omg i’m obsessed with bsf!jj 😭🩷 i actually need more of this: “Your classmates didn’t understand what you were to each other, you’d say you were best friends but then you’d be sat in his lap with him kissing your neck for the majority of a kegger.” like maybe these type of moments between them before they got together? you write them so well!!
just friends
warnings: alcohol consumption, flirting, mention of JJ’s childhood, perv!jj, jealous!jj, maybe a little sexual.
a/n: this was soooo fun to write! if anyone would like a part 2 and/or has any ideas to add to it lmk, i luv bsf!jj <333
The world around you was starting to spin, that lost vodka shot had done it’s job and you knew that you were in need of a break. Everyone that was further than three feet away from you were blurry little dots, your eyes narrowed as you tried to find your friends in the swarm of people. You spotted John B first, letting out a sigh of relief as you stumbled over to the log he was sat on. You now could see Sarah, sat beside him with her head on his shoulders and her eyes closed; she’d always been the biggest lightweight. You didn’t want to interrupt, but God was on your side when a familiar blonde plopped down onto the other log.
“Jayj,” you beamed. It had been awhile since you’d last seen him, an hour or two at least, that just always seemed to happen at these things.
“Hey, babydoll,” he greeted, looking up at you as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket. “You havin’ a good time?”
“The best.” There was plenty of space beside him, or even on the log that John B and Sarah were sat on, but you decided that the most appealing seat was his lap.
He chuckled as you sat down, hand wrapping around your waist to steady you as the other moved to rub your lower-thigh. “Had a few shots, huh?”
“Just a few,” you murmured, smiling at him. You watched as he lit his cigarette, stealing it from his hold after he’d taken two pulls.
“A please would be nice,” he smirked, hand continuing to rub circles into your skin. You just shrugged, handing it back after you’d had enough.
“Missed you,” you murmured, shifting to get comfier; he let out a slight groan.
“Mhm, missed you too, baby,” he replied, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. Goosebumps ran over your arms; it was the coldness, it had nothing to do with the way he started to pepper kisses down your neck and to your collarbone.
“A live sex show? Lovely,” Pope deadpanned, appearing from thin air and sitting down beside John B.
Your cheeks flushed red, but all JJ did was smirk as he carried on with what he was doing. “Can’t a man love on his best friend?” He asked, lifting his head slightly; you had the urge to whine at him to keep going.
John B snorted, looking down into his cup. Ever since you guys were kids he’d known there was something different about the two of yours relationship. You didn’t look at him the same way you looked at JJ, and JJ definitely didn’t spend Keggers kissing all over his neck.
“Wanna head home soon?” JJ murmured, words meant just for you. It was never clear how these things would end — whether it would be him leaving with you or another girl for the night.
Home didn’t mean separately, he meant to your home. Usually your parents just assumed that JJ would be in your bed the morning after you’d gone out.
“Yeah, let’s go,” you whispered back.
You ignored your friends knowing looks as the pair of you took off up the beach, his arm still wrapped around your waist and your heart still fluttering pathetically in your chest.
christmas
Every year you woke your parents up at the crack of dawn, it didn’t matter that you were definitely too old to be doing such a thing; you loved Christmas. Your alarm went off at 7am, just like usual, and you excitedly sat up. You tried to get up, but an arm wrapped around you and tugged you back down.
“What’re you doing?” You whined, looking down at the smirking blonde. His eyes were still closed, face smushed into the cushion.
“Gettin’ my beauty sleep, just like you should be,” he murmured back.
“It’s Christmas, JJ,” you argued, trying to escape from his firm grip — the more you fought the tighter it got. “Okay, I can’t breathe.”
He chuckled, blinking sleepily as he opened his eyes. “It’s early, baby. Just a bit longer, yeah? Didn’t get to sleep until three.”
“Because we were watching Christmas movies,” you reminded with a pout.
It was no surprise that JJ didn’t care for Christmas, or any holidays really. The only presents he ever got were from your family and John B’s, he never decorated the tree or watched Elf with a cup of hot chocolate. His Christmas days were like any other day; babysitting his hungover dad and watching cartoons. Now though, he wasn’t in his house. He was in yours, and you did things differently.
“Don’t you want to open your presents?” You tried to persuade, leaning down so your face was only a few inches from his. Even though your parents also didn’t have a ton of money, they’d made sure to get JJ gifts every year; even more this year now that he was celebrating with you.
He smirked, making you blush slightly. “Does my present involve you bein’ this close to me all damn day? ‘Cause if so, yes.”
“Shut up,” you grumbled, although a small smile made its way through.
“You ain’t good at bargaining,” he teased. “Just another hour, yeah? The presents will still be there when we get up. I’m sure your parents will throw a damn party if you don’t wake them up so early.”
“But—” his hand covered your mouth, making you pout.
“No buts. Lie down, close your eyes, I’m tired,” he argued, manhandling you until you were laid on your side. He threw his arm around your waist and tugged you backwards so your back was flush against his chest. “Sleep.”
Maybe an extra hour wouldn’t be so bad.
dates
“C’mon, you’re not serious.” He was whining, a line between his eyebrows from how hard he was frowning. You’d already told everyone else that you wouldn’t be able to make movie night, but you knew that telling JJ would be difficult.
“Jayj, it’s one night. It’s not the end of the world, you’ll still have everyone else,” you huffed, sitting next to him on the couch.
“It’s just— it’s shitty! You shouldn’t cancel on us just to go have sex.” The most hypocritical thing he’d ever said. JJ had cancelled on your guys hundreds of times to go hang out with a girl.
“First of all, don’t even go there because you know I’ll win. Secondly, I’m not going to have sex! I got asked on a date,” you argued, gently kicking his thigh.
He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked like a toddler about to throw a tantrum. “Fine, go on the stupid date.”
You weren’t asking for his permission, and you would have said as much if you wanted to start an argument. But, you didn’t. This was the best you were going to get. “Thankyou.” You leant over and kissed his cheek.
“Whatever,” he mumbled.
Thursday night rolled around and you went on your date, within ten minutes you were regretting your decision. Kooks weren’t your type, but when Kyle had walked into the restaurant you worked at and asked for your number he’d seemed charming. You figured you’d give him a shot. Turns out, he was only charming before he got the girl — afterwards, he was downright disgusting.
He spent the night talking about himself; his wealth, his friends, his gym routine. He didn’t ask much about you, and when he did the questions didn’t sit right with you. What’s it like living on the Cut? How many guys come into your work and ask you out? Hey, isn’t that JJ Maybank guy your friend? The list went on, and by the time he’d paid the bill you were falling asleep.
“You want to come back to my place?” You didn’t even say goodbye, just turned around and walked away.
He’d picked you up after work — you’d had to change in the tiny cubicles of the bathroom — so you didn’t have a ride home. You could either walk forty minutes in the dark, or you could swallow your pride and call the one person you knew would come and pick you up.
JJ pulled up next to you fifteen minutes later, he leant across the console and pushed open the door for you. You sighed, climbed in and glared at him. “Don’t say a word.”
He held his hands up in surrender, turning the van around to head back home. “I wasn’t going to.”
“Don’t lie,” you grumbled under your breath.
“That bad, huh?” He sounded genuinely sympathetic, but you could also hear the smugness; you couldn’t really blame him, you felt the same every time he cut off a girl once he got bored.
“Yeah, that bad,” you admitted with a sigh, running a hand over your face.
He just nodded, reaching over to squeeze your thigh comfortingly; his hand rested there. “You look pretty.” You’d tried to dress up, borrowing one of Kiara’s dresses that her mom kept buying her.
“Thank you,” you said softly, giving him a shy smile.
“No worries,” he winked. “So, no second date?”
“As if,” you muttered.
“Naw, who cares? You got me, you don’t need a boyfriend.”
hauls
JJ was bored out of his mind. He’d been sat on your bed for the last half an hour whilst you showed him new outfits from the clothes that Sarah had gifted you. He thought he was going to at least get to watch you undress, but you kept making him close his eyes.
“Okay, open!” You ordered. He opened his mouth to complain, ready to tell you he was bored and he wanted to go out, the words died on the tip of his tongue as he looked at you.
You were wearing a white bikini, thong bottoms and a triangle top; leaving hardly anything to the imagination. “Holy shit,” he blurted out.
“Like it?” You giggled, turning around to look at yourself in the mirror; giving him the perfect view of your ass.
“Jesus Christ, you’re trying to kill me,” he muttered, hands growing sweaty.
“Is that a yes?” You teased.
“Is that a yes? You look sexy as fuck, baby. I legit want to take a picture,” he responded, no shame whatsoever.
Your cheeks heated up, stomach fluttering at the thought of you giving him his own private photo shoot. “Perv.”
“Just for you,” he winked. “That’s, by far, my favourite outfit of the day.”
“I think there’s one that’s the same but in red,” you murmured, reaching for the bag to try and find it.
He grabbed a pillow, placing it over his lap as he nodded his head; trying to act nonchalant. “Let’s have a look at that one.”
Fun fact those dry markers were supposed to have water put into them to make them work. You take off the bottom thing and pour water in and bam, instant marker success. Only learned about this four years after I’d lost my set 🙃
Our own form of courting: Chapter One - Dinner with a final course of courting.
Jealous was not a feeling that Jack was familiar with. As child he would simply take whatever he wanted and maybe deal with the consequences if he was caught.
So, sitting here now he was confused as to why he felt the way he did. He had been invited to yet another dinner at the Governor’s house and was fully expecting it to just be the usual attendees. But when he arrived there was an extra place around the table and a clearly rich man sitting at it. The man was engaging Belle in conversation and from the way she was looking at him Jack knew that she was bored. Jack's hold on his fork tightened when the man patted Belle's hand and she pulled away in annoyance her eyes flicking to his for a second and then returning to the other man.
Jack didn’t really know what their relationship was. Talks of congress and stolen kisses in the hospital storeroom had given him the impression that she was open to further engagement, but the unmoving judgement that was the class system stood in their way. A marriage or really any form of relationship between a Lady and a penniless Doctor was unheard off and not approved of. But the draw to her was unavoidable and they found themselves often tangle together in the storeroom each time she attends the hospital.
He thought about her morning, noon, and night. She was the first thing he thought of in the morning and the last thing at night when he struggled his way up to his room. Thoughts of her filled his head during the day when he was meant to be tending to people and her face filled his mind when he reached for himself at night to stem the ever-growing feeling of want and desire for her. She had frozen the first time she had felt him press hard up against her lower stomach during one of their stolen moments and blushed unable to meet his eyes, when Jack pulled away with stammered apologies. But as time went on, she had grown more assertive in her actions and started to drag moans from Jack when she moved against him as they kissed. One such moment had ended with her legs wrapped around his waist and their hips thrusting together in primal need, Jack had pulled away just in time to avoid spilling in his pants and Belle was left panting and flushed leaning up against the storeroom shelves rubbing her legs together to chase the unknown feeling that was flooding her body. Jack would remember said legs as he stoked himself to completion that night and gasped out her name at the memory of her hips moving against his.
“What say you Dr Dawkins?" Belle said trying to get Jack's attention to avoid speaking to Mr Glendale, "Jack!" she called again when he did not reply. Jack jolted and almost dropped his fork and looked at Belle in confusion. She looked back widening her eyes as if to say, 'save me for the love of god'.
"I’m sorry?" Jack said placing down his knife and fork trying to work out the question that was ask. "I said what do say you about the recent outbreak of flu that is sweeping across the city?" Belle asked again.
"Um, yes very bad indeed. Far too many cases are coming into the hospital, beds are starting to run low my Lady”.
"Father might it be time to talk about the hospital extension? I’m sure Dr Dawkins would be happy to make some recommendations." Belle said looking at her father who was in no way listening to the conversation. He like Jack too struggled to find an answer for a question that he hadn't listened to.
"Yes. Yes, that could be arranged." He said taking a deep sip of his wine really having no idea what he had agreed to. Belle rolled her eyes and looked at Jack with a faint smile. He returned it, that was until Mr Glendale took it upon himself to brush his hand over Belle's arm to garner her attention again. This time Belle didn’t try to hide her annoyance and moved her chair noisily to the side to place some distance between the two. Jack's anger flared up when Mr Glendale tried to hide a look annoyed at her action. Not that he was one to talk given their daily storeroom romps, but at least said romps were away from the public eye and didn’t make her uncomfortable.
Belle was very much over this dinner and the man sitting next to her. If he wasn’t boring her with talk of his “rather large estate” then his hands were wandering. First it was a pat on the hand and next a brush on her arm. She had noticed that Jack seemed to not be able to take his eyes off the man’s hand and she could see he was starting to get annoyed at the man. It wasn’t until Mr Glendale placed a rather firm hand on her upper leg that Belle did something. With a quick slip her knife sliced across the palm of her hand leaving what she thought was a shallow cut.
"Oh, silly me!" Belle gasped holding her bleeding hand in a fist, "I seem to have cut myself. Dr Dawkins if you could be of assistance" she said ignoring her mother disapproval and giving Jack a pointed look. "Yes of course" Jack said getting up and rounding the table to assist Belle with leaving the room. He held his arm out for her, and she took it immediately wishing nothing more then to leave the table.
"Belle, I don’t think..." her mother started but was cut off by her father when Belle let a drop of blood escape her fingers, "Now dear Dawkins can attend her." With a nod to the Governor Jack led her form the room and up to her bedroom.
Belle didn’t think the cut was deep enough to warrant a doctor's attention, but she was sick of being pawned over by Mr Glendale and had needed an exit before Jack leapt over the table and assaulted the man. She had been watching his movements ever since they sat down and knew he was on a wire's edge when she saw his jaw twitch and his hand tighten around his cutlery.
When they reached her bedroom Jack lead her over to her bed and sat her down on the edge. He knelt before her to and began to examine her hand. Contrary to what Belle had thought before it actually was quite a deep cut and would require a bandage of some sort. Jack rose and walked over to her supplies and began searching in silence. Belle could see that he was put out and it wasn’t just his normal annoyance at having to attend a dinner at the estate. She stopped her musing when he knelt back down in front of her and began cleaning the cut. He worked in silence meticulously cleaning cut and she couldn’t help but winced at random intervals when he had to dig in the fabric of the cloth into her broken skin. Blood was still slowly dripping down her palm and he put pressure on the pulse at her wrist to slow down the blood flow.
"I don’t like him touching you," Jack said quietly as he was bent over her hand. Belle bit her lip trying not to laugh, her sweet man was jealous. "Really? I hadn't noticed" she replied with a teasing tone. Jacks jaw twitched in annoyance again and his fingers had started to stoke the inside of her wrist lightly. "He shouldn’t be touching you like that in public" he continued without looking up at her. Wanting to see how far she could push him Belle teased again, "as opposed to how you touch me" she said biting her lip and slowly opening her legs so that he came to rest between them. Jack's fingers paused and she watched how he swallowed deeply, his eyes flicked to the closed door and then back to her hand before he stood up gathered her in his arms and kissing her deeply. Belle reacted in kind by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in closer to rest against her between her parted legs.
He placed rough kisses down her neck that made her head roll back and she moan deeply. Hands began to franticly grab at each other's clothing and their hips were starting to roll against each other. Soon Jack's jacket had been discarded onto the floor and his necktie was somewhere over Belle’s shoulder where she had thrown it. In-kind the buttons on the front of her dress were undone, as was the under shirt beneath. Jack had pulled them open, and they were revealing her chemise and corset, her skirts was up bunched up around her waist showing a improper amount of leg and a thin sneak peak of her hips. "I don’t want him touching me either" Belle breathed out while Jack was attacking her neck with nursing sucks, and she felt him harden against her stomach in reaction to her words. She could feel that he was tense and not in the normal way he was when they stole kisses, and he was worried about being found or pushing too far into her space. His was tense in a way that made her think he was about to steal her away in the night and never let her out of his sight. Tense in a way she had never seen him before and the only thing she could think of was jealously. Bone deep, soul burning jealously. "I only want you" she confessed grabbing his face between his hands to make him look at her.
"I only want you, Jack. Only you." she continued, and Jack searched her face for any word of a lie. When he found none his shoulders relaxed and kissed her softly. Belle moaned when Jack hitched her legs up around his hips and started to grind against her. A chorus of moans and whimpers echoed in Belle’s room as the pair thrusted against each other. Jack could feel her warm wet heat against his hard length and could feel himself weeping into the inside of his pants. Groaning at the thought of having to reappear downstairs with a wet patch on his pant Jack pulled away and held Belle from him with a firm hand in the middle of her chest.
“What?” Belle panted still slightly moving her hips back and forth, Jack looked down at his erection and blushed when Belles eyes followed, “Oh,” she said. Jack swallowed, “If we go any further, I won’t be able to hide the effects of our actions on the fabric of my pants”. Belle looked confused for a moment and then her eyes widened in understanding, “Can’t you just…take it out?” she asked shyly. Jack pulled her back into his arms, “I could. But we haven’t…” his words faded off hoping she would understand. She did and nodded in understanding, “I want you to. Want to see you” she whispered against his lips before gently biting them. Jack shuddered when he felt her soft hands start to unbutton his pants and buried his head in her neck and moaned when he felt her pulled out his hard cock from its fabric coverings. She timidly stoked him a few times before he had to pull away with a harsh cut off moan of pleasure. He reached down quickly and gripped the base tightly hoping to stop his orgasm. He succeeded and pulled her against him again, returning her legs to high on his hips. He felt her jolt when his warm length brush against her wet womanhood.
He began to slowly thrust against her, and she tightened her arms around him. Their lips slipped together with want and Belle groaning against Jack’s tongue as he licked feverishly into her mouth. She gasped against his kiss as his fingers dug harder into her soft legs and her gasp turned to a needy whine for more when his cock slide over her clit. He groaned desperately; his arms moved to wrap around the small of Belle’s back to pull her in closer as the other hand weaved through the back of her hair. She cried out as he gripped her hair with a sharp but subdued tug, the new position allowing his hard cock to hit her clit harder.
"Goddammit." Jack growled out, his eyes wild with heat and absolute want. His hips were starting to jerk uncontrollably, and Belle was starting to feel a deep pulsating tightening in her stomach. With each rut, Belle could feel the rolling arousal come closer and closer to the edge until she was whimpering into his scathing kiss.
"I...I'm gonna...,” She breathed out against his lips, sharp pangs of ecstasy shooting through her clit as Jack continued to snap his hips against her. He growled low and raw as he let go of her hair and gripped her hips tightly and started to thrust harder into her. Belle cried out and moaned against his tongue as her hands ran through his hair. A few long moments passed before Belle’s hands gripped his hair with a cry, her back arching as she felt her orgasm completely wreck her and made her vision blur around the edges. She heard Jack let out a strangled groan and felt the erratic and final thrust of his hips against her before he stilled, his cock twitching against her still pulsing heat and he buried his face in her neck, his mouth opens in a silent cry of pleasure against her slick skin.
There was silence, the only sound being the panting between the pair and Belle’s soft whimpering as Jack rocked slowly against her trying to draw out every last beat of pleasure form the both of them. Guiding his lips to hers she groaned a final “Jack” into him, and he stilled with his own moan of contentment. They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other breathing deeply.
“That was…”
“One of many?” Belle jokes pushing him away gently so she would clean herself up. Their mixture releases were coating her mound and inner thighs, and she could feel them sliding down towards the inside of her knees. Jake laughed at her joke as she bent to pick up one of the cloths he had brought over. He lifted her again and began to wipe the insides of her legs and smirked when he brushed over her womanhood, and she jerked with a deep moan.
“Never one of many” he said placing a kiss under her jaw. Before she had time to repay his kindness and clean his now soft cock, there was a sharp knock at the door that had them scrambling to redress and once Jack tad tucked himself back into his pants, he was frantically trying to gather all the medical supplies that had ended up on the floor and hide the cloth that was covered in their releases. He tucked said cloth into his jacket pocket and grabbed a now dressed Belle's hand just in time for the door to open to reveal her mother standing there.
"It should be fine now my Lady. It won’t need stitches." he said patting her hand gently. Lady Jane eyed him suspiciously as he walked past her running a hand through his now messy hair and he threw an apologetic look over his shoulder to the now cornered Belle. They had definitely lost track of time and been upstairs for far too long.
Belle looked away from the retreating form of Jack and played with her well tied bandage trying to not meet her mother’s eye line "Belle...," her mother started in a disapproving tone. "Mama don’t start please," she said knowing what her mother was going to say and she didn’t want to hear it.
"You may think me unkind Belle, but no relationship with a man of his background can end well and we both know it."
"I love him," Belle said determinedly jumping off the bed and squaring her shoulders to face her mother. Lady Jane took in her daughters flushed complexion, rumbled clothes, and sighed. She closed the door softly and walked closer to her daughter.
"My dear, I know that it may seem like that now. But once reality sets in and you see that he cannot provide for you, the world will snap into a sharp and harsh focus." She said taking her daughters injured hand gently.
"He is a good man Mama and I truly believe he would make happy, and I will want for nothing that I desire" Belle said. Her mother scoffed at this, and Belle ripped her hands from hers and spaced in anger, tears forming in her eyes.
"I don’t care that we won’t live in a house like this!" Belle said waving her hands around her room, "and I don’t care that he has no title. I love him. I love him Mama and I won’t be made to feel bad about that. He is kind, so much kinder than any of the men you have thrown in my path, and he is smart Mama, oh you have no idea how smart he is. At last, I am on equal footing with a man that doesn’t make me feel silly or inadequate. We spend hours talking about a world of things and he listen to me Mama, he really listens to me and cares about my thoughts. He is gentle and when he...and when he kisses me, I never want him to stop. But he always does and there is never any pressure from him to fully ruin myself and by god I want him to ruin me, if just to stop other man from thinking they can have me." Belle said throwing herself at her mother's feet and grasping at her hands, "Mama I am begging you, please give us you’re blessing. I want for no one else and there will be no one else but him" Belle begged again pleading for her mother to understand.
Lady Jane looked at her daughter in shock, she could have sworn that the pasting flash in the pan between the two of them was just that, passing and would burn out once the doctor had had his fill. Never did she think for a second the connect between the two ran this deep. She noted the terrified look in her daughters eyes and the tears that were rolling down her cheeks, she was also trying to ignore the hastily button dress and dark bruises forming low on her neck. She felt Belle's hands tighten in hers and was drawn back to her daughters pleading face and concluded that there was no hope in fighting this connection. She knew that Dr Dawkins gentlemen like ways would not hold out forever and not to mention her daughters own apparent wants and a child born out of wedlock was more of a scandal then her titled daughter marrying a man of a lower station.
Lady Jane had to admit the one thing that Jack Dawkins had his in corner was an unblemished military recorded and an officer title to his name. Military titles and battle born bravely went along way for untitled men in their family's circles and she knew that her husband held Mr Dawkin’s navel career in the highest regard. The truth of the matter was that her daughter could do better, but she could do worse then Naval doctor with no title or family.
"Mama?" Belle asked breaking the silence that had fallen over the two. "We shall speak to you father. Ask your good doctor to stay behind tonight once dinner has concluded." Belle let out a sob and threw herself into her mother's arms, "Thank you Mama! Thank you!"
The rest of dinner passed without issue and easy conversation. Lady Jane now in full understanding of her daughter’s heart was now privy to the small looks the pair shared over the table and the cold looks that Jack sent Mr Glendale each time he spoke to Belle. She had to give it to them, if you didn’t know they were in love you wouldn’t have noticed the slight blush on the doctors face when Belle smiled at him or the slight shake of her daughters hands when Jack smiled back. Lady Jane was trying to think back on the all the dinners the Doctor has attended and was trying to remember if she had noticed the looks before. She couldn’t remember a time and now was even more convinced that they were at least equally paired in their skills of deception if not in their love for each other.
Jack was almost at the front door when he was pulled into the Governer's study and felt lips connected with his. His hands held Belle's face to his and he chuckled as he gently pushed her away, "You will be the death of me" Belle smiled and kissed him again. Jack’s hands started to wander, and she found herself slowly slipping into his warm arms and forgetting why she had pulled him in there. Voices from the hallway brought her back to her senses and she pulled herself away from Jack with a groan. She laughed when Jacks lips tried to follow her, and his eyes were still closed in bliss.
"Mama has given us permission to court" she said quickly and laughed again when is eyes snapped opened. He didn’t say anything and was just looking at her in confusion. Her smiled faded the longer he just stood there in silence. "Jack?" she said confused at his reaction and wondering why he wasn’t more excited at the idea of being with her. Oh god, what is her mother was right Belle thought and the cold feeling of dread began to settle in her flipping stomach. What I he did indeed have no plans of marrying her and what if he lied about their time together and the plan all along was to make her one of his many. She was going to be sick, and she felt a look of disgust forming on her face.
"You said I wasn’t one of many," she said sadly as tears began to form in the corner of her eyes, "You never planned on marrying me did?" she asked his still silent form. Jack on the other hand was reeling, his thought bouncing around his mind faster than he could think about them and all he wanted was to kiss her.
"Jesus Jack!" Belle yelled angrily, "I can't...," But she was cut short by Jack slamming their lips together in a harsh kiss. She lost her footing slightly and stumbled back against the bookcase. Jack was pressed tightly against her and was driving his tongue into her mouth with passionate abandonment. Belle had whiplash and her brain was foggy, his lips were the only thing she could think about.
"What’s the meaning of this?" Her father thundered making the pair break apart as if they had been yank by invisible strings. Jack wiped his mouth his thumb and looked at Belle for help, but Belle was looking at him for the same. Silence fell over the study as the group just stood there, Belle and Jack in slight embarrassment, her mother in shocked annoyance and her father in anger.
"Father," Belle said, but was cut off by her father holding up a finger to silence her. He turned to Jack with a look of fury, "I invite you into this house and this is how you repay me! Taking advantage of my daughter!" He yelled striding towards Jack. Jack had just enough time to duck under her father’s hands and come to stand beside her, Belle took his shaking hand in hers not knowing what else to do.
"My dear calm is needed," He mother said moving to take her father's hand, "Belle and I have spoken on this and I have given my blessing. Perhaps we should speak on this".
"Blessing! What blessing? There is nothing to blessing!" He father continued to yell.
"Father I love him!" Belle yelled back and this silenced the Governor. He looked between the two of them and his eyes fell to their entwined hands. "Love? You barely know him, Isabelle!" He yelled. If Belle was startled by the use of her full name, she didn’t show it, she turned into Jack and wrapped her other hand across her body to hold his forearm, "Yes Father. I love him and he returns my love" she said looking up at Jack with all but stars in her eyes, he returned her look tenfold and rubbed his thumb over their joined hands.
"Why don’t we sit?" Her mother pressed leading her father over to his desk and stood beside him when he sat down. When the pair didn’t move she snapped, "Sit. Now." Belle and Jack rushed to take their place on the chairs opposite her father.
"Explain." the Governor said sharply. Belle started but was cut off again and the Governor spoke to Jack. "Now Lieutenant"
Jack sat up straight as if his rank was an invisible string through the top of his head and held his head high. "I love your daughter Sir. More than I can put into words. I know that my station is of a concern, but I am Gentleman Officer and know what circles my rank provides me entry into. With respect Sir I will love her with or without your permission. If she will have me," Jack said looking towards Belle. She again has tears in her eyes and reached over to hold his hand again. "Belle?" Her father asked, and without looking away from Jack she nodded, "Yes. I return Doctor Dawkins’ feelings and affections whole heartedly."
Her father sighed and slumped back into his chair, "You must know that people will not understand”.
"I don’t care," Belle said quickly looking at her father, "He is a Naval Lieutenant, an Officer and a Doctor. He is not so far beneath my rank to cause gossip and even than we should not listen to it." The Governor nodded and like the military man was he knew when a battle was lost and by the looks of couple sitting before him, he was well and truly beaten.
"Marriage?" He asked Jack plainly. "Eventually with your blessing Sir" Jack answered back with well-rehearsed soldiers’ quickness. The Governor nodded in acceptance and turned to his wife, "My dear?".
"I see no other option, as our daughter has made it bluntly clear there will be no severing of this relationship. Marriage will be the end goal, but six months of courting should temper down any rumours of any...impropriety." Jack and Belle both blushed at her mother insinuation and her father was trying to look anywhere but the couple or the abused bookcase.
"I take it you understand the rules of courting Doctor Dawkins?" Lady Jane asked. "Yes, my Lady," Jack lied and Belle tried to not laugh. Of course, he didn’t know the rules of courting, where he came from courting was a non-issue. Normally pregnancy was the motivation for marriage and many a woman had been forced into an unhappy situation due to a moment of starvation or lust.
"Very well. You have our blessing to court Lady Belle Doctor Dawkins," The Governor said standing up from his desk. He held out his hand for Jack to shake and pulled him in close to speak quietly to him, "Just know Dawkins if any word reaches my ears that you have been improper with Lady Belle or caused her any harm, know that laws don’t cover everything in this place and a father can be far more dangerous than a governor when pushed." He let go of Jack's hand and placed a gentle kiss on Belle cheek before leaving the room.
"You will not embarrass this family do you understand" Lady Jane said to both of them, "No children shall come from this partnership until you are marriage, no untoward public shows of affection and for the love of god Doctor Dawkins no more sneaking into my daughter’s bedroom. We have a front door!" She yelled before following her husband from the room.
Jack let out a sigh and fell back into his chair, Belle moved to sit on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Jack relaxed into her hold and wrapped his own arms around her. "You lied" Bell whispered against his neck. Jack shrugged, "Just a small one" he confessed. "You have no idea about the rules of courting" Belle laughed as his hand moved down to fondle her ass. "This isn’t one of them?" Jack asked against her lips as his hands now wandered up to cup her breasts. Belle groaned into their kiss and could feel his equal excitement against her leg.
"Holly hell, we're in trouble" Belle said breaking their kiss to rest their foreheads together. They were both panting and not at all concerned with the fact that they were breaking many of the seemingly unknown courting rules.
"So much trouble," Jack replied before pulling her face back towards his and joining their lips again in a heated kiss.
I swear to god this man comes back to get me at least once a year EVERY SINGLE YEAR I CONVINCE MYSELF HES NOT THAT CUTE BUT THEN IT HAPPENS AGAIN. AND AGAIN. AND FUCKING AGAIN.
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)
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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.
Based on this request: "newt fic with prompts 3 17 25"
masterlist
The sun has barely been up for half an hour, and already, you’re itching to cause problems. What the Glade needs more than anything is a good bit of fun, and you have already pledged yourself to the lifelong goal of providing it. Today is going to be good, no matter how many rules you have to break to get there. Alby can never sentence you to a night in the Slammer if he can’t form the words through bouts of laughter, right?
So you’d like to pretend, at any rate. Regardless, after serious and careful deliberation, you decide that the target of your playful malice can only be your best friend, the one boy here who you like the most and thus must face the majority of your boredom fueled antics: Newt.
If you’re in the mood for being honest, you might be able to admit that it’s been a long time since you truly believed Newt to be only a friend. He’s been lingering on the edges of your vision for a while now, dancing in and out of your consciousness. No matter how hard you try to pin him down into the concrete squares of what is a friend and what isn’t someone you can love, he always manages to escape.
It’s not helpful, this crush. It’s not going to get anywhere. Newt is the most self sacrificing boy you’ve ever met, always passing up an opportunity for his personal amusement of comfort for those of others. Without Newt, you think the entire Glade would fall to pieces in a matter of hours.
It’s a good thing, then, that you won’t ever have to think about losing him. No, the only danger comes with him growing sick of you. None of you are ever leaving this damned square of green fields, none of you will ever make it past the walls of the Maze, so you might as well stop casting far-fetched dreams to the winds and focus on what’s right here, right now.
That is the Glade, and that is all you need. All you’ll ever need is right here within four walls, and if on occasion you want to taunt yourself with the hallucination that one day Newt might wake up and realize that he’s worthy of not only loving someone but being loved back, that’s something no one needs to bring up. Least of all you.
To push away the thoughts, you throw yourself into the trouble of causing trouble. All of you have to pick your poison in some way to make it through the endless cycle of days that all begin and end the same. Gally has his temper, Minho his jokes, Newt his kindness, and you your mischief. At least it lets you do something other than give up.
You can already feel yourself starting to spiral, so you force yourself to start moving forward. You and Newt are both Track-Hoes, and thus you know exactly where the blond boy will be going to start his day. The sun is rising overhead; you’ve never been able to sleep here, not well. Something keeps you from ever being able to truly rest.
All Track-Hoes are kept by a strict schedule. There are no exact work hours, only the knowledge that the longer you put off the day’s work, the closer you veer towards spending extensive periods of time in the blazing sun. It’s like the lot of you are vampires, how careful you are to stay in the meager shade provided by the fence posts of the garden enclosure, how you’d rather work early in the morning or late in the evening rather than face the noonday brightness.
It’s grueling work, so it makes sense that you would all come up with ways to avoid the worst of the heat and light. It also makes sense that Newt should be coming along soon to start off his morning, which is why you only have a limited window to cause your problems before it’s too late.
The tools of your trade are all kept in a rusting garden shed not ten paces from the rows of plants and crops carefully tended by you and your friends. It is here that you stop with a delighted smile, here that you slip inside past the groaning metal hinges of the door to stand in the center of the narrow enclosure.
The shed itself was constructed by the Builders a while back, and it’s a minor miracle that the thing even stands up in the first place. It might have been one of their very first projects, which would at least explain the uneven floorboards, the dramatic slant of what should have been a straight roof, the dingy lightbulb in the corner kept lit only by an excess of electrical tape.
Still, it’s familiar, and anyone who’s had to use the shed more than a couple of times has memorized the contents. You think Zart could find even the smallest of tools with a blindfold on from how much time he’s spent cataloging all the equipment inside. Maybe one time you’ll test him on that, were you not afraid that he’d accidentally skewer himself on a splintering piece of wood and have to delegate his daily work to the rest of you.
Basically, what the garden shed represents is a constant that every Track-Hoe can count on. It’s also the last place Newt will expect for a surprise, which is precisely what makes it so perfect. There’s a small, cracked window on the far side of the shed, and when you glance through its dusty surface, you can just make out a figure emerging from the distance and heading towards the shed. It’s Newt, you can tell from the slight syncopation of his walk, how he favors one leg over the other.
Excellent timing on his part. You settle yourself into position just behind a tall stack of flowerpots and prepare yourself. You have to bite back a laugh as you hear Newt’s footsteps get closer, then the jiggle of the doorknob as he turns it.
Newt opens the door casually, no idea of what is in store for him. The second his silhouette is revealed in the doorframe, you jump out at him, hands raised and yell already building from your throat.
Despite this being the perfect scare, Newt doesn’t even bat an eye. Instead, he just regards you with the same expression as always. The only sign that he might be remotely affected is the fact that one corner of his lips can’t seem to stop pricking up, although that could just be because he’s trying to stop himself from laughing at your efforts.
“You know,” he says casually, “for a jump scare to work you have to actually be scary. Try to do better next time, if I’m going to have a heart attack I want it to at least work properly.”
You stare at him incredulously. “From the bottom of my heart, what the fuck. Who made you like this? That was as scary as I possibly could be.”
“That’s it?” Newt asks, brushing past you to grab a shovel from the rack, “I’m kind of disappointed. I expected more from you in the fear department.”
You give him a look. “You’re such an unsupportive friend.”
Newt chuckles, unable to keep back his good humor any longer. “What, because I didn’t react properly to you jumping out at me? Should I have perhaps let out a little shriek or something?”
“It would have been preferable,” you say cuttingly. “Wait, did Minho tell you I was here? Is that why you weren’t scared?”
Newt spread his hands. “He didn’t know for sure. All Minho told me was that you looked like you had something up your sleeve, and seeing as I didn’t see you anywhere else, I put the pieces together.”
You groan. “Stop being so good at critical thinking, it takes the fun out of everything.”
Newt grins. “Never. Now come on and grab a shovel, I’m not in the mood to be out here at twelve.”
You roll your eyes and grab your tools. Newt maintains his composed demeanor for a few moments longer, then gives in and starts laughing.
“You should have seen the look on your face when I didn’t react to your jumpscare,” he manages in between bouts of laughter, “You still look like it, actually. It’s like watching Gally when someone says they don’t want his brew. You’re so disappointed.”
You swat him in the shoulder with your work gloves. “You’re so mean to me.”
“I’m mean?” Newt says, outraged, “you tried to murder my nerves not five minutes ago. Honestly, I think you’re the mean one.”
You sigh dramatically. “Yes, I’m sure I’m the mean one. Me, who just wanted to lift your spirits and also your blood pressure, who would never do anything to hurt you permanently. I’m sure I’m so mean.”
“I’m glad you understand,” Newt says, “I thought you would never come to that realization. It’s a hard discovery, I know, but I’m sure you can manage it.”
You grimace. “But Newt, my pride may never allow it.”
He chokes back a laugh at that. “Maybe that’s for the best.”
You consider hitting him with the gloves again. “Wrong answer. You’re supposed to tell me that I don’t have any pride at all. I’m the most humble person you know.”
Newt narrows his eyes at you. “Say that one more time. Just think about it.”
“What?” You ask, “that I’m the most humble person you know? I don’t see anything wrong with that. I’m so good at being humble it’s crazy.”
“If you’re bragging about being humble,” Newt ponders, “does that actually mean you’re humble? I’m asking for a friend.”
“Is that friend me?” You question.
“Oh, it’s definitely you,” Newt says, eyes wide.
You feign a dramatic gasp. “I can’t believe you. Insulting me left and right. I’ve never been more hurt.”
Newt chuckles. “Somehow, I get the feeling that you’re going to be okay.”
“Yeah,” you reply, “you know why?”
“Why?” Newt asks. He’s just playing along, but your face turns serious.
“Because I’ve got you. I know it sounds melodramatic and all that, but it’s enough for me. I like being your friend, Newt.” Even if you wish it was more.
Newt’s expression softens, and he reaches over to sling an arm around your shoulders. “I happen to like being your friend quite a bit as well,” he says, “More than anything.”
You look over at him now, and feel your breath catch in your chest. With his arm around you, Newt’s leaning closer than ever. You can sense how little distance remains between the two of you, how easy it would be to remove that distance entirely until it’s just the two of you forever. No beginning, no ending, just you and him as one.
You raise your gaze and realize that Newt is looking at you too. In the early morning, with no one else around, it’s easy to pretend that you and Newt are the only people in the world. The planet is empty, barren of anyone but you and him. An entire universe just for both of you.
“I have a secret,” Newt whispers, “It’s a secret I haven’t been able to tell you for a long time. It’s a secret that could destroy us.”
“Say it,” you urge. Some voice in the back of your head tells you that you might know what he’s talking about, and if there’s even a fractional chance that you’re right, you can’t go the rest of your life without knowing.
He lets out a quiet breath. “I love you. I have for a while. I need you more than a friend, Y/N. I need you as someone to love.”
You’re silent from the shock of it, and Newt’s tone grows desperate. “Tell me you love me. I need to hear it just the once. I need to know that this isn’t a mistake.”
“It’s not a mistake,” you tell him, “I love you too. Trust me on that.”
After all your time of being his best friend, Newt can all but read your mind. He doesn’t have to ask for any proof that you love him, he can believe you without a second’s hesitation. Believe you he does, and just like that, the two of you are doing alright again.
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.’
‘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.
— “HEY, there you are,” You hear a voice softly call behind you that you instantaneously recognized as Newt’s, “I was looking for you.”
Glancing over your shoulder, you find him standing inside the doorway, a jar of Gally’s moonshine in his hand. You force a quick smile before turning back around to face the cabinet, “Here I am.”
