#maze runner fanfiction

[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.

[majesty31]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 | 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒂/𝒏: 𝑯𝒊𝒊, 𝒔𝒐 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒓𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅, 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒍, 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉, 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒃𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒓𝒔, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒈

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟑𝒌

The day you first entered the maze you knew something was off, not just the obvious fast that you were a girl in a glade full of boys but also your memories. You remembered. And not just the little bits and pieces the other boys did but you remembered faces, names, and the maze.

You didn't know the reason why you'd been sent to the maze, and you didn't remember who had sent you there but you remembered the maze and the glade, as if you'd been their before or seen it somewhere. You remembered the boys, you recognized their faces and that freaked you out more than you let yourself know. But there was one boy who you recognized more than the rest, you knew his name before he told you it and you knew he was a runner.

Minho.

You never shared this with any of the boys for you knew that they would most likely throw you in the maze to die. You feared everyone when you realized it, feared they would kill you, slice you in half and string you up for everyone to remember, so you stayed away from everyone and never talked. You felt something deep in your chest that made you feel as if you were different from them, as if you were sent here for different reasons. And it scared you.

All the boys were really nice to you, they all tired to get you come out of your shell, they would tell you it was okay to be scared but they didn't understand the reasons you were scared in the first place. You didn't fear the maze or the things that were inside, you feared them, and your secret.

And after two months of silence from you they all begun to wonder and worry. They made up their own conclusions as to why you never spoke and why you shut down whenever they came near. Some said you were just a scared little girl, others said you were mute and the rest said you were stupid. They were a wrong, they didn't know a thing about anything. About the maze, about the people who sent you all here. They were as clueless as a lamb for the slaughter.

But you hated it in there, you hated being trapped, you hated being the only one with memories and you hated that you didn't know why the hell they put you in there. Why they put all of them in there. No matter how hard you raked your brain you just couldn't think of one reason.

"Minho," You were surprised at the sound of your voice, it was a lot different than you had expected, and Minho who had turned around so fast that the water in his cup splashed all over your face must have thought the same thing.

That morning you had woken up and thought enough was enough, you were going to stop hiding around and wallowing in your own self pity and do something to get out. You were done with not talking, you were done with ignoring everyone and you were done with wondering how the hell to get out of here. It was time to go in there and see for yourself. And Minho was the one and only way to do that.

"Holy shuck," He whispered, stepping closer to your wet form, he didn't seem to notice how your face was dripping or it was just that he didn't care. His face was full of shock, or was it awe? You didn't know, all you did know was the way Minho was looking at you right now made your stomach turn in a way you've never felt before. "Say that again,"

"Do you not see my face?" You questioned, refuring to the water still dripping off. Then it seemed to click. His eyes widened and a small smirk made way on his face. One that you loved.

"Sorry," He said as he tired wiping it away with his sleeve, which only irritated you more. You pushed his arm away but he didn't even seem to care, for the look in his eyes never vanished. He seemed as if in a daze, or dream.

"Will you stop?" You questioned, shifting under his stare.

"Stop what?"

"That,"

"What?"

"Never mind its not important, what is important is why I came to talk to you," You said with a roll of your eyes, this only made the boy worse it seemed. You furrowed your brows but continued. "Uh anyways. I came here because I wanted to ask you about becoming a runner," It grew silent for what felt like forever, as if he was processing what you had just said.

"Are you joking?"

"Does it look like I joke?" He scanned your serious face for what also felt like forever.

"You? The girl whose never said a single word since she came from the box for who knows why wants to become a runner?" You nodded. And then he started laughing. You stared, watched and waited until he was done. Your jaw was clenched as were your fits. You did not find this funny.

"I'm serous. I think I can help,"

"I don't think so shebean," He patted the top of your head as if you were some child which only added to the irritation. You slapped his hand away before grabbing him by the coler of his shift and pulled his stunned face twards yours, your lips close, and your eyes never left his wide ones.

"Don't treat me like a child Minho. I know you must think the reason why I didn't talk was because I was scared but you sorely wrong. I know more than you think about the maze, I know I can help you, I can help us all get out. I know you haven't found a way out, I know you've searched the whole damn place and still nothing. You've lost hope and you think there is no way out, but I know there is and I can help you find it," He stood there shocked, his mouth opened but he didn't have a word to say.

"Okay," And thats how you became a runner. For the next week you trained and then finally you went into the maze. And it was like you expected, all familiar. You didn't feel scared as you ran next to Minho, and you realized how you already started turning before Minho had even told you were to go, as if you knew the way.

And Minho noticed this. He noticed it all. He saw the way you knew the maze as if it were written on the back of your hand, he saw the way you knew the order to which walls would open what days and it was starting to scare him. You knew far to much for someone who just started. But as much as it scared him he never said a word, he was going to at first but than something happened.

You happened.

He started to fall for you, and he hated himself for it. He was like every other shuck face in the stupid glade. But he didn't care, for when he was with you which seemed to be all the time, he felt as if he weren't in the glade, he felt as if they weren't trapped in a death prison with no escape. He felt alive, he felt sane and he felt a sense of normality.

And he just couldn't seem to get enough of you, you felt like a drug to him, and he caught himself thinking about you at the most random times, he would think about you in the dead of night, when everyone was asleep he was up, thinking about you. And he just couldn't keep you out of his head, no matter how hard he tried it just seemed impossible.

As for you, you felt a connection with the boy, one you've never felt, one you never thought could even be possible. He was like you other half, as if someone had ripped you apart and know you had found each other, making the other whole again. But you were still scared, each night you would have dreams, each reveling more and more of the past, and each one was filled with Minho.

You didn't know if they were just dreams or if they were memories, you hoped each morning they were just dreams for what you did to him was something you knew he would never forgive you for, something he would maybe even kill you for.

So you kept you mouth shut about them as-well.

And after three months another greenie had come up, one that you recognized in an instant, and before you even remembered his name you did. You had seen him in your dreams, but he was different, he was reblouse, and you knew he did something to get him put down here, but you just couldn't remember what it was. And it was driving you crazy. For you had little bits and pieces of it but not the full puzzle.

And too soon, much to soon the boy became a runner, a lot of things started going wrong the second he showed up, and everyone saw this. But no one said a word about it other than Gally of course. But the rest saw hope in him, a hope that maybe he was the key to getting out, so when Minho had declared him a runner everyone kept their mouths shut when you three entered the maze.

But that day, was a day you would never forget, a day you wished never happened, a day he wished never happened.

You were running a good distance behind Thomas and Minho, looking around the maze when you spotted it. It looked awful, worse than any nightmare, worse than any monster and you new that you wouldn't be able to get away from this thing. It was too close.

But you tired anyways, yelling out to the boys and running faster than you had before, the greavior right at your heels, screaming and snapping its jaw as if trying to catch you in its mouth.

When Minho saw you he knew, and it made his heart drop, it was too close, it was too fast, and you were already tired from the run. He could see you struggling to keep moving, he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the cold fear laced in your eyes, he wanted to run towards you and take your place but Thomas grabbed his shirt pulling him to run before him.

But Minho stopped running altogether the second he heard your screams, screams he knew he'd hear in his nightmares, screams that made his heart shatter into a million pieces. He turned around, his eyes going towards your screaming and bloody form that was laid on the cold stone floor. The greivor was on-top of you, its jaw inches from your crying face, the only thing that kept it away was the stick that was pressed agents it, one that you must have found near you.

He had never heard cries or screams like this and he hopped he would never hear them again. He tired running towards you but thomas held him back, yelling at him to keep going and how it was to late for you, but Minho was barely listening to him, his eyes were fixed on you. He felt his whole body shaking, he thought he might cry, yell something, anything. This couldn't be your ending. He didn't even get to say everything he wanted to. He never told you his feelings, or how much he thought about you, or how he craved to be kissed by you or even just hugged by you.

It all felt as if it were happening in slow motion, Thomas's yelling was background noise, as was you, all he could hear were the same thoughts in his head. You can't leave her. You can't leave her. You love her. You love her! They were yelling at him. His heart felt as if it would explode, he just wanted this nightmare to end. It had to end now!

You screamed louder, so loud that Minho was sure they heard you from all the way in the glade. You felt something stab your side and just like that you blacked out.

Minho and Thomas ran towards you the second the greavior ran off, leaving you there, bloody, crying and violent. You were stung. Dread filled both boys when they saw you, how you acted. They knew. And no matter what you were ruined.

They dragged your body back to the glade, all of the boys were already at the opening. They must have heard your screams.

~~~

You woke up with a gasp, sitting up with wide eyes as you looked around the room, trying to figure out where the hell you were. The room was dark, and empty except for a body that was slouched over on a chair. Minho.

You tired moving off the bed but this only woke him, cauing him to move towards you, worry written all over his face. You back away, tears coming to your eyes and your hands pushing at him. He was confused, and looked to be scared. You don't think you've ever seen him scared.

"Y/N wha-"

"Get away from me!" You yelled, falling off the bed completely when he tired to reach out to you again. You were quick to stand up but he was also quick to reach you.

"What the shuck is going o-"

"Stop Minho please don't come near-"

"Why not!? What did I do? What did you see?" Your hands were shaking, your face was wet and you were so scared. He could see it. And it only made him more and more worried.

"You," He blinked, confusion taking over all other emotion.

"What?"

"I saw." You paused, catching your breath and calming your nerves. "I saw you,"

"What did you see?" He asked again. Stepping a little closer. You looked at the ground, knowing if you told him you might lose him forever. You had grown to love him, and you were starting to wonder if maybe he felt the same.

"You will hate me Minho,"

"I couldn't ever hate you." You shock your head. He was right in front of you now. You could see his shoes and feel his warmed. He lifted your chin, his eyes connecting with yours. "It doesnt matter what you saw."

"Yes it does," You whispered, taking his hand away from your face. "Minho. I did this to you." His brows furrowed.

"Did what?" He already knew what you were talking about and he didn't know why he was even asking, but he wanted to hear it from you.

"I put you in here. The whole time you were here I was-I was watching from the other side. I saw everything that happened to you. I was in charge of you Minho," He blinked. And everything clicked. Why you knew so much about the maze. He didn't even know what to say, he didn't know how to react.

"What?" His voice was quiet, you've never heard him so quiet. He seemed confused, betrayed and hurt. He backed away from you causing your heart to drop to your stomach.

"I-I was your doctor, I did the tests. You were my test subject, you were the one I was responsible for..." You stopped, your voice breaking when you saw a tear slip from his eyes.

"You?" He was hurt, his heart was shattered. "You did this to me!" He yelled, making you flinch. He trusted you, more than he's ever trusted anyone else before, he fucking fell in love with you. And you were behind all of this! He couldn't believe his ears. He didn't want to believe it.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Sorry doesn't do shit! It doesn't make it all better! No matter what you fucking sa..." He paused, looking at the ground as you heard a sob. "You did this damage to me, to us. You traumatized us all and for what?"

"I-I don-" He moved so fast, so fast that you got wiplash. He pushed you agents the wall, taking both hands and pinning them to the wall.

"You what!?" He yelled. You let out a sob, shaking your head as you looked down. "Look at me!" You didn't do it, you couldn't look into his eyes without it ripping your soul into pieces. But he lifted your chin up, making you look into his eyes. "You what?"

"I don't know why, it hasn't all come back to me yet," he let go of you and took a step back, giving a small laugh as he shock his head.

"Isn't that fucking convenient," You were scared. He never acted this way. "You don't remember why. But it must have been pretty fucking important if it meant to traumatize and experiment on teenagers. Fucking children!"

"But that isn't me anymore!" You yelled back. "I don't know who that girl is anymore. I don..." You felt as if you were going to have a panic attack, you didn't know how to explain it to him, and you were so scared you had just lost him forever.

"Y/N?" His voice was like a background noise. You felt lightheaded and so warm. This wasn't good. You felt yourself waver and stumble. And soon he was right by your side, holding onto you so you wouldnt fall.

"Minho," You cried. "I know. I know you hate me right now," You felt as if you were going to black out at any moment now but you had to say this before. "But I would never do anything she did. I would never hurt you, and I'm so sorry I did," You were only being held up my Minho at this point. You couldn't see his face, you couldn't hear his voice. And then you blacked out.

[riordanness]

— say don’t go - [tmr!newt]

wordcount: 0.9K

warnings: uh- you have the flare

requested: no

We’d been running for… how long? It felt like forever. Days and days of scorching heat, oppressive sunlight, harsh winds. My throat feels dry all the time, my eyes ache, and my legs are rubber.

At least I have Newt. No one could ask for a better friend. He’s always there for me, right beside me no matter what. He gives me the water even though I know he must be just as thirsty as I am.

He makes sure he’s the one carrying the pack we’re supposed to be sharing; he’s always taking my turns.

How can I tell him I know I’m not immune? That the cranks scratched me back in that old warehouse a few days ago? The weight of knowing my days are dissolving in front of my eyes is so heavy I can barely breathe. What should I do? What does anyone do, knowing you’re about to die?

I know I have to tell him soon. I can’t keep putting it off — it’s killing me in more ways than one.

Minho calls for a stop hours after nightfall. I have lost complete track of time; too lazy to keep track with my wristwatch. My head is fuzzy enough as it is.

Newt glances at me, and gives me a weak smile. I try to return it, but I can’t. I collapse to the ground, my knees giving way after one too many hours of walking.

Newt is at my side in an instant. “Are you alright?”

I try to nod my head. “Just… tired. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He holds out our shared water bottle. There’s barely a gulp left in the bottom.

I shake my head. “You take it. I had it last.”

“No.” Newt is serious. “You need it more than I do. Besides…” He hesitates, but doesn’t continue. I’m too scared to ask what he means.

I eventually give it and take the water, the few semi-cold drops helping immensely. I feel my body shutting down, my eyes trying to close.

Newt shifts over to sit beside me. “Go to sleep, love.”

I don’t even try to stay awake. I lean against him and am instantly in darkness.

The next thing I know, I’m startled awake. I don’t know why, as it’s still pretty dark, the air is still cool, and none of the boys have stirred. I wonder briefly if a sound in the night woke me, but I see and hear nothing.

It’s probably just the growing anxiety and disease taking over my brain. I inch away from Newt, desperate not to wake him. He’s been doing so much for me, for everyone. I owe him my life ten times over, and I don’t want to disturb maybe the last peaceful sleep he may get.

I get to my feet, and my eyes stray to Newt’s sleeping face. I have a ridiculous urge to touch his cheek. He looks so soft and pretty and perfect, just laying there.

I force myself to turn around. I walk a minute, until I stumble across a little boulder and sit down, my chin in my hands. This illness inside of me is eating me up. I can feel myself fading away, everything that makes me me slowly dissolve into nothing.

I don’t know how long I sit there, despairing.

Eventually, someone approaches. I can tell by the slightly uneven footsteps who it is even before they speak.

“Hey, Newt.” I have no emotion in my voice, struggling to keep it even.

“Y/n,” he replies, gently sitting beside me. “What’s up, love?”

I shrug. “Nothin’.”

Even though it’s too dark to tell properly, I know he’s got his you-are-such-a-bad-liar face on. “Y/n.”

I sigh. “Okay. Fine. I—“ But the words die in my throat. I can’t seem to find the right way to tell the boy I love more than anything that I’m about to, well, die.

“You have the bloody Flare.” The anger in Newt’s voice takes me by surprise more than the fact that he knows.

“What—“

He slams his hand into the rock we’re sitting on, cutting me off. “It’s not fair!” He hisses. “We have to fix this, we have to—I cant, lose you—“

His voice cracks, and I hear him inhale sharply, like he’s trying not to cry.

That makes me break down. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I sob. “I just—I didn’t want… I don’t know. I just don’t want this.”

“Nobody shuckin’ wants the Flare, Y/n.” Newt’s voice is gruff, but almost teasing, a little reminder of what we used to be together. Joking, teasing best friends.

That makes me break down completely, and I cry heartbrokenly into my hands. I feel Newt wrap his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I cry into him, clinging to his shirt like it’s my life.

“Newt,” I manage. “I’m going to die.”

“No you’re not.” His tone is firm. “I’m not gonna lose you. I—I love you, ya dumb shank.”

“What…?” My tears come to a hiccuping stop, and I lift my head to look at him. “You…”

He lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. Sorry. Bad timing?”

I shake my head, a smile on my face despite it all. “I love you too, idiot.”

“Oh,” Newt laughs. “Oh, okay. Good.”

I lean towards him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “Just hold me, please? Help me forget for a while.”

And Newt does exactly that.

[hollybell51]

can you post newt x female reader smut? i had a look at your wattpad and noticed that you already had some but it's in the old style (i'm assuming it's your old style) and i really like how you write now (the stuff you post on here). obv only if you're comfortable with it, btw i love your work!

First of all, I'm glad you like my stuff! Secondly, I sure can! I've got some brand new things I cooked up a while back, and I would be delighted to share the love xxx

Just like that

Series masterlist, masterpost

Newt x fem!Reader

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

Word count: 2318

Summary: shameless Newt smut. Enjoy.  

Content: smut. Porn with like the tiniest hint of a plot. Friends with benefits type beat. Making out, blowjobs, hickeys, light praise kink (kind of), light dirty talk, masturbation (kind of), hair pulling (reader is the puller), cowgirl position (sort of??? Idk??), al fresco lol 

Notes: I’m so sorry I have no idea how to tag this stuff. Literally what’s in “content” is in it, there might be stuff that I forgot so I apologise but it’s basically just what you’d expect from smut (I’m pretty basic)

You were kissing Newt. Or maybe Newt was kissing you, since he’d started the whole thing when he had put down the now empty cup of hot tea the two of you had been sharing, sheltered behind the partially rotted corpse of a massive tree, and taken your chin between his strong fingers, turned you to face him, then very deliberately pressed his lips against your own. You’d just smiled and let him, giving as good as you got. He still tasted like the drink, the sweetness of the honey you’d insisted on adding coating his mouth. And so it was that you came to be locked in a soft embrace now, with your movements lazy and relaxed as you took your sweet time exploring each other. 

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence; you liked Newt and he liked you, and both knew it. It was nice to have a sort of outlet every now and then, someone who you didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than yourself around, and who didn’t pretend around you. And that’s what Newt was, and what he had been for some time, ever since a few months ago when the two of you had found yourself drunkenly making out behind the homestead while the other Gladers enjoyed a bonfire. 

Now, Newt’s hand had found its way to your breast, tracing circles over the material of your shirt and making your skin prickle. You traced a line along his jaw, your finger trailing down his neck to rest on his shoulder. You shifted yourself slightly, angling your body further towards him to ease the suggestion of a stiffness threatening to grow in your neck if you kept up your current position much longer. Newt’s mouth was still soft on yours, his tongue stroking your own lazily, but something about him was saying that he wanted more – or would soon. 

“Do you want me to suck you off?” you asked, breaking the kiss. The two of you had decided a while back that being open and up front was the way to go – “candid,” Newt had stated solemnly, and you’d agreed. 

He seemed to consider for a moment, then glanced around to check for anyone in the immediate vicinity. The fallen tree trunk you were sitting against wasn’t all that deep into the deadheads, and while it was huge and had served as an excellent shelter numerous times before, it never hurt to be careful. It wasn’t that either of you were ashamed of your standing with the other – your “situationship” you jokingly called it – it was just that it would be awkward to get caught. 

Now, Newt smiled at you and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, placing another gentle kiss on your lips. 

You returned the smile, slipping your hand under the waistband of his pants, massaging his cock gently. You felt him grow hard, and when you were satisfied, you deftly unzipped his pants. You smiled again, spitting into your palm and resuming your light ministrations. 

Newt raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat. “Love, that’s wonderful, but quit teasing.” 

“Magic word?” you grinned. 

Your friend sighed, rolling his eyes. “Please,” he huffed. 

You nodded, licking your lips before gently kissing the tip of his dick and lowering your mouth over the head. Newt gave a tiny moan – well, something between a sigh and a moan – and moved his hand to your hair, his fingers tracing patterns gently over your scalp. You really liked giving blowjobs to Newt; he was always so gentle and considerate, and it never even felt like you were “giving” him anything. Sure, his dick was in your mouth, but it was more like something you were doing with him, something nice and fun and extremely gratifying. Especially when he talked to you, which he was doing now. 

“That’s it love,” he murmured as you swirled your tongue around him, your hands working what wasn’t already in your mouth. “God, you’re good at this.” 

The praise lit a warm glow inside you, and you sank your head lower. Newt’s breath caught in his throat as you hollowed your cheeks, the tip of his dick now almost touching the back of your throat with every bob of your head, your hand still taking care of the base. It was as slow and laid back as your kisses had been just minutes before, and you loved every second. 

You continued like that, basking in Newt’s grunts of “yes” and “fuck” and the occasional “God, (Y/N)” before his fingers slid from your hair to under your chin, prompting you to stop. You released him with a wet sort of “pop” sound, licking your lips delicately while still holding his throbbing cock in one hand. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright as he looked at you. Your own face was warm, matching the not entirely unpleasant heat you’d felt building between your legs. 

“Take your pants off and come here.” He patted his lap, kicking his own pants further down his legs. 

You grinned. “Is that an order or an invitation?” 

“An invitation, since you never do anything I order.” 

“It’s cause you never say please,” you deadpanned as you shuffled out of your pants, discarding them and your underwear to one side. You swung a leg over Newt’s hips, straddling him, and placed your hands either side of his face. “How’s this?” 

“Yeah, not bad,” he nodded, his own hands easing your shirt upwards. You let him, lifting your arms obediently as he slipped the piece of fabric over your head and sent it the way of your pants. He kissed along the line of your bra, then, watching your face carefully, reached around and undid the clasp. He caressed your breasts softly, sweetly, and slowly. That really did seem to be the theme of the day. 

“Hey,” you said after a moment when he made no move to take his own shirt off, your hand coming to rest over his. “How come I’m naked and you’re not?” 

He shrugged, twisting his hand to entwine his fingers with yours. 

“Hardly seems fair,” you breathed, sliding your hips over his. 

Newt’s breath caught in his throat once more, and he rolled his eyes at you. “If you insist.” 

“I certainly do.” You pushed his shirt up, pulling it deftly over his head and tossing it to the side before laying your palms against his warm skin. You knew there were things Newt liked more than his own body, but you’d never really understood why. Sure, he was skinnier than some of the other boys, and his leg was a continuous chip on his shoulder, but you thought he was hotter than anyone you could name off the top of your head and you made sure he was aware of the fact. 

In fact, the first time he’d expressed anything resembling insecurity, you’d been watching him get dressed after a night well spent, idly pondering how perfectly formed he was, how smooth and seamless every movement was even with the addition of his limp. You’d been so caught up in watching the dance of his lithe muscles under his skin that you hadn’t even noticed the apprehensive look on his face as he turned away from you. 

“Can you… not watch me?” he’d asked hesitantly as he pulled on his shirt. 

“Huh?” you’d frowned, sitting up. 

“You were staring, can you not do it?” 

“Oh.” You’d felt your face colour and had looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry.” 

“‘Sfine,” he’d said. 

You’d asked why, hesitantly and as politely as you could. You just couldn’t work out why this boy, who was totally comfortable making you plead his name as your thighs squeezed around his shoulders and your fingers pulled his hair enough to make him moan (which was how you’d found out he liked his hair being pulled, but that was a story for another time), couldn’t deal with you watching him get dressed. 

He’d shrugged, then turned around and spoken directly to the wall beside your head. “I don’t really like how I look.” 

You were baffled to say the least, and had very nearly burst out laughing. “But you’re so…” you’d said instead, stumbling for the right words. “You’re so hot,” you’d blurted at last. 

Newt had shrugged again, bending to lace up his boots. “Maybe to you.” 

After that, you’d taken every opportunity – ones that weren’t too obvious, of course – to subtly express just how attractive you thought he was. From outright whispers of “fuck, you’re hot” mid tryst to casually proclaiming him gorgeous in the middle of a conversation, you really did take any chance that presented itself. And now was no different. 

“Damn,” you smiled, bending to place a kiss on his collar bone. “You’re fucking sexy, you know that?” 

“Look who’s talking,” he scoffed, but you caught the tiny upward twitch of his mouth. He brought your hand to his face, gently kissing your knuckles. You let a sigh escape you, rocking your hips over his once more. He was hot against you and the sun, now beginning to sink below the walls, caught in his hair, lighting it up in gold like some kind of halo. You’d hardly have been surprised if he sprouted wings right then and there. 

“Quit teasing, (Y/N),” he half laughed, half growled. Then added “please” almost as an afterthought. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” you smiled, the hand that wasn’t being held by him sliding down over his chest, his stomach, finally coming to rest on his dick once more. You carefully lined him up, and at his nod, sank gently onto his length. 

You didn’t move right away, shifting your hands to the log either side of Newt’s head to steady yourself as you let yourself adjust. You rocked experimentally, earning a soft sigh and whispered “yes” from the boy under you. 

“Just like that,” he murmured as you moved again. Another thing about Newt that you’d learnt was that he liked when you rode him like this, liked guiding your hips over his while showering you with kisses – and the odd hickey. He was doing it now, his hands gentle yet firm where they slid over the skin of your thighs and hips and waist, his mouth warm and silken where it roamed your chest and neck. 

“Fuck, Newt,” you breathed, letting your fingers tangle in his hair. You didn’t pull it as such, just hinted at it. Still, Newt’s breath hissed between his teeth and he looked up at you from a particularly dark hickey at the curve where your neck met your shoulder, his eyes dark. You gave his hair the gentlest tug, tipping his head back and kissing his lips, his jaw, and down his throat. 

Newt’s eyes were closed now, his breath shallow as you ran one hand down over his front, fingers skimming the subtle planes of muscle as a leaf skims the surface of a puddle. You kissed him again, slowly, your mouths melding perfectly together. 

“Touch yourself,” he murmured against your lips. “I want you to cum.” 

“I wanna make you cum,” you replied. It was true, you loved nothing more than watching Newt unravel because of you and only you, even if it was both of you doing the work. 

He shrugged. “And I want you to get yourself off riding my dick, I want to watch you.” 

“Ok.” You kissed him again, then slid the hand that wasn’t still tangled his hair down your own body to the heat between your legs. You bit your lip as your fingertips grazed your clit, stifling a moan. 

“Don’t keep quiet,” Newt urged. “I wanna hear you too.” 

God, this boy, you thought as you let yourself whisper a curse. Did he have any idea what he was doing to you? He probably did, actually, you reflected as your fingers rubbed tiny circles over your clit. You leant forwards to get a better angle, your chest brushing against Newt’s and your face inches from his own. He was watching you, his attention fixed only on you. You felt yourself twitch and your muscles began to tense as you found the perfect spot, the moans you let escape growing in frequency and volume. 

“Move me,” you choked as you felt yourself teetering on the brink of your climax, every fibre of your being pulled taught. 

Newt nodded, rocking your hips over his as your fingers continued their motion and you hung, suspended for a second before everything came crashing in on you. 

“Fuck, Newt, oh my god,” you groaned as the orgasm flooded over you. You were dimly aware of him moaning your name and realised that your hand had tightened in his hair and that he was still moving you. “Keep going,” you sighed, cupping his face with one hand while the other continued to card through his hair, pulling occasionally. 

“Mm, (Y/N) oh–” he broke off and you gave the handful of hair you had a firm pull, now taking over your own movements as he released inside you, bliss flooding his face. 

You continued to slide your hips over his until your legs had ceased to shake and a little of the haziness had gone from Newt’s face, settling comfortably onto his lap. Wordlessly, you placed a soft kiss on his forehead, brushing the hair from his face and tracing patterns over his cheeks and neck, all the way down to his chest. He smiled at you, bending to sooth the dark marks he’d left on your skin with kisses of his own, holding you close against him. 

“I love this,” he said at last. 

You tilted your head to the side, nonplussed. “Having sex with me?” 

He considered, nodded, then, “being with you.” 

“I love being with you too,” you whispered as you kissed him again. 

[catasoph]

Return

Gally x f!reader

Summary: (Y/N) was alone the longest of time. Forgetting how a home or love feelt like, until a temperamental glader saved her and gave her a place to belong.

Words: 11.4k

Warnings: loneliness, suicidal thoughts, drinking, gunshots/wounds, trust issues, panic attacks, violence, kind of hurt/comfort

Authors note: My apostrophe stopped working through this. Please dont come at me. I already spend too much time on this. XD

The sun was just setting when a young woman walked into the club. The walls were crumbling down. All the beautiful wallpaper that once adorned the house was gone, leaving only cold stone behind. A few parts were sprayed full of graffiti. It showed obscurities and perverseness. Everything only to get by in a heartless world. The women walked in, carefully, scanning the room and nodding to a few familiar faces but never talking. Her first way was up to the bar, getting countless strong drinks to down her sorrow in. She sat there watching the people sway around her until she also felt her world taking down the framework around it, so it could move freely. Her legs automatically found their way to the dance floor, because she had been here too many nights already. Trying to forget the outside world. She memorized every wall and corridor. The little cracks everyone only looked at when they had one too many while they tried not to puke. She had mastered the art of avoiding the disappointment that lay outside waiting for her to come again at sunrise and swallow her whole.

The woman was (Y/N) (L/N) formerly property of WCKED, now all alone.

She danced until her legs hurt and her eyes were too tired to stay open any longer. Most people had already filled out hours ago, leaving her with the usual companions and her solitude until she also decided to leave. Not looking at the few remaining guests that were laying on the floor unconscious or sleeping. The nodding to the few that were still standing was reserved for the beginning of the evening. So nobody would dare try coming up to her.

When she opened the thick wooden door, where splinters were coming off and the color had already fainted, she left the darkness behind and stepped out into the light. A new day had come but for (Y/N) the roles were reserved. The light was mocking her, holding up a mirror she couldnt look into because all the sunshine had vanished. At least the club was dark, indulging her fantasy that the whole world was dark and that it wasnt only her mistake.

(Y/N) started her way down the sandy alleys, where rubble was laying next to other humans. It was true that not only her world was filled with darkness. It just had different shades. When a drunk guy was singing old lullabies with his friends, it didnt seem so dark to her. Only a filthy grey. But if (Y/N) looked too closely she would see that the old lady who, a few weeks ago, gave spare food to strangers who couldnt afford it, was now laying on the floor trying to gnaw her own leg off to stop the virus, the world got a whole lot darker.

(Y/N) closed her eyes for a moment to feel the warmth that was radiating down on her that would get almost unbearable in a few hours. When she opened them again three guards with greyish pants and a bulletproofed vest came towards her. It was not unusual to see some people patrolling the streets but these guys were sent from wicked. The helmet they wore was too expensive and protective to belong to anyone else than the remaining citizens from the last city. They were coming for her. Wicked had found her again. Immediately she turned around, trying to escape the other way but also from that side guards were circling in on her.

Her world was still turning, her feet stumbling over each other while her breathing became labored. She needed to focus, get control over herself. A hand touched her arm, yanking her forward so that she fell to the ground. The guards were around her, pointing their large weapons at her defenseless body. They were coming for blood.

When she finally stood straight a shot was heard and one of her legs gave out while a sharp pain pierced through her thigh.

"Kill me." (Y/N) breathed out.

"KILL ME! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Followed her scream. If wicked was to take her final moments then everybody would hear it. She would fight till the end, even though she had already given up. There was no way she would give wicked the satisfaction to do this quietly.

"Or are you afraid?" A deranged laugh split her throat as she looked at the guards that still hadn`t pulled the trigger.

"Big bad wicked afraid of a little girl?" Her smile showed her teeth as if she was warning the guards not to come near a hungry wolf. (Y/N) slowly stood up, her (e/c) eyes never leaving the guards in front of her and registering every movement. The woman was playing a dangerous game.

"Stay on the ground!" A booming voice filtered through the helmet. (Y/N) tsked but obeyed, pressing her hands onto her gunshot to stop the bleeding. Her eyes found the ground, closing, preparing for her final breath while thinking of all the people she loved and lost. A rain of shots was heard but no one pierced her skin. Loud thuds followed accompanied by dull footsteps. Slowly her head lifted again and her lashes flew open only to be met with the most trusting green eyes she had ever seen.

"Youre safe now." He spoke quietly. (Y/N) nodded dumbly, all air knocked out of her. The man gently took her hands from her wound to inspect it and she just let him have it. In the background, different voices made their way through the ringing in her ears. "They should take on guys on their level." "They can never just leave us alone." Her eyes flitted over the ground, looking at the guards that only seconds ago were threatening to kill her, were now laying dead on the same mud they always spitted on. A hand gently laid on her cheek pushing her face straight again, to look at the boy that had rescued her. "Dont look at them. Keep your eyes on me." She did. He gently put a band-aid over her bloody leg.

"The bullet is not in your leg anymore, but the wound still needs to get cleaned properly. You can come with us. We can treat you at our hideout." The man stood again, his serious eyes observing the alley they had found her in.

"Where they coming for you?" It was an obvious question and a loaded one at that. He asked if they came for her specifically or if it was just a coincidence. (Y/N) only nodded, avoiding eye contact, instead fidgeting with the sleeves of her jumper.

"I understand. Im Gally. Im sure we will find a place for you." A smile grazed his lips that she could only return.

He abruptly turned around and put (Y/N)s arm gently around his shoulder while bringing his own around her upper body to steady her. The other guards had been going down the little alley to search for other intruders but returned quickly to the van that was standing just a few feet away from the massacre. Gally placed her gently on the end of their car, leaving her to find her own way into a comfortable position while the other man climbed in behind her.

"You want to adopt her?" Another guard asked, taking off his mask and showing his gray hair and serious face. Wrinkles adorned every part of it, and his cheeks looked a bit hollow.

"She needs our help," Gally whispered, hoping that the girl he barely knew, didnt hear their conversation. It was deadly silent for a moment. Both men starring each other down before the older one of the two relaxed his stance. "If we take her, she is your responsibility." "Yes, Sir," Gally replied seriously.

"Im Jack. I`m one of the crew leaders to observe the patrols around the city. Who are you?" The gray-haired man asked, lifting his eyebrows which only added more to his natural wrinkles. (Y/N) was silent, only turning her hands to find more blood on the backside. "Why is Wicked after you?" He didnt sound threatening. His voice carried understanding and compassion while his eyes held a conflict. He needed to know but he didnt want to prod. (Y/N)s eyes slowly lifted, acknowledging the man but never moving a muscle to speak. Instead, her eyes flitted over to Gally, who was already looking at her, trying to find something she would never show. Jack huffed in exasperation but let the topic go. Leaning back in the tight space and clutching his gun whereas Gally watched her for the whole ride with a serious expression.

The car drive was silent. All the guards had taken off their helmets, so slow breathing could be heard from everyone. But (Y/N) didnt lift her head to look at them. Her eyes were intensely focused on her hands which were smeared with dirt and blood. Not just her own but also the blood that was rushing out of the lifeless bodies to pool around her feet.

Only shortly after they arrived at a large warehouse. The doors to the van opened just to reveal more people in the same attire, running around and chatting. In here non of them wore their helmets. Feeling safe with the comrades they fought alongside who had probably saved their life more than once.

The crew that had rescued (Y/N) filtered out of the car to walk slowly in the same direction. Gally was the last to step out of the vehicle. Jack found his eyes and nodded towards the women they had found while stretching out a hand for Gally to hand him his weapon before he turned around and left them alone.

"I will bring you up to the medics first and then we will find you a room." The blond man explained quickly while helping her up to her feet. Together they hopped up a flight of stairs and put her on a bed that looked the cleanest out of all of them.

A tall, lanky woman stepped in. Brushing her unruly red hair out of her face and pushing her glasses up on her pointy nose.

"Someone new?" Her voice sounded cheery even though she looked like she hadnt slept for days. Caring for the wounded, praying that they wouldnt die.

"Yes, found her in front of a club. Wicked shot her." Gally explained monotonously.

The woman peeled (Y/N)s trouser leg away to have a better look at the wound.

"No worries, dear. The old grouch can stay." A laugh bubbled out of her throat that made (Y/N) untense her shoulders and relax a bit but never letting Gallys hand go through the whole procedure.

"It looks pretty good. The bullet is not in your leg anymore so I will just clean your wound and close it with some stitches. You had some luck, dear." The woman laughed while carefully treating her wound. "Whats your name?" Silence stretched through the room, curling up on another bed and making itself comfortable to stay.

"Well, Im Robin. The whole lot calls me Rob though. Are you planning on staying with us?" No words left (Y/N)s mouth but instead nodded her head slowly.

"I see. Youre not one to talk? I can talk for both of us." Robin smiled truthfully and already opened her mouth to continue until her eyes fell on Gally still standing in the room and eyeing the two women curiously. (Y/N) could see the intention in Rob's eyes, before she could even form a word (Y/N)s hand found its way to Gally`s, making her intentions clear. The doctor's gaze snapped immediately over to their intertwined fingers and a smirk danced its way onto her lips.

The blond man gently put his hand around (Y/N)s upper body while she laid her arm over his shoulders to stabilize. Together they limped out of the room and down a long corridor to the sleeping quarters. They all had little numbers messily scribbled on them or were customized with graffiti. Gally explained that it made it easier for greenies to find their room. A strange word. Greenie. A small smile tucket at her lips hearing it.

"Okay, all done. You need to keep the wound clean for 48 hours. After that, you have to wash it twice a day. Come by tomorrow morning and I will show you how to bandage your leg." Robin smiled at (Y/N), her head moving over to Gally to nod at him.

"Take her away. She is all yours. Give her a nice room and keep her safe from all the animals out there." Gallys deadpanned expression morphed into one of confusion. One of his eyebrows arched up, whereas his mouth stayed in a thin line. Robin turned with a little giggle around and left the room. Finding a new victim she could terrorize.

"This one is mine. The one next to it is free so it would be easiest for you to stay there or do you want to keep looking?" (Y/N) shook her hand and took a symbolic step forward with one of her legs, waiting for Gally to follow and get her into her new home.

Gally placed her softly onto her bed, the mattress dipping under her weight and the bedframe squeaked pathetically.

"Are you okay?" A nod and then silence followed. The man shuffled awkwardly on his feet, wanting to say something but hesitating. His mouth opened a few times but only hot air emerged.

"I will leave you alone now." He settled on, in the end. Gally turned around, ready to leave but not taking a step because (Y/N)`s hand wormed her way back into his, tugging him back, asking silently for him to stay.

He turned around and looked into her eyes. Memories were flashing him then that would stay a mystery to him but he could see her pain. Desperately wanting to have someone. So he just settled on the floor in front of her and let their interlinked hands hang between them.

The day was already going towards its end when the woman decided to speak her first words.

"Can I trust them?" Such a simple question got Gally to waver. Squeezing their hands on impulse as if to tell them everything would be alright.

"Of course, you can trust me." A shy smile grew on her face, looking directly into his eyes while answering.

"Ohh silly, I know I can trust you. What about the other guards?"

"They saved me. They gave me a life and something to fight for. I trust them with my life." Her smile never fell but a glow was added to her eyes. Tiny so nobody would have noticed but Gally had studied her the entire day and it was as if a bit of life went back to her.

"So, I will do the same."

Weeks went by and the everyday life started again. (Y/N)s wound had healed completely and Gally went daily out for patrol but always returned. They had found their own little routine. Gally just came back from his evening patrol, opening the door to his room and taking off his heavy clothing with an exhausted sigh. Life out in the streets was hard. Everyone tried to survive. They stole, fought, and killed. Betraying the community they once had. Forgetting that their real enemy had built walls so high they could never climb them. It was brutal and the peace they tried to bring and reunite all the people that got forgotten never seemed to be enough. A shy knock was heard on his door.

"Come in!" He said while pulling his shirt over his head. A small smile grazed (Y/N)s lips when they stepped foot into the room, holding two bowls filled to the brim with vegetable soup.

"I made a recipe from my mom today." The bowls were put gently onto the table that was standing in the room with two chairs accompanying it. Gally took his seat opposite her and thanked her.

"How was she?" Curious eyes looked up to him, while (Y/N) blew the soup on her spoon before eating it.

"My mom?" A nod followed, staring down at his own soup.

"She had the best recipes. She made the most delicious dishes from cheap ingredients." A chuckle left her lips. Soup forgotten at her side whereas Gally's was almost completely gone.

"She always sang these old songs while cooking. Swaying her hips until my dad joined her for a quick dance. They looked so happy together." A wistful smile played on their lips, eyes unfocused while remembering everything she had with them.

"She thought up stories and told them to me before bringing me to bed."

"She sounds like a good mother." (Y/N)s eyes snapped back to the blond boy in front of her. Crashing back into a reality she couldnt escape.

"Im sorry." Gallys frown deepened, pushing his empty bowl away from him to lean back in his chair and cross his arms.

"Its okay. I dont know my parents so I dont miss them. Wicked gave me a different family." It should spark happiness that he had found what so many were still searching for but his eyes were dark with sadness. Guilt spread in his veins like venom and paralyzed him every move. It was a lie that he didnt care. Maybe he didn`t care for his parents but he definitely for the family that he had lost.

(Y/N) was standing in the kitchen preparing supper for Gally. His favorite food was sizzling on the stove. An easy curry with rice. The meal had been done for a while but no noise from the vans driving back in was heard yet and no other hungry man had found its way into the kitchen. Instead, the hideout was awfully quiet. It appeared as if (Y/N) was on her own. Ghost's from another time chasing around her. With a gnawing feeling in her stomach, she took the extra portion she had prepared to bring it over to the medical room where Robin had been hauled up all day. The older woman regularly forgot to eat during the day, which led to her fainting in the middle of the corridor. Since that day (Y/N) had made it her job to provide food for half the guards in the building and paid extra attention to Robs eating patterns. She had a plate loaded to the brim in her hands, carefully watching her steps so nothing would spill and tumble to the floor. When she appeared in the open doorway, Rob is entranced in a paper laying in front of her, hurriedly scribbling notes on the notebook beside her.

(Y/N) gently knocked on the doorframe so as to not startled her. The doctor's hurried gaze flitted upwards, catching her smile and returning it with relief.

"Thank goodness its you." She breathed relieved, leaning back in her chair while (Y/N) placed her food in front of her.

"Who else should it be?"

"I thought they had returned from the attack and would swarm my office now." The woman lazily gestured, before digging into the hot meal in front of her.

"Attack?"

"Darling, have you not heard it? There were rumors that another gang was making trouble. All most all of the guards went out to keep the other citizens safe." Robin didn`t realize the effect her words had on the woman in front of her. Just enjoying her meal and trusting everyone would make it back safe.

Loss was nothing new. Everyone had lost someone or something. Their family, their friends, their home, their city. But some people had lost more than others. Their hope, their faith, their trust, and their sanity.

"Tha… That's why Gally isnt back yet." (Y/N)'s eyes found the floor, her world swaying, turning, and twisting to throw her off her balance. Her breath became short and rigid. Hand gripping the doorframe tightly to remain standing, while a piercing ring stayed in her ear. She couldnt remember it. She couldnt remember his laugh, how his hand felt. She couldnt remember the color of his eyes. She couldnt remember him. There was just darkness. The pictures she desperately tried to save in her mind were already trying to flee. Burning away to ashes she couldnt grasp. How would she live like that? With the distant memory of the happy life, she could have had before everything fell apart again.

He would fall, die, tumble to the ground like leaves the only difference would be that there would be nothing poetic about it.

He would fall and she would fall with him. At a different time and a different place with a different feeling but they would end up at the same place. Laying together as if it was their destiny that their fates got entangled.

"(Y/N)! Darling!" A loud voice came muffled towards her still ringing ears. Her eyes focused on a woman with red hair. She remembered her. Robin. She remembered his laugh and the wrinkles around his eyes. His favorite food and the places he felt safest. She remembered everything but still felt her life glide through her hands, shattering on the cold concrete floor.

"You`re okay," Rob stated, (Y/N) wasnt sure if she said it to convince herself or the girl that was still violently shivering on the floor. "He will come back. I promise." A promise she had no control over. The (H/C) haired woman scoffed, scratching her hands. Her body imagined a place to hide where the pain couldnt find her. Numb it the only way she knew how with a bottle of vodka in her hands and the desire to forget in her head. Instead, she nodded. Letting Robin take her hands and place her in one of the beds to sit in silence together.

"Look at me!" The woman gripping her shoulders orders.

"Breath. Do you feel my heartbeat? Breathe with it." Her tone softened, calming down with every intake of air. (Y/N)s bright red head was returning back to a healthier color. She could feel the sweat trickling down her nape and the tears on her cheeks. (Y/N) became overly aware of everything touching her body. The clothes on her body scratched and itched while the hands on her arms burned through her skin.

She mustered the younger one a bit longer before returning to the food that was still standing on her table, only half eaten. No one dared say a word. The air filled with tension that was created from the outside and would only break when Gally returned. (Y/N) looked out of the window onto the sandy streets where people crawled around like insects hoping to not get crushed by the world. She was listening intently for noises. Be it a gunshot or tires screeching on asphalt, anything to predict the outcome she didnt want to know. But the first thing she heard was a motor rumbling and people yelling even though she couldnt understand their words. Her head whipped around and her feet slipped onto the ground. Sprinting out of the room to see for herself. She arrived at the parking space, seeing everyone helping to bring the equipment back. Her eyes nervously scanned the crowd, rushing through the mass of people to find the usual blond-haired boy.

She didnt leave Gallys side for the remainder of the evening, pressing into his side. When nighttime came around the thought of leaving terrified her. Her bed seemed too empty and lonely. No one would chase her nightmares away that were sure to come. But Gally sensed her distress. Never leaving his side and touching him when the situation would allow it.

"(Y/N)." A soft voice spoke behind her, getting her to whirl around and crash into a broad chest that she engulfed greedily with tears spilling once more over her face.

"You`re back." The hiccuped, letting Gally press them closer together so she could hear his heartbeat.

"I will always return."

They settled in and got comfortable. (Y/N)s hand immediately finding his when he got in beside her. They faced each other, staring into their eyes and hoping to find answers to questions they wouldnt dare ask.

"Do you want to sleep here tonight?" Gally asked with a husky voice, pulling his blanket back and gesturing towards the other side. Huge eyes found his, scared and desperate. A small nod was the only answer he got, reminding him of their first days together when talking seemed to be too much for her. Overwhelmed by her emotions.

"I was also at wicked." Gally raised an eyebrow. Confusion and curiosity settled on his features.

"They tested if I was immune. I wasnt so they didnt send me into the maze but all the other children. Th…They hurt them. Put them through horrible tests and I couldnt do anything. I was so helpless. When they didnt need me anymore they send me out into a world I didnt know. I lost everything all over again." Gally scooted closer, engulfing her in his strong arms and feeling her breath against his neck. "I tried to save them and get them out but... I failed. I couldnt save a single one. That`s why wicked was after me."

"Thank you." He took a small break, a calming breath leaving his mouth. "For trying."

Gally was sitting at the edge of the roof, feet dangling in the air while he stared straight ahead. His hands held onto a white stone with a smooth surface where a sun was carved into. Reminding him of his promise to never give up and keep going. He didnt know who he had promised. Didnt know who he belonged to and what feelings to associate with it but it is the only memory wicked let him keep. Or it was just the only one that was too strong for them to take. The stone had been in his pocket since the day he arrived at the glade. His only personal item besides the clothes on his body. It was his and he kept it safe. Promising every evening that he would see the sun the next day.

Light tapping of feet was heard behind him, closing in on his figure. Someone else placed themselves next to him, their feet finding their space next to his not afraid of falling. (Y/N).

"You like this place." She stated bluntly. Keeping her eyes facing forward onto the huge gray wall illuminating the landscape. The difference was significant. The outer parts of the city where they lived were in ruins. The flare spreads uncontrollably, leaving people to die of poverty and sickness. Whereas the wall hid the rich and lucky. Mocking them with their cage of metal. The last city was majestic in Gally`s eyes. The buildings were so high and bright that they seemed to grow bigger the more often he looked at them. This wall reminded him of everything he was fighting for.

"They took everything." Silence made its way between them. Motionlessly listening to the sounds that the wind could not carry over the barrier. Wishing they could listen to something but the screams of agony coming from the streets below them.

"Yes, it always reminds me of my goal." The wind picked up, flying through their hair and moving their clothing in rhythm.

"They took a lot from you, didnt they?"

"In the Glade. At first, everyone was afraid of me but Alby. He gave me a chance so that I could show what I can do. I started building with the other few boys we had back then. The fear shifted to respect. I didnt realise it back then but they became my family. Until Thomas came. He scared me so much. His whole recklessness. It felt like he wanted to take my family from me." He laughed dryly, his hands still holding motionlessly onto his lucky charm, never wiping away the tears escaping his eyes.

"Now look at me. I was the one who destroyed my family. If I would have just made different decisions. Maybe Chuck would still be alive and we would be together." His voice never wavered. Glad to finally speak the truth that had taken countless nights of sleep from him. The shame was thrumming in his veins never stopping to flow. His head cast downwards, tears falling onto his dark trousers, not able to taint them.

(Y/N) breathed slowly. Her eyes watchfully examined the desert that lay before her.

"It hurts." Her gaze swept over to Gally. "I know. I wont give you the same empty phrases. It hurts to lose what you just wanted to protect. But for all the boys that died in the Glade, Wicked set them up for it. The selfish desire of rich people did that to you." She took a breath, trying to compose herself. "You shouldnt blame yourself. It`s not your fault."

Her hand gently lifted, wiping the tears away that Gally had stubbornly ignored. Her hand lingers on his cheek, stroking over the freckles gracing his face. When he finally turns his head, looking at the girl that was smiling sadly up at him he surged forward. His right hand met the asphalt to keep them steady where as his other one held her face gently. His chapped lips found hers just for a delicate second. Retracing quickly only for her to chase after him, holding him close.

Their days didnt get easier. Life kept on going dragging them with, but it finally felt like they had a purpose. Something to live for that wasnt hate or revenge. They lived for their future, for love. They lived for each other. Realizing that no one would fight their battles besides themselves.

"You`re okay, Rob. Lets move to the bed." The redhead clung desperately at (Y/N). Her legs barely worked and gave out again when the gunshots rang through the hideout. "Lay down. Relax for a bit. I will find out whats going on." She squeezed her hand gently, pulling a blanket over the shivering woman before rushing out of the room and down the corridor to find out what was happening.

Their routine didnt change much. Gally went out for patrol every day. Getting better and earning the trust of the other soldiers so that his rank increased. Directing small groups of guards through the city like the leader he was. It was a sunny day. (Y/N) was helping Rob in the infirmary. Moving the injured and bringing the medications the other woman had brewed. Until she heard loud gunshots ringing. Robin was on the ground in seconds. Holding her hands tightly over her ears and shaking violently.

She found Jack, the guard from the day they had saved her, in the radio room. Turning around immediately when he heard someone enter.

"I want backup down at the garage!" He hollered while marching straight in that direction the woman hot on his heels. "Stay behind me. I cant let anything happen to you, darling." He smiled genuinely before pulling down his helmet and gripping his gun tightly when he heard the screeching of tires. The first van arrived and the guards swarmed a dark-haired male, a blond boy, and a woman with short hair. They stayed at a reasonable distance but pointed their guns directly at their faces. The second van wasnt as peaceful. Grunting and screaming could already be heard when they just drove in. When the doors open a soldier and a man fall out of the van who was punching him violently. Immediately the three teenagers swarmed around them. The girl spoke calming words that got the foreign man to let go.

"Whats happening?" (Y/N) was a little out of breath, gripping the doorframe tightly while her eyes zeroed in on the gray-haired man. "The shots came from the wall. There is a mass panic down in the ruins. But Gally and the others are okay. They reached out via funk. They are on their way with a few extra men. So stay back until I deem it safe." His voice was professional, filling the tension in the room with orders and making his way already outside before (Y/N) could answer.

"Where all on the same side here!" Gallys loud voice broke the tension, bringing all eyes to him.

"What do you mean same side? Who the hell are you?" Gally hesitated for a moment before pulling down his mask.

"Hey, Greenie." The new arrivals looked at him shocked. Eyes wide, mouth trying to form words that just wouldnt come. The first to react was the dark-haired man. He leaped at Gally and punched him straight in the face which made them both fall over. Jack was immediately at their side ready to pull the stranger off but before he could the blond one spoke up. Soothing words reached his companion so that he let go of Gally.

"I can help with that. Follow me." Gally turned around ready to lead the group deeper into the hideout. Angry and disapproving looks were exchanged between the man that had attacked Gally and the blonde one.

"H...How is this possible? We watched you die" "No, you left me to die, and if we hadnt found you when we did. You would be dead right now." Jack untensed his stance, lowering his weapon a bit but still ready to kill if anyone made a wrong move.

"What are you doing here?" Gally continued.

"Minho. Wicked has him here. Were looking for a way in."

(Y/N) sprang out from behind Jack, pushing her way forward through the other guards only to stand in front of Gally and examine his face. Her hand was reaching out but centimeters before touching she backed away.

"Are you hurt?" Her eyebrows drew together in concern, looking behind Gally to see the others had stopped walking as well and were watching them intensely.

Lawrence was an intimidating man. He didnt give up without getting something in return. The deformed man was always out for profit. He was greedy and (Y/N) was sure if he had the luck to stay at Wickeds side on the other side of the walls, he always tried to tear down, he would have forgotten about all the poor people as well. Putting his greedy hands against a clean window to watch the people, he was now protecting, burn.

"I`m fine." (Y/N) mustered him for a few seconds. MInho was a familiar name. Gally had talked about him repeatedly. They seemed to have been some kind of friends in the maze but the people he had thought his family had left him behind to die.

"Dont be reckless. You dont have to save everyone." Both of them knew how dangerous it was to get into the last city. Few had tried and non of them had survived. It was a suicide mission and Gally knew it.

"I need to save him." He whispered, his eyes desperately searching hers for an ounce of understanding. But before he could find it, her eyes drop to the floor and her head shakes in disappointment. He carefully reaches for her hand and squeezes it softly. Reassuring her that he would not leave her alone in this life. She was not meant to see all the horrors of life by herself.

"I will return. I promise." Their hands fall lifeless between them. Gally rushes past her to show the Gladers the way to Lawrence, their doom.

When the conference was over. Gally, Newt, and Thomas got ready to scout out their way to the last city. Leaving Brenda, Jorge, and Frypan for leverage behind. Brenda was finding a seat next to (Y/N) in what appeared to be the kitchen space. The wooden chair creaked under her weight but the mysterious woman never lifted her chin.

Gally spoke for the group of newcomers. The dark-haired man, named Thomas, offered up his blood to heal the sick man temporarily. While they discussed some details about their deal (Y/N) stood in the background watching the group of strangers.

They didnt pay her any mind besides the girl. She felt (Y/N)s presence in her back, staring intently at them. Determining if they were a threat. Her eyes flickered over every person when someone shifted but stayed longer on Thomas. She looked at him as if he was the pest. waltzing in to destroy her dream. It was clear she didnt trust him or any of them.

The night dragged on. (Y/N) feared it would be bright again before they returned. Making it harder for them to slip from shadow to shadow and disappear into the darkness. They could get noticed by Wicked without them even making it near their friend. But abruptly the door flew open and the three stood healthy and safe in front of them.

"Do you think it will work?" They didnt look at each other. It was obvious they were talking about the idea of freeing their friend from Wicked. Ignoring every sign that told them to stop, to turn around and run, because if they took one more step they would fall into the depths of hell and couldnt crawl their way out like the last times. "Its reckless and stupid." (Y/N) retorts, hoping Gally would still hear her disapprove even though they were already picking up their bags. Her eyes tried to scorch the skin that was on his spine while he was busy leaving the room, to break into a city with enormous high-security measures. After they were out of earshot (Y/N) picked up her voice again.

"But they will not stop until he is out. Gally is their best bet." She turned her head towards the brunette, smiling sadly up at her.

(Y/N) sprang up, to wrap her arms around Gally and feel his muscles tightening around her while his heart beat against his chest.

Everyone found their place around a large table. Silence filled the air. The three men were just staring down at the table whereas the others were mustering them curiously. Frypan was the first to fill the empty void.

"Well, did you find a way in?" Thomas glanced nervously at Gally, shifting on his feet uncomfortably but never speaking up. Gally sighed exhausted. The bags under his eyes were prominent for having been out all day.

"Its Teresa." (Y/N)s head lifted. She knew that name. Memories of a dark-haired girl flashed through her mind that could not be older than her but had already lost her heart. Everyone was afraid of the flare. The disease creeping into your bones, stripping you naked of all they had been before. But what terrified (Y/N) the most was the empty eyes of people who had lost too much. Their heart was emptied out. Feelings thrown in a cage that nobody could open. She had seen that in Teresa when they were barely children. Teresa never had a consciousness. Selling her friends out to get what she needed. She was a vicious beast in disguise.

"No, there has got to be another way." His voice was rigid. He was pacing back and forth. Ready to carve his way inside if he could leave the girl that had betrayed them more than once out of harm's way.

"Like what? Youve seen the building, she is our only way in." A bit of anger seeped into his voice at Thomas stubbornness to discard his plan. "Do you really think she would just help us?" Frypan spoke up from his side of the table, gesturing lazily at the blueprints in from of the group. "I dont plan on asking her for permission." Gally chuckled lightly. (Y/N) would have expected them to look surprised or mildly uncomfortable but no one batted an eye at the statement of the soldier.

A beat of silence rang through the room. Tension seeping in and creating a fog no one wanted to walk through.

"Am I missing something here? This is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? Same dick?"

"I like her," Gally stated, letting (Y/N) and him agree on at least one thing that night.

A gasp left Brenda when Newt pressed Thomas against the fall, screaming at him. Saying without needing to even utter the words that he had failed Minho because they had trusted the girl he loved. (Y/N)s hand immediately found Gallys. Seeking warmth and comfort from the only person that would not skin them alive if they had the chance.

"What? Are you afraid your little girlfriend is going to get hurt? Hmm? This has obviously never been about just rescuing Minho." The blond's eyes were blown wide, his fingers tightly balled to fists while his nails dug into the flesh of his hands. The tension in everyone's body seemed to rise. Holding them all in a choke hold, not allowing them to breathe.

"What are you talking about, Newt?"

"Teresa!" Newt screamed at him. Leaping off his seat, that fell with a loud thud to the ground. He charged across the room, forcing Gally to shift unconsciously in front of (Y/N) to block Newt's view of her. Being a protective wall between them.

"I mean, shes the only reason why Minho went missing in the first place. Now we finally have an opportunity to get him back and what?"

"You dont want to because of her? Because deep down you still care about her, dont you?" Newt spat in his face, body shaking heavenly while panting, trying to get air into his exhausted lungs. "Just admit it." The boy sounded defeated. As if he had lost all purpose and hope for following Thomas, just repeating the same actions if the man was never able to sacrifice something.

"I`m sorry." He turned around. His head faced the ground before rushing off and leaving everyone flabbergasted.

"Newt." Thomas breathed out. His eyes stayed on Newts with a shocked expression. Searching for the source of the angry display. "Dont lie to me!" He screamed. Shoving Thomas once more roughly against the wall, making (Y/N) flinch.

"Dont lie to me." Came it dangerously low, threatening the boy with these simple words. His posture suddenly changes. Regret flashed through his eyes when he slowly lets go of Thomas.

"Im sorry." He whispers towards the boy he had just attacked with eyes that were unseeing. It was as if he had forgotten himself and someone else possessed him for the last few moments, so he could remember but couldn't control.

No one of the remaining people dared to move. They were staring at each other or after Newt. Gally only loosens his grip on (Y/N)s hand after Newt had been gone for a few minutes.

"I will talk to him." Thomas was the first to talk and rush after his friend. Everyone else stayed as if they had been turned to stone. Not talking just existing and hanging in their own thoughts, They didnt look at the blueprint but were just staring into space to find a purpose to keep going, to keep fighting, because this had felt more disastrous than anyone was prepared for.

"I will join your mission."

"Absolutely not." Gally turned abruptly, staring into (Y/N)s determined eyes. The battle was fought silently, not one of them breaking eye contact before Brenda spoke up. "I could use help with the kids." Gallys angry gaze swept over to her, ready to set her aflame while the woman in front of him smirked. Knowing he could not leave her behind.

(Y/N) put a giant pot in front of the Gladers. Having cooked for them so they would all be healthy and prepared for the days to come. They filled up their plates and started eating silently. Thomas and Gally were wrapping up the last details of their plan after Thomas had decided he would use Teresa to get their friend back and bring Newt back home safely and healthy.

They waited till the next evening. Letting everyone rest until they would start with their plan. (Y/N) was laying in Gallys arms. Following the lines on his hands and breathing deeply into their proximity.

"Sooo, you and Gally?" Brenda started, picking innocently at her food, only looking up at the corner of her eye. (Y/N)s cheeks flushed in rosy pink. It didnt go unnoticed by the other girl but she waited patiently for confirmation, so she nodded quickly.

"W…what? Gally? Tall, tough guy Gally? Always a scowl on his face Gally?" Frypan squeaked next to her. His cutlery limply hanging in his hands, food forgotten over the conversation they were having.

"So he was a softie all along," Newt smirked. Only stopping shortly his meal before continuing. Brenda didn`t even bat an eye at the stiff girl in front of her, just silently enjoying the information she got on the stoic glader boy.

"I need you to be safe." She whispers.

"Right back at you." (Y/N) scoffed.

"Im not as reckless as you." Gally chuckled lowly, burying his head into her nape. She smiled wistfully. Knowing she finally had what she always wanted. Her mind was at peace before she fell asleep.

The next day was hectic. They were trying to get everything in order before they would go to the city and had to fight on their own. Lawrence has offered to help. If Gally gave them a way in and placed an electrical device near the power box, they would hack into Wicked`s system to put a record over the cameras and let them walk through the building almost unseen. When the world became dark around them, the three boys once again climbed through the manhole cover to get into the last city and leaving the rest to wait.

When they came back a woman stumbled in front of them. Dirty sack covering her face to keep the way to the hideout anonymous. Newt placed her harshly on a chair, ripping off the sack to give a face to a disheveled Teresa. Her eyes moved around the room, scanning the faces of her kidnappers.

"Gally?" Teresa panted loudly, her eyes focusing on the believed dead glader, who sighed heavily.

"Here is how this is gonna go: where gonna ask you a few questions and you will tell us exactly what we need to know. We'll start off simple. Where is Minho?" Gally leaned against the table. His face not showing the emotion that was brewing inside of him. All the anger, sadness, and fear locked behind an expression no one was able to read. He pushed himself to a standing position. Grabbing a chair and slowly walking towards her.

"You guys don't seriously think…" Teresa's eyes were trying to outrun Gally. Moving around to find kinder eyes, fixating on Thomas when they made eye contact. Gally dropped the chair harshly in front of her, sitting down. His eyes bore holes in her skull. Intimidating her to get what they need.

"Don't look at him. Why are you looking at him? Look at me. He's not gonna help you." A heavy silence filled the room. The air was stuck in Teresa's lungs, too scared to crawl up her throat, out into the world to face the angry man in front of her.

"Well, I don't know. We don't necessarily need her, right?" Gally stands up and spins his chair back to the table. "Not all of her." He grabs a knife from the table, pointing it threateningly at her. "We just need her finger." No smile was playing around his lips to show he enjoyed the theater. Because for him she was once one of them. They had the same fate. (Y/N)s eyes suspiciously shifted over to Gally. Her eyes left Teresa for the first time since she had walked into the room. She knew how much pain she had put all of them through. She could see it in their gestures and the words that were tied back behind a tongue. Sewn up to the tops of their mouth and staying with them forever.

"Now we know you have Minho in the building. Where?"

"He is with the others in holding. Sublevel 3."

"How many others?" Newt spoke up from behind Gally. His posture was just as unreadable as the other ones. The kind smile that Teresa appreciated on her first days in the glade, was chased away by shadows.

"28."

Brenda turned to them. A small smile played at her lips before speaking: "I can make that work."

"No, no you guys don't understand. The whole level is restricted. You can't get in without a thumbprint ID." The tied-up woman scrambled to say. Trying to keep her friends safe but also all the progress they had made.

"That's why you are gonna come with us." The man she loved spoke up for the first time. No empathy or recognition showing through his stone-cold face. She had lost him. Had lost them all. For the hope of letting strangers survive. Would she change her decision if she could?

"Gally, back off," Thomas spoke up. Letting the love he held for Teresa shine through.

"You getting squeamish? I can guarantee you she has done a lot worse to Minho."

"That's not the plan. Back off." Thomas stood up, taking Gally's knife from him without the other resisting.

"Won't make a difference. Do whatever you want to me. You still won't get through the front door. The sensors will pick you up."

"We know, we're tagged. Property of wicked. You're gonna help us with that too." Thomas walked slowly over to her, holding the scalpel towards her. She nodded, silently complying and letting Gally untie her. She takes the scalpel with shaking hands, not looking up until she hears steps rushing towards her. Recognition flashed through her eyes when she saw the woman in front of her. So different but no doubt one of the girls wicked had tested. She was older. Her eyes were hard and her lips downturned. What had happened to you, little bird?

"Ill go first."

Thomas and Newt went with Teresa, whereas Gally and (Y/N) joined them through the underground garage. Making it look casual instead of closely planned. They took the staircase to get to the upper levels to meet fewer people while the cameras are still working. On the ground floor was the electrical box Gally had to open and station the hacking device in that Lawrence gave them. It was a risky plan, sawing the electrical box open in the middle of the stairs. (Y/N) obsessively checked every corner multiple times, clutching her gun between her hands. Fearing someone would come up and shoot them without them even getting near Minho. But Gally did quick and efficient work, having placed the device only a few minutes after them arriving on the floor.

After all of them got their tags out, Gally brought Teresa into another room. Locking her in it without furniture and windows. Preventing almost every option for her to escape or kill herself, while the others got ready. Everyone loaded their weapons, strapped knives onto their body, and Gally, Newt, Thomas, and (Y/N) disguised themselves as guards. She was checking her gun again. When Gally spoke up:

„Stay close to me.“ It was a scared order. Is eyes were trained on the belt, hands trying to tighten it but being unable to move properly. He huffed exasperated when he didn`t hit the hole again. (Y/N) stepped forward, taking his hands in hers, so that he had to acknowledge her. His soft eyes found hers and no words were spoken. She smiled softly, squeezing his hands to reassure him that she would be safe before Gally stepped away and set the plan into motion.

The whole level looked sterilised. No kids were living in these walls but prisoners. Milked until every last drop of them would benefit another human instead of them. They could die if it meant keeping the wealthy alive.

“Let's go.” Gally nods towards the staircase, pulling down his helmet to keep up his appearance while they rushed upstairs to Sublevel 3.

Newt and Thomas opened the heavy metal doors that kept the children from freedom. (Y/N) stayed at the entrance, looking out the doorway to alarm them when new guards were arriving. Promising to keep the children safe that have already given more than they should have.

They stormed the room the children were stationed at. Shooting the guards working for Wicked that were meant to protect the precious serum. It was immoral. Housing them in small cages where they could barely stand. For Wicked, they were objects meant to be exploited.

Part of a conversation trickled into (Y/N)s ear, limiting her concentration for a moment.

"Someone moved him up to the medical wing. Thomas, that's on the other side of the building." Teresa spoke hastily.

"Okay, take me to him. Right now."

"Let me come with you." Newt sounded worn out. Getting tired of wearing heavy clothes and running around a huge building. The disease was clearly getting to him. Painting his face in an ashy gray. He looked like he had already died, only stubbornness keeping him alive.

"No Newt, you're not. You stay here with Gally." Thomas replied. Worry laced his voice while he already moved towards the door.

"You can't do this on your own. Minho comes first, remember?" The fragile boy grabs his arm. His grip was not strong but reminded the other how strong they could be together. Maybe they couldnt win but at least they could fight. Their lives were intertwined and if separated would not be as promising.

"I will stay here with Gally." (Y/N) spoke up from the doorway, lifting the burden of a decision off Thomas's shoulders. Newt nodded at her thankfully, rushing past her to save his friend.

Creakingly the massive steal door opened, Gally rushed in and filled a little bag with glasses full of blue liquid. When the blond steps out and the door falls slowly close behind him an alarm starts going off. Red lights on the walls started flashing, signaling them to find their way outside.

As the others rush off, leaving the couple alone, the children start to mutter over each other. Their faces tense with their mouth half open as if a scream wanted to crawl out of their mouth and they fought it with desperation. (Y/N) turned around halfway, acknowledging the fear present in the room.

"It's okay. We're here to save you. But stay quiet please."

"Okay, we need to get outta here. Now. Stay close to me. Stick together.” Gally stepped forward, addressing the children with clear instructions they would be able to follow in the chaos that lay outside the door, waiting for them.

“You. You guard this with your life, you understand?" He gave a boy that was standing at the front of the group the serum. Before he takes off, leading Wicked`s property outside. (Y/N) stays back, making sure everyone left the room before covering the back of the group.

He took out his walkie-talkie, sending a quick message to their escort: "Brenda, where are you? We are here." Only a moment later a bus drove in front of them, showing a smiling Brenda who immediately opened the doors and helped get the children in, who eagerly scramble inside.

They reached the garage without many complications. Gally stopped abruptly letting the kids be covered by a connecting wall. His eyes roamed towards the other side of the huge parking space, breathing heavily from all the running.

"Stay low. Go go go." Gally lifted his hand, signaling the kids to run in front of him so he could watch the other people on the other side. When all of them are in front of him, he falls in step with (Y/N) and they run alongside each other until they reach a safer spot.

(Y/N) prayed he would find the others quickly and return to them. But her hopes were crushed when shortly after their departure guards appear close to them. In a hushed voice, Brenda tells the children to get down, hoping they will turn around and leave. Slowly they make their way toward the vehicle, guns raised. Brenda looks back at (Y/N), her eyebrows raised in a silent question. Every scenario was rushing through her head. The possibility to leave Gally behind to die was a heavy burden in her heart but she nodded. Her responsibility was bringing the scared children, clutching tightly onto each other, to freedom. Far away from Wicked so they would be safe.

"Where is Thomas?" Brenda asked puzzled, her eyes searching for her friend.

"I thought he was with you," Gally responded, sending the last child into the bus before focusing on the stubborn girl, who was already leaving the bus.

"Wait, wait. Stay here with the kids. Just wait. I'll find him."

“I will come with you.” (Y/N) decided but got a stern look from the man in front of her.

"Stay here. Wait with Brenda and guard the kids. I will come back I promise." His eyes are swimming with fear. Desperate to know that she will be safe until they arrive. His eyes pleaded with her to just give in. Which she did. Knowing they were only losing precious time, so she nodded, before stepping close to him.

"Stay safe." She gave him a quick kiss, hoping to show him that she needed him to return to her, before hopping on the bus as well. Gally pulls down his mask, clutching his gun before jogging back to the wicked compound.

Shortly after they left the wicked building behind, police cars appeared next to them. Chasing them through tight streets, with Brenda trying to shake them off. The bus swang to every side, aspiring to hit the police cars. Brenda turned into a different street, praying to finally get away, only to race towards a barrier, packed with cars and armed soldiers. Brenda reacted immediately, doing an emergency breaking that jolts all of them. They were panting heavily, hearts racing against each other while their bodies were still. No one moved afraid of breaking down.

"Sorry Thomas," Brenda muttered but it got drowned out by the starting motor.

“Hold tight, kids.” (Y/N) spoke loudly while Brenda pushed the gas pedal, making the guards in front of them scramble out of the way before they started driving through the city.

The trailer of the crane dropped in front of her. (Y/N) reached for it to secure it onto the front of the bus. Bullets flew next to her, trying to let at least someone suffer for all the damage they had caused, but the bullets just went past. Not even grazing her. As soon as (Y/N) is inside, the bus gets lifted into the air. Everyone getting pushed against their seat, while (Y/N) held onto one of the handrails in the front.

“Get out of the vehicle!” A voice bellowed.

"Give me the flashing light." Brenda shook her head vehemently. Clutching it tightly to her chest.

"Brenda, I have the bulletproof vest. Give it to me." Her grip faltered slowly. She never offered it up to the other woman but instead, she had to take it. (Y/N) held the light in a white-knuckled grip, stepping out of the bus without looking back at the immunes. She would leave them to Brenda.

"Step away from the vehicle. Put your hands in the air. Drop the weapon."

(Y/N) took slow steps until she was in front of the bus, raising her hands in the same fashion before smirking and firing the flashing light into the sky.

A red light engulfed the night sky, her eyes twinkled pleased. Finally, she was able to return what Wicked had done to her. A few years ago she was incapable of saving her friends. She failed, but she would make sure to give the children packed on the bus a chance for a new life.

When they reached the top height, Brenda whooped. Happy to finally be out of danger, only to get her hopes crushed by the loud creaking of the bumper. Frypan drops them fast outside the city, just stopping a few meters before they hit the ground. The bus falls forward with a loud crash, deafening the screams of the children. When they reached the ground safely, loud panting was heard throughout the vehicle until Brenda's loud voice broke the deadly silence.

A loud explosion is heard that shakes the ground. Everyone scrambles outside, seeing the last city burn with flames. (Y/N) imagined she could hear the screams. They wanted to save and know they helped to destroy. In this world, nothing would ever be without a cost. Without regret and doubt. They would always try to save only to see the world burn again.

"Okay everybody out."

They walk the last few meters over scorched land to the hideout but when they reach it nobody is there.

"Lawrence!" Brenda called out, hoping for a reply.

"Everyone is gone." (Y/N) spoke out the thought, nobody dared to. Her home was abandoned. All the people she had considered family left, without knowing if they would ever see each other again. She could imagine they were preparing for a war against Wicked. Without caring for all the lives they would take. Without caring that Gally was still in there.

"Just get the others. Get everybody out."

A cracking noise was heard from the walkie-talkie that sparks hope. Brenda answered immediately.

"Thomas, you there?"

"We're not gonna make it."

He sounded out of breath and out of hope. Screams and gunshots could be heard from the other side, making (Y/N)s eyes sting. Her heartbeat racing, trying to sprint towards the burning buildings itself. "What are you talking about?"

"No. I'm not leaving you. So forget it." (Y/N) could taste the sour panic in her mouth. She could not stand to watch, to listen. Her feet gave in, making her fall to the ground unceremoniously. She couldnt lose Gally. Not again. He was her life. She couldn't survive it for a second time. Her breath became rapid. All the memories of them together flashed through her mind. The future they wanted laying dead in a casket with cold hands and ash skin. She wouldnt survive it. A loud noise erupted next to her, bright lights she couldnt place making her eyes squint. Strong hands were on her, helping her up from the cold stone floor but she couldnt make out their voices, their faces. Everything was a blur until someone placed a hand over her heart.

“Youre safe. We`re all gonna be okay. We will get them out of there. Help is here.” Frypan spoke slowly toward them while (Y/N) lifted her head to look around. The scenery had shifted towards a metallic aircraft, flying them towards the high flames. Towards Gally. Relief painted over her face, letting her close her eyes before the airplane landed and she had to stand up again. The war was not won yet.

They waited anxiously. Brenda's eyes were glued onto the tunnels, the way the boys should come from. Whereas (Y/N) was pacing around, picking at the skin around her fingernails, while watching the flames climb higher and higher.

“We need the cure!” Minho panted. No air was left in his lungs for talking but Brenda didn`t need to reply. Racing towards the tunnels herself with the boys and (Y/N) closely behind. Gally and (Y/N) were the only ones left with guns, taking over to cover the others from attacks.

“There!” Frypan screamed, pointing at two running figures. (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Gally but her heart plummeted when she couldn`t spot Thomas and Newt anywhere.

The city was a mess. Cars were turned around, windows smashed and whole stores set aflame. Corpses were scattered around, while more were added to it.

(Y/N) drags herself behind the others. Her feet getting heavy and her brain hurting from all the screams and lights. A piercing pain ripped through her body. A scream ripped through the bright night sky while her hands clutched her abdomen. Getting stained with wet, red liquid. Her eyes were blown wide, looking forward to Gally who stood paralyzed a few feet in front of her, sprinting back to catch her before she hit the ground.

They took cover behind a car, (Y/N) shooting behind herself to get rid of a wicked guard that had been following them for quite a while. The others took off before the guard got hit by one of the bullets, leaving (Y/N) to fend for herself. The man falls shortly after. His eyes became lifeless while blood is trickling out of his wound.

They lay together on the ground, people moving around them but unseeing. His lips were moving, but she couldn`t make out his words. Her eyes slipped shut when she felt Gally encircle his arms around her.

The ocean was crashing. Whispering tails of heartbreak and love. Birds chirping above it, to add details. It smelled salty and clear like freedom and peace.

But her eyelids were heavy, refusing to open, while her body dragged her back down to darkness. It was war, fighting. A battle she couldn't lose.

She slipped in and out of dreamless sleep. Accompanying her until she felt ready to see the new world. The world they had created.

Slowly her eyes opened, registering the grey ceiling above her, it looked trist and old.

Wind swept through the open door, flying over her face, gently tickling her awake. Forcing her to move her head and acknowledge the blue paradise outside of her shed.

"Hey." A voice rasped beside her. Her eyes blinked blearily to focus on the man who had stayed at her side.

"Hey." Her voice was croaky and broken but it reached its destination. A tired smile played around his lips, while he took her hands.

"I missed you." Gally gave her a glass of water that was already prepared at her bedside table.

She nodded in gratefulness and tried sitting up, but a jolt went through her body, making her wince in pain. Hands automatically reached to her stomach.

"You got shot at the last city." He gently helped her to get her upper body straight. Positioning it gently on the pillows. Before bringing the glass towards her lips.

"Rob did everything she could. She saved you." His eyes were downcast. Avoiding her eyes.

"It's not your fault."

"But it is."

"There was nothing you could have done."

"I…I should have taken care of you. Looked out better."

"Gally, there is nothing you anyone could have done." (Y/N)'s eyes were truthful. Her face gentle with no regret etched onto it.

They sat in silence. Thinking about all the smoke and gunshots filling the air a few days ago, while the waves gently tried to wash away their sorrows.

"We're safe now. The boat got ready today. We will go to the safe haven this evening." Gally spoke up. His voice was a hopeful whisper. He that if he spoke of it their luck would run out and they couldn't reach paradise again.

A peaceful expression reached (Y/N)'s face. She let her eyelids fall shut again. A sigh that was trapped inside of her for years finally found the light of day.

"I will bring you to paradise. I promise." Gally cupped her face, breathing a kiss onto her forehead.

"You have said that before, you know? When we were children." (Y/N)'s expression never changed. Unconcerned about the secret she had just revealed.

"When we were Children?"

"Mhh, I already met you at the wicked camp." Her eyes opened abruptly, facing him again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier." She studied his expression but his face remained stoic not showing what he felt.

"I don't remember."

"That's okay. It was a long time ago." Her body relaxed at that.

"Is that why you trusted me when we picked you up at the ruins?" She nodded. Their memories fluttered through her brain chasing each other and creating their relationship.

"I fell in love with you again."

"I fell in love with you too."

Her eyes closed. Smiling warmly. Her mind felt at ease. The pain in her abdomen not hurting as badly as it did moments ago. Warmth spread through her body and she thought if dying felt like this she would enjoy it. Because it smelled like freedom and peace and love.

But she would open her eyes again, a few hours later on a boat in the middle of the ocean and they would already see their paradise.

[p-e-e-b-s]

| Don’t you dare |

-paring(s): Minho x Gn!reader

-summary: after being in the scorch for god knows how long, you finally see an out, but what happens when a sudden thunderstorm takes over?

-categories (? Idk what to call this part): Established relationship, thunderstorms, lightning, light swearing (I think), Minho nearly dies (we’ve all seen/ read it), angst (I love tmr angst), second person pov (you, yours etc), based on the movie but use of W.I.C.K.E.D because I think it looks nicer, light swearing

-a/n: fist maze runner fic ever ! I love tme angst so much I can’t lie yk. Also can I just say that Minho has so,e fucking cool ass lightning strike scars ?? Not mentioned in the fic but I just felt I had to point that out.

-760 words

It seems like a lifetime since your move out of Janson’s facility (or rat man, as your boyfriend kindly nicknamed him) , and you were starting to feel like it was a bad idea.

You shook the thought as quickly as it came, reminding yourself that the shelter was just another one of W.I.C.K.E.D’s cruel tricks on your mind.

Now, you were off to find the right arm.

‘That’s your plan? Mountain people? Really, Thomas?’ You had asked him when he had graciously shared his genius plan to the rest of you only after he’d dragged you out of the of Rat man’s hospitality. You weren’t convinced at the time, thinking it was just Thomas being paranoid, but as you thought about it more, it started to make a lot more sense. The fake-looking suicide of Ava Paige, the desperate rushing of your saviours in helicopters, and of course, the questionable pickings of people going to the safe haven. Now, you had found out, there was no safe haven, only a secret testing chamber. Rows upon rows of people just like yourselves, hooked up to machines, literally having the life drained from them, now only sacks of tissue and bone. You shiver at the fact that would have been you in their place, if you stayed forpossibly as little as a day more. You’d never admit it to him, no, but you’re genuinely thankful for Thomas, the amount of shit he has gotten you all out of and continues to get you out of is nothing short of heroic.

‘Y/n? You alright?’

You hadn’t even noticed the group all looking at you, too caught up in your own mind, until Newts voice filled your ears.

You gave them a reassuring nod. Minho gave your hand a comforting squeeze and shot you a smile. You kindly returned it.

As you’re all gathered around the campfire, your eyes begin to struggle to keep themselves open. You lean your head on your boyfriends shoulder just as they eventually close fully and lull you to sleep.

***

‘Guys, wake up.’

Thomas’ urgent voice invaded your mind as you woke up. You darted your eyes around to find what it was he had to wake you all up for.

You found it.

Lights.

It may not seem like much to any onlooker, but for you guys, this was paradise; right now in this very situation, this was your safe haven. It looked like a thriving community- well, ‘thriving’ should be taken with a pinch of salt, but for lack of a better term, they were indeed thriving as much as a community could in these circumstances.

Your group had better get a move on, not just because most of you were severely dehydrated, but also because of the thunderstorm that rolled above.

It was angry; and it was coming right for you.

You hadn’t even noticed Minho grabbing your hand and tugging you toward civilisation until you nearly face planted on the sand. However he still continued to pull you to the rest of the group, concern looming in his face. After reassuring him you were fine, he had let go of you and let you run slightly infront of him (when you both know he is much faster than you).

A large scream was heard from directly behind you. You whipped your head around to find the source when you see Minho on the sand, unconscious.

And everything just stopped.

You rushed to his side, tripping over your own feet in the process, and you fell directly beside him.

‘Minho? Minho wake up! Please.’

You repeated these words over and over again, tapping gently but firmly on the side of his face.

Suddenly, Newt and Thomas were at your side, picking him up and dragging him to the building you were all running to. You followed behind closely, not letting him out of your sights.

When you all got inside, the two boys dropped him gently on the concrete. You were all huddled around him, shouting at him to wake up as tears fought to fall.

A voice croaked from beneath you, a pair of eyes fluttered open.

The whole group letout a collective sigh of relief.

A single tear rolled down your face, a light and breathy chuckle escaped your throat.

‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily, sweetheart.’ Your previously unconscious boyfriend joked, probably trying to soften the atmosphere.

‘You asshole.’ You said while laughing again and gently hitting his arm. ‘Don’t you dare do that to me again.’

‘I’ll try.’

[subjecta5theglue]

this is your formal reminder NOT to write fanfiction in the notes of your phone, but to write it on your laptop/literally any other device instead. it's been months, and the predictive text on my phone still comes up with "newt" or "thomas" after the most random words. i literally cant get rid of it 😐

[luuuuucyscorner]

Welcome to my Corner!

《 Hi! My name is Lucy, welcome to my blog! 》

●GET TO KNOW ME!●

My name is Lucy and I'm from England! I live in Australia and miss the UK.

my masterlist <3

taglist form <3

i write fanfiction and DO take requests

i post every Saturday and Sunday (but try to post other days too!)

I love horror and serial killers as well as films and TV and music.

My favourite actors are Evan Peters and Matthew Gray Gubler and Bryn Chapman Parish.

My top artists are Måneskin, Hozier, Slipknot, Arctic Monkeys, Conan Grey and Mac The Knife!

[nimmydeede]

There we are

[col0rlord]

Louder for the ones in the back

Thomas Sangster x reader 

Summery: Dylan says something embarrassing on live TV about you and Thomas.

This one isn’t as long as the other Fanfics I do. again anything misspelled I am sorry. and I hope you Enjoy<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was so proud of him.

Dylan was saying the winner for an award at the Oscars and he had a drink in his hand along with a card held by his pinky. You could tell he was a little buzzed from how his face fell. I sat next to my boyfriend, Thomas and the rest of the cast of the Maze Runner series. We were put in the front row because the The Death Cure was nominated for a few awards. 

I was holding Thomas’s hand under the table as I listened to the story and remembering the times Dylan told us about it happening. 

He had a bit in the beginning were he was saying jokes and stories. He was Telling a story about a time he was put in a hotel room next to screaming children and he barely got sleep that night.

“These children wouldn’t stop screaming. Like please some people have work at 4 am. The next morning was hell to film as you expected. Tired as hell and having to do stunts all morning with no energy. I swear I was in the air at one point and took a nap. Like I was just hanging from the harness. Folded forwards”

Everyone giggled and he just smiled and looked down at his feet. Kicking dust that wasn’t there.

“Yea, Yea, But I guess you get used to loud screaming when you get put in a room next to Y/N and Thomas.”

My mouth hung open a little. I can’t believe he just said that to the world.

We all could hear laughing and people ooing at us. This was not real.

I looked over at Thomas and his face and covered by his hand and he was laughing to himself. Rubbing his forehead.

I looked back at Dylan and saw he was laughing and looking at me as well.

“I’m going to beat your ass later.” I mouthed to him.

“You’re going to beat my ass? Like Thomas that night.” He said again. I let out a breathy laugh and covered my face with my hands. I was so Embarrassed. I feel like I wasn’t going to make it out of this place alive.

Dylan was smiling at me. I could feel it. burning on my head.

“We all know it was going down tonight as well anyways.” He said again. 

I felt like this was going to never end.  

[myocsfanfictions]

THE WCKD PROJECT

MAZE RUNNER SMUTS

Hello, this is not a real fanfiction, I will use my OC Marie from Caged (my TMR fanfiction) to develop this SMUTS COLLECTION.

What if the experiments on the boys and girls ended up with the Maze? What if WCKED was interested in study their bodies and brains reactions during sexual activities decided by scientists, while they are recorded?

WARNING EVERY CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT!

If you've got any request let me know.

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

Masterlist

Maze Runner:

Headcanons/Preferences (Thomas, Newt, Minho, Gally)

He Gets Jealous

Spending a Rainy Day with Him

What It's Like Having Him as a Close Friend

You Protect Him

You Challenge Him to Spar at a Bonfire

Imagine: He Protects You

X-Men (films):

Logan Howlett

The Injury

TFP:

Headcanons/Preferences

Group + Reader

[liplessthomas14]

He tries to remember and accept the fact that this is the home he'd grown up in for 16 years because that's what everyone asking him questions and writing down all his answers on clipboards says but this room with all its murder mystery novels and lacrosse sticks and tricoloured wool and Adderal bottles and years worth of photographs of people he doesn't know just doesn't feel like him and he has no idea how he could've ever been a person like this.

Or,

Thomas is back in Beacon Hills, and he is NOT adjusting very well.

[prettyellafr]

I have an idea in my head, and I love it sm.

Can someone please write a Minho fic where reader was the only girl in the maze (like usual lol) then minho and reader fell inlove, then minho promised he wouldn't fall for another girl even if they got out of the maze

BUT when they finally got to the safe haven he finds himself starting to fall for another girl while he was in a relationship with reader, and then they fight, and then the ending is well i don't know, I could imagine it go bad and imagine it go right

did that make sense? English isn't my first language, sorry if it's a bit confusing

[hollybell51]

Worse ways to cope

Series masterlist, masterpost

Minho x fem!Reader

The Death Cure (2011 novel - James Dashner, 2018 film - Wes Ball)

Word count: 4658

Summary: “lightly buzzed” confessions leading to making out leading to sex on a shitty couch. Set post-canon (hence The Death Cure as source media)

Content: smut. A massive amount of backstory for absolutely no reason. A lot of angst, talking about Newt dying (so violence, bit of mentioned blood/wounds etc). DRINKING! ALCOHOL! Unhealthily used alcohol! Don’t read this if you don’t wanna read about using alcohol as a coping strategy (disclaimer! I’m not endorsing or romanticising this at all, and I don’t encourage it! If things are rough, you should just spew your thoughts to strangers on the internet. Substances = bad coping mechanism). Kinda friends with benefits, feelings confessions, porn with feelings, making out, blowjobs, hickeys, light dirty talk, missionary, sex on a couch, safe sex (condoms! Yay!), first time 

Notes: I got like three people asking for the others after I posted the Newt one so here you go, enjoy! Also apologies for the really bad summaries, I just suck at doing them and I can’t exactly get a friend to read my stuff then do it for me lmao

You set down the bottle with a soft “clunk”, leaning back against the couch. It was old and battered and a lot of the coverings on the cushions were coming off, not to mention the countless holes, but compared to the last few months it was heaven. The whole Safe Haven was heaven. 

“That better not be empty,” Minho said, eyeing the (not empty) bottle between your feet. 

“Half full,” you replied. “Is it Gally’s?” 

He nodded. It sure tasted like the god-awful moonshine Gally used to make in the Glade, but you couldn’t be sure. Horrible as it was, the burn and the bitterness was familiar and welcome, a tie to the life and the people you’d left behind. 

You glanced at your friend. He was slumped beside you, idly fiddling with the hem of his shirt, staring at the wall. You’d done this before, in the days since you’d arrived at the Safe Haven. But today was different, or he was different today. You could feel it. Maybe it was the warm breeze that had picked up around lunch time, maybe it was the prospect of the group of people who had volunteered to leave the safe haven tomorrow. Either way, you were restless and fidgety and there was definitely something tense in Minho. 

It had been exactly a month since you’d arrived, and there was something heavier about everyone who’d been there in the city that night; you, Minho, Brenda, Thomas and Gally. Newt’s absence was like when you lost a tooth and you couldn’t stop running your tongue over where it should be, only to find empty space. And pain. 

Even now, you could still see every detail with perfect clarity. The blue of the lights mingled with the orange of the fires, debris raining left and right as the walls came tumbling down and the desperate people from outside stormed the city. You didn’t want to think about your friend, lying on the ground, the handle of the knife sticking straight up from his chest. You didn’t even want to think about Teresa, sinking into a pit of flames as you all watched, helpless. You wanted to block the whole thing from your mind. 

“I should’ve been faster,” Minho said, snapping you back to the present. “I could’ve saved him.” 

You snorted. “We all could’ve saved him.” It always came back to this, no matter what. You’d sit down, have a normal conversation, maybe even crack some jokes, but then there was that massive pit yawning inside you that inevitably sucked everyone back to that night. It was like a black hole, so dense that nothing could escape its pull, devouring everything around it. But it was something that tied you together, and as much you hated it, you didn’t hate it. 

He turned to look at you, his brow furrowed. “Do you blame me?” 

You slowly bent, picked up the bottle and took another mouthful. Did you blame him? You couldn’t say you didn’t think it was his fault Newt had died, but Thomas had been the one with the knife and anyone else in the party had failed to see the signs or notice the scratch on his arm. You felt a bit bad for laying it all one someone who was dead, but really it was Newt’s fault for not telling anyone. 

“(Y/N)?” Minho was looking at you, and though he tried to keep his face neutral, his eyes were pleading with you. Say no, he seemed to be screaming, say it wasn’t me. You knew the feeling all too well. You’d played the whole thing over and over, trying to work out if you could have done anything, and had come to the conclusion that if you’d been quicker getting the bloody berg to the rendezvous point, Newt probably still would have been alive. It ate at you even though you’d decided to put the responsibility on his shoulders. 

“A lot of things could’ve gone different,” you said at last. “If he’d just told us straight off the bat, chances are we’d have gotten the cure. Simple as that.” 

“You’re right.” He nodded, blowing out a breath between his teeth. “You’re right.” 

“I wish I could just scratch the whole thing off my brain. It’s like…” you hesitated, struggling to find the words. “It’s like this coating over everything, you know?” 

“Yeah,” he laughed, taking the bottle from between your legs. “I know what you mean.” 

You were feeling lighter, softer. You supposed it was the alcohol hitting, but nothing really seemed as dark and real as it had just minutes before. It was like someone else’s memory, still sitting uncomfortably in your mind, but duller. You leaned over, resting your head on Minho’s shoulder and tracing a lemniscate on his thigh. Or an eight, depending on how you looked at it. 

“This tastes so bad,” he whispered, as if the stuff in the bottle might hear him and get offended. “But it’s so good.” 

“We should save some for later,” you whispered back. But you knew you wouldn’t, you never did. Thomas would frown if he saw you now, if he could hear your thoughts. He’d told you countless times to lay off the drinking, that he knew it was an escape but that that was bad, that it was better for everyone if you all just toughed it out sober and miserable. You had to disagree with him there. 

Minho passed you the bottle, and you clumsily replaced the lid. You slid it onto the ground, groaning as it toppled over. But it was stoppered, so it would be fine. 

“Keep doing that,” he told you, gesturing to your hand. You’d stopped tracing patterns on him to close the bottle, but at his words you resumed. He sighed, watching your fingers raptly. 

“I’m happy you’re here,” you said eventually. It was true, he’d been your pillar of support over the last month. You’d sat together at almost every meal, worked on whatever it was you were doing together, talked about whatever you wanted to talk about, walked together and, yes, gotten drunk together. It was ridiculously comforting to have someone you liked being around who wanted to be around you. 

“I’m pretty stoked about it too,” he grinned. You lightly punched his arm. “Seriously though,” he went on. “I’m happy you’re here.” 

You looked up from your tracing, meeting his eyes. He was sincere, for once, and totally open. You hadn’t realised how important that was until recently, but now you treasured the fact that you could see his thoughts on his face. He could see yours too. 

He glanced around quickly, but the recreation-room-turned-second-storage-shed you haunted was far enough from everyone else that nobody was going to disturb you. That was what you liked about it. Minho’s eyes found your own again, then flicked down to your lips, so fast you thought you’d imagined it. Were you that kind of drunk? Did you want to be? Then it happened again, and you were sure it was real. 

Oh, was all you could think as he leaned forward, closing the gap between you with a kiss so gentle you could hardly believe it was coming from Minho, who never did anything by halves, and was always so loud and quick to add his five cents to anything. But his mouth was hesitant against yours, giving you plenty of time to draw back and tell him no, tell him that this wasn’t what you wanted. 

Ironically, it was that very gentleness that cemented in your mind that yes, you very much did want this. You were angled awkwardly, twisted in the middle of your body with your legs beside his and your chest pressed against his shoulder. As you returned the kiss you shifted, your hands finding purchase on the front of his shirt, your fingers tangling in the material. 

His own hands moved lightly down your sides, pulling at you to come closer. Without breaking the kiss, you slid a leg over his and shifted to straddle him, your hands still firmly planted on his chest. He was solid, real and warm and fuck he felt good to touch. Your earlier restlessness had migrated down to sit between your legs, uncomfortably warm and not entirely welcome. 

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he whispered, pulling back for air. “I’m sorry, I don’t wanna take advantage of you or anything like that–” 

“You’re not,” you cut him off. 

“You’re drunk.” 

“I’m buzzed, and not any more than you.” 

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he looked from your face to the empty space behind you, the cogs whirring in his head. Damn him and his morals, you thought. Why did he have to choose now to be the perfect gentleman? 

“If you don’t want to…” you started, but stopped when he shook his head. “You don’t want to?” 

“I do,” he practically growled. “And that’s the bloody problem, isn’t it? We’re supposed to be friends, but every time we do this I end up thinking about you and then I want you and I don’t wanna want you like that cause you’re my friend, (Y/N), and we’re supposed to just…” He waved a hand helplessly, trailing off into nothing. 

“Do you want me to shut you down?” you asked after a pause. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? Minho wasn’t one for big sappy speeches, he dropped casual little bombs into everyday conversation, or let you pick up on things yourself. He didn’t pour it all out like that. 

He laughed, a bitter huff of breath that still smelled like Gally’s moonshine, gesturing at your thighs either side of his hips, your hands knotted in his shirt. “Do you wanna shut me down? Cause you’re not doing a great job.” 

You bit your lip. You could feel the heat of his kiss like it was still happening, and God you wanted it to still be happening. You couldn’t stop now, couldn’t just say “no, I don’t want you,” and go back to your business, least of all because it’d be a fat bloody lie. 

“I’m not gonna shut you down,” you said eventually. “I’m gonna give you till ‘three’ to shut me down, and then I’m gonna go right back to kissing you. Got it? One, two—” 

His lips collided with yours, so hard and fast you couldn’t stop the moan from escaping you. It was a mess of tongue and teeth and lips as he pulled you even closer, his fingers digging into your waist almost painfully. Almost. 

“Jesus, Minho,” you panted between kisses. How long had he wanted to do this for? Was it just when he was drunk, or did he think about you while he was eating lunch beside you, while you two were doing your various jobs, when he was sleeping. Maybe he did, you’d sure felt the evidence that he was thinking about someone some mornings when you woke up wrapped in his arms, and you were right there… If it had been anyone else the idea would have made you feel gross, somehow violated, but right now it just turned you on. 

“Say it,” he murmured, his kisses moving away from your lips and down your jaw to your neck. 

“Say what?” 

“Say you want me.” 

Again, you couldn’t stop the moan from escaping you. You were sure gonna have a hickey in the morning, but he felt good and he wanted you to tell him you wanted him… “I want you,” you whispered. 

“Again.” 

“I want you,” you repeated. “I want you to—” You broke off in a sigh as the hand that had been running over your thigh found your ass and squeezed. 

“Want me to what?” he asked, still paying attention to your neck. 

“I want you to touch me.” 

He paused, and for a moment you thought you’d overstepped. Then he tilted his chin up to look at you, and smiled. He took the hem of your shirt between his fingers, not touching your skin, but close enough that you still got butterflies. 

“Can I take this off?” he asked, then at your nod, pulled it swiftly over your head. “God, you’re hot,” he whispered, bending to pepper your chest with more kisses along the line of your bra. 

“Gonna make me blush,” you laughed, but the joke was lost between the breathiness of your voice and the fact that you were, in fact, blushing. It wasn’t that he – or anyone else – had never paid you a compliment, but when he said it here, like that… well, your drenched panties could speak to its effect. 

Minho’s hands were at the waistband of your pants now, and sweet Jesus you wanted him to just hurry up and touch you. You nodded frantically as he met your eyes in a question, and without further hesitation he slipped his fingers into your pants. 

“You weren’t lying, huh?” he grinned. “You want me.” 

“I want you to stop being such a tease,” you muttered. 

He grinned wider. “Sure thing,” he said, his fingers brushing over your clit. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily. 

“There,” you gasped, “right there.” 

“Here?” Minho raised an eyebrow, his fingers circling the sensitive bundle of nerves again. 

“Fuck you,” you half laughed, half panted, only to be cut off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately and if so where he’d learnt it, but who really cared when it felt so damn good? 

“Please?” he whispered, watching your face carefully. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever just— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that definitely made Minho blush, even as he smiled, when he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps. 

“Like that?” he asked, as if your reaction wasn’t enough to tell him. 

“How the fuck are you so good at this?” you asked. It was ridiculous, unfair. There really hadn’t been anything to learn from in the Maze, and this was the first time either of you had done this with anyone – that you could remember. 

He frowned for a second, but (mercifully) didn’t stop. “I dunno. Am I really that good?” 

It was your turn to grin. “Yeah,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he was that good. He was kissing your neck again, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip. He guided your movements as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours. 

You could feel the hard, tight coil building in your stomach, your thighs and stomach already twitching as Minho’s fingers curled inside you. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back, the little movement sending shockwaves of pleasure down to your toes, making your whole body spasm. 

“Fuck, Minho,” you said as you came down from your high, still trembling. He’d stopped moving, his warm palm cupping your sensitive pussy gently. He was being really gentle with you, you reflected. It wasn’t that he was rough any other time, it was just not what you’d expected. It was nice. 

“You alright?” he asked. 

“Better than alright,” you whispered. “That was… really good.” You glanced down at his hand, now withdrawing from your pants covered in your wetness. Your gaze flicked up slightly to the now very noticeable bulge in his own pants, and you felt a bolt of heat go through you once more. “Can I…?” you trailed off, your fingers resting lightly just beside his zipper. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded, already beginning to undo his belt buckle. “God, yeah.” 

Minho’s eyes stayed on your face as you slid backwards off his lap, settling on your knees between his legs. You were careful and precise as you pulled his pants down, then his underwear. He was hard, you’d guessed that much, and it wasn’t that you’d never seen a dick before, but something about Minho’s dick made you hesitate. You weren’t really sure how this was supposed to go, and only knew that you wanted to touch him, and you wanted to make him feel as amazing as he’d made you feel just minutes before. 

“Do I use my mouth?” you asked, then blushed. “Sorry, dumb question. Want me to use my mouth?” 

“As long as you don’t bite me,” he joked. 

You shrugged. “I’ll try,” you said, smiling up at him before taking his cock between your hands and lowering your head, placing a gentle kiss on the tip. You checked again, and at his nod, opened your mouth and slid as much of him as would fit into it. He cursed, his hand flying to your hair and his fingers tangling in it. 

“You alright?” you asked, drawing back. 

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Don’t stop.” 

You nodded, going down on him again. You were mindful of your teeth, instead using mostly your tongue and your hands where your mouth wouldn’t fit. You didn’t want to choke on him or, God forbid, make yourself sick on his dick. But the movements were easy, and Minho was guiding you. You let a moan escape you, which in turn made his hips jolt. You hummed again, and his hold on your hair tightened. 

“God, you’re so good,” he whispered. “You look so good.” 

That really made you moan, an embarrassingly desperate sound to accompany the embarrassingly desperate way your thighs rubbed together in search of any friction. This boy was driving you insane, and you were completely helpless. 

You didn’t stop your increasingly messy sucking and licking, completely enraptured by the little breaths and gasps your attention was conjuring from Minho, revelling in his hand in your hair and the occasional curses or words of praise he let slip. You probably could have stayed there forever, listening to him forever, feeling his hot weight in your mouth forever, if he hadn’t brought his hand to your face and gently eased you off him. He surveyed your face carefully, running his thumb across your reddened and swollen lips. 

“Hm?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. Were you doing something wrong? Did he want something else? 

“If you kept that up I wouldn’t get to fuck like I want to,” he said softly. 

Now it was your turn to be the teasing one. “And how’s that?” you asked, delicately licking your lips. 

“On the couch, on your back, without your clothes.” 

“Do I get a say in it?” you joked. 

“Oh shit, sorry,” he said quickly. “If you don’t want to we don’t have to, it’s fine–” 

“I was joking,” you cut him off, your cheeks flaming. “I want you to do whatever you damn well want to me.” 

“Oh,” he said, his face equally as pink as your own. “Ok then.” Then he frowned. “We don’t have a condom.” 

You cursed, rising from your kneeling position to glance around the shelves. It was a storage shed, right? Surely there’d have to be a first aid box somewhere. You spotted it next to a tub labelled “fire”, quickly crossing the room and rifling through it until you found what you were looking for. The packet was sealed, and while you didn’t exactly keep track of time how people used to, you had a feeling it was a bit past the expiry date. Still, semi-expired condom was better than no condom. 

You threw it to Minho with a “catch!” before returning to your place next to the couch, reaching behind you to your bra clip. “If I take my clothes off will you take yours off?” 

“It’s gonna be a bit hard to make this work through clothes.” He rolled his eyes, spinning the packaged condom between his fingers as he pulled his shirt over his head and quickly kicked off his pants. You gave yourself a moment just to look at him, to take in the perfectly formed muscles moving so smoothly under his smooth golden skin. The odd scar from various exploits did nothing to detract from how fucking gorgeous he was. Now you knew what people meant when they said someone had the body of a God, because that was the image Minho evoked in your mind. 

“You’re so…” You trailed off, unsure how to say it without sounding corny. Then you shrugged. Who cared if it was corny when it was true? “You’re beautiful.” 

Minho didn’t quite seem to know how to respond to that, he just laughed and ran a hand through his hair in a way that if you didn’t know better, you would have said was almost bashful. “So are you,” he said, meeting your eyes earnestly. Then he grinned, patting the couch next to him. “Come on, just get up here.”

“Ok,” you smiled. You stripped yourself of your remaining clothing, casting it carelessly aside and sliding down next to him. You nodded at the condom. “Do you know how to do that?” 

He frowned. “Yeah.” He tore it open and put it on with a few fumbles and awkward joking (both from you and him), then looked at you and smiled as if to say “see? I got this, I know what I’m doing.” 

“Good?” you asked, returning his smile. 

“Good.” He kissed you again, holding your face gently in his warm hands. You grabbed his wrists, moving those hands down your jaw, your neck, your chest to rest on your breasts. He gave an experimental squeeze, and you hummed against his lips. Yes, that was good, that felt good. 

You moved your own hands to his shoulders, pulling him with you as you tipped backwards to lie on your back, wrapping your legs around his waist. It took you a moment to get yourselves figured out and comfortable, but you finally settled with his hips slotted between your thighs, his arms propping him just above you. You could feel his hardness pressed against your still dripping centre, and you pulled him even closer, rocking your hips gently. 

“(Y/N),” he whispered, his breath warm on your skin. 

“Are you gonna fuck me?” you asked, still holding him close against you. 

“I sure plan on it,” he grinned. He reached between your bodies to his dick, carefully lining it up at your entrance. He looked to you for permission, and at your nod, softly slid inside you. You both gasped at the feeling, the stretch and the warmth of it. It was like he was made for you, the way he fit. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, your fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulder. 

“Alright?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“Move,” you practically pleaded. He did, slow and steady as you got used to each other. Everything he did seemed to be so smooth, you reflected. Every little movement he made – whether it was walking, throwing you a roll of bread at dinner, and yes, fucking you – was so precise and even, perfect down to the last atom. It was the same easy grace that made him such an amazing runner, such an amazing athlete in general. Maybe in another life he could have even been a dancer. 

“You feel so good,” he murmured, bending his head to deliver more sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your neck and chest. Yep, you were gonna have hickeys when he was done. 

“You feel good,” you replied. Your breath was coming short, a light sheen of sweat gathering over your skin even though you weren’t the one doing all the work. You reached down, running a finger in tiny circles over your clit. 

“I wanna hear you,” he said. “Stop tryna be quiet, we’re far enough away.” 

“Shit, ok,” you replied. Something about his words really got to you, sending a bolt of heat shivering down your entire body. He was so unintentionally good at it – talking – it was obscene. Your own hand combined with the steady thrusting of his dick was almost too much, not to mention you were still sensitive from cumming on his hand earlier. You weren’t going to last long, and judging by Minho’s shuddering breaths and muttered curses, your name sprinkled throughout, neither was he. 

“Fuck, (Y/N), oh my God,” he moaned, his hands balled into fists in the couch’s worn out fabric. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped as you felt the tightness coiling inside you, more, more, more– “Holy fuck, I’m gonna–” You released with a frantic cry of his name, your spine arching and your legs locking around his hips. You felt yourself contract around his dick, the stuttering of his strokes as he too reached his climax. 

He slowed eventually, coming to a stop as the tremors receded from your body and your brain returned to your head. You were spent, content to lie there with his warm, comforting weight on top of you until the world stopped turning. 

But alas, he pulled out of you after a minute and took off the condom, tying a neat knot in the end and placing it beside a screwed up piece of newspaper that had held the pieces of dried potato – Frypan’s miserable attempt at making chips – that you’d brought with you when you’d come up here hours ago. You’d hide it in the bin later. 

He sat on the edge of the couch, hands folded neatly, elbows resting on his knees. He looked just as beautiful as ever, you thought, though slightly less sure of himself than usual. You supposed this was new, and neither of you really knew what you were supposed to do. But you wanted to touch him again, wanted to feel his skin on yours and hold him close. 

“Are you just gonna lie there and stare at me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You were jerked back to the present moment, realising that maybe you had been staring. But it didn’t matter, if you got an opportunity you were going to take it. 

“Maybe,” you replied, a smile playing about your lips. “Maybe I’m waiting for you to lie down with me.” 

“It’s a small couch.” 

“We’ve slept on it before, it works fine. Will you just…” You trailed off, exasperated by how needy the words sounded in your head. “Come here and hold me, hug me or something, just lie down beside me” was what you wanted to say. You wanted to grab him and pull him down next to you and wrap yourself around him like some kind of demented python. “Come here,” you said instead. 

Minho only hesitated a moment longer, then smiled and slid onto the decaying cushions beside you, pulling the blanket – or rather, the three badly stitched together blankets that served as a quilt for you when it was cold – over you both. He wrapped his arms around you, his chest warm against your back. 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted this,” he murmured. 

You ran your hand down his arm, lacing your fingers with his own. “Did you?” 

He nodded. “I’d be pretty happy to just stay here forever,” he said. 

You laughed. “Maybe not forever…” 

“Nah, forever.” 

You bent your head, pressing a light kiss to his hand where it rested over your heart. “Ok, forever.” There were worse ways to cope with what you’d both been through, and if sleeping with Minho on the world’s shittiest couch was on the menu, that’d be what you’d choose. 

[toby-du-coeur]

thomally week: death cannot stop true homoerotic rivalry pt. 2

added another chapter >:) @thomallyweek

rating: Explicit

"Why’re you being so nice all of a sudden, Gally, hm?" Thomas mumbles against the stubble of his chin

"Could say the same about you," tickling his skin

"Who says I’m being nice?" Thomas moves his lips, feather-light, over the darkening bruise on Gally’s cheekbone ·"You’re the one who quote unquote, jumped on top of me and started making out with me"

Gally huffs a laugh · "Yeah · well · Almost died · guess my brain got permanently shucked"

"You should almost-die more often…" Thomas' mind catches up with his words and he remembers how much almost-dying there’s been lately · His hands tighten on Gally’s biceps · "actually don’t · maybe don’t"

Gally grins against Thomas' mouth · "Aw man, there go my weekend plans"

Thomas runs his tongue along Gally’s teeth, savours his smile · First smile they’ve shared · first time they’ve been in sync, not fighting for all they were worth (with, in retrospect, many kinds of tension between them) · It feels so, so right