The Homestead

The Homestead

The Homestead (Newt x Reader)

Word Count: 369 words

Warnings: cuddling, kissing, very cringy and sappy writing from me.

Summary: when you have to sleep in the homestead to be safe from the grievers, you find yourself close to a particular blond boy

(Warning: this is very sappy, viewer discretion is advised)

you lie on the floor of the homestead. the boys small snores and the grievers clicking outside, are the only sounds you hear.

turning over, you see the boy you had talked to only hours before, as you planned to sleep next to each other.

you shiver a little as a draft drifts through the boards of the homestead. drawing one of Newt’s jumpers, that he had insisted on lending you, more tightly around you, you see the blond boys eyes flit open.

you look into those dark eyes, as he reaches out a hand. taking it, you put it up by your cheek, not taking your eyes off his.

he inches closer and you let him until your foreheads are touching. stroking your hand with his thumb, he puts his other hand in your hair.

he twirls it in his fingers gently, moving into you and brushing your nose with his lips. you smile and he returns it.

this time you move in and as you press your lips lightly against his, you feel his mouth turn up into a smile.

you feel your chest flutter as he pulls back and looks at you with warmth in his dark eyes.

you pull him closer and wrap your arms around him. he puts his head next to your ear and breathes, “we’ll be out of here before you know it love”

“I wouldn’t mind staying here for a little longer.” you smile at him and see a wide grin spreading across his face, even in the dark.

you move closer together so you’re pressed up against each other.

and then you’re kissing again, more passionately than you can remember. you hold his arm that wraps around you.

he whispers to you, soft strings all slurring into a warm hum in your head.

you hear an annoyed voice, “can you two lovebirds keep it down, some of us,” Minho stresses the word ‘some’, “are trying to sleep.”

“Sorry” Newt say, but he doesn’t sound at all sorry.

Minho grumbles something about there being a time and a place as he turns over.

you press your forehead against the boys and he closes his eyes, sighing quietly.

“Good night y/n”

“Goodnight”

Lucky

Lucky (Newt x Reader)

Word Counter: 688 words

Warnings: hugging, mention of Newt’s incident, injury, mild violence.

Summary: you feel resentment of Newt, thinking he was so lucky, but you had no idea how wrong you were.

you sit apart from the crowd, resting on a log, a book propped open on your lap. your best friend, Thomas, sits beside you, occasionally looking over your shoulder at what you’re reading. a boy walks past you and you stiffen.

hearing a small exasperated sigh, you turn to face your friend, “what?”

“Nothing”

“It’s obviously not nothing”

he rests his elbows on his knees, looking after the boy that had just joined the others. “Why do you hate Newt?”

“I don’t-“

“Y/n, don’t try and deny it, it’s obvious”

you narrow your eyes at the back of the boy’s blond head.

“He’s so lucky”

Thomas raises his eyebrows. you cross your arms, “I don’t see how he became second in command, surely someone like Minho would be way better for the job.”

sighing, Thomas keeps his eyes on the crowd. you press on, “he barely does any work, why isn’t he a runner, he seems perfectly capable of it. he just lazes around in the gardens all day while you, me and Minho work our butts off.”

you slap the book closed, not interested in it anymore. “I’m going to bed.”

you walk over to your hut, still in a bad mood. it’s not until you reach the door of your hut when you notice the second pair of quiet footsteps behind you.

you whip around and see Newt standing behind you. “Go away, I’m not in the mood”

he doesn’t answer, just looks at you. “Go!”

“Y/n, why are you angry at me, what did I do wrong?” he sounds confused with hurt and coldness edging his voice.

“Nothing, now leave me alone”

he doesn’t move, just looks at you in a mix of pity and sadness. you feel a flare of anger and walk straight up to him, until the two of you are inches away from each other.

“I said leave, I’m not going to ask again”

“y/n-“

you shove him hard, sending him tumbling on the grass.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” you shout at him so loudly that a crowd starts to gather around the two of you.

the end of one of Newt’s trousers legs has slid up his leg and you see several awkward bends in his ankle that you have never noticed before.

“what happened to your leg?”

“Nothing” Newt hastily pulls down the leg of his trousers.

“It looks broken”

“It’s nothing.” he stands up and begins walking away.

“I can’t believe you. and you wonder why I hate you” you add in a mumble.

Newt spins around to face you, his face angry, with a shadow masking his usually gentle features.

“You wonder why I’m not a runner. huh? you wonder why I ‘laze around in the gardens’.” he pulls up his trouser leg, showing the unnatural bends again.

“I was a runner. I was a runner until this stopped me. now I’m stuck with this leg. I wish I could keep running. but I bloody can’t.” his voice rises steadily.

“next time before you hate someone, get to know them first.”

he lets his trouser leg drop and walks away, now that you thought about it, with a small limp.

silence rings in your ears and you look around at the faces. all either shocked, angry or confused.

you sprint around the back of your hut, away from the staring. tears prick your eyes as you start sprinting towards the disappearing shadow of the boy.

when you get close enough you slam into him, hugging him tightly. he stumbles slightly, but catches himself. turning to look at you, you see the cold look on his face melt as he sees tears streaming down you face.

“I’m sorry”

he takes your cheeks in his hands and wipes away the tears with his thumbs. “It’s alright,” he pulls you into him, hugging you, “you’re alright.”

you stand there, hugging in the moonlight, voices echoing in the distance behind you. burying your face in his neck, you feel tears drop slowly down your face as you take shaky breaths.

“It’s alright.” Newt’s voice whispers soothingly in your ear, “I’ve got you.”

(Btw, I’m on holiday so if my upload schedule is a bit wacky, that’s why, there isn’t much signal here)

Golden

Golden (newt x gn!reader)

Word Count: 529 (sorry it’s so short)

Warnings: hints at being naked

Summary: the boy told you to wake him at sunrise but you find yourself not wanting to.

the golden light of the sun peers over the gigantic walls, turning the sky a honey colour.

you stand in the doorway of the hut, wondering what to do. Newt had told you last night to wake him if he wasn’t up by sunrise, but the peaceful look on his face made you not want to.

the yellow light of the sun shines onto his face, turning his hair, which was growing fast and covering part of his face, a beautiful golden colour. it rustles with every steady breath giving it a feeling of being alive.

freckles splash his pale face making it look as though small fireflies dance across his cheeks and nose.

his thin pink lips are turned up in a small smile, no doubt he was dreaming of a better place than here.

but that was not the only reason that you do not wish to wake him. he looked so relaxed and content that a soft yellow glow seemed to emanate from him, only another thing that made him look like an angelic, ethereal being.

you walk slowly into the room, not wanted to rouse the sleeping boy, but knowing you have to.

“Newt.” you breathe, half hopping that he won’t wake.

he groans a little and curls further into the hammock.

“Newt.” you move closer to him, brushing hair his from his closed eyelids. his blond eyelashes flutter and he opens them, showing slightly bleary chocolate irises.

“y/n? what are you doing here?” he runs a hand through his hair, unsticking strands of it from his face.

“you told me to wake me up at sunrise.” you roll your eyes, chuckling slightly.

“Yeah well…” he pauses for a moment, “thanks”

you smile, “you better get out of bed.”

he groans again, burying his face in a pillow before resurfacing and swinging his legs over the side of the hammock.

“I’ll leave while you get dressed.”

“I don’t mind if you stay.”

“nice try,” you smirk and kiss him on the cheek, “I’ll be waiting outside.”

after a minute or two, Newt slips out of the hut, looking much less exhausted. the two of you walk across towards the hall where Frypan’s kitchen attached to the hall where the gladers ate.

the golden sky was now splashed with blue, and the sun was higher, sitting serenely on the gigantic walls.

swift footsteps run towards you, and you turn to see Thomas skid to a stop next to the blond boy.

“you two getting breakfast?” he doesn’t wait for an answer, “that’s nice. listen,” he lowers his voice even though there are no other people around, “Alby needs you Newt, he wants all the keepers and well you,” he adds somewhat apologetically, “to meet him in the map room.”

Newt looks back at you and your mouth tilts into a smile, “I think I’ll be alright eating breakfast by myself for once.”

he smiles and follows Thomas towards the map room, leaving you to watch them for a moment before spinning on your heel and making your way towards the large hall. wondering all the way, what Newt would have to tell you when he returned.

(Sorry it’s short and rubbish, I have writers block, whoop whoop 🎉)

Welcome to the scorch

Welcome to the scorch (Newt x Reader)

Word Count: 588 words

Warning: cuddling, mentions of death

Summary: getting through the scorch is less than easy and it leaves you questioning if the ‘safe haven’ is even real.

you cup your hands over your eyes, squinting in the sun. after the storm, you had lost most of the quilts in the strong wind.

therefore the precious few you did have, had been dispersed and shared. the shape of Minho and Thomas’ sheet, bobbing up and down, was visible in front of you.

looking sideways at the boy you were sharing a quilt with, you see Newt’s head jerking sideways to look fixedly ahead.

it was obvious he had just been looking at you or past you. you hitch the white sheet higher into the air, wincing as your aching arms give a particularly painful throb.

with each step, your feet sink into the sand, making you have to kick the annoyingly small grains out of your shoes every few seconds until you accepted that you would never be free of the sand.

the scorch stretches on forever. you have to stop yourself from groaning. how did they even know if the safe haven wasn’t just a sick joke of WICKED’s?

your feet sink deeper into the sand, and as you try and pull them out you fall, face first into the dune.

spitting sand out of your mouth, you raise your head at a worried voice. “Are you alright.”

the blond boy stands above you, one hand extended. you take it and he pulls you to your feet.

“Stupid sand”

he smiles, “welcome to the scorch.” you continue walking after the others.

“so what do you think about this whole safe haven thing.” you look sideways at Newt and he looks back at you.

“Might as well try, it’s either die trying, or sit here and wait to be eaten by cranks.”

you nod. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s gonna be this easy. WICKED put us through hell, and now they’re just going to let us get a cure, this easily.”

“We’re tracking across a desert, we lost many friend in that storm. I wouldn’t call this easy.”

the glaring orange sky starts turning steadily to black and finally Minho stops and turns towards the group.

“Alright everyone, stop here and try and get some sleep.”

several people collapse onto the sand, massaging their aching feet. most huddle together under their quilts as a cold wind starts blowing across the dunes.

you sit down on the sand and wrap the quilt more tightly around you and Newt. lying down, you curl up, trying to keep warm, and get comfortable.

looking over your shoulder, you see the boy do the same. both of you curl under the quilt like a heavy white tent.

you shiver a little as cold air drifts under the folds. turning over you see Newt, knees tucked up to his chin and eyes open, swirling shapes into the sand by his head. he looks up at you and you hold each others gaze.

you slowly start shifting closer together. one second, you have your backs pressed together for warmth. the next, you have your head on Newt’s chest as he has his arms wrapped around you, stroking your hair.

after a moment or two, Newt’s breathing goes heavy. you look up into his face. his eyes are closed. you brush a stray strand of hair that is falling in his slightly open mouth. the heavy breathing of gladers and howl of the wind echo around your small tent like quilt.

you roll knot your side and fall asleep, dreaming of green fields, shadowy indistinct faces and a familiar, smiling, blond framed face…

(Just wanna say, if you wanna put in a request for a maze runner character x reader, that isn’t Newt, you can still request them. I’m happy to giving anything a go)

Sorry I haven’t been posting, I’ve had no signal for days, im gonna line up some fanfics for when I get back on Wednesday. I’m out now so I can post this and let yall know 😁

Deal

Deal (Newt x Reader)

Word Count: 1861 words

Warnings: injury, gore, blood, mentions of self harm

Summary: your worst, most terrifying memory

(I’m back with some 3k+ word fanfics that I’ll be posting soon :3)

if someone were to ask anyone what their scariest memory is, they may say multiple contenders. stormy nights, darkness, death.

but for you, there is no question, no contender.

it was one of those stories that you could only relive when clutched in Newt’s arms, where you were safest. one of those stories that still woke you at night. like most stories, the day started like any other.

you’re running, running alone, which is, granted, not normal for you, but still running as usual.

the reason for you running alone was that the person you would usually run with had gotten the morning off.

it is lonely, but you know that your friend is exhausted. black always seems to be peeking out from under his eyes, and he will often zone out when you’re talking to him.

Newt was probably resting at that moment, you thought as you run, though the last you had seen of him, he seemed to be walking in the opposite direction of the huts.

the sun, previously high in the sky, was now sinking slowly. deciding it would be a good idea to head back, you retrace your steps, trying to remember the turns you took to get where you just were. it was at one of the last turns where you heard it. a pained scream and cry for help, mingled into one horrifying symphony.

straining your ears to recognise the voice, you finally pick out Alby, sounding more worried than you had ever heard him. you start sprinting, rushing forwards and skidding to a halt when you reach the glade. your eyes scanning the area, looking for anything unusual.

the first thing you notice was that everyone seemed to be still, looking towards a point out of your field of vision. frozen, arms suspending unidentifiable objects.

you look over to your right where everyone’s eyes seem to be resting. your heart seems to drop, stopping to rest, somewhere in your stomach. two boys hobble along, arms around each other’s shoulders. one of them is leaning heavily on the other, holding his leg at an awkward angle.

the boy has sandy hair. very familiar sandy hair. “Newt!” you start running towards the pair, the second boy, now he was closer, turning out to be Alby, as you had suspected.

Newt looks up, a pained, slightly confused expression on his face. Alby doesn’t look at you, but pushes past, shouting.

“Medjack, Medjack now!” Clint and another medjack you didn’t know the name of, skid into view.

“What happened.” you bite your lip, looking at the blond boy.

Ably ignores you, pushing people out of the way in his effort to get his friend to the medjacks.

you follow the two, running to keep up with Alby, who is practically carrying Newt. “Get out of the way!” he shouts at a young boy, frozen in place. kicking open the door, Alby lays Newt on a table and the boy crys out in pain.

the medjack’s rummages around, silver instruments and bottles of strange liquids rattling in their arms. Clint approaches Newt, who was letting out small gasps of pain.

he rolls up his trouser leg gently and Newt gives a pained shout. you look down at the leg, your breakfast nearly making a reappearance.

a bloody, mangled, mess, sits where skin once was, sharp bends makes spikes in the previously straight leg.

“hold him down.” Clint puts his hands

on either side of his injured leg. you hold onto Newt’s other leg and Alby pushes his shoulders and arms down.

Newt’s pale face looks up at Clint, like a small child, that had fallen over and scraped their knee. he mouths something nobody can pick out before the medjack bends the leg back into a straight line.

and then Newt made the sound that still haunts your dreams. he screams. not the type of scream you hear in one of those horror movies. a terrible, earsplitting, glass breaking, scream.

the boy starts writhing underneath him, trying to free his other leg from your grasp. the other medjack runs forward and holds down his injured leg so Clint can dab something foul smelling onto it.

he steps back to admire his work. “it won’t heal completely, but this is the best I can do.” Clint picks up a jar and fills a syringe with the contents.

looking at Newt’s arms, he holds one down and jabs the needle into it, pressing down on the pump.

Newts wild thrashes slow, getting more and more tired until he is still.

the medjack sighs and presses a wet towel into you hand, “mop him up, will you.” you nod silently.

Alby has his hands twisted together and he looks more scared than you had ever seen him. he mutters something about finding Minho and hurries from the room.

you drag a chair up beside Newt and begin to gently mop the blood from his leg. you could feel your eyes pricking slightly, as you look into the face of the boy.

you don’t know how long you sat there. an hour, a day, perhaps several weeks. but suddenly Newt’s lips started moving. barley parting, but definitely moving.

a small rasp escapes his mouth, “y/n.” you look down at Newt, who’s lips were moving silently, eyes pressed shut.

“y/n.” he says again.

“yes. yes I’m here.” you hold onto the boy’s hand.

Newt’s eyes flutter open, looking slightly confused. “y/n?”

you nod. and Newt shakes his head.

“no. no. no you can’t be here.”

“what do you-“

“no. I’m dead. you shouldn’t be here.”

you feels your eyes prick with tears. you suck in a breath. “you’re not dead Newt, you’re alive.”

“but, I jumped. I should be dead. why am I not dead?”

your breath catches in your throat as you try to answer. swallowing, you blink away the tears in his eyes.

“you’re alright, you’re safe.”

“no. I can’t be, I don’t want to be. I-“ he stops, still looking confused.

the two of you sit in silence, “I want to be dead.”

you look at him and he blinks at you, a dazed look in his eyes. it was like he didn’t fully recognise you. his eyes were swimming and you could almost see, in your inner eye, the pale boy in front of you, jumping, ending it all.

it was too much. you feel the tears dripping down your cheeks. twisting the blood soaked towel in your hands you bow your head and watch tears fall into you lap.

“why are you crying?”

you wipe at your eyes with a sleeve, looking back into his dark eyes. “you say you want to die. you want to end it. you tried to. but if you ended it,” you take a shaky breath, “I cant-, I don’t want-“ your words fumble over each other in your effort to tell him what you need him to know.

“I can’t do this without you Newt.” you feel his eyes on you and you sigh a little, “I’m sorry, I should be the one comforting you, it’s obvious you need it.”

“Maybe we can comfort each other at the same time.”

he gently pushes himself to a sitting position and pulls you into a hug. you put a head on his shoulder and he does the same on yours. both of you sit there for several minutes, each thinking.

you try to put as much feeling into the hug as you can, for sheer words cannot express the many emotions that bubble inside you.

then, still not speaking, you break apart and you sit back on the chair, drawing it a little closer to the table. you pick up the towel and keep mopping up Newt’s leg.

Clint walks in, “ah good, it’s looking better already. I’ll wrap it up and then you can sleep here for tonight.”

he takes out some tightly wrapped bandages from a drawer and walks towards Newt. he grips your hand as Clint ties the white fabric, gently yet firmly, around the wound.

“it won’t do much to fix the bone, but we can try heal the skin. it’s the best we can do.”

Newt looks up at him and opens his mouth, Clint answers before he can speak however, not meeting his eyes. “no. I’m sorry Newt, but you won’t be able to be a runner anymore.”

you see him nod but can see in his eyes that he has gone numb.

stroking the back of his hand, you watch ad Clint begins walking back to the door, “get him into bed will you y/n, and then let him get some rest. you can go back to your hut after that if you want.”

he pushes open the door and walks into the darkened sky. standing up, you turn to face Newt, “we need to get you into a bed, are you okay to move.”

he nods but as you pull him upright, an arm around your shoulder, you see his already pale face whiten, making his blond hair look odd next to the bright white skin.

you hobble along and when you drop him gently onto the bed, he sighs. tucking the sheets around him, you start to move away, like Clint had told you.

“y/n” he reaches out and arm and holds onto the sleeve of your jumper. you take his hand in yours. “stay. please.”

you nod and begin to drag the chair next to his bed but he pats the bed beside him. gratefully, you climb in beside him and he throws the sheet over both of you, making sure to keep his bandaged leg out of the fabric.

you face each other, foreheads pressed lightly together and hands clasped. both of you look into each others eyes, gentle brown meeting soft (colour of your eyes).

the sky outside the window becomes flecked with stars as the two of you lay there together.

“y/n?”

“yes”

“why are you doing this?”

“doing what?”

“why do you still care about me?”

“because I love you Newt, I love you more than anything, and if you died-“

you can’t finish that sentence. the lump in your throat has returned.

swallowing hard, you force yourself to continue talking. he needs to know.

“if you died, I don’t think I could do it.”

“do what?”

“continue.”

the two of you are silent for another moment. you break the silence, you have to know, “Newt, you won’t try it again?”

he takes a moment to answer, “no.” it’s a flat answer and you’re not fully convinced.

“how am I supposed to know that you won’t?”

he smiles softly, the first one you had seen from him in god knows how long.

“Because, now I have a reason to live.”

“and what exactly is that?”

“to keep you going.”

“that goes both ways.”

you’re smiling now, “let’s make a deal.”

“okay”

“you keep going and I keep going. deal?”

you inch closer to each other noses brushing, then lips brushing.

he puts his lips next your ear and you can hear the small smile in his whispered voice.

“Deal.”