#maze runner imagines

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

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

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

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

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

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

‘Medjack! Medjack, now!’

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

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

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

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

‘What happened?’ Y/N asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You mean I’ll have a limp?’

‘Potentially.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yeah?’ he called back.

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

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

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

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

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

And maybe that was something worth fighting for.

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Clint!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N held it out to Newt. ’Teach me.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Good that.’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All because of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

’Saw what?’ Thomas asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m sorry Newt, but I am not brave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was the end.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Y/N?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

‘Brenda!’

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

If she could make it in time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right as his drove the knife into her stomach.

‘Y/N!’ 

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Y/N?’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘For what?’ she asked.

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

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

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

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

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(The Maze Runner) What It's Like Having Him as a Close Friend

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

Thomas

Quiet conversations while working or in between jobs.

Walls coming down gradually over time.  You both open up about things you’re thinking about.

You lend a hand whenever he gets himself into trouble.  Which is all the time.

Seriously, standing up for this guy is a full-time job in and of itself.

On the flipside, you will have a most loyal and trusted friend.

Thomas will keep your secrets.  He will look out for you.  You can count on him no matter what.

The slightest hint that someone will do you harm will send him into overprotective mode.  He’ll stare down anyone who says or does anything to make you uncomfortable.

He has this uncanny ability to convince you his shenanigans are a good idea on occasion.  It doesn’t always happen, but when he does manage to recruit you, it’s chaos.

Newt

Witty banter back and forth.

Sitting together at mealtimes and spilling the tea about other Gladers and ridiculous things that happen during the day.

This guy believes in his friends so much, and his actions back that.

He’s there to stomp out any doubts you may have about yourself.  He’ll give you a motivational scolding.

Newt appreciates your willingness to help wherever it’s needed.  As second-in-command, he finds himself helping out in different areas.  It brightens his day when you offer up a helping hand.

He’s super knowledgeable about the Glade, and he never gets tired of questions.  Ask away.

Laughing and joking around at bonfires.

Minho 

Playful teasing and taunts.

There’s also some joking flirts.  Silly pet names spoken with light-hearted sarcasm.  It’s his love language.

He’s so full of sass, but can turn around and be serious around others when trying to be tough.

With that being said, he likes to be taken seriously by others.  He saves the jokes for his closest friends, but doesn’t do it in front of Greenies.  There’s a time and place in his mind.

He’s the Keeper of the Runners, so he’s usually gone most of the day.  He’ll rely on you to fill him in on anything that took place during the day - unless of course you’re a Runner too.

You also get a heads up on progress made in the Maze.  You know more than you probably should about what’s going on.

Gally

In the very beginning, he’s like “oh great, a girl greenie” *sarcasm*

You’re so eager to prove yourself, to do your part, and you do in fact start to grow on him.

He realizes that he had some unfair preconceived notions about having a girl in the Glade, and he comes to respect you.  His respect is bestowed on very few, so don’t take it lightly.

He’ll lighten up a bit and not be quite so gruff.  He still picks on you, but it’s more good-natured and genuine, and it’s usually a cover to distract you from the fact that he’s helping.

“Sheesh.  Move over, Greenie.  You’re going to break your back doing that by yourself.”

Values your opinions and really takes them to heart.  While he’ll tell anyone else to quit complaining or take their ideas elsewhere, he’ll listen to you.  If anyone gives him klunk about being a softie, he gives them a death glare.

He picks on you, but won’t stand for anyone else doing it.

[heliads]

Hellloooo!!! I don’t wanna add to your workload so if this just piles on, please delete it! 😅😊 I just had an idea for a newt x reader fic where they’re in an established relationship in the Glade and during a bonfire one night the boys all ask newt questions about what it’s like to date reader and how it feels and newt just answers with the upmost sweetness. Reader overhears and fluff ensues!!!!

fluff ensues has got to be one of my favorite plot descriptions. like yeah it absolutely will do that (and no worries, nothing will stop the workload from being! newt just helps make it better <3)

masterlist

Newt is aware that he is a little bit luckier than most. This is a sentiment that he never thought he’d be caught dead believing. Not in the Glade. Not in the Maze. Not anywhere in this surreal mess of a place. Yet it’s on repeat in his head on a day to day basis nonetheless, ticking off the hours like an alarm clock consisting solely of his blessings. 

Newt didn’t think he’d have that much to brag about. No memories means no history he can mention to his equally luckless friends. Still, he’s got one important victory in his life that no one else can even dream of, and that’s the fact that he’s dating Y/N. Yeah, that certainly sets him apart in the world of good things given to kids who can’t quite convince themselves they deserve them. 

Some would say that Newt is being a little dramatic. He would argue that his response is perfectly within reason. One girl has been sent up in all the months that anyone’s been in the Glade, one girl and one girl alone, and she just happened to choose him. Around here, that’s grounds for being nominated for sainthood. 

Newt isn’t going to act like he’s not just over the moon every time he thinks about the whole situation. Against all odds, Y/N fell in love with him. That’s so unreal that Newt has to pinch himself every hour on the hour just to make sure it isn’t a dream. He never tries too hard, though. Just in case. 

He didn’t have many thoughts on love before she came up. There wasn’t really time now, was there? It was just him and the scores of other stragglers making do in their bloody terrible world. You don’t spend much time lingering over potential sweethearts when the closest thing to a Romeo is Gally yelling at everyone in the Glade except his friends.

Not great dating material, to say the least. Even when Y/N came up that one month, though, he still hadn’t fallen for her from the start. He liked her, obviously, she was nice and didn’t test his patience, but he was perfectly content to keep her as a friend, just that. Great expectations have a way of letting you down. Newt’s learned that if you keep your eyes on the ground, stop looking up at the sun and stars, you’ll be able to deal with it a little easier when all your brightest aspirations go away.

He’d done that before and he planned on doing it again. Even as time passed and he realized that his heart had a funny way of speeding up whenever she was nearby, when it occurred to him that his daily routines always had a way of working in chances to see her, Newt forced himself to ignore everything. Maybe he liked the way the morning sunlight always played on Y/N’s face, maybe he could have spent hours wondering over the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs. It was nothing that he could ever commit to treasuring above anything else.

It took several rounds of self-talk and about a dozen different interventions staged by his friends for Newt to get up the courage to tell Y/N how he felt. Hell, it took at least half of those interventions for him to even admit how he felt to himself. Newt had been internalizing for so long that bringing some of those emotions to the forefront of his attention was damned near impossible. Minho, Alby, and a few others, however, were so sick of seeing him ‘mope around like a lovesick fool,’ to quote them specifically, that they were dedicated to the task of getting him in order.

It worked, too. Newt had run through what could have been a hundred speech variations in his head, all mentioning her character or her sense of humor or any one of the millions of things he liked about her best. In the end, he didn’t choose a single one. The second Newt pulled Y/N away from a crowd of their friends for ‘something he needed to say in private,’ every single whirlwind of thoughts storming through his head came to an abrupt stop. He totally blanked out. 

Newt wouldn’t even know that he managed to force any words out at all were it not for the fact that the effects of that interaction are quite obvious. Somehow, Y/N ended up returning his affections, and they’ve been doing pretty well ever since. Newt doesn’t like counting his eggs before they hatch and all that, but he’d go so far as to say that he doesn’t see it ever breaking down for quite some time, if ever. They’re alright. They’re great, and they’re happy, and in a place like this, you take that and run with it for as long as you can. Maybe it’ll ruin itself someday, but Newt plans on pushing that off to the distant future for forever and a day.

In the meantime, Newt gets to think about how lucky he is. Despite the fact that Y/N’s apparently been crushing on him for just as long as he started liking her, and despite the fact that Frypan proclaims on a daily basis that he’s never seen two shanks more alike, Newt still feels like all of this is just one great coincidence. Maybe it was never supposed to happen, but it did, and he’s going to love that and her for as long as he can.

She’s waiting for him now, he thinks. Work is over for the day, and there’s a Bonfire Night happening this evening too, courtesy of the shivering Greenie fresh out of the Box who still can’t seem to keep his shock from showing. The fool to whom this celebration is owed looks like he’s going to keel over, what from the way he keeps half doing a backbend from continually craning his neck up to stare at the Walls, but the rest of them can get drunk and fuck around and generally have a good time. 

Greenies never appreciate their Bonfire Nights enough anyway. It’s up to the rest of the Gladers to show them what it’s like to have fun. Who knows the next time they’ll be able to stop stressing over the ruins of their lives anyway? Newt’s heard half a dozen Gladers proclaim that they only live bonfire to bonfire anyway. They might as well prove it tonight.

Newt meets Y/N on the outskirts of the bonfire just as the dark starts to fall. Dusk kicks up its heels, keeping watch over the revels and hiding the sun, which can never bear to see whatever mistakes they’re going to make next. Y/N holds out a hand to him, one Newt gladly accepts.

“I can’t believe it’s been six months now since I first showed up,” she grins, gesturing towards the Box with her free hand, “Feels like just yesterday.”

Newt snorts. “Time flies when you’re having fun, huh? Trust me, the Greenie Days get faster and faster. I swear I just finished touring the last kid, and now we’ve got another one to keep pestering us with questions.”

Y/N shakes her head, considering this. “Nah, I think this one will be better. He’s too scared to speak above a whisper. If you try, you can just ignore him.”

Newt chuckles. “I’m not supposed to be bullying the Greenies. Alby says I’m meant to set a good example.”

“I saw Alby telling Minho to trip the new kid to see if he’d finally make a sound if he bit the dirt,” Y/N comments, “I don’t think kindness is really in our books.”

Newt arches a brow. “I could see that happening. Did it work?”

“No,” Y/N says, disappointed, “Kid was so scared to move a muscle that he didn’t fall at all. Just kind of stopped walking like he’d hit a wall instead of Minho’s ankle.”

Newt tries to bite back a smile. He’s only half successful. “Shame. That would have been fun to see.”

Y/N laughs. “That’s what I said. Anyways, they’re all over there, near the fire. I think the next strategy is to give the kid some of Gally’s brew in the hopes that it’ll coax something out of him other than his dinner.”

Newt shudders. “Best of luck to him.”

“And to me,” Y/N replies, “I think I’m going to get a glass of my own. See you in a second.”

Newt waves a casual hand in goodbye, watching as his girlfriend weaves through the steadily forming crowds of Gladers in an attempt to track down a drink. He takes a seat near an overturned log, staring into the fire as it disappears into sparks. Six months since Y/N appeared in the Box, so it’s been indeed.

Newt can’t decide whether that feels like a long time or not nearly long enough. Y/N’s changed him in almost every way, that much is obvious. Sometimes, in meeting someone you know will impact you forever, you almost want them to have been around for much longer. Strangers aren’t meant to become your best friends, not until you’ve known them for years and you have scores of memories to share. You want to give them decades in your mind, centuries, as a sign that they’ve been so important to you. Mere months aren’t enough. Surely it should be more.

It isn’t, and maybe that’s for the best. Newt has no memories save for when he came up his own share of months ago. All his friends are new, all his enemies still more recent. Maybe the girl he loves has only been in his life for a short time, but his recorded life is short indeed. Everything is modern. That’s just how it is.

Newt becomes aware of eyes on him and realizes that he might not be the only one reminiscing about when Y/N came up in the maze. A few Gladers have come up by Newt’s side, steadily appearing out of the gloom and smoke to stare at him.

Newt glances at them questioningly, and a few moments later the bravest of them dares to voice their collective thoughts. “What’s it like dating Y/N?” The boy asks, “you know, since she’s the only girl?”

Newt smiles to himself. “It’s great,” he says.

This clearly isn’t the response the other boy wants. “Yeah,” he repeats, “but what’s it like? It’s not like the rest of us have our own girlfriends to compare it with.”

Newt bites back a laugh. “Well,” he begins, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that the other boys draw closer to him expectantly, “it’s like having a best friend, but even better. She’s someone I can talk to at any time, but I don’t have to worry about seeming uncool or weird around her. Y/N knows exactly who I am, the good and the bad, but she’s chosen to be with me anyway. It makes you feel like you can do anything.”

The boy nods, accepting this. “Are you ever worried that she’s going to get tired of you and leave you for someone else?”

“If you’re asking me if I’m worried about competition,” Newt says slowly, “I’d say, don’t think you even have a chance. She’s my girlfriend, you bloody shank, not some object you can steal away. Anyway, obviously I’d like it if she stayed with me a while longer, but I’m not scared, no. I know that we’re happy, and that’s enough.”

The boy’s face flushes scarlet when Newt calls him out, but he seems to have made his peace with it at the end. Newt’s half expecting more questions, but all of a sudden they scatter to the corners of the celebration. A few moments later, the cause of the disturbance becomes obvious:  Y/N herself takes a seat next to him, glass in hand.

“It seems like you had a score of admirers,” she says, lips twitching up into a smile.

Newt groans. “More like your admirers, trust me. They wanted to ask about what it was like to date you. Not something I thought I’d be discussing with the Slicers-in-training, but why not?”

Y/N laughs. “Oh, I know. I have to say, though, it was very sweet. Being with me makes you feel like you can do anything?”

Newt feels his entire face heat up, and he briefly ponders launching himself into the fire to escape it. “I didn’t realize you were eavesdropping. That’s rude, you know.”

Y/N just grins. “I do apologize. It was very sweet, though. I appreciated it.”

Newt rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep a smile off of his face for long. “Does that mean you won’t leave me for some random boy who showed up a few months ago?”

“I’ll consider it,” she assures him, “like you said, though, I wouldn’t worry much. I happen to like being with you quite a bit as well.”

Newt reaches over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Y/N leans her head on his shoulder, and they stay there for quite some time, watching the embers of the fire curl into ribbons of smoke up in the darkest reaches of the sky. The bonfire dances, their friends shout and clap and laugh all around them, and through it, they keep going. All is well.

tmr tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope, @fadedver

[sovksluv]

Eurydice

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

𖤐 . summary - someone dies basically so yeah

𖤐 . content includes - um major character death !

𖤐 . word count - 493

𖤐 . taglist - @sluttysammyy @delilahandfiction

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work! THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT ! ASKS/REQS WELCOME

[when-worlds-end-archive]

Get Your Hands Off My Girlfriend

A/N - New fandom! New fandom alert! Time to write for one of my favorite TMR characters, the fluffy little newty boy! So very very excited, especially since I haven’t taken part in this fandom in a while! Let’s jump right in the chaos! Enjoy! :)

Day 15 of Writer’s Block Challenge

Pairing(s) : Newt x Female!Reader

Summary : The newest green bean hits on you, not realizing that you already have a boyfriend, the glade’s second in command, Newt.

Warning(s) : Male persistence/harassment, a couple swear words.

Word Count : 797

“Go on a date with me.”

Ever since the newest green bean had arrived in the glade, he’d been after you. Ever breakfast, every lunch, every dinner, even in between, it was always the same question. If he were asking anyone else, they would have been annoyed. You however, didn’t care that much, you were very good at blocking people out. It was something you’d gotten used to, being the only girl.

“I’ll pass,” you respond, the same answer you’d given him every time.

“Just one date,” he tries again, “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

You highly doubted that. Anyone that persistent normally couldn’t keep any of the promises they made, they just made them so that people would say yes. You weren't going to.

“No means no, Greenie,” Newt pipes up from across the table, pausing from his food to tell the newbie off.

“Let the lady speak for herself,” the boy fired back.

“Like I said before,” you took a bite out of your sandwich, “I’ll pass.”

As you chewed on your food, you could see the cogs in his mind turning, trying and failing to understand why your response was the one that it was. People like him just couldn't take no for an answer.

“You’re just saying that because Newt and Minho are here. I’ll be back to ask you again later,” with that, he finally leaves, allowing you to peacefully finish your meal.

“I truly don't understand how you’re able to tolerate it,” Minho wonders in amazement.

“Lots of practice, Minho. Lots and lots of practice.”

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

“I want to tell him off,” Newt stated when you were laying in the grass far away from the rest of the graders, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you.

“We’re not supposed to be dating,” you remind him of the rule Alby had set, one to keep the peace amongst all the boys.

“Fuck that rule,” he mutters, shoving his nose into your hair, “it’s a stupid rule.”

You couldn’t deny that statement so you lean up to kiss him instead, your senses immediately sharpening as you feel every sensation; the early summer breeze blowing past you, the grass brushing your legs, the beating of his heart beneath your hand.

“Just do your best,” you say when the kiss finally ends, “neither of us want to be scolded by the man in the charge.”

“Fair enough.”

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

It as during a meeting that he asked you again, sliding in beside you, bumping Thomas out of the way. He truly had the worst timing, talking to you when you were focusing on other things, other tasks.

“Go out with me?”

“No.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“No.”

“Why are you playing so hard to get?”

“Why are you talking to me when Alby is making an important announcement?”

Surprising even to you, your patience was beginning to wear thin. Normally you could hold up a lot longer against the advances of the newest green bean but there was something about this boy that ticked you off. Maybe it was the consistency at which he asked you, maybe it was the timing of when he asked you, maybe it was the way he asked you, you truly didn’t know. You just knew that it bugged you.

Wanting to get away from him, you silently begin making your way over to Gally, knowing he’d protect you from the unwanted advances. You didn’t get far however when the boy’s hand wrapped around your wrist, keeping you rooted in place.

“Release me,” you grit out.

“Not until you say yes,” he responds, looking at you expectantly. He fucking expected you to say yes.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend,” a voice rang out. Newt.

At this point, the meeting had been put on pause, everyone’s eyes and ears on you as Newt stalked over, a murderous look in his eyes. It had been a very long time since you’d seen this look.

“What?” The boy stammered out, “girlfriend?”

“Are you deaf as well as dumb?” Newt asked, coming to stand beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist protectively.

“I, I,” the poor guy didn’t seem to know what to say.

“I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but if you ever touch her again, I will shove you into the maze myself.” Everyone in the room knew Newt wasn’t kidding, he never made threats unless he absolutely meant them.

“Yes sir,” he turned and fled to the other side of the room, much like a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs.

“With that out of the way, let’s resume out meeting,” Alby called out as you kissed Newt’s cheek in thanks, “and Newt?”

“Yes?”

“You both are in trouble.”

[justanobsessedfangirl]

A Mission - The Maze Runner Imagine

Request from Anonymous: i loved ur 'how you meet' preferences!! could you write a griever slaying fem reader? i know this sounds wack but hear me out she comes straight out the box running for the hills and instead of stopping when they tell her not to go in there she runs straight in. minho or one of the other runners find her killing a griever and theyre like what the FUCK and he drags her back to the glade like why is there a girl here why was she killing a griever and everyone is like what the FUCK just everyone being confused and bewildered at the first girl in the glade being batshit crazy

Author's Note: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!

Word Count: 2.2k

I have a mission.

It's the first thing you remember when you wake up in this cramped box, and for a while, it's the only thing you can think.

I have a mission.

The details come to you in fragments. You know you'll have to run. You're ready for that, pacing around the rising room to keep your muscles warm.

I have a mission.

There's going to be danger, that you're sure of. The scars on your body that you have no memory of getting make you wonder if this isn't the first time you've had a mission like this. There's a long one that snakes along your calf, like someone wrapped a curl of barbed wire around your leg. Your hands are littered with tiny, long-healed cuts. When you flex your fingers, you feel strong. Hardened.

I have a mission.

The room shudders to a stop. The far half of the ceiling opens up and daylight pours in. You sink further into the shadows. The light stings your eyes, and the gentle hum of the ascent has been replaced by clamoring voices and the sound of constant movement. The box shakes with the thud of someone landing inside.

I have a mission.

You dart across the room, hearing the voices change to shock and confusion, and leap for the wall. Your fingers just barely grip the top. Your feet scrabble for purchase on the slick surface, but you're determined, you're quick, you're strong, and this is your mission so you must succeed.

You haul yourself out of the box. A mob of teenage boys stands in front of you, all around you, some laughing, some glaring, many simply confused. You run at them and they scramble away. For a strange, detached moment, you feel like a queen walking to her throne, the lords parting before her in deference, cheering.

There is no cheering as you sprint across the grass.

"He's making a run for it!" someone says, cackling.

"I think that was a girl," comes a different voice.

You run faster. Your eyes have adjusted to the brightness and you can see the blue sky, the grassy ground, and the hulking stone walls boxing you in.

Escape one box and run right into another, you think, and then, I have a mission.

There are a few breaks in the walls, massive doorways leading into a mystery. You're heading for the closest one. Behind you, there are loud footfalls and cries for you to "Stop! Don't go in there!" It sounds like someone tells you to "Stop being such a shank," but his words are choppy, confusing, and all you want is to complete your mission.

The entrance is so close, just a few more seconds of all-out sprinting, when you feel the heavy presence of someone behind you. Someone who wants to grab you. Who wants to stop you.

Without planning to, you come to a dead stop and drop into a crouch. The person behind you was too close, they can't stop soon enough, their shin collides with your back as they trip over you and slam to the ground in front of you.

You're back running before you can take a close look at him. Every muscle in your body is moving with instructions you haven't given, implementing lessons you don't remember teaching. Your surroundings are entirely new, entirely foreign—and yet, there's an uncanniness to everything you see. The colors and the season and the people are wrong. But the bones of this place, those are familiar. Especially, you realize as you enter the gap between the walls, the maze.

For the first time, your steps falter. The walls are gray stone and decked in ivy. That's wrong. They should be…they should be…

You want to shiver, the memory flees, all you know is the mission.

You sprint and take a left at the four-way intersection. All of the voices have faded. No one seems to be coming after you as you make your way down corridors, following a path that's branded like fire in your mind.

Straight. Right. Right. Left. Straight. Left. Right. Right. Straight. Straight. Straight. Left.

Here.

Here is a dead end. The walls are so thick with ivy you can barely see the stones. The air is still as a graveyard. You stand, panting, trying to remember what comes next.

From atop the wall, there's a clicking noise. You look up.

The creature is hideous, all mechanical limbs and throbbing, human-like skin. You half-expect giant wings to unfurl from its back (why? The memory slips away like a shadow) but instead it starts climbing down the ivy, whirling and clicking. Razor-sharp barbs glint along its body. Its mouth, a maw of metal, gnashes hungrily.

You remember what you have to do.

The boys find you faster than you thought they would. You hear them round the corner as the monster shrieks its death knell. Its mechanical body curls in like the husk of a bug. Blood drips down your arm, getting on the wires that droop from the metal disk you're holding. It's still warm from the creature's chest cavity, where it had been nestled like a heart. The disk is pockmarked with flashing dots of light. They blink at you a few times, the pause between each growing longer, and then they wink out. The creature at your feet, speared by its own jagged limb, falls silent.

"What the fuck."

The boy isn't asking, you realize as you turn around, the metal disk slipping from between your blood-slicked fingers. He has dark hair and dark eyes and an athlete's build, all lean muscle and confidence. His gaze darts from you to the monster, then back to the monster.

He's flanked by two others, one with shaggy brown hair and freckles who looks to him in deference, and the other, dark-skinned and serious, who steps forward, side-by-side with the speaker.

"Minho," commands the dark-skinned boy, "check that the Griever's really dead."

The boy who spoke first nods and starts toward you, trepidatious at first, then more sure as sees the monster (the Griever?) more clearly. "Definitely looks dead," he says. "I don't know how she's not."

Their stares feel like drills boring into your skin. Your back aches, hot with blood, and the muscles in your legs are tightening up. Your mission is done, you should feel happy, but you're still here in this strange, wrong, too-familiar place, and the adrenaline that had been fueling you is fading. You want to go home. You want your sleeping bag, covered in a blanket of fur and nestled in the—the—Gone. The memory is gone.

I had a mission, you think. And then you say it out loud, testing the words on your tongue, "I had a mission."

The boy closest to you, the one who'd been called Minho, stares at you like you've grown a second head. "You're jacked," he says with a breathy, perplexed chuckle.

The insult is on your lips before you can remember where it comes from: "Crackhead."

Minho lets out a booming laugh, then turns to the other boys. "Can we keep her, Alby?"

The serious boy, Alby, frowns deeper. "We need to hold a Gathering. Thomas, go tell Newt. We'll be right there."

The third boy, the one with brown hair and freckles, nods warily. He takes one last look at you and sprints back the way he came. You watch him go, ignoring the boys he left behind until you hear a clatter of metal.

Your body jerks into action, spinning around and putting your hands up, ready to fight the Griever again if you have to. But it was just Minho kicking the creature's body, poking and prodding at its innards.

"What's your name?" Alby asks from behind you.

You turn and back up a few steps so you can keep both boys in your field of vision. Minho is crouched over the Griever. Alby is staring at you, his gaze heavy, solemn. Distrustful. 

"Y/N," you tell him.

Minho pries the Griever's jaw open. His voice echoes off the metal tunnel of the Griever's throat as he asks, "How'd you avoid getting stung?"

Before you can answer, Alby cuts in, voice sharp and angry. "Where did you come from? What do you mean mission?"

Your body aches. You don't want to be here, standing over a mutated, cybernetic monster, being questioned by strangers. "I don't know. I can't remember anything."

"You remembered more than we did," Alby fires back.

Minho straightens up. "Let's get her back to the Glade, Alby. She can answer at the Gathering."

You hate their lingo, want to spit on all of the slang you don't understand because you know the words that should be there instead (it's not called the Glade, it's called the…) but you can't find the words, so you jog with them through the maze, following Minho, Alby a few paces behind you. They have you locked in. There's an urge to break away from them at one of the intersections. You could push Minho into the wall and sprint past him, only where would you go? 

"What is this place?" you ask as you run.

Minho glances back at you. He looks apprehensive, but there's a curious glint in his eyes. "We're in the Maze. Although, you really shouldn't be in here, Greenie." Looking forward again, he speaks in a louder voice, "Clearly you're a rule-breaker."

You still kind of want to push him.

As you get closer to the "Glade," you hear the murmur of voices. It gets louder and louder, until you can see the door at the end of the corridor and, beyond it, a swarm of boys. Somehow, they get even more raucous as you get closer. Their shouts blur together, meaningless words and sounds filling the air. They clamber into each other, everyone wanting to get closer, no one willing to step into the Maze.

"Out of the way, shanks!" Minho yells.

Boys push and pull, slinging insults and questions, and somehow the mass of chaos becomes two distinct groups, one on each side of you.

Minho leads you across the grass to a rustic building. It's practical and sturdy, all of the effort put towards making a building that won't fall, none left to make it inviting. Inside is quieter. For a second, you're grateful because the blood rushing in your ears and the pain singing across your body is enough noise. But as you follow Minho into another room, the air grows thick and tense. Every breath feels like you could choke on it.

Eleven boys sit in a semicircle, two empty seats amid the line. In the middle of the room is a single empty chair.

Your stomach sinks. Your feet pulse with pain.

Alby enters behind you, jerking his chin at the chair in the center. "That's yours." He watches and waits until you slowly walk to the chair and sink into it.

Your skin feels hot. You're acutely aware of the blood on your clothes, the sweat on your body. You feel like a science experiment, everyone examining you, anticipating your reactions so they can write them down, dissect them, find the answers they want. Mouth dry, you swallow and wait.

Alby and Minho take their seats, Minho beside the third boy from the Maze, the one Alby called Thomas.

"Who—"

"Why—" 

"She's a—" 

"We can't trust—"

"She killed a Griever." Alby's voice rises above the rest, the stern tone of a leader.

The other boys erupt into more questions. They bounce off the walls. You don't know who to look at, gaze darting from boy to boy until you land on the blond next to Alby. He's one of the few that isn't speaking, his brown eyes boring into yours. You don't know if he sees fatigue, fear, or anger on your face, but he gives a slight nod, almost to himself, and holds up a hand.

"Slim it!"

The others get out a few more unanswered questions before falling silent.

"What do you remember?" the blond asks, his words tinged with a familiar accent. You can't place where you've heard it, who you've heard it from, but you remember that she had blonde hair too, and…The thought fades away.

"I know I had a mission," you say. It's as simple as that, but the boys stare at you like you're speaking another language.

"What does that even—"

"Who gave you—" 

"Where the fuck did you come from?"

The blond again holds his hand up against the barrage of questions. 

The large boy to your left who spoke last scoffs and protests, "Let us ask, Newt. I know how we can get some answers."

Biting your tongue to keep more insults, origins unknown, from bursting out, you add the name to your memory, filing it with the others. The boy with the accent is Newt. The leader is Alby. You followed Minho through the Maze. And the third boy from the Maze who sits beside Minho, eyebrows furrowed together, his name is—

Thomas stands up. He looks far away, his eyes distant and unfocused. The room slowly quiets down.

"What is it, mate?" Newt asks.

Thomas doesn't look at him. For a few seconds, he just stares at the wall. Then his eyes snap to you. "She shouldn't be here."

The large boy grins, a harsh, twisted thing. "The Greenie's growing a brain."

Thomas doesn't react. Your eyes are locked with his, your breath stuck in your chest. Should you stop him? Should you beg him to continue? You don't have time to do either. Thomas stares at you and speaks.

"She's from Group B."

[talesofesther]

Embers and stars

Newt x Reader

Summary: On a peaceful night, Newt finally has time to think about his growing feelings for you.

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, and to the few anons who said they'd like to see a story with this cutie. Also, this is mainly to try and put my brain back in the writing game, with my favorite boy. I doubt many people are gonna read this, but I post all my stories here so…

And yes, Newt made it to Safe Haven; don’t look at me like that.

Masterlist

The sand was warm as you buried your toes in it, breathing in deeply the salty air of the ocean just ahead of you. Waves brought the water closer to your feet, it was pleasantly cold compared to the warmth of the setting sun.

You opened your eyes to the view of the orange sun touching the end of the sea far away, painting the sky in deep shades of orange, purple, and blue. There were voices behind you, people chatting happily for once. You glanced around with a smile, seeing your Glader friends and everyone else that made it to the Safe Haven.

A few trees adorned the main area along with grassy ground just after the thin strip of sand, some of the tents were still being built but most were already up; held by large pieces of wood and big enough to accommodate everyone.

It's been only a few days, and there are countless adjustments yet to be made and problems to solve. But they were futile, small compared to the hell you all just escaped from.

Everyone needed time to relax, so tonight, Frypan and Minho decided to bring back the bonfire night.

Thomas walked out of the forest with pieces of wood in his hands. You giggled at the way he struggled to carry them, groaning dramatically when he dropped two of the pieces.

With a last glance towards the vast ocean, you made your way up to him, feeling your already tired muscles complain about having to walk in the fluffy sand. As you reached the grass, you put your slippers back on and called out to Thomas; "Need a hand?"

Thomas glanced up to you from his crouched position, in the middle of trying to pick up the fallen wood. "Yeah, that would be great. Thank you."

You split the pieces of wood between both of you, carrying it with much more ease towards the middle of the big camp, where the bonfire would take place. Slowly, the place started to look more like home. In some ways, it reminded you of the Glade.

The box had brought you up one month before Chuck arrived, and your life had been a rollercoaster ever since. From living two months in the Glade and then diving into nothing short of an adventure in the outside world, it felt nostalgic to finally have something similar to what you called home back in the maze.

With a grunt, you let go of the heavy pieces of wood. Seagulls could be heard singing in the distance, along with a soft cold breeze that started flowing from the ocean.

"All good here?" Minho had run up to you and Thomas, seemingly done with his scouting around the beach. Almost everyone had found something to do by now, you were still helping around randomly wherever it was needed.

"Yeah, I think that's all," Thomas told him, looking down at the wood you had just dumped on the sand.

"Great, we can start the fire then," Minho said excitedly, walking back towards the main tent.

As Minho ran out of view, Thomas nudged you on the shoulder. You looked his way curiously, and he had a teasing grin on his face. "You caught someone's attention."

You raised an eyebrow at him, following his gaze towards your right side. Your eyes found Newt, who was watching you from afar, with a forgotten tomato seedling in his hand. The tender smile that came to you was inevitable, the way his blond hair fell softly over his eyes with the wind; the way the last rays of sun painted his cheeks pink, and how he quickly looked away as you caught him staring, pretending to pay undivided attention to the new garden; it all made your stomach flutter pleasantly.

Newt had sneaked his way into your heart from day one. With him being the sweetest, most caring, and respectful amongst everyone on the Glade; you became friends fast.

You felt warmth coming to your cheeks, throwing a last glance towards him before walking back to the tents with Thomas, who started teasing you relentlessly.

"-Hearing me? Newt? Newt!"

With a start, Newt looked up quickly, shaking his head lightly to clear his mind. He saw Frypan watching him already with a knowing smirk. Newt got up from the ground, cleaning his hands on his pants. "Don't even start." He grumbled under his breath.

"I'm just here to pick up some oregano." The playful tone betrayed Frypan's words.

Newt huffed out a nervous breath, shooting a side glance towards the same direction you walked to.

Frypan caught up on his staring. "Why won't you just talk to her?"

"There's nothing to talk about." Averting his gaze, Newt walked past his friend and towards his own tent.

"You're wasting time, she likes you too, you know," Frypan called out to Newt, who didn't bother to stop walking.

___

As the night came along fully, allowing countless stars to adorn the sky and the embers of the bonfire to shine bright; Frypan's words ringed inside Newt's head. He was sitting down on one of the benches that were placed under the main tent, his gaze fixed ahead of him on the bonfire; or more specifically, on you.

He twirled a half-full cup of Gally's drink in his hands, watching as you laughed along with his friends, your skin being illuminated by the fire.

The feelings he had for you had been brewing for a long time, almost as long as he had known you. It came naturally to him, being with you was easy and it warmed his chest like nothing else could, even if a familiar anxiousness always came with it. What was not easy, was acting on it. Newt never had any relationships, or if he did, he doesn't remember. It angered him that he didn't know how to deal with everything you made him feel.

And to think that there was a possibility you might feel the same; made his heart do somersaults.

He had been so lost inside his own worries that he didn't register someone coming towards him, only catching on when a shoulder was pressed to his.

You sat down beside Newt with a smile, not bothering to leave any distance between you. "Why are you out here isolating yourself?"

Your cheeky grin brought a blush to Newt's cheeks, and the way your body was touching his gave him goosebumps. "I'm not isolating, it's just a little more peaceful here."

The faint glow of the fire reflected on Newt's eyes, you could get lost in his warm gaze and the way he smiled at you.

"You're not wrong." Your words were quiet as you looked ahead of you, taking in the dark night sky and the orange glow of the bonfire.

Newt felt his mouth go dry, his finger tapped his cup anxiously before he set it down on the table. "Do you want to um- maybe take a walk along the beach?" He averted his gaze as he asked, hoping you didn't notice the pitch of his voice.

He could feel your gaze on him but there was no answer yet. Before he could ask again, or say it was no big deal if you didn't feel like it; he felt the warmest of touches involve his hand, his breath getting caught up in his throat as you intertwined your fingers with his.

"I'd love to."

You didn't let go of his hand as you silently walked along the coast side. This time of night, you couldn't even see the ocean, only hear the waves crashing. The chatter and partying of your friends were nothing but a background noise now.

"A part of me thought we'd never be able to make it here." You confessed with a quiet voice, feeling the cold wind on your skin.

Newt squeezed your hand, still feeling elated that you chose to hold on to him. "I know, sometimes it still feels like a dream."

There was a pause, and then your feet stopped moving as you felt Newt had stopped walking. You looked back at him with gentle curiosity, your outstretched hands still together. The moonlight illuminated his eyes and you saw hesitance in them.

You walked up to him, standing close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. "What's wrong?"

He averted his gaze, looking down at your joined hands as he played with your fingers. "I wanted to- I need to tell you something."

His accent caught heavily onto his words, letting you know he was forcing them out. Without thinking much, you brought your free hand up. Your fingertips ghosted over his cheek before running through his hair, burying your touch on his messy blond strands from the wind.

Newt visibly gulped at your action, he squeezed your hand more forcibly to ground himself. Yet, he leaned into your touch, almost closing his eyes.

"You can tell me anything." You promised.

He licked his lips, taking one last deep breath; and as he felt the salty water hit his shoes, he spoke what his heart had been screaming for a long time. "I have feelings for you, and I'm not sure how else to tell you this."

His gaze moved over your face for a moment, but he couldn't read it. He cleared his throat. "I have for a while and, it's alright if you don't feel the same. I just had to say it becau-"

A hand on the back of his neck pulling him forward cut him off. With an exhale of surprise, Newt felt your lips on his.

As fast as you kissed him, you pulled back. Your nose brushed his as you looked at him with a dazed stare. "I do feel the same." You breathed out, not being able to form any better words.

Newt pulled you back to him instantly, both his hands coming around your waist and flushing your bodies together. He melted against you, feeling the way you threaded your fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck.

And you kissed him back with just as much passion, wrapping him up in an embrace that would hopefully let him know for how long you'd wanted this as well.

Far away, you thought you heard the voices of your friends laughing and shouting comments at you both. It made you smile into the kiss and you felt the way Newt's lips turned up as well.

If this was a dream, you'd be fine with never waking up.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

[w1shes43]

Forbidden Proximity

- (TMR) Newt x reader

Summary: Takes place in "The Fever Code", before an examination test, you meet the beloved Newt. After meeting him, things start to be different and someone warned you to watch your proximity. But you think you're doing just the opposite.

Taglist: @heliads

A/N: AHHH, IT'S FINALLY FINISHED!! This fic took me so long. Motivation came and left like 1000 times. Sorry about that, and here it is!! Also, let's just imagine that newt is not like a minor here and is his movie age ;_; The ending is a bit rushed as I just wanted to get this fic finished tbh.

----☆----

Wake up, examinations and tests, eat food, maybe add a hint of some learning and then sleep. And it's repeating the same routine every day, over and over again. It's been like this for you ever since you got taken in this facility called W.I.C.K.E.D. They're not so harsh towards you but you saw and heard from others of what they can be like when they're angry so you usually do what you're told to be on their good side.

But life in this facility is very repetitive and dull so you always opt to do something fun once in a while, being extremely discreet of course. Whether it's going to see your friends in their rooms during night or sneaking to catch a look at the other group, Group A. You have to admit you don't know why you all have to be separated into different groups, maybe they don't want certain people interacting with each other? You found the question lingering in your mind for a while, so you plan to ask at your next examination, which is tomorrow, that very question.

You sat on your bed, waiting in your room for Dr. Paige to do some tests on you, observing around your room trying to pass time. You always seem to land on the clock. Time ticking like usual, you wondered how the clock can be so perfectly timed to the real time, but then again just another question to add to your pile.

"Questions and questions" you sighed, looking down at your feet, swinging them back and forth. You realised you were getting taller which makes you glad because Harriet used to tease you about your height, saying how you won't be able to reach anything. Guess you could prove her wrong now, you slightly chuckled at that.

The door opens and you look up thinking you were going to see Dr. Paige but instead a tall lady with round glasses. She had a firm look on her face as she approached you,

"Y/N, Dr. Paige is quite busy for a while so she won't be able to do your test right now."

She stated, looking at her clipboard which had some files on it, "She will do your examination in about half an hour. Please come with me to another test room."

You nodded as you got up from the bed to follow her out the door. She shut the door and you walked beside her as she brought you to the elevator and pressed a few buttons, you waited for about a minute and the doors opened to the 2nd floor. She ushered you to walk beside her as you looked around the 2nd floor, you've only been here once before and that was the first time you got examined.

You followed her into the first room on your right, and she told you to sit down and that she would inform you when Dr. Paige was here. As she left, you looked around the room and noticed that there was a blonde haired boy on the other side of the room, he had his head in his hands and he seemed to be the same age as you. You assumed both of you were here for tests.

You walked over to him and sat down on the empty chair beside him, the sound of the chair made him look up and he met your eyes.

"Oh hello there." The blonde smiled, you noticed he sounded a bit different, he definitely had an accent, not that you minded though it sounded nice. "You here for an examination too?"

You nodded and smiled back, "Yeah I am, how long have you been waiting here?" You asked, curious to talk to this boy.

"Probably been waiting for about 10 minutes?" He said, stretching his arms "I'm not really counting the time to be honest with ya, just waiting for this to be done and over with. So I can go and hang with my mates."

You raised an eyebrow, "Mates? What do you mean by that?"

"I mean my friends," he laughed, but then leaned in to whisper "We all usually hang out after our tests, obviously wicked doesn't know that, so keep it a secret for me and you could join us too." The blonde boy winked as he whispered the last part.

You chuckled, a corner of your lips developing a small smile. "Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me. And I didn't catch your name?"

"Name's Newt, pleased to meet you.. ?"

His sentence trailing off at the end in hopes of getting your name.

But before you could answer his last statement, the door swung open and you were greeted by two people, Dr. Paige and the other lady from earlier. They looked at the both of you and nodded to you, Dr. Paige calling your name as she was about to take your examination.

You nodded back to her and stood up from your chair, turning to Newt before you approached them, "Y/N. Pleased to meet you too." You smiled and waved at him as you followed behind Dr. Paige.

Your walk back to your room was silent, you usually would talk to Dr. Paige about a lot of things, how you were doing with learning and food or something along the lines of vital sign check ups. But this time you were silent, smiling to yourself as you thought about your encounter with the blonde boy, Newt was his name. Well not his actual name, as you knew they gave everyone different names but you thought it suited him, it was an oddly interesting name. To be honest you thought he was pretty cute too, you haven't talked to a boy your age since forever, before you even came to this place.

Smiling away to yourself must have caught Dr. Paige's attention as she talked to you as you both turned the hallway, heading to your room.

"Something on your mind Y/N? You look rather happy there." She spoke as she opened the door to your room, holding the door open so you could walk inside.

As you entered the room you sat on your bed, nodding to Dr. Paige's last statement.

She took a seat in front of you and got ready the equipment for your tests.

"Yeah I would say so, although I have a weird feeling in my stomach when I think about this certain … thing." You admitted, looking down at your feet and watching them swing back and forth again.

"Weird feeling in your stomach about a certain topic you say? Is this very recent or has this been happening for a while?" As she questioned you, she got ready the syringe for your injection and you took that as a sign to roll up your sleeve on your left arm.

"Quite recent. Actually right before you came to the room on the second floor."

She stopped and gave you a look.

"It's about Newt isn't it? That boy you met there?" She asked and her thoughts were confirmed when you looked at her and nodded. She sighed, "Y/N, that weird feeling you are talking about is called attraction or well starting out as a liking. We are specifically trying to prevent this though, it might interfere with your progress in tests. So please try not to think about him or even try to see him for that matter."

Dr. Paige had this firm look on her face, the one you heard about when Wicked employees got angry, you definitely didn't want to aggravate her even more but you still had to ask one more question, a very risky one considering the topic of the conversation.

"Dr. Paige, why do we have different groups, like why do you have to separate all of us?"

You looked at her eager for her answer as it could explain things. But she just pinched the bridge of her nose as she let out an annoyed sigh and with a sharp tone dodged your question.

"Y/N, enough questions. Remember you are here for one reason and that's to save the world. Everything we do is for your own good, be grateful you are even alive after what's going on out there." She snapped and looked you dead in the eyes.

Your eyes widened, you were stunned, Dr. Paige never raised her voice at you before. What was so wrong about the question you asked? You just wanted to understand their ways of running things, surely that's not a bad question but you assumed it was since she yelled at you.

She swiftly injected the needle into your arm, taking a blood sample for your test. And quickly put it into a plastic bag and sealed it inside another bag.

She turned around and headed for the door,

"I'll have some food delivered to your room so no need to go to the cafeteria for lunch. Remember Y/N, you're here to save the world, not question how things are."

And without another spoken word, she left and closed the door to your room.

You just stared at the closed door, pondering on what she said. You've always heard those words before 'Save the world.' How though? And wouldn't it be easier to save the world if we understood what's going on inside and outside? You scrunch your hair in annoyance and lay your head in your hands and thought for a bit.

You know what?

You were going to see Newt again.

But you have to think of a discreet way to meet up with him. How in the world are you even going to find him?

You could try and go back to that waiting room you were in earlier but chances are he's already gone and done his examination.

You usually catch a look at Group A, but that's through the vents and you don't really know your way around there as well as Harriet or someone else in your group.

As you try to think of ways to find him, your thoughts are interrupted when someone knocks on your door, it opens and it is one of your great friends, Harriet. You both smile and run for a hug, "How did your examination go?" Harriet asked, pulling away from the hug.

"I don't know what to think, I just hope I haven't angered Dr. Paige. But before the examination I was in a room and there was a boy there." You explained the whole thing, from meeting the boy Newt and to asking Dr. Paige about the 2 groups.

And this conversation led to Harriet coming up with a plan to sneak you into one of Group A's testing rooms in hopes of finding and meeting someone from the other group, or even better Newt.

She would start off by going to get some "lunch" and while doing that she would distract the guards so you could sneak into Group A's testing rooms. But you had to watch out for other employees that might leave the rooms and also cameras. But you would check every room and see if Newt is there.

Hiding behind corners and dodging employees wasn't easy, you were suprised that you even got this far. You looked around, no one. The employees may have taken a break or something, not that you minded, it made this a whole lot easier for you, less hiding.

...

"Well, hello there." A voice from behind you spoke. You jumped at the sudden sound, swiftly turning to see who had spoken and you had hoped that it wasn't Dr. Paige or any of the employees for that matter.

To your suprise, you were met with honey brown eyes, the same eyes of the boy you were looking for. At least you didn't have to look too far to find him.

"I thought I'd see you again, just didn't expect it to be so soon?" He raised a brow, inspecting you. But before he could ask any further questions, you pulled him into a nearby room.

"Okay before you ask anything, I need to make sure this room is safe before we get caught being somewhere we're not supposed to be." You explained, closing the door quickly and glancing around the room.

"Technically, you're not supposed to be here, but here we are." He smirked while you just rolled your eyes, he continued, "I mean, I'm not complaining and I think this room will be perfectly safe, considering that it's my room." He chuckled, and when you turned around with wide eyes, he just smiled.

"Well," you started, "I thought about your offer to join you and your friends and I gladly will." You smiled softly, but your smile grew even wider when you saw how the boy in front of you had a slight red face with another smile.

"You did all that effort to tell me this? You seem very dedicated Y/N."

Oh, you have no idea, you thought.

You spent what felt like hours with him, laughing along and chatting about anything under the sun. Even hearing a bit of his past but you didn't want to pry too much into it.

Your first meeting with Group A went quite well you would think, you quickly made friends with most them of them and even if Gally and Minho were quite skeptical of you at first, they warmed up to you eventually and even shared a couple of their jokes with you.

But as quickly as you made friends with them, the quicker your relationship with Newt grew to be stronger and you had hoped, he felt the same as you. Days turn into weeks and your time spent with him made your whole life better even if you weren't supposed to be of close proximity to him.

But as good things come, they always have to go. You found yourself running through the long bright lit corridors of the wicked facility.

Hoping to get there in time.

Hoping to get that one last chance.

Hoping you weren't too late.

With tear filled eyes, you start remembering the one memory you hoped would never leave you - Newt's confession.

One day, he pulled you aside when you were about to sneak out to go see all your friends.

He softly took your hands and placed them in his own.

"Um.. I don't know if you felt the same, but it did take me a while to realise it wasn't just some weird feeling I had about you, you made me feel like I could trust you, I felt..."

He scrunched his eyes in search of the right words to tell you, "Comfortable around you and safe, mainly safe. My point being, I like you. A lot, in fact, I can't really fathom why my brain works that way, but I hope you understand what I mean." His hope filled eyes begged you, not moving his worried scene that danced around his face.

You thought it was adorable and were quick to calm his worrying thoughts.

"Yes, I understand what you mean," you said with a laugh. "I feel the same way Newt."

How did wicked find out? But then again, they always are monitoring you. They always find out, or maybe they always knew.

Maybe you should have seen this coming.

But nothing always goes your way, you were aware of the Maze, they started sending your friends into one, a few weeks ago.

You were quickly made aware by some of your friends that they were going to send Newt into one. And not at the usual time he was supposed to go in. He was supposed to go a few weeks after.

You ran to the one place you knew you would find him before it would be too late. The hideout.

When you entered, you found him pacing around the room. He heard your footsteps and looked up and locked his dark eyes with you.

Just by looking at him, without even saying anything, you knew what he was thinking, and you wanted to save him from all this.

"Don't leave, why can't you just stay here?" You pleaded with him, grabbing his hands to curl them up into yours. "We could leave, run away right now, or even -"

He pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you like you're his source of life. You went silent and returned the hug. It was quiet for a good while, and you felt as if the white noise could swallow you both whole until Newt spoke.

"I want you to know that even if I die, or something happens and I might never see you again," his breath hitched in his throat, eyes dreading even the thought of it, "Nothing would ever make me forget you. I would go to the ends of the earth just to do this all over again if it meant being by your side, being here with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Tears that have flowed down his cheeks have now dripped onto the cold floor. The same room, same building that you first met, the sweet hearted boy. Even if you didn't know what would happen next, you knew for certain you loved him.

You knew you were never meant to be near him in the first place, but you did just the opposite.

"I'll love you forever and always."

He wiped the oncoming tears from your eyes with his thumb and smiled. You wish you could just capture this moment and stay with him forever.

The doors opened, and your warm hands quickly became cold as the warmth from him slowly drifted away from you.

[1-800-teax]

Lost

Newt x reader

Angst (sorry in advance)

-+-

"Come on, Newt! Hold on!" I shout as I feel him slipping as Thomas and I desperately try to make it to the serum.

"We're almost there! Just stay with me! Stay with me Newt!" Thomas also pleads.

I cry out as I connect with the floor, Newt's body taking me down with him as he falls to the ground.

I quickly recover, kneeling next to Newt who is choking on the black liquid making its way out of his mouth.

Thomas shakes him while I try to turn him on his side.

Thomas stops me and checks his heart.

"Alright! You grab his feet!”He says moving quickly to grab his upper body.

I'm just as fast as I grip onto his legs tightly.

My muscles are screaming in protest as Thomas and I lift up Newt's heavy body and attempt to carry him.

Thomas and I grunt and groan as we try our hardest to carry him but our bodies are to tired and worn out as we fall to the ground with him.

A frustrated, desperate whine escapes my lips.

"Thomas?" We both pause and look up.

Teresa's voice can be heard loudly over all the chaos happening in the background.

Thomas continues to listen to what Teresa is saying but I could care less.

I return my focus back on Newt as my emotions catch up to me.

I try to swallow back my tears but some strays manage to fall down my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry." I whispers in his ear as one of my hands feel for his heartbeat and the other brushes away his hair from his forehead.

Newt's eyes switch from glazed over to normal which is a sign that he is fighting the infection.

"You cured her.", was all it took for me to tune back into what Teresa is saying.

My focus shoots off of Newt and up to Thomas.

"She doesn't have to be the only one." As she says these words, Thomas exhales a shaky breath.

"All you have to do is come back...come back to me."

I roll my eyes at her words and was about to say something to Thomas when I feel Newt's heartbeat pick up under my hand.

I snap my eyes back on him to see him sitting up right, staring at me with his glazed eyes.

I jump back onto my hands in fear.

"Newt..." I say cautiously, brokenly.

The lights flicker before the two front lights turn on and Newt stands up.

"Newt?" Thomas calls out when he turns around, startled.

He peeks down at me for a second, but quickly returning back to Newt.

I stumble up to my feet and stand next to Thomas.

Newt turns around, but he isn't the Newt I know.

"Newt?" Thomas calls out brokenly.

Newt releases a guttural growl before lunging at Thomas at I, but before he could touch me, Thomas shoved me out to the way which has me diving into the ground.

I whip around quickly to see Newt and Thomas rolling on the floor.

"Tommy, kill me!" He says kneeling down.

My heart breaks hearing those words.

"Newt, I'm here!" Thomas tried to say before Newt lungs at him yet again.

I jump up and wrap my arms around Newts torso trying my hardest to pull him off of Thomas.

"Newt! Newt stop!" I scream.

"Newt, please!" Thomas cried out.

"Please!" We both cry at the same time.

Newt snaps out of his trance, but we both don't let go.

Newt breaths heavily, "I'm sorry, Tommy." He says before turning to me and saying, "I-I'm sorry, Y/n."

"It's okay, it's okay." We both breath out.

The moment doesn't last long before Newt's breathing picks up and he reaches down for something.

He pulls it up to his head and I notice it's a gun.

Both Thomas and I cry out a "No."

I step back and kick it out of his hand as Thomas slaps it away.

Newt lets out another guttural scream as he pounces on Thomas again.

Thomas pushes Newt off of himself.

I watch as Newt pulls a knife from his pants and pounces on Thomas once again.

"No!" I shout reaching out once again to pull Newt off of Thomas.

Both Newt and Thomas scream out as Newt shoves a bit of the knife into Thomas chest.

Thomas shoves Newts hand away from him which causes Newts elbow to ram into my forehead forcefully.

I hit the ground with my back, my ears clogged and my vision blurry.

I desperately try to refocus my vision and attempt to get up but I can't.

I give myself a second to breath before I try again, succeeding this time.

My head pounds as I push myself to fight.

I slowly stumble up into my feet, the sound of Newt and Thomas fighting floods back into my ears and my vision clears up and my vision is still slightly blurry as I watch Thomas and Newt collide into a each other.

The sound of a knife penetrating flesh fills my ears and makes my blood run cold.

Thomas' eyes find mine and the look he gives me tears my heart out, ripping it to pieces.

My vision fully returns just in time to see Thomas reluctantly pull away from Newt with teary eyes.

"No!" I screams rushing towards them just as Newt's body hits the floor.

"NO! NO! NO! NO!" I continue to shout as I fall beside Newt, not caring about my pounding headache or my aching knees from hitting the ground so hard.

My hands tremble as I struggle to find a place to rest my hands.

My hands settle on his face as I watch the life drain from his eyes.

I scream and scream and scream until my throat felt like it was on fire.

I cupped Newt's face in my hands as my salt tears drop onto his perfect lips.

The lips I'll never get to kiss again.

I sob heavily as I wrap my arms around him, cradling him to my chest.

"Don't leave me!" I sob out to him.

I don't even notice that Thomas is now gone until I look up at the sky and from my peripheral vision I see Brenda starting teary eyed.

Minho, Gally and Frypan slow to a stop once they see the scene in front of them.

I turn back towards Newt and sob louder.

"I'm sorry." I whisper in his ear.

I feel soft hands rest on my arm and I look up to see Frypan with tears falling down his cheeks on the side of me staring down at Newt.

I heard a shuffle on my right and I turn to see Minho staring blankly at Newt with Gally a few inches beside him.

Fry gentle raises his hand up to Newt's face which causes me to flinch and instinctively grab his hand, squeezing his wrist tightly.

Fries face morphs into pain which causes me to let go instantly and mutter an apology.

Fry nods before cautiously reaches over to close Newt's eyes.

The simple action emits another round of sobs as I hold on even tighter to Newt.

"Come on, we have to go." I hear Gally say in a strained voice.

"Y/n..." I hear Fry start.

"No." I protest, sternly.

"Y/n, we have to go." Fry says, his voice breaking.

"I SAID NO!" I shout, my voice hoarse.

My right hand trembles as I hold the gun up to Fry, Minho, Brenda and Gally.

"Woah!"

"Y/n-"

I don't even know where I got the gun from or when I moved to get it but here I am holding it on my friends...my family.

Tears blur my vision slightly and and my chin wobbles.

"Leave me here." I choke out.

"This wasn't supposed to hap-happen!" I hiccup.

"I love him! He isn't supposed to leave me!"

"Just-" I throw the gun. "Just leave me here!" I say returning to cradling Newt to my chest.

"Y/n..." I hear the soft voice of Brenda and foots steps as they get closer.

"You know he wouldn't want you to stay here." She says.

I shake my head as tears continue to spill from my sore, bloodshot eyes.

"No-no you don't get to say th-that!" I spit out.

"But you know it's true. He loved you Y/n and you know he would want you to get out and be free." she continues.

Her words sink in.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I whisper to him as I litter continuous kisses on his forehead and cheeks.

" I love you, so so much." I say placing one more, long kiss on my forehead.

I slowly and gently lift his body off of mine and onto the concrete.

I sniff and let the tears flow.

"G-goodbye, Newt." I whisper.

I slowly and brokenly stumble to my feet and crash slightly into Brenda who gently guides me away from Newt.

I look back at him and a sob escapes my lips as I leave the love of my life.

Brenda keeps a tightly grip on my wrist as she guides me to the Bereg.

We make it and Jorge wordless pulls me into a hug where I crash my body weight into him and release more sobs.

"Come on, we gotta go." Vince gently says as Jorge guides me inside and into a seat.

I abandon the seat and slide on the floor instead where I stare blankly at the wall with hot, salty tears rolling down my face.

Soon enough Brenda comes and sit next to me, not saying or doing anything, just there for comfort.

After a while my tears stop and stain my face puffed up, blotchy face but my mind continues to run.

I get so lost in my thoughts that I don't even realize the panics everyone was going through to get Thomas or the fact that he was bleeding out.

The hit to the head I took earlier catches up to me as my vision turns black.

I wake up laying in a cot next to a passed out Thomas.

I confusedly look around at the medical supplies in the tent.

I listen and hear the sounds of water whooshing and loud chattering.

I sit up slowly and look down at my clothes.

I paused when I see Newt's shirt on me.

I swallow back my emotions and raise the shirt up to sniff it.

I release a breathy laugh as I could still smell his strong earthy scent.

I’m gonna live for you, Newt. For the both of you.

I thought while caressing my stomach.

[pingguins]

Masterlist || Begin Again

↳  Navigation

Newt x F!Reader

Warnings: violence, graphic scenes, cursing

Summary:

What do you do when you've gotten out? Out of the Maze, out of The Scorch, with WICKED supposedly destroyed? When the love of your life turns into the monster you and your friends have tried and failed to outrun?

The story takes place after Death Cure. Newt's alive, but so are the workers of the people who trapped and tortured you.

As more of the story unfolds, Y/N and Newt have to survive and live with the fact that both are willing to die for each other. Hopefully, with allies ahead, they will go on to have a life instead of just surviving.

Everything happens for a reason. Now that Newt's life has been given another chance, we can only wish that the story ends without having another's taken away.

Even when all else fails, with enough time and perseverance—often times with strategy and purpose—life finds a way to begin again.

•─────⋅☾ Chapters ☽⋅─────•

☬ Prologue

☬ Chapter 1: Impatience

☬ Chapter 2: Grit

☬ Chapter 3: A Wicked Escape

[geminigengar]

He's Bad, She's Worse

tmr gally x female manipulator!reader

you get between gally and some bullies.

warnings: canon typical violence, gaslighting, bullying, injury, mean!reader, protective!gally, illusions to sex / nsfw talk

A/N: peace and love to the grumpy x sunshine gally fans but i could make him worse • none of the toxicity is between gally & reader, it'll make sense when you read it • i cannot take 'shuck' and 'slinthead' seriously i refuse to write it

word count: ~1.5k

all characters & reader are 18+

you dragged yourself out of the woods, exhausted. harvest had been great today and would feed everyone in the glade for a while but god was tiring.

having done enough to leave early, you'd taken off to the trees to be by yourself for a while. it was nice to relax and recharge by yourself every now and then, without the grading voices of the other track-hoes and gardeners you worked with.

all you wanted was a cold shower and to get back to your hut in peace. you were excited for gally to get back, knowing he wouldn't be home for a few hours after you. you knew where gally's favourite shirt was. you also know how he reacted whenever he saw you in his clothes. needless to say, you may be tired but were looking forward to-

"ah, hell" you groaned.

you saw the late afternoon sun filter through the branches above you. normally this would be a gorgeous sight, one you would want to commit to memory. at the moment you just sighed, having landed flat on your back after distractedly walking in to a low hanging branch.

gally's fault, 100%.

it's not like you had any control over the fact he was so hot you couldn't think straight.

you got up, nursing your split lip and rapidly bruising black eye.

definitely his fault.

you sighed, knowing gally would work himself into a frenzy at the sight of your face- even if you were only in his shirt. he was insanely protective of you. to the rest of the gladers it was concerning how much he cared for you, but you didn't care. you loved it. you adored how much he pampered you and the princess treatment he gave you, showering you in affection any chance he could, not caring what the others thought.

you were just as passionate about him as he was about you, only you were better at reigning it in when you needed to; unlike gally. your boyfriend being the swing-first-ask-questions-later type; all brawn and no brain.

you sighed wistfully. he was perfect.

dusting off your pants, you continued your trek formulating some other plan to ensure a better night with gally than being dragged to the med-jacks.

your scheming continued as you walked until you heard voices coming from near your hut.

odd, considering you'd had gally build it as far away as reasonably possible from the gladers' sleeping quarters. he didn't complain either, considering you both wanted to be away from the other boys- most of which you couldn't stand to be around on a good day.

peeking behind a tree towards your home you felt your breath catch.

gally was on the ground sporting a bloody nose, unable to get up due to the boot to his chest. ansel, the man you now deemed number one on your shit list, on the other end of the shoe, laughing at him. his idiot partner in crime, seth, egging him on.

you were livid. they thought you were a bitch before, they haven't seen a fraction of what you could do.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

gally was pissed. the two runners sneering down at him the cherry on top of the shit day he was already having. after one of his clumsy builders broke gally's hand with a hammer and landed him in the med-jack house for the day; only to be joined later by another builder that had slipped from the roof they were building. saying he was irritated would be an understatement.

all he wanted was to see you and forget about everything and everyone else for a few hours.

getting punched in the face before he entered his own hut definitely derailed that plan by a longshot.

gally shoved ansel's boot off only for him to bring it back harder, pinning gally to the ground. "not so fast."

letting his head fall back, gally sighed through his nose. he was too tired for this.

"what do you want?"

"'what do we want?' are you stupid?" seth asked, notably a safe distance away from gally even from his place under ansel's boot.

"you think i know what you two idiots think about?" he scoffed, clearly offended. gally was probably thr most aggressive person in the glade. he could think of a laundry list of things he'd said or done that pissed people off- and that was just today. in his defence today was a lot.

ansel put more pressure on his leg. "one night in the slammer's not enough for what you did."

oh.

that.

gally's always had an issue with the two runners but it came to a head sometime last month.

he knew normally you ignored any comments and looks sent your ways by the gladers. that it didn't bother you too much either way, even if it bothered the hell out of gally. you could handle yourself well enough and most of the gladers were too scared to actually try anything, too scared of him to make any moves on his girl. but ansel and seth had been starring for far too long and made one too many comments about your chest that day that gally happened to witness.

had you told him not to worry about the comments and just brush them off? yes. multiple times. but did he ever listen? no.

resulting in the two runners in the med-jacks house for two days and gally in the slammer for the night.

not that he cared, to him it was worth it. you were his and he wouldn't let anyone get away with speaking about you like that, despite your protests. in his mind they didn't deserve to even look at you, let alone talk about you. besides, no matter how much you had scolded him afterwards, he knew you loved it if the sex you both had after was anything to go by.

he huffed, grip tightening on the leather against his chest "yeah? then take it up with alby."

"exactly boy," all boys turned towards you hearing the door to your and gally's hut creak open. "take it up with alby."

all three froze and took in the sight of you casually leaning against the doorframe with a drink in your hands.

in only his button up shirt and underwear.

"move it ansel, i prefer my boyfriend unsquashed."

gally's never moved quicker in his life; punching ansel's knee into an unnatural angle and throwing the boy off of him. ansel stayed on the ground he hit hard, hissing as he clutched his now injured knee.

gally was in front of you before you knew it, standing between you and the other gladers. you knew he was pissed that they were seeing you like this but you didn't pay it any mind. in fact you'd snuck around the back of the hut and changed specifically because you knew when gally was possessive he was terrifying, and the only thing worse than a pissed off gally was a pissed off gally between you and trouble. you recalled him once scaring thomas so bad, none of the gladers spoke to you for a week. damn, you missed silence.

gally pulled you from your train of thought as he blocked you from their view, arms crossed in front of him. you wrapped your arms around one of his skull sized biceps, pressing a kiss to it before resting your head against his shoulder. "thank you," you stated, smiling sweetly. "if you three are done with the kiddie fight-"

"hold on!" ansel shouted from his spot on the ground, seth doing his best to help the other runner stand.

gally stiffened under your touch, puffing his chest out further defensively. you stiffled a chuckle into his sleeve. you loved seeing this side of him.

"we're not done with him yet, not by a long shot." seth pointed out.

you shrugged, "okay."

"okay?"

all the were looking at you, gally more confused than the others. he trusted you and knew you well enough to know that you were up to something, he just didn't know what.

"yeah okay." you shrugged again, letting go of gally to rub his back, "whatever you do to him's gonna be nothing compared to alby'll have in store for you two."

"what the hell are you talking about?"

you smirked into gallys shoulder, moving further behind him. "just saying, alby's not gonna be too happy with you considering it was you two who attacked me when i was home alone,"

gally bit his lip to keep from bursting out laughing as ansel and seth's jaws dropped simultaneously.

so that's your angle.

god you were absolutely evil.

gally was in love.

seth was visibly sweating. "what?" he choked, "how- but we didn't touch you!"

"didn't you? i mean i have the black eye to prove it," pointing to your face you smiled sweetly before pressing another kiss to gally's shoulder as he grinned like mad in front of you. you knew he'd fuss over your eye and lip once the others were gone but he assumed if you were alright enough to put on this little show of yours he could wait until you were done to properly take care of you.

"and poor gal here got his nose broken defending me, isn't that right babe?"

he nodded instantly, starring them down "yup," he said popping the 'p.'

ansel and seth stood frozen in place, before seth erupted, almost startling you. you weren't paying attention as he shouted droning on and on about how alby respected them too much and how you were the greenie here and nobody would believe you.

he finally shut up as you sniffed, letting tears fall from your eyes with a pout on your face; gripping gally's sleeves as he instinctively wrapping his arm around your thighs from his place in front of you.

"ha!" ansel was chuckling now, "you know we're right."

he might've been laughing but now you were cackling, wiping the tears off your face. "are you though?" you smiled, "see, it's that easy." you remarked, voice saccharine sweet. even gally was stunned, what had been instant adrenaline at your distress leaving his body at the sound of your laugh as he processed your crocodile tears.

all three stood shell shocked, the two runners debating their chances. on the one hand you could be full of it, even if it was a good performance. and even with ansel's injured knee the two of them could still fight. on the other hand they were scared to see if you could fight and knew full well gally wouldn't hesitate to actually kill someone when it came to you.

you took a sip of your drink, enjoying the tense silence knowing you were the cause of it. you could practically see the gears turning in their heads. it was short lived enthusiasm as your lip pulsed painfully under the cup brim reminding you of not only your injuries, but your exhaustion.

you stood up on your tip toes, pressing a quick kiss to gally's cheek that he still had to lean down for you to reach, which he did instinctively. turning back to the door, you informed the three "as fun as this was, i'm tired so beat it or gally and i flip a coin to see who gets to scratch your names off the wall."

you weren't even all the way through the door before gally was picking you up by the waist to the sound of rapid footsteps running away from your hut.

[magicmists]

Thomas tmr x reader

Summary: reader is cold in the scorch an thomas comforts her

a/n please comment if you liked this I'm trying to write more.

You shiverd from the cold. Although it had been hot all day it was now freezing. You almost began to cry when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder. You have been anxious about what lied ahead and Thomas knew that.

" are you scared? "

You nodded as he pulled you closer and hugged you tighter. He began to stroke your hair as you drifted to sleep with him whispering how much he loved you and that it was going to be okay into your ear.

[heliads]

ok so… i’m totally obsessing over Newt from TMR rn but i’m not sure if u still write for him🤧 but if u do i was thinking maybe something like during bonfire night the reader has had too many special drinks from Gally, accidentally confesses to Newt and lists everything she loves about him and then Newt gets all flustered and stuff (he’s so cute omg) but the reader is too drunk to go back to their own hammock so then Newt carries reader to their hammock but ends up sharing a hammock and then the reader doesn’t remember anything the next morning and then i’ll let u decide the rest😭

gally's special brew as a plot device >> it will always be famous to me

masterlist

In roughly thirty seconds, you’re going to reach a milestone you never thought possible. You’ve been waiting for this for a while now, counting down the days and hours and minutes like you were going to find yourself anywhere other than right here when your self-imposed timer went off. All you’ve got to remember the date is a memory, but given the fact that you only recall so many of those, it was easier to place than one would expect.

An alarm goes off across the Glade, ear-piercing klaxons rattling off of the high stone walls surrounding you. The rest of the boys around you start to amble towards the source of the noise, the Box newly arrived from who knows where, but you stay put for the time being, just breathing in the moment.

One blond boy next to you, your closest friend and favorite person here, nudges you in the leg with his foot. You’re both sitting in the unruly grass, ignoring the press of the green strands against your arms and calves. You have a habit of always wanting to keep him within reach.

“Why aren’t you racing towards the Box?” He asks.

You tilt your head to the side, staring up at the sky. Robin’s egg blue dappled with clouds, it’s the only pocket of space outside the Walls that you’ll likely ever know. “Today marks one year since I showed up here for the first time.”

Newt whistles through his teeth. “Shoot, already? Feels like time has flown. I swore you came up just last month.”

“No, I’ve been keeping count. Twelve months and I’m still here.”

Newt winces. He made a promise to you at the very start that he would get you out in six months, then, when that deadline came and went, he lengthened it to a year. The oath was only sworn because you were nervous about this place when you were still a Greenie and unused to the idea of living and dying here in endless repetition. You’re no happier about that fact now, but you are more used to it, at least.

“Well,” he starts off, “maybe you’re still here, yeah, but Minho and the other Runners are getting closer to finding a way out, I swear. Minho says they’re this close to having mapped the whole thing, then we’ll have an escape route for certain. Just give it another year. You won’t even notice the time passing, I promise.”

It’s kind of Newt to try to distract you again, even though you both know by this point that it’s useless. Minho is getting closer to traveling every pathway of the Maze, yes, but what Newt isn’t mentioning is how little the Keeper of the Runners actually is to finding something useful. Whenever you ask Minho what he’s learned about how to get out of here, he only ever comes up with a blank slate.

Still, harping on that doesn’t exactly make for a good time, so you’ll let yourself play along with Newt’s idea of your inevitable escape from this place for now. He’s losing hope even faster than you, even if he doesn’t tell anyone. It would be good to keep up the pretense.

You eye his leg, the one with the limp, and nod. “Yeah, next year for sure.”

Newt sits in silence for a moment or two longer, then stands up carefully, offering a hand to you. “Come on, then. We’ve got a Greenie to stare at and stuff to unpack from the Box, no time for musing. Besides, we’ve all got to get ready for the bonfire later tonight.”

You accept his offer of help, and when you’re on your feet once more, your smile is back. “I forgot about the bonfire! Oh, that’ll make everything better. Always does.”

Newt grins. “You’re just saying that because it’s the one time a month Alby will let all of us get proper wasted and skip work for the afternoon.”

“Of course I am,” you laugh, “I want to have fun! Is that such a terrible thing?”

Newt slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side as the two of you walk lopsidedly over to the Box opening. The other Gladers have already crowded around the opening, but there’s enough space for the two of you to peer in at the befuddled newcomer inside if you squeeze past a few Track-Hoes.

“No,” he murmurs later, once you’ve almost forgotten what you were talking about, “I don’t think it is.”

Damn right. You’ve looked forward to each Bonfire Night of your full year here with just as much excitement as everyone else. The soaring flames, the delighted shrieks and shouts of your friends, plus Gally’s special brew, everything about the celebration is a joy to behold. You can watch Gally kick the asses of people who should have known better to challenge him, or observe the Greenie as he tries to figure out his name.

Or, better yet, you can sit in a circle of your friends and tell jokes that get progressively worse as the lot of you get progressively more tipsy and tired. The night wears on, the stars burn themselves out above you just trying to catch a glimpse of your magnificently roaring fire, and all is well, as much as it can be around here.

At some point, you look up and you’re sitting alone with Newt towards the outskirts of the gathering. You don’t remember quite when that happened, but you’ve refilled your glass enough times that the memory loss sort of makes sense. Does anything here, though? No, not at all. Not ever.

Newt’s grinning over at you, saying something that you have to focus extra hard to hear. “Are you lucid again?”

“Not entirely,” you beam up at him, “Have I had a lot to drink tonight?”

Newt grimaces. “Probably more than you should have. You’ll be regretting it tomorrow, I can promise you that. Sorry for not cutting you off earlier.”

You shake your head a little too wildly and have to pause for a moment to blink the stars out of your eyes before continuing. “No, that’s not your fault. You don’t have to watch out for me all the time.”

Something almost like hurt plays upon Newt’s features, mixing with the warm glow of the firelight, and it makes you rush to say something so he stops looking so unhappy. “Only if you don’t want to watch out for me, that is. I like having you around. Makes me feel better.”

“Really?” Newt asks, amused.

“Really,” you confirm happily. “You’re my favorite person here by far. Minho teases me about that a lot, actually. He says I should soldier up and just tell you that, but he can’t bully me anymore, because I’m talking about it right now, aren’t I? He’s right, though, I do like you. Oh– I was thinking, Newt, and– and I think I’m okay, staying in the Glade forever, if I’ve got you here with me. You’re the best thing about this place.”

You hadn’t meant to ramble on like that, but the words came easily enough from your throat, and Newt seemed like he really wanted to hear what you were saying, so you went ahead and let him. 

Newt sits for a few minutes in stunned silence before clearing his throat a little too loudly. “Um. Well, I think you should get to bed. Like, now. I think you’re drunk.”

“No,” you protest, “well, I am drunk, yeah, but I’m not just saying that because I’m drunk. I mean it, Newt. I really do.”

Newt’s expression softens. “I know you did, sweetheart. Let’s go to bed anyway, though. I think some rest would be good for you.”

“Alright,” you decide. 

Newt stands up. You try to start walking back with him, but your feet refuse to cooperate on the uneven ground and you end up tripping more than you should. Eventually, Newt laughs quietly and picks you up, easily carrying you back to your hammock. He tries to set you down but you’re seized by the overwhelming panic that he’ll leave you here alone and you complain vehemently.

He’s still in a good temper, though (is it not wonderful to be needed?) and instead shifts so he’s lying down in his hammock instead, you on his stomach. You whisper goodnight to him and he says goodnight back, then a beat and a half later, did you really mean what you said? About me, that is? About how you–

You can’t really pick up what he’s saying, though. He was right about you needing rest, because the gentle swaying of the hammock and the soft beat of his heart under your head is just enough to send you off to sleep. Darkness pulls you under in an instant, and you’re rocked away to the tune of the crickets chirping somewhere in the distance and Newt still mumbling questions against the top of your head.

You can sense your hangover looming like dark clouds on the horizon, signaling a true storm of a day about to wreck you for good, but for now it’s just in the distance, not quite yours, not yet. The terrible feeling is warded off by an odd sense of calm and quiet. It’s warm now, warm and comfortable in your hammock, which is strange. Usually, you wake up cold on mornings in the Glade, but not today. It makes you want to snuggle down further, push off consciousness just a little longer.

Then your hand connects with something that isn’t one of your few allotted threadbare blankets or the knots of your hammock, something soft, like skin. A hand, one that isn’t yours. Your eyes fly open and– well, you don’t remember this, but you’re not exactly going to complain.

Newt is lying next to you, still asleep. You are curled up beside him, must have fallen asleep with your head on his chest. One of his hands is just touching yours, the other is cupping the back of your head to pull you closer to him.

Immediately your brain splits into two warring factions. One half wants to run away quickly, figure out what happened and why you’re here. This isn’t what you’re supposed to be doing, you know. Shuck, Alby would have a fit if he saw the two of you like this. Probably enough to throw you in the Slammer for a couple of hours.

The other part of yourself wants to stay here forever, to close your eyes and make Newt wake up first and handle it. You haven’t felt peace like this in a while. It’s just the two of you, soft and sweet and mostly folded over in sleep. Why should you disturb this? Disturb him? He’ll just be unhappy if you wake him and force him to realize that you’re here. Probably. Unless he’s the one who let you sleep in his hammock, which is more likely and far more terrifying.

Your issue is solved when Newt shifts slightly, rocking the hammock, and wakes up at last. You quickly shut your eyes and feign sleep, but judging by the movement of his chest as he laughs, you were caught in the act.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N.” He says.

You reluctantly open your eyes. “Maybe. By any chance, do you know why I’m here and not in my own hammock?”

You might just be kidding yourself, but you swear something almost like disappointment crosses Newt’s face. “You were pretty drunk last night,” he says at last, “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

It’s a decent explanation, but that doesn’t explain why he’s looking at you like he really, really wants you to remember something about the events of the most recent Bonfire Night. “What did I do last night?” You ask slowly.

Newt shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything, trust me.”

“Then what did I say? You’re looking at me like you’re going crazy.”

Newt furrows his brows in a moment of indignation. “What? I’m not– I’m not looking at you like that. Anyway, you might have said a thing or two. Maybe.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Newt, if you keep withholding information from me, I’m going to rock the hammock so much you fall on the ground. What happened?”

He has the audacity to laugh at your threat, as if you weren’t completely serious about it. “Alright, alright. You might have told me that you liked me.”

Your sense of terror, which had faded briefly after Newt woke up, is back in full force. “I did what?”

“You told me you liked me,” Newt repeats, “and I thought– well, you were drunk, so I thought you didn’t mean it, but–”

“I did mean it,” you whisper.

Newt’s eyes are wide when you dare to risk a glance back up at him. “Oh.”

That’s a bad oh. Has to be. You move to get up and try to run away before he can look at you like that anymore, but Newt tightens his grip around your waist, forcing you to lie back down. “Wait, wait. Don’t go. I like you too.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling, “Have for a while. Minho teases me about that too, by the way. No wonder he seems so frustrated about it, he has to listen to both of us moping around even though we both like each other.”

You laugh. “That would be annoying, yes. He has to be happy now, though, we finally told each other about it.”

“That we did,” Newt says, and you can feel the upturned crescent of his lips as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Maybe you spent a whole year in the Glade without ever seeing rescue. Maybe another year will pass without anything, or maybe five, or ten. Maybe you’ll never leave at all. Still, you’ve got your reasons to be happy after all. They start with him.

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss, @hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @w1shes43, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope, @fadedver

[sovksluv]

i’m back in my minho phase again (it’s not a phase it’s a reoccurring lifestyle)

SO SEND TMR MINHO ASKS PLEASEEEEEE !!!!!!

he’s so 😫

[imagineshere-forall]

REQUESTS

After a very long accidental hiatus, I am in a writing mood, so please send me requests! 

I write for:

Top Gun: Maverick Outer Banks HP (Marauders only) MCYT DSMP Criminal Minds Teen Wolf Peaky Blinders B99 Shameless (US) Stranger Things MCU Maze Runner Kingsman Now You See Me 1&2

and probably more, but i’m forgetful! Please send requests :)

[justanobsessedfangirl]

What Makes a Home - The Maze Runner Imagine

Request from Anonymous: I have a lil maze runner request. 🥺 maybe something involving a very motherly reader taking care and keep order of all the glade boys and — girl. yea, that’s all I got 😔 just some nice fluffy maternal stuff.

Warning: Some mentions of blood -- I don't think it's too graphic but it is mentioned.

Author's Note: I hope this is what you wanted! Thank you for your patience!

Word Count: 2.5k

"If you don't tie your shoes, you're going to trip over a rock and crack your head open and get a really ugly scar, and you know what you're going to think then? While you're lying on the ground next to the rock that just cracked your head open? You'll think, 'Gosh, Y/N really was right, just like she always is!' And then you'll die. All because you didn't tie your shoes."

Minho cackled as he bent down. He made a big show of double-knotting his laces, narrating aloud, "First you go left under right, then you make the bunny ears..."

You stood over him, hands on your hips, and tried to hold onto your scowl. You meant business. But then he looked up at you and he smiled and you felt yourself smiling back.

"Thanks, Mom," he teased.

You swatted at his arm but he twisted away, laughing as he shot back in to give you a peck on your cheek. He sprinted off to the Maze, calling out behind him, "Hope you're not too bored without me!"

Slinthead, you thought, but the words that came out of your mouth were, "Be careful!" You watched him until he disappeared into the stone mouth of the Maze, and then you waited a few more minutes, just in case he'd forgotten anything.

Time seemed to pass slower in the morning. The sun crawled up the horizon, creeping into a sky painted with vibrant reds, pinks, and oranges. The Glade began to stir awake.

A group of Slicers passed you on their way to the Blood House. Winston was at the head of the pack, talking with Frankie about something that seemed to require lots of hand gestures. Both boys nodded at you as you waved. Trailing behind them were Mike, Dave, and Geo. Geo was busy trying to step on the back of Dave's shoes, and Dave was busy trying to shove Geo away from him, but Mike slowed to a stop beside you, an easy smile on his face.

"Everything alright?"

You smiled back at him. "Yeah, you? Do you guys need any help?"

Mike shook his head. "I know we don't look the most competent," a few feet away, Dave had slung an arm around Geo's neck and gotten him in a headlock, and was now giving him a noogie, "but we're pretty good at our jobs. I just wanted to say thanks for taking over in the kitchen for me."

"No problem! I like helping Frypan."

Mike's smile grew. "You're the best. Let me know if you need anything!" He squeezed your shoulder and jogged back to his friends. Frankie had separated Dave and Geo and was holding them by the backs of their shirts, but that hadn't deterred Winston from his gesticulating.

You gave the group one last wave, receiving back a chorus of "Bye, Y/N!" and, with a final look at the Maze doors, you headed for the kitchen.

"There's our favorite girl!" Frypan exclaimed when you walked in, his hands deep in a ball of dough. The smell of bacon and eggs made your mouth water, and you saw Jim and Carl manning the flat top grill, bickering whenever they thought the other got in their way. Jack was beside them, providing empty plates and taking away the ones they filled, lining them up on the counter that separated the kitchen from the tables.

"You're just in time. We really knead you." Jack laughed at his own joke, jerking his chin to the dough, his hands full of plates.

Jim and Carl groaned in unison, then went back to arguing. Frypan began to sing, too loud and too off-key, and so perfect for the rambunctious peculiarity of the Glade that it made you feel at home. You smiled, rolled up your sleeves, and got to work.

Your shift in the kitchen ended after lunch with Frypan shooing you out the door. "We've got this handled now, I swear. Clint and Jeff will kill me if I keep you late again," he'd said. Then he'd ruffled your hair and shut the door behind you. A second later, you heard a loud crash, a cacophony of curses from the cooks, and a hurried, "We're fine!"

You made your way to your next job. It was a short walk, just long enough for you to run into Chuck, who tried to tag along with you until Zart, in charge of the boy for the day, hauled him back to the Gardens; and Newt and Alby, who walked with their heads bowed in deep conversation, only looking up to give you a quick greeting.

Gally lingered by the Med-jack Hut, holding his left arm to his body. His eyes were shifty, his face sulky. When he saw you coming, his lips set into a grim line that could have meant he was relieved or pissed off.

"Hey, Gally, you doing okay?" you said brightly, opening the door.

Gally followed you inside. "Fine," he grunted. As soon as he kicked the door shut behind him, he thrust his left arm in your face.

It was drenched in red. "Woah, what'd you do there?" You took a reactionary step back so it didn't drip on you, then peered closer.

"Dumb Greenie. Can't use a clunkin' saw." Gally spat on the ground.

You clucked your tongue at him. "Not indoors," you chided.

Gally frowned but didn't spit again.

"Sit down, I'll fix you right up." You pointed to the cot. Gally followed your directions like an angry toddler: trudging to the bed, sitting down heavily, and letting out a series of irritated sighs while you searched through the drawers. The medical supplies were sorted meticulously by Clint and put into frequent disarray by Jeff. You guessed Clint had been here last because you were able to easily find clean towels, wipes, and antibiotic ointment. You cleaned your hands with a wet wipe, tossed it in the trash, then returned to Gally, your brightest, most eager-to-help smile on your face.

Gally scowled at the floor.

You pulled his arm toward you and went to work wiping away the blood with a towel. "So a new guy did this?"

Gally nodded.

"And how'd that happen?" With the blood mostly cleared away, you could see a long, skinny cut along Gally's forearm. It stretched from just below his wrist halfway to his elbow. Although it had clearly gushed blood before, the rush had slowed. You applied pressure while you waited for Gally's answer.

"Idiot said he could cut the board. Idiot couldn't cut the damn board." Gally gritted his teeth as you pressed harder.

"What are you guys working on right now?" Peeling the towel back, you took a peek at the cut. It had stopped bleeding so heavily, and you could see that it wasn't deep. You let out a quiet, happy hum, then traded out the towel for a wipe. You started to clean the cut, glancing up at Gally every so often.

"We're...uh...working. On the Homestead." Gally's eyes flicked to yours, widened when he saw you were looking at him, then shot back to the floor. "Just normal stuff. Not for anything."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Not for anything?" Gally's mouth clamped shut. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. "The cut's not too bad," you added after the silence had stretched on for too long.

"So I can leave?" He tensed like he was about to bolt off the bed.

"No! I haven't even bandaged it yet. It's like you're asking for it to get infected." You gave him a light smack on his uninjured arm.

Gally looked affronted. "No, I'm not," he muttered.

"You guys are too tough for your own good sometimes," you mused as you started dabbing the antibiotic ointment on Gally's cut. He grunted in response, which you decided to take as him profusely thanking you for doing such a good job. You bandaged his arm with a smile. "All set."

Gally was striding to the door as soon as the words were out of your mouth. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"No problem!" You started cleaning up, trying to match Clint's keen eye for organization. You were just trying to remember if he stored the creams alphabetically by name or by use when you heard someone clear their throat. You turned.

Gally was still standing by the door. His hands were on his hips and he was glaring a hole into the floor. "It's good," he said, seeming to fight to get every word out, "that we have someone like you. In the Glade." He nodded sharply, then stomped out of the room.

Your chest warmed and a shy, heartfelt smile crept onto your lips. "Thanks, Gally," you said to no one.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful. Somehow, not a single Glader managed to get injured. Not even Chuck! Or someone working in the general vicinity of Chuck! You’d organized and reorganized the supplies, and when that had become mind-numbingly boring, you’d practiced your sutures and leafed through the medical textbooks. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you headed to dinner alone. Neither Clint nor Jeff had come to get you. Usually one of them would take over while you were gone, or, if all the Runners were back and the Builders and Slicers had finished their work for the day, all three of you would walk to the kitchen together. Leaving the Med-jack hut unattended made you uneasy. You hoped you would run into one of the Med-jacks on the way.

You saw no one. As you neared the kitchen, the air felt too still. The Glade was too quiet, too devoid of all the noises people made as they talked and ate and allowed themselves to unwind. You knew the kitchen and the dining area would be empty before you walked in, but it still made your chest run cold to see a place that was supposed to be so lively be so dead.

Your mind raced as you left the kitchen. Was there a meeting? You started walking toward the Homestead, then running. Why hadn't anyone gotten you? At the back of your mind, in that slimy, creeping voice that you hated, another thought arose: what if the Creators had taken all of them back?

You ran faster.

Suddenly, the doors of the Homestead burst open, and Gladers came pouring out, calling your name. For a split second, you were terrified. For a split second, you thought everything had gone wrong. Then you saw their grins. You heard their happiness. You slowed down.

"What's going on?" you asked, breathless from exertion and shock and excitement.

Newt was at the front of the group. "The boys made a little surprise for you, love." He tilted his head back at the Homestead.

"They did?" Your heart had pounded with panic seconds before, and it kept its same quick beat, only now trickles of warmth began to fill your chest and small butterflies beat against your stomach. Newt moved out of your way, giving you a clear path into the Homestead. Boys lined up on either side of you, more peering out through the open door, and, as you walked inside, a motley group of Keepers and your closest friends waited for you against the back of the room. The group was so thick you couldn't see the wall behind them. Thomas and Minho were front and center, wearing matching smiles of mischief and glee.

"One," Minho said.

"Two," continued Thomas.

"Three!" they shouted in unison, and the group parted to reveal a door.

A new door.

"That isn't--" you started to say, and then you were pushed and pulled forward, and they opened the door for you, and you were inside of the Homestead's newest room.

Your room.

Your friends filled in after you. They wandered around the small space, excitedly pointing out the things they'd brought for you.

"You obviously need a better blanket, so I put my second favorite one there for you." Minho pointed to the bottom of the bed, a roguish grin on his face. Both of you knew that was his favorite blanket.

"And I folded it!" Chuck added.

"I read that the smell of lavender helps with sleeping," Clint said when you saw the vase of flowers on your bedside table.

"And I put them in a glass!" Chuck added.

"Brought some housewarming snacks!" Frypan shouted as he and the other cooks weaved in and out of the Homestead holding trays of mini sliders.

"And I helped bring them over from the kitchen!" Chuck added.

"Newt and I...uh...tried to make some pillows." Thomas scratched the back of his head. "We recruited Jeff to sew them up. I think they'll stay shut?" He smiled bashfully.

"And I helped stuff them!" Chuck added.

"Made a rug out of sheepskin," Winston cut in proudly.

Chuck did not have anything to add.

As the commotion swirled around you, and you nodded and laughed and thanked everyone, you felt a quiet presence beside you. Looking over, you saw Gally, who seemed determined not to stare back at you.

"I thought you said you were just working on normal stuff," you teased. Around you, the room was warm and full of laughter. Your heart felt so full you thought it would burst. 

Gally shrugged. You figured that was all you were going to get until he said, “I came up with the idea for the window.”

The window was next to your bed. Its edges were crisp and neat, and, because they couldn’t make glass panes in the Glade, it was framed by wooden shutters so you’d be able to close it. Right now, it was open, and light from the setting sun streamed in and gave everything a comforting orange glow.

“I love it,” you said, and for a second you felt yourself getting choked up, all of your gratitude and care and love for these boys becoming overwhelming. You wanted to wrap all of them in a hug and never let them go, you wanted to tell each and every one of them that you appreciated them, you wanted to make sure none of them ever got hurt again. You wanted them all to know how much you loved them. But maybe, you thought, feeling all of them around you in this room they’d built and designed for you, maybe they already knew.

“It’s got something written on it,” Gally muttered. He nodded to the left shutter.

Swallowing back happy tears, you stepped closer, peering at the shutter's bottom edge. The words were neat, carved in delicate cursive that should have been impossible to do on wood. It said: Thank You.

You couldn’t help yourself. You started to cry.

Gally shifted uncomfortably before reaching out to give you an awkward pat on your shoulder.

You cried harder.

Then Minho’s voice rang out from across the room. “Check the other shutter!” he crowed.

Sniffling and wiping away tears, you squinted at the other shutter. There, painstakingly carved in elegant script on the right side shutter, was the word: Mom.

That slinthead.