An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Relationships: Newt/Thomas, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Additional Tags: Newt Loves Thomas, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Minho is a Little Shit, Everyone Ships Newt/Thomas, Fluff, Light Angst, Thomas Needs a Hug, Minho is a Good Friend, Protective Newt, Good Friend Gally, Hurt Thomas
Summary: Thomas had expected to run into at least a few obstacles through his years at hogwarts. However he didn't prepare himself for getting fixated with the owner of those deep blue eyes.
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Or that tmr hogwarts au featuring: whipped Newt, oblivious Thomas and shipper minho
do u have any fic recs for oblivious thomas? could be oblivious about his own feelings or oblivious about minho's feelings fo rhim or both. bls i love oblivious idiot thomas sm
Hi @un-ah!
There are lots of oblivious Thomas fics, but I’ll just rec the ones that I really like. I am also ashamed (not) to say that some of those fics are by me, but you know how much I love self-advertising ;)
A kiss is all I want | Safr2n | General
The immunes were celebrating Christmas. Again, something Minho and Thomas remembered as a thing, but had no memories of it. While everyone was having a big party together, both boys had wanted to be alone, just the two of them. Sometimes, it was a bit overwhelming to be around so many people.
In Sickness and In Health | Delia_Maguire | General
Sure, the sudden rainstorm sucked and Thomas couldn't exactly feel all the parts of his body anymore - But Minho looked so hopeful... He could survive a little cold, Right? Wrong.
Do Guard Dogs Doggy Paddle? | Delia_Maguire | General
Of all the things Minho had worried about girls doing to his best friend, shoving him off a cliff was probably on the bottom of his list.
Purely Platonic | Izcana | General
Good for them – they finally got together, but I just wish they did it sooner.
I guess it's just like what they say: "It's a blessing and a curse that love is blind."
Instinct | Delia_Maguire | Teens and Up
The Trials are over. They're safe.
At least, that's what Minho had hoped - But when he and Thomas come to live with Thomas's long lost twin brother, Stiles Stilinski, in Beacon Hills, he quickly realizes that's wishful thinking.
The Secret To Wooing Thomas, by Minho No-Surname | Izcana | General
Minho glared playfully. "Such a shame that is, too." He was sure Thomas was going to reply with a lame comeback and he was ready for it.
But no. He was not ready for the look that followed. Thomas gasped, widening his eyes and pouting. His big brown eyes were wide and watery and the brown and (very) long eyelashes were not helping, neither were the small, plump rosy-strawberry pink lips that jutted out slightly. Thomas' master pout. Oh, no.
Minho had been first subjected to this pout in the first week of paradise. Thomas had wanted Minho's last orange and Minho refused to give it to him. The next second, Thomas had pulled his look and Minho had discovered that his hand was obediently handing the precious orange to Thomas, who stopped his pout immediately and ate the orange.
Minho had stared, dumbfounded, at the cute boy who had juice smeared all over his face. Minho was weak for Thomas, apparently. He questioned why Thomas didn't just use that look on Alby when he wanted to become a runner. It couldn't just be Minho who succumbed to Thomas' spell...or was it?
Important | Safr2n | Teens and Up
“You’ll have to talk to him one day soon” Teresa repeated for the umpteenth time. “And you’ll have to go back to your dorm, you cannot sleep on the floor of my room for the rest of the semester.”
Thomas groaned. He knew it.
Few months ago, Thomas realized that the feelings he had for his best friend weren’t just platonic. It had hit him, suddenly, without even giving him a moment to think about it.
He was madly in love with Minho.
Chills Down Your Spine | Izcana | General
Thomas had his head resting on the picnic blanket, and they were watching the stars.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Minho's low voice said, and Thomas shivered. "I used to do it when I was a kid."
"Yeah," Thomas agreed, smiling as he curled up unconsciously to the warmth Minho radiated. The stars were truly beautiful. "I agree."
The Glade Runner | kisstheloststars | Mature
"H-Hey! Hey! Let me out!"
The words seemed to resonate with the boy, his vulnerable tone almost like that of a distant memory.
After a while of kicking the door and rattling the handle frantically, Thomas felt his breath hitch in the back of his throat.
He then completely dismissed all of his thoughts in that moment, once the door was unlocked - he would have bolted straight out of the room, too, if it wasn't for the pair of strong arms which grabbed his shoulders all too quickly and tightly, blocking his means of escape.
"Woah, there!"
"Holy shuck!"
"Bloody hell! Looks like we've got a stranger in our room with the chops to be a runner!"
Touch-starved | Safr2n | General
“Wow, your hands are so cold” he had commented while covering the brunet’s hands with his own, warming them up. Thomas was too shocked and busy trying not to blush to do or say anything. Besides, what could he have done? The tan skin on his just felt so good.
I need you, always | Safr2n | General
Thomas never felt worst. Not even when he went against his own promise and told Minho what he did to Newt. Not even when he pulled the trigger… Okay, maybe not as much, but he was still feeling bad. Really bad.
...and that...was my very long list of oblivious Thomas. So much for keeping it short, but this is one of my favourite tags, too, so short is basically out the window.
All of Thomas' favourite 5 memories took place in the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ #1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thomas had his head resting on the picnic blanket, and they were watching the stars.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Minho's low voice said, and Thomas shivered. "I used to do it when I was a kid."
"Yeah," Thomas agreed, smiling as he curled up unconsciously to the warmth Minho radiated. The stars were truly beautiful. "I agree."
The two laid on the blanket for a bit, their legs tangling with each other. It was normal for them to cuddle like this, per see, especially during the autumn. Thomas was especially sensitive to cold, hence why he had brought a thick quilt and worn three jumpers whereas Minho was only wearing a thin parka, and he still managed to radiate heat like a furnace. How he managed this Thomas had no idea, but he did.
Minho wrapped an arm around Thomas' lean frame, and it felt like coming home. Being great friends, they were very familiar with each other's habits, and Minho knew that Thomas would get cold. Thomas snuggled into the muscular arm of his best friend, and he knew he shouldn't be admiring how those biceps flexed under his neck. He shouldn't be mesmerised at how the dim light and smudged charcoal-like shadows dance on the surface of Minho's bronze skin.
The person admiring that should have been Minho's significant other. As much as Thomas wanted to be that person, he would never be. He would forever be Minho's loyal best friend, watching Minho date many other people, people a hundred times better than him. More beautiful. Smarter, sassier, more to Minho's taste. Thomas would never get to be that person.
The most Thomas would get is a place at Minho's side during the wedding, as his best man if he was lucky, but Minho would've probably moved on by then. Maybe he would've found another best friend, one cooler, funnier, more interesting than him. Would he ever receive an invitation to the wedding?
No, he told himself. Minho may not like you that way, but he would never give up the friendship. Never.
After all, no one knew Thomas better than Minho, and vice versa.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ #2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Happy birthday, Tom!" Teresa squealed, handing the aforementioned boy the present that was wrapped with a bright red bow.
Thomas took the present with a bright smile. His neon birthday-boy hat bounced on his head as he pounced on Teresa and engulfed her in a hug. "Thank you, thank you!" He squealed. If it was Minho, he would've been happy to receive Thomas as a birthday present, wrapped in a bow and everything. Minho might've been jealous of Teresa if he didn't know better; from an outsider's perspective, it did appear that Teresa was Thomas' girlfriend.
Minho remembered on the first day of high school when he thought the same thing.
"Hey, Greenie, " he said, grinning at the Greenie who peered up at his shoes shyly. Ooh, a pretty one, Minho thought.
"Hi," the kid who looked younger than him said, sending him a small smile. "Nice to meet you."
"Ya know," Minho added, because he was an annoying person, okay? "You usually say your name first, and then say 'nice to meet you'." Newt would've smacked him if he'd heard Minho "treat the Greenies like that", again. Honestly, Minho didn't see it as a big deal, but when you're a Greenie...well, he supposed it might be a bit scary to be faced off with Minho's sarcasm on your first day of school. The last Greenie, a 9th grader, "klunked in his trousers", as Newt described it.
Not this Greenie, though. He seemed to get Minho's sense of humour. "I'm Thomas," he said, his plush lips curving into a bemused smile. "Nice to meet you. Happy?"
"Very," Minho grinned. "I'm Minho."
"You forgot to say 'nice to meet you'," Thomas giggled. Minho hadn't gotten enough of that giggle, ever since.
"Nice to meet you, happy?" Minho mimicked with a squeaky voice.
"I gue –––" Before he could continue the word, he was interrupted by a pretty girl with black hair and blue eyes.
"Gosh, Tom!" She complained. "This is nothing like how Brenda said 'normal' high school was going to go!"
"Don't remind me, Tess," Thomas grinned. Minho had expected him to start snogging the girl right there. "This is my sister, Teresa," he continued. Or...not
Minho only stood there dumbly as he processed the information. Thomas...sister...Teresa? He was going to introduce himself wittily, but what came out instead was a sigh of: "You have the same nose."
Thomas laughed, throwing his neck back. Minho feasted hungrily upon the pale flesh that was dotted with moles that were scattered bizarrely on his neck.
Minho had paid attention in astronomy class ever since that day.
"How did you know I broke the last mug?" Thomas asked, tearing the paper frantically.
It was actually Minho who told Teresa about the broken mug. Thomas had looked so heartbroken about it, Minho had to get him a new mug. But, since he already had the perfect present planned, he couldn't be the one to wrap it in paper and tie a delicate bow around it in Thomas' favourite colour, grass green.
Thomas' heart broke over the silliest things, but that was why Minho loved him.
"Shooting star!" Thomas squealed. "Make a wish!"
I wish I can have Thomas forever, Minho thought, and when Thomas asked with his adorable puppy eyes, he replied: "If I told you, it wouldn't come true."
~~~~~~~~~~~~ #3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Minho?" Thomas said, blinking owlishly. "Can I sleep with you?" The innocent way he said those words almost made Minho choke. "It's cold tonight."
Oh. Oh. Leave Minho to make a big deal out of nothing. "I thought you were going to ask to get laid."
Thomas snickered. "Why would I ask? I could totally get laid!" He could, but Minho didn't tell him that.
"Sure, shank," Minho said instead. "Totally."
Thomas, not waiting for Minho's response, positioned himself in the middle of Minho's bed. The little slinthead..."Some room for me?" Minho said sarcastically, raising a bushy brow at the scene on the bed. "It's my bed?"
"It's mine now," Thomas declared, making a snow angel motion with his arms. His head was in a cute but genuine bird's nest on top of his head, and his cheeks had a bright flush that Minho wanted to kiss. "I've set the flag first."
Great. He would be cuddling with Thomas tonight, then.
Minho lifted Thomas and threw him unceremoniously onto the other side of the bed. "Move over, you shank."
Thomas groaned, already looking fast asleep. Minho squeezed onto the left side of his queen-sized bed and turned them both over to face the window. The window was on, and from there, the moonlight illuminated Thomas' bright, pale skin that was dotted with beauty marks, like pepper scattered onto a white sheet of paper.
"Thanks, Min," Thomas slurred from the depths of sleep, turning to face the window as well. This new position conveniently let Minho spoon Thomas, and for Thomas to wiggle himself into the curve between Minho's thighs and stomach, but neither were complaining about that. "Good night."
"Night, shank," Minho returned, and let himself fall asleep to the smell of Thomas' strawberry shampoo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ #4 ~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Seriously, Minho?" Thomas groaned. "You didn't ask Sonya out? What is wrong with you?" For over a year, Thomas had been trying to set Minho up with people he would like, and ones that deserved his amazing friend. Namely, someone who wasn't him. Completely different from him. "Why must you make my job so complicated? I'm trying, you know?"
"Maybe it's because there's already someone I want to date, Thomas," Minho growled exasperatedly, pacing in circles around their bench.
"Then why don't you?" Thomas murmured. Why wouldn't Minho date someone he wanted to?
"Because that person seems to be under the impression that I want to date other people," Minho said, looking straight at Thomas. It was like he was staring into Thomas' soul and telling him to "get lost, I've got somebody better and you'll never be that 'somebody'."
Thomas sniffled slightly, but kept it to himself. His best friend deserved the best, and though Thomas didn't think that person deserved Minho (since let's face it, Minho is amazing and no one deserves him), he could stand by his side. "I could try to help you convince them?"
Minho plopped down onto the sofa and laid his head back. "Why must you do this to yourself, Thomas?"
Thomas cocked a brow. He was radiating confusion by then. If Minho didn't want him to help, what did he want? "Do what?"
"I'm not!" Thomas retorted. He wasn't, right? Nobody was good enough for Minho.
"You're the person I want to date, Thomas!" Minho yelled, making Thomas jump into the air. "You're the one who keeps setting me up with other people! I just want to date you!" He rolled his eyes at the amber eyed boy who was frozen ridged, his hands clasped on his lap.
"You...want to date...me?" Thomas inquired, blinking slowly. He couldn't believe this was happening.
"Yes, I want to date you, Thomas," Minho rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to Thomas on the bench.
Thomas looked up at the stars. "I want to date you, too."
Minho wagged a finger at him. "We will talk about this insecurity thing, shank," he warned, but made no move to do it before pulling Thomas into a kiss.
As the two melted into the rejoice of their mouths, Thomas thought to himself: this is my favourite memory.
(Bonus: they get married under the moon and stars, laid stark for all to see.)
In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the quoteonlyprompts collection.
Prompt(s):
"I don't need a wand/weapon to knock you into next week."
This fic was also inspired by this imagine by imagine-thominho. "Imagine Minho bringing flowers to Thomas every day, because they never had flowers in the Glade."
***
It was a shriek that awoke Minho from his afternoon nap.
A shriek very alike to the ones of fear he had heard when they were back in the Scorch that had him awake instantly. He looked around, thrashing wildly, trying to identify the threat. He flailed for a bit only to notice Thomas with his brown eyes wide open, huddled into a ball in the corner. Of course, the girly shriek had belonged to Thomas.
Minho stopped finding it funny after he looked at the condition of his friend. His shallow breaths were very fast and his glassy eyes were wide open but unseeing, tears falling rapidly down his cheeks. Minho was by his side in a second. "Thomas? You okay, Shank?"
"Griever!" Thomas shrieked, pointing to the floor. Minho looked. There, on the floor, was a harmless spider. Not in Thomas' eyes, though. Because in Thomas' eyes, that harmless spider was a Griever, a monster of the maze. It did somewhat resemble a Griever, with 8 legs and a shiny black body. All in all, though, Minho was certain this spider was harmless compared to what they had gone through.
Just as Minho put his arms around Thomas, Harriet burst in. "What happened? Who's–––" Her voice died away after she saw Minho in the corner, arms around Thomas protectively. "Is he okay? Panic attack?" She asked sympathetically. They all experienced them – the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, as the doctor had called it. In Minho's opinion, it was no way to sum up all the Gladers and Group B girls had been through.
Minho nodded silently, pointing to the spider. "Griever," he said simply, but Harriet understood, her eyes widening. She nodded.
Harriet stalked to the corner that Thomas and Minho were in, unbeknownst to Thomas, and stepped on the spider, killing it. Thomas' shaking slowly died down after seeing his "threat" had been eliminated. "Take care of him, alright?" She said, shooting him a smile and jogging out the tent.
Ever since they'd gotten to Paradise, Minho and Thomas had made friends with the Group B girls. Scratch that. Thomas had made friends with the girls and Minho was Thomas' friend, so the girls begrudgingly, he might as well admit, got to know him too.
He was certain that half of his friendships had started with Thomas. Small, adorable Thomas who could not help but be likeable. His somehow still innocent demeanour (even after the trials) attracted many people to like him, including Minho when he was in the Glade. The shank was just so curious with his wide Bambi eyes darting back and forth, chocolate brown hair, and lean frame.
Minho didn't know when he had noticed that he was somewhat attracted to Thomas, but he'd same sometime during the Scorch, perhaps when Thomas got shot. Minho's (after he saw the bullet lodged in the pale flesh) vision had turned into red. He only saw in shades of red as he pounced onto the crank, beating him all the way to death.
"Ya know, I have an extreme fear of spiders, too," Minho started talking lowly so he didn't startle Thomas.
"Arachnophobia," A weak, quiet voice mumbled into his chest. The warm breath fanning his t-shirt and vibrating against the muscles had him sighing internally. Thomas was okay. He'd be fine. Minho would help him.
"What?" Minho asked, cocking his head sideways.
Thomas raised his head from Minho's chest. He had bed-hair, even though he didn't sleep, and it was adorable. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and the moles on his cheeks were stained with tear tracks. Nonetheless, he smiled, and it looked like a real smile. Minho was proud to say that he was one of the few people in Paradise that had seen Thomas' genuine smile. He huffed. "It's called 'arachnophobia'. An extreme fear of spiders."
Minho snorted. "Know-it-all."
Thomas' next smirk was forthcoming. "Watch it, I don't need a weapon to knock you into next week. Besides, I thought we were beyond the name-calling?"
Minho ticked off his fingers. "Shank, shuck-face, piece-of-klunk, Greenie, and let's not forget Subject A2, to be killed by Group B." Minho knew making jokes about WICKED was okay with Thomas. The first time after he had done it, he had apologised over and over again. Thomas had cut him off, telling him that making jokes about it helped him move on.
Thomas stuck his tongue out. "I'm pretty sure the girls don't want to kill me now, especially Sonya." Sonya loved Thomas the most. Not that way, of course, Minho would have killed her if she dared. Thomas wasn't his, but he was his best friend and he was not going to let another girl steal him from Minho's grasp.
Minho glared playfully. "Such a shame that is, too." He was sure Thomas was going to reply with a lame comeback and he was ready for it.
But no. He was not ready for the look that followed. Thomas gasped, widening his eyes and pouting. His big brown eyes were wide and watery and the brown and (very) long eyelashes were not helping, neither were the small, plump rosy-strawberry pink lips that jutted out slightly. Thomas' master pout. Oh, no.
Minho had been first subjected to this pout in the first week of paradise. Thomas had wanted Minho's last orange and Minho refused to give it to him. The next second, Thomas had pulled his look and Minho had discovered that his hand was obediently handing the precious orange to Thomas, who stopped his pout immediately and ate the orange.
Minho had stared, dumbfounded, at the cute boy who had juice smeared all over his face. Minho was weak for Thomas, apparently. He questioned why Thomas didn't just use that look on Alby when he wanted to become a runner. It couldn't just be Minho who succumbed to Thomas' spell...or was it?
After a month of practice, Thomas' puppy look was polished and perfected and Minho hated it but loved it, too. He was sure he had used all the acronyms of "adorable" he knew to describe Thomas, which honestly, wasn't many. Only adorable, loveable, and cute. He was sure that Thomas knew more (the shucking genius, how??) but he was definitely not going to ask Thomas to find words to describe himself, not that he would know of...
Minho relented, making a face, but relenting all the same. "I hate you, Thomas," he muttered.
Thomas' reply was "You love me, Babe." What. Oh, oh. Little did Thomas know that it was true, and not in the way he thought it was. Because Thomas was the most oblivious person there ever was. Apparently, Minho's love declaration hadn't been enough. Friends always said 'I love you' in sappy tones? Somehow, in Thomas' world, they did. Minho wondered what world Thomas lived in.
Minho was pretty sure he'd dislocate his jaw if he didn't close his mouth now. So, forcing his jaw closed before Thomas noticed his gaping mouth, he swallowed drily. Thomas had no idea what he did to Minho. That or he was a prostitute in his past life. It was highly possible, judging by his looks. Have you seen the kid? He's always licking his lips and arrrrghhhhh!
Minho wanted to strangle Thomas and kiss him silly at the same time.
***
Minho was taking a walk along the meadow for his break day. It was Thomas' break, too, but he was with Brenda. Minho couldn't say he wasn't jealous.
He was actually on a pity walk because why should Thomas have him? Maybe because he was always there for Thomas? Where was Brenda in the Glade?
He was currently wandering around, humming as he plucked flowers. The meadow had plenty of flowers. The Glade didn't have any. Minho didn't know when he had became such a sap, but he was. Currently picking flowers (totally not for Thomas).
"Hey, Minho, come here!" Sonya called, beckoning him to where she and Harriet were resting on the rocky terrain.
Minho, against his smarter mind, walked over to where Sonya sat. "What's up?"
"You like Thomas, don't you?" Harriet said bluntly. Though it was phrased as a question, it was obviously a flat statement. Harriet said it like it was a proven fact, which it was.
"I don't!" Minho groaned. "I don't like Thomas! Why should I like him? He's brave and amazing and I ––––"
"Calm down, Prince Charming," Sonya drawled, making a pacifying gesture with her palms. "You're incriminating yourself and it's pitiful." She and Harriet exchanged looks, both shaking their heads. "Just confess! Harriet confessed to me and we're together, now."
"What am I supposed to say? Thomas, I love you? Thomas, would you be my boyfriend? Thomas, would you marry me?" Minho said sarcastically, holding out the makeshift bouquet of flowers.
"I would say yes," a shy voice behind Minho peeped. Minho's heart sunk and started beating like crazy inside his stomach.
This could not be happening! Thomas was ––– wait, what? "What did you say?" Minho demanded, his eyes widening as he flipped around to face Thomas.
Thomas shrunk down from his fierce glare, his shoulders curling forward and his head bowed down, casting his Bambi eyes to the grass. "I said...I-I s-said 'I would say y-yes'," Thomas stammered, his face going red. "Or was it a joke?"
Minho sighed. Oblivious-Mode, as usual. "Did it sound like a joke?" He asked, tilting Thomas' head up so he could gaze into the sparkling orbs.
"Well, yeah, why would someone like you want to be with someone like me? Everyone in Paradise –––"
Being bad with words, Minho wrapped his arm around Thomas' waist (the other one still clutching onto the flowers) and dipped him backwards, quickly slamming his lips bruisingly onto Thomas'. Thomas made a stifled moan behind them but then relaxed into the kiss, returning it feverishly. The two lips were a bit awkward with each other, but that was to be expected – after all, neither of them had been kissed many times.
The kiss continued until both of the boys broke apart simultaneously, panting for air. Minho, after getting a good few breaths in, took a look at Thomas. He was pleased with what he saw. The boy's pupils were blown wide and there was only a tinge of the honey amber irises. He was still chasing after Minho's lips, looking very dazed. He was also breathing very heavily through his kiss swollen red lips.
Minho grinned and a wave of possessiveness rushed over him. Thomas is mine, he thought.
"M-Minho?" Thomas stammered. "What...what are we?"
Minho smirked, his old confidence coming back again. "The offer of dating still stands, you know..." he said teasingly, raising the bundle of flowers.
Thomas grinned, his usual grin back. "The answer also stands. Yes, a million times over," Thomas almost squealed, gingerly taking the flowers as if he didn't believe they existed.
They were staring into each other's brown eyes intently before Harriet interrupted abruptly. "Excuse me, but there are children here and that kiss was definitely not appropriate for their age..."
Thomas and Minho shared looks in sync and started to kiss again in the same way as last time, with Minho dipping Thomas at the waist, the flowers long forgotten. No worries, Minho could get more for his boyfriend later.
***
This one's a bit longer than my usual fics, but I hope you enjoyed it! I apologise for the fact that this amazing prompt was not in the spotlight! Thank you, Anonymous for the prompt and thank you, imagine-thominho for the head canon.
