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moonyswritinq · 15 days

Note

howdy! i recently stumbled upon your account and saw that your requests were open. i have a small request for a newt x m!reader one-shot. feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like you're up for it 👍

maybe one where the reader has longer hair, and is a runner, as the weather's gotten warmer it's starting to become more of a chore when it comes to maintaining it so he asks newt to help him cut it? it can be as silly or goofy as you want, platonic or romantic is up to you.

i hope you're having a great day and enjoying the fall weather

-🦇

if the haircut fits — newt x male reader

❝ IF THE HAIRCUT FITS ❞

Thank you so much for the request, Bat. So sorry it took so long to finish, and I kind of ran away with this one, but I hope you enjoy!

SYNOPSIS ➢ As summer started to creep into the Glade, the sun’s rays had been hitting you much harder than usual; your hair, especially, have been more of a nuisance. Your solution? Get one of your closest friends to cut it for you. But losing the weight of your hair made you want to get rid of some weight off your chest, as well.

PAIRING ➢ newt x male reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ friends to lovers, kissing, touching, banter, light insults sexual innuendoes, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, mentions of eating, mentions of drinking, slight violence (a slap), mentions of body, no use of y/n

WORD COUNT ➢ 7.3 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ I like to keep any image of the reader’s body out of my writing, but in this he’s implied to be well built, but not explicitly mentioned. The hair may also be more of a non-black standard, since I’m not sure exactly how black hair behaves in this situation, but I tried to keep it as vague as possible. I’m sure there are also a lot of inaccuracies in this concerning the Glade, such as the weather and the sun and the lake, but for the sake of this fic it works like I say it does — I am the author and therefore, God.

The air had gotten warmer recently. You’d noticed it only a few days ago, when your breath hadn’t exhaled in a cloud of white smoke and your neck had started to sweat after a full day of running in the Maze. The weather didn’t exactly respond to how the seasons—that on some level your subconscious knew existed—worked, but it changed all the same. It had only gotten warmer, and quickly, too. With the sun bearing down on from overhead, the air was chokingly warm, your skin practically dripping with sweat and the ends of your hair clinging to your neck. It had grown long during the past few months and while it was a comfort in the colder weather, strands of it now hung uncomfortably in your eyes despite your best attempts to pull it back into a knot.

Minho walked just in front of you through the gates of the Maze and entered the green forestry of the Glade. The walls closed right behind you and in spite of the late hour of the day the sun still shone bright in the sky. He was just as eager to take cover from it under the cool shade of the Glade’s woods as to throw himself into the equally cool lake. You ran up beside him, patting him on the shoulder.

“This weather,” he grunted, wiping the palms of his hands on his trousers. They left tracks of sweat. “I swear it’s got something against us.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a sigh. You peeled your drenched shirt from your skin, pulling it over your head in an attempt to ease some of the warmth. It didn’t made much of a difference.

Minho threw you a sideway glance as you walked across the green fields. “Eager to show your body off?”

You threw your head back in a bark, sidestepping so you would walk backwards to face him. Your hands spread as your head tilted with conviction.

“You’d want to show off your body too if it looked like this,” you said. Minho couldn’t help but smile at your comment, shaking his head in exasperation. You turned around to walk beside him normally again.

As the two of you made your way to the lake, you passed the gardens and its track-hoes, Newt being one among them. Despite the fact that he was second in command, he liked the calming repetitiveness of caring for vegetables and flowers. He’d told you one late night when you’d found him sitting by himself, staring up at the night sky, and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Now, his eyes met yours in an instant, as if he’d known exactly where you were. As if he’d been watching you for some while, and waiting for you to notice. Your stomach flipped at his unashamed staring, nervous under the gaze, as your mind drew a blank. Quickly, you rearranged your mouth into a smirk, to which he shook his head out of his stunned stupor and continued with his task, but you could tell his mind wasn’t present as his eyes kept jumping back and forth.

Minho saw your smug smile and hit you across the chest, hard enough to cause you to stumble. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Newt cover his mouth from something that looked like a chuckle and you glared back at Minho’s now-smug smile. He just tilted his head and kept walking to the cover of the trees.

“You can flirt with Newt later,” he said. “Let’s go wash off.”

“I wasn’t flirting with anyone! Let alone Newt.”

“Whatever, man.”

You grumbled something unintelligible, which he ignored, as you walked together to the lake on the other side of the Glade. It was a rather long walk, but the time in the trees’ shade cooled you down nicely. Reaching the lake, the water was darkening with the passing of the sun, seeming almost more ominous now than inviting. You found a few other Gladers there already, some of them laying by the bank with their shirts discarded and the rest of them submerged in the water. Minho wasted no time removing his shirt and running into the dark water. You discarded your earlier thoughts and quickly followed suit, pulling your hair from its knot and jumping into the lake with a splash that earned you an ugly glare from a Glader nearby. Minho shared the glare and slapped the water hard, sending it flying in your direction.

“Shankhead,” he muttered.

You only laughed and leant backwards, fully submerging your body under the dark water. Your muscles relaxed and let the water carry you out further in the lake, effectively cooling you down. This was exactly what you needed after a warm and exhausting day; your head under the water, your hair spread around you like the halo of some angel—if an angel could be trapped in a maze. The cold water felt like a blanket across your mind, quieting your thoughts down to a tenth of their usual volume. There were few things that could calm you like this.

The peace didn’t last long, though, as Minho’s hand suddenly closed over your arm and dragged you above surface.

“What?” you spit at him.

He cocked his head to the end of the lake and when you turned your head you saw Newt’s figure walking closer, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. You immediately tried to stand up, but forgot you were too far out, and instead of touching the sand you sunk deeper in the water with a splutter. Again, you broke the surface with a gasp and a flail of your arms, struggling to wipe your hair out of your eyes. Minho was unsurprisingly unhelpful, barking out his laugh at your unfortunate. You glared at him and swam to the bank where Newt stood waiting. It was only then that you noticed a lot of the other boys were gone or also on their way from the lake.

“Smooth,” Newt commented when you reached him.

“Shut up.”

He nodded his head to the woods behind him. “Dinnertime’s soon. Reckoned I’d go get you.”

“I am honoured your lordship would bother thinking of little ol’ me,” you smiled. He only rolled his eyes.

Your steps brought you up further, the water splashing around your knees. Newt’s arms were crossed over his chest as he leant on one foot, waiting for you to reach him. You noticed that he adamantly kept his eyes fixated on a spot just above your head, refusing to glance at any part of your body that was currently on display. A part of you sparked with amusement. Minho stepped out just behind you and went over to retrieve your clothes, throwing your shirt and boots at you.

“Thanks,” you bit at him, just barely avoiding one hitting your head.

He flashed you with a smug smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, immediately causing wet spots to bloom wherever it touched his skin directly. “My pleasure,” he said and started walking back to the huts, through the now-dark forest.

The sun had settled quickly and long shadows now stretched before you as you turned to walk into the forest. Newt followed suit, staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Not going to put on your shirt?” he asked.

You turned your head to catch Newt’s gaze sweeping across your figure. It filled you with a strange satisfaction to see him checking you out. When he noticed that you’d caught him, he immediately looked away, his posture suddenly stiff. His cheeks were definitely redder than they had been before, although it was difficult to tell in the darkening light. Your lips tugged into something resembling a smile.

“Why? Does it bother you?”

Newt scoffed and met your gaze defiantly underneath his golden fringe. “No. I just don’t want your stupid arse to get sick.”

Your smile widened. “Oh, really? Do you happen to care for me, Newt?”

“I am not admitting that,” he said and rolled his eyes. His tone was suspiciously even, as if it took everything in him not to check you out again. “I’m only saying it’d be be more trouble than you’re worth to get you healthy again.”

His brown eyes met yours, obstructed with a few strands. You had the urge to reach out and pull them away, to see his eyes more clearly, but instead you sent him a simple smile and nudged him lightly with your elbow. “Okay, you have your priorities clear,” you said.

“Just go get ready, won’t you?” His glare was enough to send shivers down your spine and his hands started to turn your body in the direction of the huts, now already having reached the end of the woods. “See what I told you? You’re already getting cold!”

“Fine,” you drawled with your hands up in defence, looking at him over your shoulder. “I’ll see you at the bonfire.”

He lifted his hand in half a wave and swiftly turned away from you, walking to where the others had begun to gather by the fire. Sometimes you forgot he had hurt his leg—it had happened before you arrived in the Glade—but looking at him now his limp was evident in his step. You lingered a moment longer to watch his hair glow in the contrast from the fire, vaguely resembling the sun in an eclipse. You found the view almost poetic, entrancing you in its picturesque aestheticism. It reminded you of Icarus flying too close to the sun, you standing by, helpless to aid him in his downfall, inevitably and irrevocably fated to meet his doom. You weren’t sure where the thought or the name had come from, but ancient knowledge seemed to lord over you in a cloud of mystery.

“Go!” called Newt suddenly over his shoulder. He met your eye with a quirk of his brow and for a second his eyes seemed to draw you into the depths of his soul, but then you blinked and the feeling was gone.

“Going!” you jumped out of your daze to call back and quickly turned to make your way to the huts. How he had known you’d stayed put you didn’t know, but didn’t question further. You rushed to your cot to grab a change of clean clothes and a towel to dry off with, even though most of the water had already dried and cooled your skin with the night’s chill. Still, your hair hung heavy with water, wetting the new shirt you put on. You groaned as you tried to wipe it with the towel, but to no avail. The only downsides to having long hair was it took forever to dry. It would have to warm by the fire.

You changed into the warm pair of trousers and put on your boots. Still, your damp hair felt cold against your skin, which would have been nice if the temperature didn’t drop so suddenly as soon as the sun was gone. You hurried to the fire, the air enveloping you into its warm grasp, eyes already searching for the familiar blonde boy. A lot of the Gladers were milling about, eating the good food Frypan had cooked up or drinking some of the incredibly strong spirit you knew Newt fancied. Someone was laughing loudly nearby but you ignored it in favour of searching for the quiet spot you knew you would find him by. When your eyes settled on him, sitting on a log with a drink in his hand and a plate on his knee, your hand reflexively made its way to pull back your bangs from your eyes. Warmth settled in your stomach that was equally familiar.

“Don’t worry, you look good,” came Minho’s voice beside you. You shot him a glare and removed your fingers from your hair, still itching to pull it away. “Not that your ego needs the boost.”

“Not what I was concerned with,” you said. You swallowed. “But thanks.”

Minho grinned. Your lips lifted into an answering grin and Minho nudged you towards the fire. “Go get ‘em.”

You frowned at him, pretending not to understand what he meant, before shaking your head and walking towards where Newt was sitting. His gaze lifted as you approached and you felt your stomach flipping, not uncomfortably.

“So, he can wear a shirt? Was starting to believe you weren’t capable of it,” said Newt, lowering his drink from his lips.

“Yeah,” you answered with a sheepish grin.

You sat down next to him on the log and reached over to nick a few pieces of his fruit. Newt immediately leant away, lifting the plate away from your reach.

“Woah--oi, hey! Don’t take my food! Get your bloody own from Frypan,” he grumbled, settling you with a glare. You recognised the glint in his eye though, the one that told you he wasn’t entirely serious. His eyes shone in the firelight, softening the longer you stayed quiet, and his lips even started to turn up. At the sight of it, yours did as well. He always knew how to bring out your mischievous side.

“Your food tastes much better.”

“It’s exactly the same.”

You shook your head. “No, by its mere proximity to you, the food is better.”

Newt rolled his eyes and placed his plate back on his knee, where your hand quickly snatched away the remainder of his fruit. He only sighed and took a long sip from his drink, pretending to ignore your staring at him. Finally, he lowered his glass and met your gaze with a sigh.

“What?” asked Newt, tone as flat as he could manage to make it in your presence.

Your lips tugged into a smile. “Nothing,” you said and glanced away.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Newt swiftly turn to you before you felt a nudge against your side, almost pushing you off balance. You cried out and reached towards him to stabilise yourself, sending him the harshest glare you could muster in spite of the laughter that was waiting in your throat. He met it with a glare of his own while ignoring your hands on his arm and shoulder, which suddenly felt too hot to the touch. Blood rushed to your cheeks.

“Nothing,” you repeated, avoiding his gaze. You were forced to let go of him with a clearing of your throat, conscious of your cold hands. You became too aware of your hair brushing your cheek, annoyingly tickling your skin. Before you could move, Newt’s hand had reached out to brush it away. Your breath hitched in your throat and you were unable to rip your eyes away from his.

“Sorry,” he said bashfully and withdrew it, curling it into an uncertain fist.

You smiled. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s getting too long,” you mumbled, your hands moving as if with a mind of their own to fiddle with the longer strands of your hair.

“I could help you, you know?” spoke Newt, drawing your gaze to him. He seemed not to have noticed your flustered state or he chose to ignore it. You hoped it was the former.

You frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

His voice broke as he opened his mouth to speak, but he cleared his throat and nodded to your head.“I could help cut your hair.”

“Really?” you asked, surprise evident in your voice. You supposed cutting weeds while gardening got him familiar around shears.

“I mean, yeah, sure,” said Newt. “Reckon I’d do a better job than anything you’d manage, anyway.”

Your head whipped to the side, mouth open in indignation. “That’s foul!”

His lips tugged into a grin and he lifted an eyebrow with the argument. “Am I wrong?” Your eyes swept over his own hair, which you assumed he’d cut himself, and pursed your lips in contemplation. It looked good. He looked good. Especially in that light, when the fire casted a golden aura that settled around his head like a halo. It effortlessly managed to draw your attention to every shift in his movement.

“No,” you finally grumbled, again tugging at a strand.

His hand reached out to tuck the stray strand of your hair away, and in doing so pushed away your own. The short moment of contact made your breath stutter and come out in a short burst. Newt met your gaze with a smile. It felt different than before, none of his usual amusement visible in his gaze. Instead, there now hung a heavy silence over the both of you, despite the loud chatter and laughter of those who had gathered by the fire. You were so close to him that you could count the lashes on his eyes. His gaze, which usually swirled with the pain and frustration that served as a reminder that Newt was capable of more than he let on, was now void of that. There was only curiosity and something softer that you couldn’t describe to be found. Newt must have felt your breath on his hand by now were it not for you holding it in anticipation. As if suddenly realising it, he blinked and leant away from you, his hand falling down at your side. Your breathing returned to normal as you tried to keep the warmth rushing to your cheeks at bay, trying in vain to ignore how close you two had just been. It was too dark for you to see if he was feeling the same way, or he was just too good at hiding it, but it didn’t keep you from scrutinising his face for any clues.

“Take a sick day tomorrow, meet me by the gardens,” he said after a few minutes of silently staring into the fire. His voice was level, as if he hadn’t been caressing your cheek only moments before.

You tried to match his nonchalance and arched an eyebrow. “Minho will murder me.”

Newt cocked his head. “Let that be on my head.”

“Fine,” you said and stood up with a groan, feeling the stretch of your muscles from the day’s run. Newt followed your movement, meeting your eye as you pointed an accusing finger at him. “On your head, be it.”

Newt nodded, sending a smirk your way. You stepped away from him and made your way to Frypan. As you grabbed a few sandwiches, Gally sneaked up by your side, swiping one of the sandwiches in your hand.

“Got tired of flirting, huh?” he chuckled.

You glared at him and bit into your sandwich. “Shut up.”

He smirked smugly. “It’s plain as day, Greeny.”

“You’re worse than Minho,” you grumbled. Your finger lifted to point in his direction. “And stop calling me that, I haven’t been Greeny for a year.”

His mocking laughter followed you as you walked away from the fire towards the huts, shaking your head. A few Gladers had followed your trail of thought, also deigning to go to bed early. You fell into your sleeping cot with your feet kicked up and a deep sigh escaping your lips. Your mind couldn’t keep from trailing back to the sight of Newt by the fire, his brown eyes shining along with his smug smirk. A groan fought through your throat as you rubbed your eyes in frustration.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Newt. On the contrary, you liked him a lot. He was kind and funny and witty and smart and always knew how to both make you laugh and trample on your nerves to get you furious with him. But you didn’t fancy him, no matter how much Minho and Gally liked to imply it. He just had a special way to worm his way into your thoughts and then burrow there. For days after an interaction, you would think of how he looked at you a certain way or how he would accidentally touch you while brushing past.

It drove you insane, how easily Newt could get inside your mind.

And how easily he could stir up the warmth inside your stomach and make it rush to your cheeks with only a simple gesture. You had found yourself trying to hide your cheeks when around him too often lately and you were sure he had noticed, but only given you the curtesy of not commenting on it.

“Fuck,” you groaned again and turned over in your cot, your hair prickling your skin with reminder of what tomorrow would bring.

It was difficult to distract your mind from Newt long enough to settle down. Eventually, you managed to fall into a restless sleep, filled with the muddled dreams of red sunlight bouncing off of bluish marble, almost creating the illusion of moving water. You saw the reflection of your form against the stone below you but before you had the chance to take it all in, a hand had clasped your own and another drawn you in by your waist. When you looked up, it was the face of none other than the person you had previously been trying to forget, although you could not fathom why at that moment. Newt. His warm smile calmed you down and you allowed him to lead you into the first steps of a waltz. How you had learnt it you didn’t question, but just followed his captivating eyes and trusted him to catch you if you fell. Those same eyes were gazing into yours, big and brown and with the same curiosity that had gazed on you earlier that day. Only now, you allowed yourself to get lost in the sight of them, to be entranced by their deep swirling darkness. Right when Newt had stretched his arm out and sent you into a light spin, and his hand was ready to welcome you back into his embrace, had his expression changed from one of bliss to one of chock and disgust. You halted, frowning at his actions, before following his line of sight and reaching a hand up to the top of your head. To your horror, all your hair had suddenly vanished. Panic rose through you, clawing blindly at your empty head, wanting to escape from this, from everything, from Newt’s hateful glance. You took a step and tried another but caught the only small imperfection in the marble that caused you to stumble, falling down, down, and down… waiting for the ground to hit you.

What came instead was a slap on your chin, harsh enough to force you awake.

“Ngh— fuck,” you croaked, blinking drowsily. Your vision cleared up as you squinted at your assailant, recognising the judging stare immediately. “Come on, man.”

The sun had barely come up again over the tall walls guarding the Glade when Minho had deigned to make you a visit. That time was usually when you would get ready for your run in the Maze. Apparently, Newt had not said anything to Minho which made you let out a deep groan. Minho was staring down at your messy form, his arms crossed over his chest with a harsh stare pinning you to your place. He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow.

“Anyone tell you you’re an ugly sleeper?” he asked, a sickly sweet smile on his lips.

“No, I’m adorable,” you stated, trying to sit up as best as you could. “I’m taking a day off. I’m sick.” You punctuated your words with the best fake cough you could muster.

Minho looked unconvinced. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” you countered. When he raised an eyebrow you sighed in defeat. “Okay, I’m not sick. But I’m still taking a day off. If you want to argue, take it up with Newt. He’s got senior on you. And we both know you won’t miss me today.”

Minho’s breath released in a sharp burst as he contemplated your words. Finally, he let his arms fall to his side. “Fine,” he said, but raised a finger to point at you. “But you better have a damn good reason as to why you’re staying here today.”

You shot him a smile. “A damn good reason.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. “I will miss you, by the way,” he called over his shoulder. Then, he added, with a smug smirk, “Sweetheart.”

It was then your turn to roll your eyes as a bark of laughter forced itself out your throat. You rubbed your face from sleep, trying to get rid of your sluggishness. As you were already awake, you figured you could just as well get up to meet Newt a little earlier. It wouldn’t be long until the rest of the Gladers woke up, anyway.

Minho and the rest of the Runners were already by the Maze’s walls. You could see their figures in the distance as the gates started to open with a loud rumble, one that you could feel shaking the earth beneath your feet. You shook your head and stretched your limbs, feeling them pop and crack individually. Minho liked to be up and early with his runs, but you were glad to get a day off to rest. You turned to your things, changing into a clean pair of clothes and put your hair up, mostly out of autonomy. Last time you would do that for a while, you figured.

Newt’s cot was among one of the empty ones, so you assumed he would have already gone to Frypan’s station to get breakfast. You made your way over there, spotting his slumped figure immediately. He jumped when you dropped down beside him, nicking an apple from his plate.

“Could you maybe get your own food for once?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow. You smiled through your amusement, slowly chewing on the fruit. You swallowed with an exaggerated motion, sending him a sickly sweet smile.

“No,” you said. He rolled his eyes while taking a mouthful of his scrambled eggs, ignoring your presence in the process.

“Remind me again why I needed to take the whole day?” you asked. “Hopefully, Minho won’t feel as murder-y when he gets back later as how he felt this morning.”

You saw the corner of his lip lift into what you imagined to be a smile. Smug bastard.

“My art takes time,” he eventually answered, turning to you. “I want it to look good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I already look good.”

“And I want you to stay that way.” Newt shot a meaningful glance at the other Gladers, which had you wincing. Some of them could benefit from a more skilful haircut, you must admit.

“Fine.”

“Besides,” he said, “it’s easier when the sun is at its highest. Less chance for me to fuck it up then.”

Newt smiled at you, but his words indicated an underlying threat, one that had you smiling back in amusement. He really loved pushing your buttons. It didn’t help that you actually were concerned about your hair being fucked up—not that you would consider yourself a vain person, but you knew how much someone’s looks could be diminished because of a bad haircut. And your thoughts ran to the dream you’d had; was it a nightmare or a premonition?

You scratched your neck, conscious of the hair touching your skin. “You know what? I’m actually not so certain about this.”

Newt sighed and pinned his gaze on you. “I see you swatting your hair away all the time,” he said, exasperation shining through annoyance. “It’s clearly annoying you.”

His words made something in you flip. “Are you saying that you notice me all the time, then?” you asked with a smug smile, unable to keep your amusement at bay for long.

He ignored your question. “I’m not going to fuck it up, mate.” When you sent him a sceptical glare he sighed again, and asked, “What are you so afraid of? Don’t you trust my skills?”

Your lips tugged in earnest for a moment, before again settling into their smug familiarity. “I guess I’m just scared you’ll find me less attractive if I cut my hair.” You blinked through your eyelashes, meeting Newt’s incredulous gaze. “I mean, what if the whole reason you like me is because of my handsome hair?”

“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed, turning to look down at his plate.

“So you admit you do find me attractive?” you chuckled.

“Never said that.”

Your lips pressed into a line, wondering if you had crossed the line that time. It took a moment to decide before opening your mouth again. “Will you still help me?”

“Of course,” he smiled at you, winking playfully. The gesture made butterflies immediately appear in your stomach and you had to look away lest he see the smile gracing your lips. He stood up from his seat, leaving the rest of his breakfast untouched, and nudged your side. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Or would you rather we wait until I get tired and the light is bad for me to slip with my shears?”

He had a point, damn him. “Fine,” you admitted, following suit and going outside with him. The sun blinded the both of you, already high in the sky. It felt strange for it to be this bright out and not being in the maze running.

Newt started walking toward the garden so you followed point, close at his heel. He picked up a pair of dirty looking shears, turning to flash you a grin. You looked at them skeptically, which he must have noticed.

“Look, they’ll get the job done, alright?”

Your eyebrow cocked. “You sure? Looks like they haven’t worked since ten years ago.”

Newt laughed dryly and nudged past you, walking the way to the woods.

“Hey, where are you going?” you asked.

“The lake. Need to get your hair wet,” he called over his shoulder.

Hmm. Sounded reasonable. You ran to keep up with him and joined him by the lake you had been swimming in the day before. The water looked even more inviting now, with the sun glittering across its surface instead of the afternoon’s deep shadows. Newt, none too gently, shoved you in the direction of it, sitting himself down by the bank.

You flashed a smile to him. “That eager to see me shirtless again?”

He rolled his eyes and reached for the water to splash it up at you. You yelped and jumped out of reach, giving him a stare full of contempt. “Just dump your ‘ead in the water, you knob.”

“Since you asked so kindly.”

You lowered your body closer to the bank, only letting your head submerge under the water. It felt cold, but not uncomfortably so. You felt a tap against your shoulder, Newt, and sprang up into sitting position. Water dripped from your hair, drenching your shirt and face. When you turned to Newt, your smile was crooked.

“Great,” he said, moving to sit behind you, shears in his hands. “Now all you have to do is keep still. Think you can do that?”

“Anything for you, Newt.”

You sighed happily and leant back, letting the sun cast its warm rays over you. You didn’t notice the moment Newt hesitated after your words, before he started drawing his fingers through your hair. All you knew was that suddenly his touch was there and it felt heavenly. You knew he only did it to measure your hair to cut it, but every time his fingers brushed against your scalp shivers erupted across your spine. You almost had the mind to close your eyes and fall asleep right then and there, with Newt almost caressing you. You imagined those same fingers running down from your head, touching the skin over your neck, brushing past your abdomen and squeezing your thighs. Even the thought of it made your breath hitch and you kept still to keep him from noticing anything amiss. Slowly and carefully, he worked, cutting methodically. You cracked an eye open, trying to glance at him from the corner of it.

“How’s it going, Newt?” you asked.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled lightly, and said, “Don’t rush me.”

It was enough to make warmth travel to your cheeks and your abdomen, so you kept quiet after that and let him do his work in peace. His fingers danced closer to your skin then, trying to get to the nape of your neck and it took all your willpower not to shy away from him. Slowly, you relaxed into his hold again, numbed by the featherlight touches and breaths of air fanning over your skin when he sat too close.

And suddenly, it was all over. With one final brush of his hand, his fingers running through your hair thoroughly, he cleared his throat and moved away.

“All done,” said Newt, though it was almost a whisper.

You opened your eyes to the sight of him sitting on his folded knees and his fingers fidgeting with the shears, looking almost as if it took all his power to concentrate on his breathing. You smiled, raising an eyebrow, and ran your own hand through your hair. It felt lighter, and smooth, and you hadn’t realised how much of a relief it was to be gone with the length.

“How do I look?” you asked, meeting his eye.

“Good.”

“Better than before?”

Newt shrugged and stood up. “Good, like always.”

Your lips quirked into a mischievous smile. “You think I’m good looking?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffed, but you could definitely see a redness spreading across his cheeks. He tried to turn away but you were quicker, bounding closer to him and shaking away the cutaway strands in the same movement. It was fun teasing him.

“You’re the one who said it!” you exclaimed.

“Oi, stop being difficult,” he settled his glare on you.

“I’m not.”

He shot you a look, one that told you he was trying to stay annoyed but secretly enjoying your antics. “You are,” he said while turning in the way to the rest of the Glade, shears hanging loosely from his grip.

You ripped your gaze from his long fingers, the image of them making your mind return to how you had wanted him to touch you earlier, and instead ran to keep up with his steps. You could sense the smile hiding in the corner of his lip, almost like a sixth sense, determined to bring it out. So, eyebrows lifted in a suggestive expression, you saddled closer to his side and said, “But you like a challenge, right—so why are you complaining?”

The gaze Newt responded with could only be described as filled with disbelief, and something else—something mischievous. “So now you’re a challenge, hm?” he asked, his eyebrows disappearing behind the ruffles of his hair.

You frowned and tilted your head at him. “Hey! Are you calling me easy?”

“Well, if the haircut fits…” he trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence up to your active imagination.

“Now that’s just plain rude,” you muttered, lowering your gaze to the ground to avoid any missteps in the uncertain terrain of the Glade’s woods.

“I’m so very sorry, mate,” said Newt, without much conviction. You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic tone and noticed the flashing smile that was then all too visible on his face. “How can I make it up to you?”

“You can start by not calling me ‘mate’,” you retorted, not thinking through your words except to win this ‘argument’.

Newt glanced at you. “And what would you rather me call you?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze, while all too aware of what he was trying to get you to admit. But you were comfortable with the dance you and him were engaged in. It had been going on for so long that you had forgotten how to not do it with him. It was easier to keep dancing with him, to keep the illusion of a ballroom couple perfect rather than to quiet the orchestra and run from your Prince Charming. Newt seemed to sense where your thoughts had run to, as he tried to meet your gaze.

“You sure about that?” he asked sceptically.

“Er, yeah?”

Newt was way too good at reading you and would not believe any excuses you tried to make, however convincing they may be. You both despised and admired him for it. He stopped you in your tracks with a hand across your midriff; the feel of his fingers pressing against your skin, even through the shirt, made shivers travel down your spine. The hand quickly retreated as he tried searching your eyes.

“I—,” he started, voice unsteady. He cleared his throat to regain his composure as you waited for him, arms crossed, trying to keep up the charade any way you could. “I think you’d rather me call you ‘good looking’. Or ‘handsome’. Or ‘pretty’. Or what about ‘love’, hm?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth traveling up your neck to rush to your cheeks. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” he said, an eyebrow raised from the very obvious tremor in your voice.

“Are you teasing me, Newt?” you asked incredulously.

Newt flashed you a smug smile and shrugged, looking away bashfully. “Got to be my turn to do it sometime,” he said.

You were used to you teasing him and poking fun, but he always took it in stride and seldom flirted back—which was what this had somehow turned into. If you’d known you two would end up flirting because of him cutting your hair you never would have agreed to his help—or maybe you still would have. Either way, there was no escaping it now. Fuck it, you thought. A frustrated groan seethed through your pressed lips as you threw your hands up in exasperation.

“You know what? Fine,” you said, meeting Newt’s gaze defiantly. “Yes, I’d like to be called all of those things. And I would like to call you all of those things.” You paused to then search Newt’s gaze, but he just stared at you in stunned silence and made no attempt to answer, so you kept going, albeit slightly more hesitant. “I—I want to hold you, to touch you, embrace you in the way that simple friends shouldn’t do. I’d like to whisper into your ear at night how much you brighten my days and make this shucking life worth living. Most of all, I would like to call you mine.”

You paused again to inhale deeply, your breathing shallow after your rant. It had driven your emotions to the surface so well you might as well have been wearing your feelings on your sleeve, ready to hand out romantic professions for anyone bothering to glance your way.

You hadn’t noticed how warm your cheeks had suddenly gotten, and made to move away while muttering, “There—I’ve said it. Let’s just go.”

“Wait—no—” Newt shouted, throwing out his arm to grab your wrist.

He pulled you back into him, making you lose balance, and a moment later his lips had closed over yours. The surprised gasp that had escaped your lips was quieted by his kiss and you quickly melted into his embrace. Immediately, his fingers closed over your nape, taking hold of your now-short hair and drawing you even closer. You could feel him pressing himself closer in whatever way he could manage, one hand tugging at your hair and the other clawing at your waist. Each individual touch sent sparks of warmth and cold over your skin as your hands closed over his jaw and throat. Even your imagination couldn’t have predicted how he would feel, how his body would fit against yours and make you want to never breathe again if it meant you could stay with him, like this, forever.

Finally, you had to pull away to suck in a deep breath of air, Newt trailing after and barely letting you go. You couldn’t fight the chuckle that forced its way out nor the grin that spread over your lips. Neither could he, as you saw his blushing face break out in a beam and his eyes jumping all over your face. It made you painfully aware of yourself and you bowed your head to settle against the crook of his neck, bashful in spite of your close contact. His hands were still holding onto your waist and kept your body pressed against him.

“Don’t get shy now,” he chided, though his tone was light and his fingers were rubbing slow circles across your back.

Despite the warm sun that glared over the pair of you, his gesture made a shiver crawl up your spine and you pulled away to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “Really, you’re calling me shy?” He nodded to your question. “I’m shy when you’re here— Have you completely forgotten who’s always bold and teases and openly flirts with you?”

Newt scoffed, drawing his hands over the small of your back. “Well, maybe I stole your boldness when I kissed you.”

You almost couldn’t believe him. His cheeks were already flushed, but burned even brighter when your hand pressed against his neck to pull him in again, forcefully pressing your lips against his and claiming his tongue as yours. In doing so, you swallowed his surprised gasp with your kiss, but he didn’t manage to suppress the moan when you took his bottom lip between your teeth and bit lightly. It made you smile smugly, pulling away immediately to look upon his bright red face and dazed expression.

“Who’s shy now, hm?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping out of his hold.

Newt shot you an angry glance, but it was difficult to take him seriously when he was also blushing furiously. He decided to leave it at that and with not much dignity, pick up the shears he had dropped and started walking back towards the huts. Again, you had to run after him with laughter playing on your lips. You could tell he wasn’t really annoyed, but it was easy to slip back in the comfortable dance of your relationship.

You wouldn’t let him pretend like all of this had not happened, though. He looked at you in surprise when your hand sought out his own, fingers intertwining and closing over his. You smiled back, feeling a slight burning at the tip of your ears, but he leant in and placed a light kiss that made you wish for more again, which eased your nervousness.

“Guess we’re both a little shy, huh,” he remarked. You just shrugged, looking ahead to the opening of the forest, but the smile still apparent on your lips.

“And where the fuck have you two been?” cried Alby’s voice as soon as you stepped out of the trees.

Immediately, you felt as if you jumped out of your skin and let go of Newt’s hand, his cheeks burning as much as yours did. You scratched the back of your neck and glanced sheepishly at Newt, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes; neither of you could fight the smiles that broke out on both your faces.

“On your head be it, you said,” you smirked, slipping away from his indignant eyebrow raise.

You left Newt to deal with Alby alone with a playful wink, to which he only shook his head and hid his smile as he faced the approaching commander. You had half a mind to skip away with the happiness that were bubbling through you, but managed to contain yourself to walking away with a steady pace, though you couldn’t keep your thoughts from running back to the memory of Newt against you nor the smile that followed.

END NOTE ➢ I do have an idea for a part two should anyone be interested in it. Hope you enjoyed this!

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unrealisticallyyours · 3 days

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alby seems like the kind of guy to take pictures of himself like a facebook dad. like he's just staring at the phone camera with a blank expression at a like 45° angle

#the maze runner #tmr #maze runner #tmr alby

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bellzsad · 7 months

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“but from the moment you ran into that maze i knew i would follow you anywhere. and i have. we all have.”

- newt, from maze runner: the death cure

#tmr #the maze runner #maze runner #tmr aris #tmr gally #tmr brenda #tmr thomas #tmr teresa #incorrect tmr quotes #tmr frypan #tmr alby #tmr jorge #brenda tmr #tmr newt #tmr minho #newtmas #the death cure #tdc #the scorch trials

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crazysheeplyca · 1 year

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Gally following Y/n : Y/n come back here I am trying to have a shucking serious conversation with you!

Y/n walking faster : And I am trying to avoid it !

Newt looking at them : Alby how do you you manage to have a serious and peaceful talk with them ?

Alby sipping on his drink : Bold of you to assume I'm leaving them any choice

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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year

Note

I would like to request headcanons for the maze runner boys for how would they react when they're jealous of you.

Luv you <3

Wooo, I love writing headcanons, they're a hell of a lot easier than full stories. I'm assuming you mean when they're jealous over you, so that's what I'm going with.

Gender neutral reader because the pronouns are unspecified.

Also I have seen your request for a part 2 to "warmth in cold places" and I will do that after I've finished your headcanon requests because it'll be simpler lol, hope that's okay.

ENVY IS A SIN

MASTERLIST | MULTI-CHARACTER MASTERLIST

SUMMERY: See above. Gender-neutral!Reader x All boys. Not established relationships, just long-term crushes from some jealous boys. You're close with the boys, and despite them not knowing how you feel- they just can't help but be jealous.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some possessiveness, violence and suggestive themes. Alby is based more on the book to add some variety.

What happens when your favourite Glader boys get jealous over you?

Let's find out.

THOMAS

Thomas is definitely a... controversial character amongst the Glade.

Which means that the Gladers (especially Gally and the other's that don't hold his favour), would often flirt with you just to get a rise out of him.

It's not like you two are dating or anything, but he'd clearly have a thing for you.

And he's not exactly the most self-assured person around. Yanno- with the identity crisis, no memories of his life, people accusing him of everything under the sun- you get the picture.

The boy already has enough insecurities on his plate- nevermind watching the person he has feelings for get hit on.

He's not exactly one to start physical altercations, but it wouldn't be rare to feel his 500-yard death stare from across the Glade.

"Gally's talking to them again."

Newt would get to hear the worst of Thomas's internal conflicts.

He'd find it funny, but kind of annoying.

"They're just talkin', mate- it ain't a crime."

"He's doing it to get to me. I know he is."

"Seems to be workin'."

"Shut up."

Despite not wanting to get into a fight, Thomas would occasionally butt into conversations.

He can be sarcastic, something he's picked up off of Minho (but not nearly as good at), and he would be snappy and condescending when diving face first into trying to steal your attention.

Which would leave you concerned as you'd have to blankly watch Thomas bicker with someone in a way you can't quite understand.

Thomas isn't stupid.

He'd be fully aware he has no right to be so jealous or meddling, but until he actually gains the courage to say something about his feelings, you better get used to it.

NEWT

Newt is far more level-headed than Thomas.

He is respectful and busy, remaining calm in the majority of situations he has to face.

Though, like Thomas, he would absolutely be the type to stand with a tense jaw, staring while you interact with some poor, unknowing boy as Newt plots murder in his head.

Newt is confident in his skills, and doesn't have much time to focus on romantic endeavours. But there would be the creeping feeling of possessiveness as he'd watch you talk to the other boys.

He'd prefer to talk to the culprit in private, giving them a warning nod to keep their distance.

"I'm telling you to stay away from them."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

It wouldn't go much further than that.

The boys heed Newt's warnings- despite his reputation, he isn't exactly someone people want to upset.

Alby and Minho would find it very funny that the only time Newt chooses to actually use the power he has is when it comes to scaring people away from you.

"You're literally the Second in Command, and the only time you actually tell people what to do is when you get all shuckin' possessive over a crush? Ha! That's the best thing I've ever heard."

"Shut up, Minho."

When you'd bring it up to him that less and less people are talking to you, he would just shrug it off.

Of course, Minho would absolutely tell you what's actually going on because he can't keep his mouth shut, but you can only knowingly smile until Newt is willing to finally tell you himself.

MINHO

Minho is a reckless and unsubtle man.

He lives with his life on the line permanently, and is pretty blunt about most things.

He would absolutely tell you to your face that he doesn't like someone, or how they're acting around you.

"I just don't like what Zart said earlier- he's gettin' too shuckin' friendly."

He'd also go out of his way to be physically intimidating and make himself look better than whoever his competitor is.

That includes but is not exclusive to:

- Knocking shoulders with people who are talking to you.

- Loud (and obnoxious) insults aimed at anyone who dares get too close.

- The more than once he'd almost get into a physical fight.

- Casually throwing an arm over your shoulder to assert dominance.

He'd also be a sulky bitch.

Minho doesn't seem like the type to be good with his feelings, so apart from the initial rage, confrontation, and warnings- he would strop.

He'd have no grounds to, and Newt would remind him of that since you guys aren't dating.

But that wouldn't stop him.

"Dude, if you keep pouting like a shank, they're never gonna like you back."

"I'm not pouting."

He'd get over it, eventually.

Minho isn't an insecure person. He'd know there were something more between you both. The problem would lie in whether he'd be the only person you had that something with.

That is why he would sulk.

Because deep down, you'd be almost like a weak spot for him.

Though, it would kind of become a sort of unspoken rule not to flirt with you- after all, no one wants an angry Minho after them.

GALLY

Gally is like Minho, only ten times worse and borderline homicidal.

There would be many Gladers who would show up with broken noses and a nervous disposition after they'd be seen talking to you.

(And Gally with broken knuckles.)

He's terrible at controlling his feelings and expressing them in a healthy way.

He would be especially harsh if he saw someone making you uncomfortable.

"I'm going to shucking kill that bastard!"

Frypan would make comical commentary.

"Y'all still aren't together then, huh?"

"Shut up, Fry."

"Ah- figures."

He would also be incredibly insecure.

Sure, he's not the most liked guy around, but he thought you guys were close. That he might have a chance with you.

So, instead of having a healthy conversation with you about maybe establishing a relationship, he would react in a rash way.

Which would definitely not be a good way to show he cares about you.

But the boy has issues.

Alby would absolutely get mad at him and tell him to stop.

He'd then start insulting people instead.

FRYPAN

Frypan would probably...

Do nothing.

Nope.

He doesn't like conflict and despite being a jokester, he doesn't actually want to cause any problems.

And he's not about to go around bashing people when he doesn't even know if the feeling is mutual (*cough* something the other boys can learn from *cough*).

He'd probably keep his mouth shut and try to judge things from spending time with you.

He might talk to Gally about it.

"You could just ask them?"

"Would you ask them if you were me?"

"Fair point."

He'd definitely just silently simmer in his own emotions whilst staring off into space.

Though, when he'd be with you- you'd have absolutely no idea he was jealous or possessive at all.

He would never do anything to upset you.

He'd definitely lie awake at night thinking about it and how you might like someone else and what would he even do with himself?

But he'd never tell you.

Or show you.

Your happiness always comes first.

ALBY

Alby would throw them in the Slammer.

Wouldn't even hesitate.

Looked at you for too long?

Slammer.

Made a flirty comment?

Slammer.

Bad and slightly inappropriate joke?

Slammer.

He is a very busy man. He doesn't have the time to keep an eye on you all the time, so, putting anyone who crosses a line in the Slammer would definitely make that easier.

"Why's Ben in the Slammer again, Alby?"

"Why do you think, Newt?"

"Ah, (Y/N)? Again?"

It's not like Alby is insecure or even possessive.

He has much more important things that he needs to worry about.

But, watching people try and flirt with you would make him uncomfortable, and Alby has no time to process this discomfort.

So it obviously means that they're doing something wrong, right?

So, Slammer.

It is the simplist answer.

You'd have to ask him to stop because he'd keep locking your friends up.

He would begrudgingly agree.

Though, people definitely would not dare hit on you once they started to understand that Alby liked you.

That'd be an easy way to a fast grave.

In reality, Alby wouldn't have any reason to be jealous- he is the Leader for a reason.

He probably could've just told people to back off with no context, and they would've, instead of the immediate jailing.

It would be a very odd phase for the Glade.

Yoo, back with more headcanons. I try not to take these too seriously because I feel like they're just a bit of fun instead of the usual one-shots.

I have some more headcanons coming up next.

I hope you enjoyed :))

#🌿 petri writes tmr #🌿 petri writes #🍃 petri tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #minho tmr #minho the maze runner #minho tmr x reader #tmr imagines #minho maze runner #tmr newt #newt the maze runner #thomas the maze runner #tmr thomas #tmr fandom #tmr gally #tmr alby

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just--a--random--human--being · 1 month

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Help!!!

My brother just watched The Maze Runner with me and:

First he said "Newt and Thomas are definetly dating"

Then he said "Nope, Minho and Thomas are dating"

And then he said "and Newt and Alby are also dating"

MY LITTLE BROTHER SHIPS NALBY AND THOMINHO

#the maze runner #maze runner #tmr #tmr alby #alby tmr #tmr newt #newt tmr #nalby #tmr thomas #thomas tmr #newtmas #tmr minho #minho tmr #thominho

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tmrsunset · 1 year

Photo

the maze barbie

#the maze runner #tmr #tmr thomas #tmr chuck #tmr newt #tmr alby #tmr minho #tmr frypan #tmr teresa #tmr gally #the quotes are from the barbie website because i'm too tired to think of my own but i might do that too one of these days #anyway how are yall loving this trend because i'm obsessed #if you couldn't tell

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bri-the-fando-meister · 11 months

Text

You're Safe With Me

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

Minho x reader female

Summary: Minho is out on a daily run to map the maze and he finds a girl trapped in the maze, on her own, with no sign of how she got there. Minho takes her back to the glade, and looks after her for her first night.

Word count: 1950

Read time : 13 minutes

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

Cool rock on your face, littered with debris. Nice and relaxing coolness, want to sleep. Dust filling air, hard to breathe, want to cough, dry throat, can't cough. Constant thump, distant and mesmerizing. Loud breathing, mine or someone else's?

"I want sleep, but where am I?" you croak, burning your throat as you speak. You opened your eyes.

Walls, tall and ancient , ivy covered walls, three walls surrounding you, one long corridor. Trapped, your chest felt tight and you found it hard to breathe.

You got up and walked toward the end of the corridor and saw two exits, you took a step back, hide.

The thumps got louder, closer and closer. And heavy breathing followed it. Someone was there. Who. Maybe it's a person.

I should check. But I am scared. I should check. My chest is tight again.

Dizzy, spinning walls, the dirt is flying. Must. Check. Now. Sit down before I fall. Yell out, now sitting, I am safe.

"Help me! Where am I?" you croaked half yelling.

"Who are you, where are you? How did you get in here? I am going to find you." a voice replied.

"O-ok"

"just stay where you are." it ordered

You were sitting too close to the entryway of your corridor. So that's when he saw you and you saw him, he kind of, almost, maybe ran into you.

He lowered his body to match your height and reached one of his arms to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, you flinched.

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay. You are safe now. Let's get you out of here and get you some food and water." the boy spoke gently "You are safe with me."

He hooked his arm over your shoulders and using his free hand, he held onto your hands.

"It's okay, you are safe, I promise"

"I get that I am safe but, but are there more of you? Like, more people?"

"Yeah, there are more people, they are all great people."

"Okay then, keep them away from me. By the way, what is your name?"

"My name? Minho. I am Minho"

"Okay Minho, I don't want to meet your friends."

You stopped walking, you understood he was taking you to them.

"I know that you are scared, but please, you need to keep moving. How about you, what is your name?"

"Y/n"

After an hour of walking and being dragged, you had arrived to a point where there was a break in the walls, leading out to a grassy square, filled with boys running about, working.

You hid around a corner, "No, I am not going." It didn't faze Minho as he walked into the grassy place and yelled.

"Alby! I am back!" a boy came running to Minho

"Newt, where's Alby? I need to show him something"

"Sorry Minho, he can't come, he is dealing with something important at the moment."

"Okay then Newt, if you say so. You are going to want to see this."

Minho began leading the boy assumably called Newt to your location, you told him you didn't want to meet anyone else.

"Minho, NO, I told you I didn't want to meet your stupid friends"

"Minho, who the shuck said that?"

"Ahhh, does Alby's important business have something to do with no greenie being in the box when it came up?" you poked your head around the corner to listen in.

"Yeah....."

"Well, Newt. I found our greenie in the middle of the maze." He gestured foy you to come to him.

"Come on darling, it's okay. This is Newt, he is really nice. Remember, I promised that you would be safe with me." Newt waved.

You began to slowly walk to the two boys, when you got there you grabbed Minho's arm and hugged it closely for comfort, he looked down at you and swilled a warm smile.

"Minho, I want you to come back with me, I feel safe in there, come back with me." you began to tug his arm, but his tall muscular build made it impossible to move him. After giving up you just walked back into the walls, Minho followed. Newt yelled to him. "Minho, you have like, 30 seconds to get out."

"Look, you need to get out of here, it isn't safe in here, you could die on your own."

"Minho, Get out now!" Newt yelled

"I am sorry, but you have to move"

"10-9" Minho picked you up and began to run "8-7-6-5" a few meters left to the grass "4-3" A giant gust of wind "2" you fell out of Minho's arms and landed on the grass "1" BANG!

"You still want to be in there now? You could have died for shuck sake. What were you thinking?" Newt was yelling at you. You began to cry, you didn't like yelling.

Yelling hurt, you couldn't quite connect the dots but, you remembered when you were yelled at, you would get hit.

You cowered, bracing for impact through heavy sobs. "Please don't hit me. Please don't. Don't hit me. Don't yell. What did I do wrong. I am sorry. Just hit me."

You cried so hard and found it hard to breathe, "Just hit me already, I am used to it. Sorry for being a burden."

When you didn't get hit you decided to see what was happening, so you turned your head. When you turned around you saw Minho having a go at Newt because of what he did. Newt pointed at you and spoke to Minho "You might want to talk to her, calm her down"

"Hey, hey. It's okay" he sat down on the grass with you, you were curled up in a loose ball so he wrapped himself around you. Giving you a warm hug.

"Do you want me to just be here, or do you want me to comfort you?"

"Both." you said, in broken sobs "I don't think that I like Newt."

"I get that you might not like him but, he was yelling out of concern, you could have died today, and he was very worried about you."

"I know, I, I just remember that whenever I got yelled at, I would be hit until I couldn't feel it anymore. Yelling hurts, I don't like it"

"He is sorry, I already talked to him, he didn't know that that triggered you."

"Okay, it was just a bit scary."

"I know, it's okay now. I promise, you are safe. Also, meet Alby, he is our leader."

"Hey there greenie, I see you have already made close friends with my best man."

"How long have you been watching?"

"I have been standing there since I heard you bawling your eyes out. Sorry about Newt, he was just really worried about you, he always is worried about the green-beans. By the way, what's your name?"

"Y/n, that's my name."

"Well then Y/n, we are going to need to find you some sleeping arrangements, it is already dark."

"Okay, where can I sleep?"

"We have some huts, some of the guys already sleep in them, the most important ones at least. Lucky Minho has one. And we have some hammocks outside the homestead. Your choice."

"Minho, can I sleep in your hut? I can take the floor if you want."

"Uhh, sure. If you really want to, I will take the floor though."

"Well, Y/n, now you have sleeping arrangements you'd be best to go have a sleep, you have had a rough day. We will need to talk in the morning so we can set a few boundaries."

Minho helped pull you up off of the ground.

"Let's go, I will show you my hut." he smiled so warmly that you couldn't help but calm down a bit.

He hooked his arm around your waist and walked you away to his hut.

"Here we are Y/n, this is my hut, just let me unlock it" he fumbled around his pocket for his keys and finally fished them out. when he unlocked it you got a strong smell of woodiness and a bit of boy funk, but it was quite comforting.

The room was about three meters by three meters, not too big but big enough to have his bed and chair in there.

He pushed the chair into the corner and placed a sleeping bag on the floor. He made the bed and pulled all the sheets back into place and put the pillow back on the bed. It wasn't much but it was his hut, it had bits of paper strewn everywhere and had notes scrawled on them.

He pointed to the bed "Sleep, you need it"

"But, what about you, you don't need to sleep on the floor."

"I can sleep in the sleeping bag, I say you sleep on the bed, so do it."

You got into his bed and curled up under his covers. The smell of them were so comforting. You couldn't sleep though, you felt too vulnerable, you could be hit while you were asleep, nightmares could come.

After what felt like hours of tossing and turning you finally gave up trying to sleep, you were too scared.

"Minho, are you still awake"

"Yeah, what's up Y/n? To busy wanting to talk to me than sleep hey?" Minho was half-asleep, he spoke groggily, he sounded like he was drunk.

"I can't sleep, I am too scared, I don't want to be here."

Minho got up and sat on the end of the bed.

"Look, you need to go to sleep, it isn't healthy being awake for too long. What can I do to help you sleep?"

"I don't know, I don't feel safe, what if Newt comes and yells again, and hits me this time?" You sat up. "I don't want to be alone."

"You aren't alone Y/n, how about I sit next to you until you fall asleep. Do you think that would help?"

"O-ok. Thanks"

"Would you mind scooching over though, so I can sit next to you."

"Yeah, sure." you shuffled over so that you were a bit closer to the wall.

Minho stood up and walked towards your end of the bed and sat down, well actually, more like he fell. "Sorry Y/n, just tripped on my shucking rubbish"

He pulled the covers off of you and shifted his body down so that he was lay next to you. Then he pulled the covers back onto both of you.

"Thanks Minho, I, I just don't feel safe here, or anywhere. It's like I am missing something."

Minho began to fiddle with your hair.

"You know Y/n, I think that you are overreacting. And you also need a hug"

Minho forced his arm under your back and pulled you into his warm chest, embracing you, comforting you. "Remember, I told you that you are safe with me"

"Minho, thankyou, thanks for making me feel safe, making me feel like I am worth it."

"Anytime Y/n, but maybe next time, do what you're told, you could have died today, if it weren't for Newt, I wouldn't have gotten you out in time."

"He's still scary though" you mumbled, groggily.

The warmth of Minho's chest was comforting, soothing and relaxing. You were in just the right spot to listen to his heartbeat, it was almost as mesmerizing as his footsteps when he was running.

"Y/n, I understand that, but I will keep you safe, I will protect you. so go to sleep now, I will too, I am already too comfy to go back to my sleeping bag."

You chuckled.

"Okay Minho, goodnight" then you were out like a light.

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260 notes · View notes