about to have some kind of panic attack. But before he got the chance to do that, someone bursted through the roof door.

"We have a way in,"

~~~

"Okay this is crazy," You whisper yelled to Gally as your eyes frantically snapped to a bound Tressa, who had a bag over her head. You didn't even know how they got her here without causing some big commotion, it was a ridiculous plan that would most likely not work. None of you should trust her, she was the reason you were all in this mess to begin with. Why on earth would she agree to help if she didn't agree from the start. She was the one who got Minho captured, and who knew what she was doing to him behind closed doors.

"This is the only way in Y/N. Do you want this whole trip to be for nothing? Or do you wanna get Minho back?" Gally whisper yelled back, his finger pointing to your face, as it always was when he tried to prove a point. At any other time you would've grabbed it and tried to break it, but you stayed quiet because this did seem like the only way in. "If you’ve got a better plan, I’m all ears. Otherwise, shut it and let me handle this.”

"Fine, but don't say anything stupid. If that's even possible for you," Without waiting for his response, you turned on your heel and stalked back toward the group. The others were seated in a loose semi-circle, all eyes fixed on Tressa like she might explode at any second. They looked as wary as you felt, but none of them said a word as Gally asked Newt to remove the bag from her head.

You and Gally had a strained relationship and never really got along in the glade, maybe because you were the first girl and he hated change, but you knew it was only because you had accidentally broken three of his fingers while training to become a builder.

You felt Newts glare before you even turned your eyes up, you could feel how mad he was at you from miles away, and Newt was rarely mad—especially at you.

Newt tugged the bag from Teresa's head, she blinked, adjusting to the sudden light, but your eyes stayed on Newt as he stalked back towards you.

He clutched the bag as if it would turn back time to the day you found out, as if he held it any tighter it would've made you gone straight to him with the news. But it didn't, and Newt could be as mad as he wanted, it wouldn't turn back time, and even if it did, you would've done the same thing over again.

You turned away when he took a seat next to you, his anger radiating off of his form, almost sucking out the air in your lungs. But you didn't say a word, and just watched as Gally spoke to Teresa, a little surprised that he threatened to cut her finger off but you didn't much care if he did. So long as you got Minho back.

Soon enough she agreed, and one by one you all got the chips out of your necks with a lot of reassurance from Thomas that she wouldn't just cut your throats while she was at it. Newts harsh stare was on you the whole time Teresa was cutting you open, a cloth in his hand as he dabbing the place where she took his chip.

You didn't know weather to glare back or just ignore him, you could understand why he was mad, you knew you would be furious if he did the same to you but it was over and done with, his anger would only make it worse from here. So you opted to just give him a blank stare, but that only seemed to make it worse.

Because after you were done, and began getting ready to go into the city, Newt came rushing towards you. No one was in the room, so it was just the two of you. Which let Newt almost yell at you from his place in front of you.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He asked, grabbing the gun you were just about to reload out of your grasp, his stare almost as piercing as a sward.

"I was reloading my gun," You snipped back, trying to grab it out of his hands.

"No you're not," He said as he moved the gun further out so you wouldn't be able to grab it. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying hard not to lose your temper. "You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you aren't coming with us-"

"Oh please Newt don't make me laugh. I'm not just gonna sit here while you idiots go into WICKED alone-"

"Yes you are. You aren't fit to go out there-"

"Fit?"

"Yes fit. Look at your state, you can barely keep up with the rest of us, you would only be putting yourself in danger if you come-"

"I'm not gonna let you all go without me understand? The only way I'm staying is if you tie me to a chair, otherwise I'm shucking coming!" Newt's anger seemed to grow like a wildfire, fems looked to be coming out of his ears, and his eyes looked almost as if he would be the one to kill you before the flare even had the chance too.

"You are one of the most selfish people I've ever met," Your brows furrowed, anger slowly coming into your blood as well.

"Me?" You yelled, slamming down the bullets you had in your hands on the table, causing a load sound to ripple throughout the room.

"Yes you!" Newt yelled back, stepping closer as he pointed to your chest. "You are so shucking self centred you that don't see the rest of us who have to deal with your bloody decisions," you were about to yell back but he cut you off real quick. "No it's my turn to talk and you will keep your mouth shut until I'm done,"

You were shocked, he had never spoken to you, or anyone else like this before, and to be honest it scared you a little bit. Newt was always such a calm person, he almost never got angry, he was always the voice of reason, the one to tell the others to calm down. But it was as if he finally exploded.

"How do you think I felt when you told me that you got the flare? That you had it this whole time, and that if you told us before we left we could've gotten you cured like Brenda. How can you be so selfish that you kept this from not just me but everyone else." He got closer the more he spoke, his anger only getting worse, but you kept your mouth shut. "You know I always thought you were this perfect person, someone who didn't have flaws, which always seemed impossible because everyone had them but for some reason you never did. That was until right now, you wanna know what your problem is?" It was silent, as if he was really asking you, and even if he was, you for once didn't know what to say.

"Your problem is that you don't care about getting hurt. But you know how I'll feel? I'll be devastated. And if you die I will go out of my bloody mind!" He was so close that you debated on weather you should take a step back or not. "you see death doesn't happen to you Y/N it happens to everyone around you. To all the people left standing at your funeral, if you'll even be able to have one, but we'll all still be trying to figure out how we're gonna live the rest of our lives without you in it!"

"Newt-"

"No! You don't understand how much I love you, if you did you wouldn't never kept such a thing from me. You would've never left me here to live without you!" You flinched, his words hitting you like a blow as tears threatened to slip down your face. At your reaction his face softened, his eyes turning warm as he slowly shook his head. "No I'm sorry I didn't mean…" He trailed off, taking a step closer, watching your reactions to see if you'd step away. And when you didn't he took your face in his hands, turning it up so your eyes would meet with his.

"I'm sorry," They were the only words that seemed to come out, the only words that would mean anything right now. You couldn't say much else, you couldn't go back, you could only make him forgive you before everything would go to shit. Before it was too late.

He didn't say anything else, his eyes holding so much love you thought you'd drown from just looking into them. When he moved, it was sudden, you didn't even get the change to catch your breath before his lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t gentle, not even close. His lips moved against yours with a desperation you’d never felt before, his hands sliding from your face to thread into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. It was like he was pouring every unspoken word, every ounce of his love, anger, and fear, into this one moment. There was no hesitation, no gentleness.

You couldn't stop yourself. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, your hands gripping his shirt tightly as if letting go would make him disappear. He groaned into the kiss, a sound low and husky that sent a shiver down your spine. His lips parted against yours, his breath hot and ragged. You could feel the tremble in his hands, the way his breath hitched against your lips, like he was terrified this might be the last time he’d get to do this. And maybe it would be.

When his hands slid down your sides, his grip firm, your knees buckled. He caught you effortlessly, lifting you from your thighs as though you weighed nothing, causing you to gasp softly into his lips.

For a second, you thought he might slam you against the wall, let the weight of all that anger explode into something even more uncontrollable. But instead, he carried you with a steady stride and sat you down in a chair.

The open mouthed kiss broke for a moment, just long enough for you to draw in a shaky breath, your lips swollen and tingling. Your heart pounded as he hovered over you, he had never looked so irresistible before with his hair messy and that look in his eyes that made your core burn.

His eyes locked onto yours, the love and anger swirling together into something almost unbearable. “You have no idea how much you mean to me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, trembling. “No idea how much it kills me to think I might lose you.”

Your heart pounded so hard you thought it might burst. You reached for him again, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him back to you. This time, the kiss was slower but no less desperate, a mixture of apology and promise, of everything you couldn’t find the words to say.

But then his hands moved again, and you felt the rough brush of rope against your wrist. You pulled back, blinking up at him in confusion, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Newt…" you started, your voice weak and breathless. But before you could even try to stand, he tied it quickly to the armrest of the chair.

"Don’t," he said, his voice low but firm, almost breaking. "Don’t make this harder than it has to be."

You snapped out of your haze then, tugging at your wrist, anger bubbling up inside you. "Newt, what the hell are you doing? Let me go right now!"

His hands didn’t falter, even as you fought against him. He moved quickly, tying your other wrist down, and then crouched to secure your ankles. You thrashed in the chair, rage filling every inch of your body. "Newt! Stop this right now! You can’t leave me here!"

"You’re not coming with us," he said, his voice strained but unyielding. His hands moved with purpose, tying the knots securely despite your struggles. "You can hate me for it if you want. I don’t bloody care."

"You can’t do this! Newt, please!" Your voice cracked as you tried to pull free, but he’d made sure you wouldn’t be able to. "I swear to God, if you leave me here—"

"You gave me this idea, you know." His voice wavered slightly, and he glanced up at you, his eyes full of something that looked heartbreakingly like regret. "Told me yourself the only way you’d stay was if someone tied you down. So here we are."

"Newt, no," you begged, your tone shifting to desperation. "Please don’t do this. I need to help. I can’t just stay here—"

"I’m not losing you!" he snapped, his voice louder then you’d ever heard it, making you freeze. He leaned closer, his face just inches from yours, his eyes blazing. "I won’t bloody lose you. Not to the Flare, not to WICKED, not to anything. Do you hear me? I can’t."

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. "You don’t get to make this choice for me," you spat, your voice trembling with rage.

"You made your choice when you kept this from me," he shot back, his words cutting deep. "Now it’s my turn." He stepped back, his hands still shaking as he tied the last knot. He stared at you for a long moment, his jaw clenched tightly. Then, softer, barely audible: "I love you too much to let you kill yourself for us. You’re staying here."

"Newt, please!" you screamed, thrashing against the ropes as he turned to leave. "Don’t do this! Don’t you dare walk out that door!"

But he didn’t look back. He was already gone. And with him, the rest of the group. The door slammed shut, leaving you alone, your screams echoing in the empty room. You struggled against the bindings until your wrists burned, but they wouldn’t budge.

You were furious—at him, at yourself, at the whole damn world. But beneath all that rage, buried so deep it hurt to admit, was the smallest flicker of something else. Love. Desperation. And a fear so raw you couldn’t breathe. Because you knew, as much as you hated him for it, that Newt had tied you up because he loved you. And you couldn’t hate him for that. Not really.

[nomoreusername]

What Dating The Maze Runner Boys Is Like

You met a few months into the Safe Haven

He was still processing his feelings about Teresa and you were still settling in so a romantic relationship wasn't on either of your minds

You did quickly become friends though, hanging out a lot and sometimes leaning on each other for support

Everyone could tell there were more feelings than you two were letting out but just waited to see how it would play out

You were the first to realize your feelings but weren't sure about his

Only when you pulled away to deal with yours, did he start to catch on that he wanted to be more than friends

One random night when he couldn't sleep he knocked on your hut and spilled absolutely everything the second you opened the door

You invited him inside, where you both sat on the floor drinking coffee and talking about everything

He moved in almost immediately because he was done wasting time when life was so sacred

He does hog the sheets so you had to get a second blanket, but it was totally worth it

He’s basically glued to your hip and really protective of you but in a cute way

You were a Medjack and ended up getting close to him because you helped him with his leg

You never learned what happened, and he barely said a word when you were helping so you didn't bother to ask

When eventually all he had was a limp, he ended up seeking you out one Greenie night to thank you

From there, you two became genuine friends but you still never learned or sought out what happened to his leg

He would sometimes visit you during work, just to talk and say hi

You were always more than happy to have him, which Clint and Jeff would sometimes tease you about

During one of the times he was just talking about the garden you realized that you had fallen for him

Not wanting to waste any time, you asked if he’d like to hang out the next Greenie night with just you, as a date

He went silent out of surprise but also because it made him realize that he took had fallen for you

The date went so well you two would get together every other Greenie night

Your relationship was a mix of hurt/comfort and strangers to friends to lovers

You two met on the night of the storm because you're kind of like Brenda’s adopted sibling

You watched him get struck by lightning and offered to see if there was any damage, which he declined heavily

You were iffy about his attitude, and he was iffy about some random stranger trying to help him

You sort of just watched the drama of him getting strung upside-down down but didn't pick sides

He was growing resentful towards everyone there, including you

When you ended up being one of his only hopes for Thomas though, he settled on being civil

The problem was that he found it hard to just be civil when he actually got to know you

When he got taken by WCKD, you ended up being dragged along too, just to be another variable

You couldn't directly talk, but you exchanged notes through doors daily, which became his reason to hang on

When he freed himself his first thought was getting you out with him

When you got to the Safe Haven you both took it slow despite the feelings being obvious because of everything you had been through but you got there nevertheless

You two didn't get along very well in the Glade for reasons you couldn't quite figure out

This left you definitely confused when you saw him “die” because you felt a heartache like like other

You had to be dragged away from his side

The Gladers were kind of confused by your reaction but didn't press it since you were obviously distressed

You tried to figure that out during any second you had that was free but just couldn't put your finger on why it affected you

He didn't remember that so he just did his best to forget about you and everyone when he was picked up by Right Arm

When you found out he was alive in the city, you just froze in disbelief

He took that as anger so after Thomas punched him also looked at you

Instead of doing anything like that you just ran up and hugged him while blurting out that you love him, which caught everyone off guard

That’s when he realized why you had been stuck on his mind but since he was too shocked to speak he just kissed you

It was very up and down, but it was worth it in the end

You met in WCKD, when you sat with him to get a break from the people in your Maze

Neither of you really talked, you because you were tired and him because he didn't know what to say

You ended up talking when he ran into you also trying to escape that place and helped you

You two were in the same boat of not knowing where you friends are so you sort of bonded over that in the Scorch

You ended up becoming really close unofficial friends which made him getting taken by WCKD really painful

During the time you were apart you both ended up realizing your true feelings for one another

When you rescued him, you both kind of didn't know how to say it

Harriet and Sonya realized though and gave him a gentle nudge

He pulled you away from everyone on the bonfire night and told you how he really feels by the ocean

You didn't know what to say so you did the next best thing and kissed him

It was a really painful slow burn with a pretty happy ending