hiii <333
I came across your 'subspace' newtmas dialogue and I was instantly enamoured by your work!
I was wondering if maybe you could write something smutty with a subby!Thomas (from Maze Runner) where reader is the only female in the Glade (and was kind of one of the first to be brought there) and he's just like following her around like a lost puppy and she finds him totally endearing so she acts literally like the most sweet and loving girl in the world to him (to the others she's more like a kind "okay, I knwo you exist, kiss kiss, now fuck off /affectionately).
So one day Thomas just kind of randomly wakes up in the middle of the night all needy and whiny because he had a very explicit wet dream but he woke up before he could finish :(
And he's all whiny and subby while clinging to reader and begging her to please make it better? (maybe with Thomas having a few orgasms but still being hard inside her because she just feels so good) and reader being all sweet, cooing and praising him for being the best boy while Thomas' just a melted puddle in her arms.
hi darling! thank you so much for your support, you're so kind <3
it's difficult for thomas to openly admit that he's in need of help, that he's incapable of solving a predicament on his own, but with a tail tucked in between his legs, he rolls over, face stamping into your ribcage. that's the first thing you feel, and then it's the firm dick against your thigh, announcing its appearance through the damp patch in his slacks.
you hide your eyes under a crooked arm, chest still heavy with fatigue as fingers curl into your shirt, twisting the worn fabric over trembling knuckles. "hey," you whisper through the morning air, and his curls are matted with sweat when you find them. "what's the matter, huh?"
he's wordless in his response, nose finding a slot between two ribs when he rolls over onto his belly. his breath is hot against your exposed navel, and you huff. "come up here, tommy, c'mere."
he scrambles, clammy palms smearing against your hips, and your own cradle his scruffy jaw, drawing him in close to seal a kiss over a mole. "get your dick out, tommy," you try to keep the laughter in your tone to a minimum, but it still seeps through.
the ties on his pants are too taught, and his forehead falls against your collarbone as he tries harder to undo it, baritone grumbling with despondency. "you're fine, sweetheart," you coo, working your hands around the waistband of your shorts so you can shimmy them down your thighs. "take a deep breath and try again, you've got it."
thomas shuffles awkwardly, elbow knocking into the fatty innards of your thigh, and finally his cock is free, and searching hopelessly for the slick slot between your thighs. he finds it, and nearly splits you with the forceful shove of it. he's so close, his pre lubrication enough, and he swears he sees stars behind the eyelids he allows to slip over his tired eyes. "oh god," are the first words of the night, and his enraptured face slots under your jaw.
your legs fall further open, thighs tensing when the head of his cock kisses against your cervix, thomas anxious to shove every last inch of his aching dick into your cunt. it takes one, two, and three thrusts until his abdomen tightens above yours, muscles seizing when he cums. his spend floods against your cervix, tacky, thick and warm inside you, pubic bone brushing against your under-stimulated clit when he shifts. "sorry, sorry," he pants against the hollow of your throat, trying to peel himself away from your body.
"no, baby, it's okay," you assure, aiding him in finding your pussy again once he's slipped out. it's left coated with the viscous white, and you whine yourself when the head of it accidentally shoves against your clit.
you roll your hips once he's found the weepy hole again, adjusting to the girth again, and grunting when he drops his weight back onto you. "you can stay here for a sec, okay?" you pant, carding your fingers through the damp hair at the back of his neck. "just give you a minute to let your head settle down a bit, i've got you."
"you didn't even cum," he grouses against your cheek, and you hum.
"i know," you murmur, tightening your fingers around his curls. "you can help me after you've slept a little longer, hm? just stay here with me for right now. you've been a good boy, sweetheart, just sleep."
hello may I have a thomas (hehehe I’m back) httyd au when the reader is the daughter of a chief but it’s Thomas who discovered a night fury the first. And try to make her warm up to it (and to HIM) also please
'A Way Out' - Thomas
masterlist
One of these days, you’re finally going to have everything under control. Growing up the daughter of the chief, you’ve had the perfect view of the maelstrom of chaos surrounding your family, how the singular burden of leadership means you’ll never have a waking moment of peace. For such a tiny village, Berk seems to have no shortage of problems. It’s honestly quite remarkable, if it weren’t for the fact that they’re all continually laid at your doorstep.
Your father has borne this burden for years, never backing down no matter how great or small the woes brought before him. As his daughter, you’ll inherit the title of chief some day, hopefully far into the future, so your father has taken to roping you into his chiefly duties as a sort of training process. You shadow him in meetings, you listen to the complaints of the townspeople, and recently he’s even allowed you to make decisions on public matters, albeit only the small ones.
You’re glad to be able to help your village, even in the small, carefully limited way permitted by your father, but you’d be lying if you said it was all smiles and well wishes. It feels like there’s always someone left jilted and sour-faced by one of your decisions, even when you’ve spent far too much time deliberating. Everything has a trade-off, every good choice has unintended consequences. You know that’s the lesson your father hoped you’d understand, but it’s so hard to accept. You hate letting people down, so you can’t help but overthink everything, trying to find the impossible decision that lets you make everyone happy. Very rarely does that ever play out in your favor, but you still hold out hope.
Hope, however, is a fleeting thing, and certainly not something that can survive long in a Viking village. If it weren’t enough to have burly, disagreeable warriors all trapped together on an inhospitable rock, constantly in danger of running out of resources or getting on each other’s nerves, you have to face one big problem that blows everything out of proportion. Life wasn’t difficult as is, so your ancestors had to move to an island home threatened by dragons.
Dragons. Behemoths of scale and talons scorching your homes and carrying off your livestock. Your father is obsessed with them, of finding some way to their labyrinthine nest and slaughtering the lot of them. He dreams of the day when he can eradicate the disease of dragons and protect everyone for good. It seems an impossible task– how could anyone fight against something like that– but if anyone were to do it, Chief Janson seems the best suited for it. He’s fiendishly clever and brutal with his methods. There is no bridge he wouldn’t burn to end the dragon threat, once and for all.
For years, you’ve watched the warriors of the village setting out to slay the dragons that plagued your home, mostly to mixed results. A successful raid will be rewarded by a vicious slaughter one week later, or they’ll manage to keep their homes from burning down one night only to lose an entire street a few days afterwards. It’s a constant battle, ever changing, ever dangerous. You’ve begged your father to let you join the warriors, but he’s never let you, not until you were old enough.
Secretly, awfully, you think Chief Janson doesn’t keep you from the dragons because he’s worried you’ll get hurt, but because he thinks you’re too young to handle yourself. If you went out in a blaze of glory, cementing the legacy of your people, stopping the tide of dragons, your father would be delighted. If you embarrassed him by putting on a poor performance in front of his people, Janson would wish you had just died instead. He’s more of a schemer than he ever has been a father, and even if he says he loves you, he loves his vengeance more. To disappoint him would be deadly. It is a fate you cannot allow.
So, when your father finally announced that this was the year you’d be allowed to take part in dragon training, you knew that this opportunity wasn’t just a privilege but an expectation. A winner is announced among the students every year, and if it isn’t you, if you cannot prove yourself as worthy of your father’s legacy, he might honestly just offer you as bait to the dragons then and there. At least then you would be of use to him.
In order to win the coveted title of best among the dragon trainers, you’ll have to beat out the other students. The competition is mixed this year– a few top contenders, like always, and those on the outskirts. There’s Gally, the stonemason’s son. You think he could out-wrestle a dragon even without training. Minho is lithe and fast, and still quite strong even if not quite at Gally’s level. Newt, a farmer’s boy, doesn’t even need to be here, everyone knows he’ll be a future advisor to your council one of these days. In fact, you’re fairly sure he’s more trusted to solve conflicts than you, and you’ve got the direct tie to the chief. You’d be jealous of his clear favor were it not for the fact that he’s a genuinely nice guy, someone you consider a friend.
They’ll be your toughest competitors, strength and speed and skill. There are a few other sons and daughters, no one really worth considering, and then there’s– well, there’s Thomas, but that’s an entirely different conversation altogether. Thomas– he tries, you think, he really does, but Thomas is better known for his mishaps than his successes. He’s attempted many different professions, but after nearly breaking Gally’s foot by dropping a heavy stone a hair’s breadth from the older boy’s boot, then outright refusing to join the butchers, then dozing off at a council of the elders, he’s shown less promise than most. Right now, they’ve stuck him in the smithy, somewhere he’s not completely terrible, for his strength to improve while he keeps out of trouble.
Thomas is somewhat of a nuisance to most of the village. He’s best at appearing when you least want him, always snooping around like he’s suspicious of the very walls that surround you. If he’s looking for a way out, though, he’ll be hard-pressed to find it. Your village is tucked into rocky precipices that plunge to the ocean below. It’s this life or no other, something even the always-questioning Thomas has to accept.
Your father seems to have written Thomas off completely. There was hope for him at some point– his mother was a prominent council member, and he was effortlessly brave growing up, always running ahead of the pack, but then he kept running and refused to settle down. He’s too flighty, so claims your father, too wild. He’ll never fit in.
You, on the other hand, have a less critical view of the boy. Thomas was always kind to you growing up, even if your father stopped allowing you to be near him once it became clear that your playmate might convince you to run from your problems instead of facing them head on and screaming a war cry like any proper Viking. What you remember was a nice boy, if quiet at times, who looked at the world like a puzzle to be solved. He fascinated you, the way his curiosity never failed him. You’d love to read his mind someday, to find out all the things he’s learned that you could only imagine.
To you, Thomas is a bated breath, a pull of air trapped in the lungs, stuck until ribs crack and bend and break. He will spend his whole life waiting for the one thing he’s meant to do, and when that day comes, he’s going to blow all of you away. You know it like muscle memory. His entire being, body and blood and mind, seems tense and ready for something that has never happened to him. There’s a sharpness in his eyes, a fuse in his mind ready to light. You can only wonder if he’ll ever stumble across his purpose, or if that bright fire in him will crumble to ash without even so much as a spark before it goes.
You watch him during dragon training when he isn’t looking. For someone everyone considers a fool, too busy running to stand and fight like a proper Viking, Thomas doesn’t seem particularly afraid of the fire-breathing monsters thrust before him. He takes proper care, of course, always keeping himself well out of reach of claws or fangs, but he isn’t running with fright or hiding behind wooden structures like some of the other would-be students. Instead, you swear Thomas is watching them, as if he knows some secret of theirs that you could only guess.
It confuses you. What has Thomas figured out? He manages to emerge from every dragon training session completely unscathed, even after that one Razorwhip that left everyone’s armor in tatters, even yours. Yet when the rest of you were trying to get ash off of your skin and mourning the deep scores in your shields, Thomas was totally fine. He griped with everyone else about how difficult the dragon had been, but not so much as a hair was out of place. Somehow, he’d figured out how to navigate the beast’s attacks, but he never bothered attacking, just kept himself safe. You’re fairly sure your father would consider that a coward’s plan, but you think there’s more to it. Thomas seems to understand the language of dragons, you just can’t fathom where he could have learned it.
Maybe you’re too focused on Thomas instead of actually fighting the beasts you were sent here to slay. Maybe that’s why Gally ends up getting the decisive blow on a Windstriker during one of the later lessons instead of you. Normally, it would have been no matter at all, you’d get the upper hand on a later day and show Gally up like usual, but your father had happened to be in attendance that afternoon. He was expecting a great show of your prowess, but instead he saw Gally win the accolades that day.
You dread returning home after the lesson, dragging your feet as if to fight off whatever’s waiting for you behind your front door. However, you can’t delay forever, and you know your father well enough to tell that any more dilly-dallying will only get you in more trouble than you are already, so you gather your spirits and head inside at last.
The chief is waiting for you by the great hearth, arms folded across his chest. He doesn’t bother with greetings, but since when has Janson let etiquette get in the way of what he wants?
“Is this how you spend every lesson?” Your father asks coldly. “You chase the dragon’s tail while someone else goes after the head? I was under the impression that I was raising a warrior, but I saw none out there in the arena today.”
You fight to keep your chin up, already wanting to shrink under the weight of his disapproval. “I let myself get distracted, it was my mistake. Clint had tripped and fallen, I was trying to pull him out of the way when Gally charged.”
Your father arches a brow. “That’s your excuse? One healer’s boy?”
“I was trying to prioritize the strength of the village,” you plead. “Isn’t that important for a chief?”
“What’s important is slaying a dragon when you see it,” your father says icily. “One dragon can slaughter a thousand healers. If this had been a real attack, you would have saved that boy only to see that Windstriker destroy half the village. You cannot let your emotions get in the way of your true purpose.”
You nod, but you still feel upset. “So, next time I should ignore a friend in need? How could I expect them to trust me? What if I needed help and they left me to die because I did the same to them?”
Your father scoffs. “No chief would need help. If you were ever in a situation in which you had to rely on one boy to save you, I would rather–”
Stupidly, you interrupt, fury radiating through you. “You’d rather I died, right? Better a dead warrior than a living embarrassment.”
Your father refuses to rise to the bait. “You seem to know my position perfectly. Why should I bother to agree with it?”
You shake your head disgustedly. “Maybe I wanted you to contradict me for once. Maybe I wanted to believe that, as my father, you cared about my life in any way.”
“No Viking needs petty condolences,” your father sneers. “I don’t recall raising you to rely on pretty lies. The truth should be sufficient, and if it doesn’t make you feel better, maybe you should try improving yourself. I’ll never lie to you, Y/N. I’ll never tell you I need you if I don’t.”
The words cut to the quick. He’s hinted at this before, but he’s never said it, not outright. Your throat burns, and before you can say something to land yourself even further in your father’s disregard, you turn and head for the door. You’re sure he’ll hate you even more for it, for running instead of facing what bothers you, but you’ve had enough fighting for the day. Just once, you want to be enough for somebody. Just once, you want to matter.
You’re through the village and into the surrounding forest in the blink of an eye. You’re not sure where you’re going, only that it cannot be here. You vaguely remember seeing Thomas walking down into these parts of the woods a few times, and the thought fills you with an odd sense of relief. Thomas has figured out how to survive despite the ire of the villagers. The comments and mutterings about his isolation and unusual behavior seem to wash off of him. You could learn a thing or two from him, or at least you could commiserate.
Your eyes prick as you remember the harsh words from your father. He’s been in a worse mood than usual, ever since the dragon raid a week or two ago. There had been a clear spell of attacks for a bit, and your father’s confidence had grown, assuming it had been his direction in leading raids and fighting off the beasts that had finally scared them off. No sooner had he said that, though, than your village had suffered one of the worst raids in a while. There were even rumors of a Night Fury sighting, although no one had been able to land so much as a scratch on the thing, and those that did catch a glimpse ended up with the healers, badly burned and talking gibberish.
Your progress through the forest is harsher than usual, twigs snapping under your feet as you irritably swat low-hanging branches away from your face. It feels as if no one wants you to succeed, no one cares about you, it’s just as your father said–
The brush clears away, and you find yourself in a clearing surrounded on all sides by swooping faces of pale rock. You’re not alone, either, Thomas is sitting on a smooth shore by a small lake and writing something in that journal he always carries around. He’s clearly lost in thought, and only looks up when you’re quite nearby to him. Since you’re not the closest of friends, you weren’t expecting an enthusiastic greeting, but you certainly didn’t think he would jump up immediately, eyes full of panic, and start trying to force you back the way you’d come.
“What are you doing?” You ask, confused.
Thomas shakes his head frantically. “Nothing. Nothing! Just, uh, writing. Super boring. Say, I think some of the healers wanted to see you about something? Something important, for sure. You’d better leave as fast as you can and–”
You shake your arm free. “Why are you acting so weirdly? Are you hiding something?”
“No, not at all,” Thomas says suspiciously, “I hate hiding. I’ve never hid. You should definitely go, though.”
The sound of movement echoes across the clearing, and Thomas steps forward to try and block your view of whatever is happening behind him. It’s too late, though, you’ve already ducked around him and seen– and seen–
Thomas isn’t just hiding a stray cat or unusual collection of runes. No, his secret is dangerous and terrible, so completely unexpected that all thoughts of the argument you’d had with your father are erased from your head in the blink of an eye. Climbing down from one of the far rock walls is a dragon, and not just any dragon, either. You’ve heard whispers of those ink-jet scales, the wings that could cover an entire house, the brilliant green eyes that stare straight to your soul.
“That’s a Night Fury!” You hiss, eyes wide.
Thomas winces. “Would you believe me if I said it wasn’t?”
You’re unable to tear your eyes from the dragon. “Why aren’t you running? We should be running.”
Thomas shakes his head. “No, don’t run! Please. I can explain.”
You shoot him a suspicious look. “You were certainly in a hurry to get me out of here earlier, but now you want me to stay? You had better explain yourself.”
“I will,” Thomas pleads, “I just need you to trust me, alright? I was hoping to get you out of here so you wouldn’t see him, but it’s too late for that, obviously, so I’m going for a different approach. I think you two can be friends.”
“Friends,” you repeat dubiously. “You want me to be friends with a Night Fury?”
“I’m friends with a Night Fury,” Thomas says pleasantly. “He’s actually pretty great, disregarding the obvious attitude issues. Serious entitlement, I’m telling you.”
“Obviously,” you repeat faintly.
Thomas makes a face. “Let me start from the beginning. I found Toothless after that bad raid a few weeks back. He didn’t like me at first, but we’ve gotten to trust each other. Look, I can prove it. I’ll introduce you.”
“That’s alright,” you say hastily. “I think I can go without introductions. In fact, I’m pretty sure I can just leave right now, and it won’t be an issue at all.”
“I think it’s a little late for that,” Thomas says, forcing calm into his words. “Toothless wants to meet you.”
You start to ask him what he means, and then you happen to glance over your shoulder and you realize that the Night Fury has crept up on you while you were talking. It’s impossible that a creature that large could move without making a sound, but now it’s regarding you from just a few steps away. You’re certain it could lunge and tear out your throat in the blink of an eye, or bite your head off, or incinerate you with that infamous fire–
“Stay calm,” Thomas tells you firmly. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear it. Toothless, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of mine, alright? That means she’s a friend of yours, too.”
It is absolutely ridiculous, but you swear the dragon cocks its head as if it’s listening to Thomas. You’re still not sure why you both aren’t dead yet, but the dragon looks back to you expectantly, and you feel the odd urge to say something. “Hi, Toothless. It’s, uh, nice to meet you.”
Thomas nods. “That was great. Here, give him this.”
You risk a glance away from the Night Fury to realize that Thomas is handing you a large fish. You take hold of the slippery thing and hesitantly toss it to the dragon, who swallows it up in one gulp. The Night Fury tilts its head to the side, and if you weren’t absolutely crazy you’d honestly believe it smiles at you, leathery skin pulling a little away from its mouth. You smile back, and Toothless makes a sort of keening noise.
“Perfect,” Thomas says. “You can touch him, if you want.”
“I can?” You ask.
“Sure,” Thomas answered. “He’s spoiled, anyway. Might as well make it worse.”
He goes first, approaching the dragon and rubbing small circles into the scales above its nose. He nods at you to follow and you do, albeit much more slowly. Your breath catches when you place your hand on the black scales, certain your luck will run out and Toothless will bite you in half, but instead the dragon just sighs and leans into your touch.
You let out a surprised laugh. “This is crazy. You’re friends with a Night Fury.”
“You are too, now,” Thomas says. “If you bring him more fish, he’ll probably like you more than me.”
You shake your head, dumbstruck. “You amaze me, Thomas. I knew you had some sort of secret, but I never imagined this.”
Thomas looks over at you. “You thought I had a secret?”
“Not something as big as this,” you murmur, embarrassed, “It’s just– you’re good at dragon training, that’s all. Better than the rest of us. I just thought you studied a lot or something.”
Thomas snorts. “I’m awful at dragon training. I have yet to strike a single one of them, even the weak ones.”
“That’s on purpose, isn’t it?” You ask, realization dawning upon you. “You know how to live with the dragons because of Toothless, but you don’t want to hurt them, either.”
Thomas shakes his head, looking oddly guilty. “How could I? I mean, what if every dragon is just like Toothless? Dangerous, sure but so are humans. We just keep attacking each other for no reason, but if a human and a Night Fury can get along, I figure the same is true for everything else. My friendship with Toothless feels more real than any fake battle in dragon training. This can’t be wrong. I know that somehow, I don’t know why. I can’t help but believe that we aren’t supposed to fight them, even if that’s why we were put on this island in the first place.”
He looks suddenly abashed. “You probably don’t want to hear that, though. Chief’s daughter and all. I don’t mean to insult your father or his way of ruling, it’s just–”
“No, you should,” you interrupt. “He’s wrong. Wrong about a lot. He doesn’t care about the village, just slaughtering dragons. Growing up, I thought a chief was supposed to protect his people, but my father’s only obsession is killing. That’s no way to lead your people. He’ll get all of us killed in the name of salvation.”
Thomas stares at you, respect blossoming in his eyes. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
You let out a quiet half-laugh. “I’m the one who knows it the best. I see him all the time. He– he’s worse than you could ever imagine.”
Thomas reaches out, gently laying a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, if you ever need an escape, you’ve always got us. You know, all the best friends are dragons or loner misfits.”
“I don’t think you’re a misfit,” you say. “Never have. I think you’re smarter than the rest of us. Smart enough to figure out that we’ve trapped ourselves in a war we’re not supposed to fight.”
Thomas smiles. “If anyone had to find out about Toothless, I’m glad it was you.”
You frown. “Why? Because I can protect him from my father?”
“No,” Thomas says, shaking his head, “Because I trust you. Always have. Your father has years of experience, and the council is fine, but whenever someone had to weigh in on a tough decision, you always gave the best advice. Even when no one could agree on anything.”
The words mean more to you than you could have expected. They’re enough to convince you to stick around a little longer than you planned, to talk idly with Thomas until the sun starts to dip over the horizon and you realize you’ve spent hours here instead of minutes. Thomas doesn’t seem to mind, in fact he appears glad for the company, for your company. You had always assumed he was perfectly fine on his own, but he opens up to you as if he had been waiting his whole life for you to get to know him.
Maybe that’s why you come back the next day, and the next. Thomas takes you up into the sky with Toothless, soaring until the whole world seems just a hazy smear of green and blue below you. Every ride is perfect, enough to steal the breath from your lungs with a rush of adrenaline, but it ends, it always ends. No matter how crisp the air, how far you soar, you always have to come back. You wish you could stay up there in the clouds forever, answering to no one, but there always comes the point when your feet touch back down, when you begin the slow trek back to your house, where the weight of your father’s disapproval threatens to pull you under.
You live for those stolen hours with Thomas. In just a matter of weeks, he seems to understand you better than any of your friends, even your father. It’s a welcome relief, especially since the time you spend in the company of Thomas’ Night Fury only serves to pull you down his path and all of a sudden you don’t want to slay any dragons, either. This only serves to make your father even more furious with you, so you sneak out to visit Thomas more often, and the cycle intensifies.
As the days tick down to the final day of dragon training, where one of you will have to actually slay a dragon, you get more nervous. You’re still in the lead, even despite your refusal to actually harm any of the dragons. That only means that you’ll be the one to do the bloody deed.
Thomas tries to help talk you through it, but neither of you can find a way out. “Just refuse,” Thomas urges. “They can’t make you kill it, right? If you found some way to rise above, maybe argue for working with them instead of against, if you had enough reason, maybe–”
“That would never work,” you laugh bitterly. “You don’t know my father, Thomas. You haven’t lived with him as I have. Every moment in his presence is a test. Every conversation is a demand to prove my worth. I hover on the knife’s edge of his approval, and if I ever fall, he’d have my head in a moment. I cannot disappoint him, Thomas, not like this. He would feed me to the dragons himself if I let him down in front of the whole village.”
Thomas sees the true fear written plainly on your face and reaches over to take your hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll find a way out, I swear it. Maybe I’ll crash your ceremony and stop the whole thing. They’ll think I’m just jealous, but I could get you out and they’d only blame me.”
You shake your head fervently. “Then they’d make me go after you. I’ll never betray you, Thomas, I swear it.”
“Then you have to know I’m not letting you do this alone, either,” Thomas says. “We’ll find a way.”
In the end, you leave the clearing together, no closer to a way out than you ever had been before. Running seems the only option, but you have no idea where you’d go. The only way out, it seems, is through.
When you get back to the village center, though, thoughts of dragon training are quickly swept from your mind. Everyone seems on high alert, rushing to the smithy to get more weapons and hurrying with shields and spears down to warboats waiting below.
You catch the arm of one of your father’s councilmen as he passes. “What happened?”
The councilman shakes his head darkly. “Some of our warriors went out for a raid on a nearby island. It should have been an easy task, but they were caught unawares by a nest of Grievers. We set off to save them, but we fear it’s too late.” He fixes you with a wary look, then continues. “Your father was among the first party.”
You draw in a sharp gasp, and the man leaves, pulled back into the throngs of rushing Vikings. You may not always get along with your father, but even he doesn’t deserve this fate. Grievers are monsters worse than dragons, worse than anything. Some say they clawed their way up from the very reaches of the land of the dead. They’re massive, sharp things that have killed dozens if not hundreds of warriors from your island home over the years. Dragons are smart, they could be trusted, as you’ve learned. Grievers are another story. There is no befriending a Griever. To see one is to accept your own death, and your father has been set upon by a nest of them.
As the village center quickly empties of people, you turn to Thomas. “We have to save them. We have to do something.”
Your voice catches on the word, and Thomas’s face twists to see you in pain. “We will, I swear.” A look of dawning realization crosses his countenance. “Actually, I think I have an idea. Gather your friends, tell them to meet me in the dragon training arena as fast as you can.”
You look at him questioningly, but Thomas doesn’t elaborate. There’s no time to ask, with every passing moment more of your people put themselves at risk, so you start to run. Thomas knows what he’s doing, you’re sure of it.
Soon enough, you’re in the arena. You managed to track down Gally, Newt, Minho, Winston, and a few others. When Thomas tells you all that he intends to rescue your father and his warriors by using dragons to fight the Grievers, no one believes him at first. It’s only when Thomas calls his Night Fury down from the skies that people start listening.
It takes less time than expected to coax the dragons out of their cages from training, to convince them to trust you, but then you’re up in the air, clutching at crevices in blue-green scales as you soar through the skies. Minho shoots through the air, racing Newt, who laughs delightedly as the wind pulls at his hair.
The laughter dies at once when you come upon the scene of the fight. Already, you see bodies crumpled on the ground, but you feel shamefully relieved to see your father isn’t among them. Thomas leads the charge down, and the terror on your villager’s faces when they see the dragons quickly melts into confusion when they realize you’re riding them.
The Grievers are deadly, awful things. You’ve never seen them face-to-face, only heard awful stories from people missing legs or eyes or lives. Even on dragonback, they pose a substantial threat, but slowly, tenuously, they succumb to the burns and slashes of your dragons. Once you’re sure the danger is past, you land your dragon and climb to the ground, searching the gathering crowds for your father.
He finds you soon enough. Your father stalks through the throngs of Vikings, eyes cold. “What is the meaning of this?”
You straighten up, forcing yourself to seem confident even if you don’t entirely feel it anymore. “We had to save you from the Grievers. This seemed the best way.”
“Dragons,” your father spits out. “You trusted dragons over your own people. You should have been down here fighting with the rest of us, but you turned to the beasts.”
“We saved your life,” you retort. “We were wrong about the dragons. They saved all of us today from the Grievers. Doesn’t that warrant a second chance?”
Your father scoffs. “No Viking would ally itself with a monster. You’ve disappointed me, Y/N, for the last time.”
Your eyes widen, but all of a sudden Thomas is emerging from the crowd and putting himself between you and your father. “You’re wrong, Janson. Y/N is more a Viking than you ever could be.”
The crowd behind you dissolves in shocked gasps. You try to tell Thomas to stand down, but he shakes his head, as obstinate as ever. “Y/N would have given her life to save you, to save this whole village. She trusted the dragons because she would do anything to protect her people. If you think that’s a failure, then you have no idea what I think of you.”
Your father’s eyes flash, and he opens his mouth to argue, but he’s interrupted by a voice from the crowd. “He’s right,” a woman says. You recognize her at once– Ava Paige, one of the village’s finest warriors. She’s covered in long scars from a Griever attack, making her one of only a small handful that had survived such a deadly assault. “I see nothing wrong with their plan. Better than they acted quickly to ally themselves with the dragons then watch all of us die throwing ourselves at the Grievers.”
You smile thankfully at her. Your father turns to Ava, then takes in the approving looks being exchanged by the rest of the village and realizes at last that he alone has a problem with your plan. He forces a thin smile. “Fine,” he says briskly. “All glory be yours for this battle. I only hope that your dependence on the dragons does not prove dangerous in the end.”
“It won’t,” you vow. Your father seems to disagree with this, but he heads back into the crowds to the boats, leaving you with Thomas.
“Thank you,” you whisper to him.
“It’s nothing,” he says. “I’ve been wanting to fight with him for a while, anyway. No one should make you feel so badly about yourself. There isn’t a single thing about you that could ever disappoint me, and I’ll tell that to the whole village if I have to.”
As it turns out, he doesn’t need to tell the whole village anything. He says enough when he kisses you, right there on the bloodsoaked beach, under the light of the afternoon sun. If this is victory, you want all of it. The only glory you would ever want is here, with him, knowing at last that you’ve proved yourself. It’s better than you could have ever imagined.
I love Thomas. I absolutely do. I would do anything for him. Anything at all.
But he didn't pick up on hints. I had been trying all day, and he just wasn't getting it.
So if he didn't understand this one I would actually have to blow my head off.
I always wear a long shirt to bed. Always.
But no shirt sounds like the only way right now.
Coming inside with my bra on, I climbed beside him. With my fingertips on his arms, I took a breath when he finally turned around to kiss me goodnight.
“Are you hot?”He asked, literally still not getting it.
“God damnit Thomas,”I groaned. Before he could ask or say anything I climbed on top of him. Tugging on his hair, I smashed my lips against his while grinding in his clothed cock. Slipping my tongue into his mouth, I kept pulling his hair with one hand while my other was on his jaw, keeping him to me. With him being completely still though, I pulled away.
He didn't look not in the mood though. Not at all. With his hair tangled and that dazed look in his eyes and his lips parted, he stared at the ceiling.
“Thomas? Are you-”
Before I could say anything else he unclipped my bra, throwing it to the ground. Flipping me over, he threw the blanket off the look at me before tearing my panties off.
“You’ve been wanting this since this morning. All day. I knew. I knew the entire time,”He admitted.
“Why the hell wouldn't you say anything?”
“Wanted to see how far you would take it. And the longer I made you wait, the harder you’d want to be fucked. You’d want it real rough, and that's what I’m gonna give you,”He said firmly, taking his boxers off. Aligning himself with my entrance, he then slammed into me before I could even blink. With whimpers immediately leaving me, I threw my head back. Putting his hands on my shoulders, he held me down as he kept pulling out and slamming into me. With the bed already creaking, I felt my walls clench around him. Not that it was a surprise. With how wet I had been all day and the inhumane pace, this was almost a given.
“You want everyone to know who’s fucking you? You want them to know how rough you want it?”He grunted. With my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I pushed my hips up as the knot in my core formed. Twitching inside of me, with one last thrust, we both came.
Usually, that would be the end. That would be it. He’d make me cum, he’d cum inside of me, and he’d hold me while whispering sweet nothings until we went to sleep.
Instead, he kept going. He kept slamming into me as I let out strangled sounds.
“What are you doing?”I got out through whimpers.
“Fucking you. You’ve been wanting it rough so that's how you're gonna get it,”He grunted. With my body shaking, I tried to drag my nails down his back just for him to wrap his hand around my wrists and pin them above my head. Pressing his chest against mine, he used the other to pull my hair so my mouth was against his. Shoving his tongue against mine, he kept going as tears of overstimulation filled my eyes. Tightening around him, I squirmed under him as he pulled my hair harder. While still doing that he sunk his teeth into my neck. With black dots clouding my vision, I came again. Thrusting into my twice, he did the same until he was spilling between my thighs.
“Do you want me to stop now, my pretty girl?”He genuinely checked, cupping my face as he kissed the tip of my nose.
“More,”I begged.
“Anything for you,”He nodded, a devious smile on his lips.
Grabbing my wrists, he put his arms beside my head as he started pulling out and slamming into me again. I was practically seeing stars. Arching my back, I whimpered as he kept his rough pace. Burying his face in my chest, he groaned against my skin, sending shudders down my body. Taking his mouth, he started sucking and kissing my nipple, making me throw my head back as the pressure in my core returned. Twitching inside of me, he moved his mouth back to my neck. As I couldn't even breathe, he pushed into me one more time, grunting in my ear. Letting out a strangled sound, I couldn't even keep my eyes open as he gave me the most toe curling, mind blowing, intense orgasm I had ever had.
Thrusting into me one last time, he made me let out a groan as he filled me up. Pulling out, he let go of my wrist as he looked at me. With both of us breathing heavily, we wore dazed grins as our bodies slowly came down from their unimaginable highs.
“That was,”He panted, rolling off of me.
“Fucking incredible,”I groaned.
“Yeah. Yeah, it really was,”He agreed, trying to pull me close just for my legs to seem to literally lock up.
“I don't think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow,”I admitted.
“Yay. Another great job done by me.”
“Thomas-”
“I mean oh no. That's just awful.”
“Thomas-”
“I’m kidding, my pretty girl. I’m kidding,”He promised, leaning over me and kissing my temple. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Even when you play dumb,”I grinned, wrapping my arms around him. Chuckling, he did the same, kissing my forehead again for a moment.
“And you love it. Especially, when it ends like this,”He teased.
tmr thomas x fem!reader smut where they're a couple, make it to the safe haven and they've been trying to have their first time together but they keep getting interupted until one day when they finally can.
and its just fluffy n stuff
𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕦𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 - thomas (t.m.r.) x reader
complete masterlist | the maze runner masterlist
words || 𝟛.𝟚𝕜
summary || in which the reader and thomas try to have their first time together - but keep getting interrupted
a/n || i have not read/watched the maze runner in forever
➵ i hope you like this @marmar-c it was a fun request and apologies for how long it took to come out
➵ 18+/MDNI content, individual warning below the cut
➵ not edited (yet)
➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!
warnings || fluff/smut
➵ unprotected p.i.v.
➵ orgasm denial (because of interruptions)
➵ oral (m receiving)
➵ handjob
➵ cum (tell me if i miss anything)
thomas was an early riser - whether it be to get an early head start on the maze in the past, or simply to enjoy the solitude that morning bought when he wasn't bombarded with the onslaught that were the other gladers - their fights, loud voices and boisterous actions.
now, though, he didn't enjoy them alone. instead, he would make the short trek out of his room to the adjacent one of his girlfriend, where he'd always find her sleeping soundly, curled up under her covers, even in warm weather.
he'd close the curtains for her if she'd forgotten, to shield her from the upcoming sunlight, and would choose whichever side she was less splayed across - a feat, as she really enjoyed stretching her body to its limit to fit each crevice of her bed - before slipping in beside her.
he'd take a moment to appreciate the soft, warm feel of her flesh against his own - usually bare or only lightly-clad - chest, wrapping a large hand over her midsection, and pushing her hair away from her pillow gently, greeted by a whiff of a distinctly sweet, almost floral scent.
he wouldn't sleep - he usually couldn't, once he'd already awoken - so, he'd allow his breaths to slow to match hers, he'd allow his muscles to relax against her, and allow his eyes to close, focusing on the effects on his other senses.
she could tell when he'd come, as the skin of her midsection would grow warmer, and she'd feel the back of her calves and feet entangle with another's. she wouldn't allow her eyes to open just yet, but would turn over to face him, wrapping her own arm around him. he felt so hot against her - a goddamn furnace - and she brings her head up so her nose grazes his own.
"hey." he mumbles, a whisper in the space between them
"g'd morning." she mumbles back, not moving her lips much and leaving her words a bit garbled. she brings a hand to her eyes to rub them, willing them open and hoping she didn't look too groggy.
she did, of course, making thomas exhale a laugh.
"you're so cute," she smiles, knowing that he's not being sarcastic.
"why, thank you." it's a jokingly dramatic response, and she finally pulls herself up a little, smoothing her hair and rubbing her eyes, "what time is it?"
"too early," he answers, pulling her back down. she laughs at the aggressive action, pulling away from him just slightly in order to look at him.
he always looked his best like this: still-there bed-hair and that morning calmness that came with no impending responsibilities. it was a good look on him, and she makes this clear, tilting up just slightly in order to bring her lips to his.
it's soft - but only for a moment - before a sense of desperation weaves through the both of them and, suddenly, she's gripping his biceps and he the flimsy material of her sleep-shirt bunched around her waist.
they didn't get many moments alone like this, but that worry that someone may walk in on them had stopped them from going much further than any above-the-clothes touching. besides, their lives had been so hectic until now that the simple pleasures of life were things they hadn't completely learned.
today, though, the throbbing between both of their thighs: her at his firm grip and him at her swallowed moans, had culminated in that lesson being necessary. her hand ventured down his torso, settling on the waistband of his trousers, not even bothering to take them off, and slowly reaching her fingers under them, feeling his warm cock jolt at her touch.
he detached from her, his head thrown back as he attempted to be quiet.
"fuck, baby-" he's got this apprehensive look in his eyes, but she needs this so much, letting her hands gently squeeze and release.
"please? please, lemme make you feel good - i just-" she doesn't finish, cut off by his vigorous agreement. smirking, she uses both her hands to grip his pants, pulling them down just enough to expose his cock to her. she traces her fingers up and down his length, feeling the telltale sign of his arousal on and over his tip. his shaky breaths right by her ears spur her hands to move just that bit faster. she's tempted to slip the covers off of them and go the whole way for the first time, and his lips on her neck to subdue his noises were definitely not deterring her from that plan.
what did deter her, however, was the sharp knock on the door, causing her to wrench her hand away and squeak in shock, as thomas attempts to not lose the friction of her hands, his hips bucking as he tried to chase the feeling.
"is thomas in there?" minho's voice is muffled, but obvious, through the door, as thomas's head tips backwards, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
"yeah - yeah, minho. s'everything alright?" she says it back, her hand still suspended in the air, embarrassed at being interrupted.
"breakfast's ready - get it while it's hot!" another voice - a female voice - shouts through the door in a way where it's obvious she's walking away - going to eat, presumably. she finally lets her tense muscles relax in the knowledge that it's not an emergency. she's almost inclined to slip her hand back under and finish the job, and when she looks over at her boyfriend, he seems incredibly interested in the idea, but a better plan springs to her head.
"we should get going, baby. they'll get suspicious." it's a meek excuse, but it's solidified by her rising from bed, causing him to groan, and follow her lead, pulling his clothes over himself.
blue balls didn't even begin to describe the tension that coiled in his muscles as he meekly sat down across from minho. he felt as though every sense was heightened, like when he'd jumped at a quiet clatter from inside the kitchen. his friends all watched over his antsy behavior, unsure of the reason for it.
on the other hand, his girlfriend - sat next to him - knew exactly what was wrong, and she used it to her advantage, by being more touchy than usual. a hand on his arm, or around his shoulders, or on his chest as she rose to get some water. it's like she'd left hand-prints in his already warm skin. it came to a head when the hand she'd already precariously been resting on his knee started venturing higher, trailing along the inseam of his pants.
he tries, god, he tries to ignore it, but it's all too much when her finger finally rests over the head of his cock, her palm encompassing him.
he chokes on his sip of water, causing it to spill all over him, and minho's eyebrows immediately furrow.
"you alright, man?" her hand's out from under the table, and is resting on his bicep.
"yeah, babe, are you feeling okay?" he glares at her, jaw clenched and eyes narrow. she looks back up at him innocently, though he can see the ghost of a devilish smile dance on her lips.
"'m'fine. just gonna go change." his food is practically untouched as he raises from his seat, hoping his situation isn't particularly obvious, as he heads back in the direction of his place. minho turns to her, a bit confused by the abrupt nature of his actions.
"'s'he okay?" she shrugs.
"maybe he slept wrong?" she pauses, contemplative, before raising up as well, "i'll go check on him." minho watches as she walks off as well, still a bit confused, before turning to gally, sat a bit away from him, who had an almost sour expression on his face.
"what's wrong?" why was everyone acting so weird today? minho thought, as gally looks at him incredulously, shocked he doesn't realize what was happening between the couple.
"you-? you know what, it's nothing. don't worry about it." it's dismissive, but minho shrugs his shoulders, figuring it was, in face, nothing.
in that time, she's knocking on his door, and, as soon as he realizes who it is he pulls her in, pushing her until she's facing his bed.
"fuck, what're you doing?" she mumbles, and he sighs.
"finishing what you started, baby." she smiles, looking back at him, before turning around.
"well, if you wanna finish, let's start here-" she lowers to her knees in front of him, and his head rolls back at the sight of her in the position. her fingers greedily clutch at his waistband, pulling his pants and boxers down in one motion.
he's aching, she can see it in the way his cock's pulsing, as she takes him in her palm, slowly - tortuously - stroking him as his hands weave through her hair. she can feel the lightest push against her head - to the point where he probably didn't even realize the action - and succumbed to his untold request, moving her head forward to gently wrap her lips around his tip.
"just - shit, just like that, baby." her tongue traces his head, as low moans escape him. she hums around him - something akin to a 'thank you', but all it translates to is increased sensation on his cock. his head tips back at the feeling, and his hand grips her head a little tighter, pushing her down a little further. she lets him, stilling her movements to focus on his guidance. he moves her head up and down his length, her tongue poking out along its underside, languidly lavishing the area, "you're so good - fuck me, you feel really good-"
he doesn't hesitate to continue praising her, before gently tugging her down and holding her there. immediately, her fingers reach up to grip his thighs, feeling the light - and then more serious gag at the sensation. he takes another moment to appreciate the pretty sight in front of - or under - him, before releasing her, letting her off her cock and allowing her to take deep breaths to account for her lack of oxygen.
"get up here for me, baby." he practically orders, taking her by her arms and helping her up, lightly pushing her against the bed, "first time - i'm not finishing in your mouth." she smiles, whole-heartedly agreeing with his plan, as she felt her own core throb with a need for friction.
he pushes her so that she's sitting on the bed, and, just as he goes to lay her down - there's another knock at the door.
"thomas - you said you'd help with fixing that problem on the east side." it's minho - again - calling thomas for, admittedly, a project he had signed up for the previous week, fixing some construction issue or something on the east side of the haven. admittedly, it'd seemed important work - until now, "we needa fix it quick, man - apparently it's gotten worse." thomas is literally stopped in his tracks, until she taps on his thighs, about chest level with her, essentially reminding him to get ready instead of staying still.
"c'mon, baby - go on." she mumbles, as she also rises, pulling her hair back. she waits as he gets ready, leaving the room and greeting minho - with a tone of voice that is a little distraught - making her smile.
on the other side of the door, minho's a little exasperated.
"how long does it take to change?" thomas looks confused, before remembering his lackluster excuse, and coughing.
"i - just tell me what the issue is, yeah?"
over the day, she'd continued with her own work, as thomas had continued with his. of course, both of them had been a bit distracted the whole day - unable to exactly focus when remembering what was waiting for them back home. their states were obviously noticed by the people around them - with both their friends stepping around them with quirked eyebrows or concerned impressions.
finally - believing he might actually be feeling ill - minho simply shrugs, telling thomas that maybe it'd be best he go back to his and sleep the day off. thomas was a little hesitant, but finally agreed - he wasn't exactly the biggest help in this state.
as he headed back, he swung by where she was, muttering a quick greeting to the others also working. she'd been taking a small break to clear her head of - well, the person now standing in front of her. her face lights up at the sight of him, wrapping him in a hug - though he's a little sweaty from his work earlier. one of her friends, in a similar manner to minho, urges her to head on home, and to pick up again the next day - a offer that she almost meekly accepts.
finally, the both of them are walking back towards her place.
she's got a bit of a pep in her step, and it makes him smile, his muscles aching - from his work, or from this morning, he wasn't sure - yet he knows exactly where her energy's coming from. she steps into her place, and he's right on her heels, pushing against her back as she laughs, trying to slip her shoes off as his hands relentlessly wander her body. finally, as she rises, she grabs his loose shirt, pulling him into her, capturing his lips against hers. he smiles into her mouth, and she hums contently - having a distinct feeling that it was the day they'd actually go all the way. her hands trail under his shirt until she pushes off of him for a moment, grabbing the bottom of the shirt and pulling it up and off of him. he smirks at her eagerness, but before he can make a dumb comment, her hands are at his trousers, gently tugging them down his legs. his hands join hers without a second thought, helping her get them the rest of the way down.
she can see him, hard against his boxers, and, after pushing him so he's laying down on her bed, she appreciates the way he looks - a little desperate, a lot pretty. he reaches for her hips, but she steps back, and a strange - almost garbled - whisper of indignation leaves his lips. it makes her lips quirk into a smirk, as she slowly begins taking her clothes off - each with weighty effort and a teasing smile. it doesn't defer him - as his eyes follow her movements greedily - but it definitely piques his excitement much more effectively when she finally places her thighs on either side of him, straddling his own. his hands reach up to grip her hips, guiding them down to rub against him, enjoying the slight buck of her hips, and the small noises leaving her mouth.
finally, she pulls his last article of clothing off, procuring his cock - thick and heavy - in her hand, languidly stroking him, causing his grip to tighten. she smiles against him, contemplating teasing him further but, feeling her own need, she decides against it, choosing to sit up a little higher on her knees instead.
"ready?" she mumbles looking down at his length as she attempts to situate herself correctly. maintaining her balance as she does, he hums in response, nodding as much as he can while keeping his eyes glued to her face. he can see the slight stress occur to her when she feels his cock against her, and he rubs his fingers against her lightly.
"'re you - want me to help?" she thinks he's asking if she needs to be taken care of and - though it wouldn't hurt - she's too desperate to finally feel him inside her to wait much longer.
"n-no, i wanna feel you, now." the admission makes him exhale lowly, appreciating her appreciation, and he lifts her ass up to help her hover over his cock. she can feel his head at her entrance so, taking a deep breath, she sinks down.
she's watching his anticipatory face fall into one of pleasure, and he's watching the same occur on hers - but there's that hint of discomfort that she desperately trying to ignore, stilling as her ass reaches his hips and attempting to adjust.
"'re you okay, baby?" he's massaging the expanse of her thighs and hips, trying to focus on the fucking amazing feeling of her, but also on relieving as much of the pain as he can. she's got a light wince on her face as she nods through gritted teeth.
"yeah - fuck, yeah - just give me a minute." he reassures her with short mumbles and loving phrases, hoping it was doing something to help. after another couple of moments, she breathes deeply, nodding at him lightly, before gently placing her hands against his shoulders.
she pushes up using her thighs, not loving the feeling of emptiness, in that half moment, before she sunk back onto him, releasing a small, gasping moan at the sensation. he looks up at her as she slowly repeats the action, grunting at the feeling of her cunt around him. she looked good like this, situated over him, desperately trying to both make him feel good, as well as to chase the newly-realized sensation she was also experiencing. wanting to return the favor, he grabs the bottoms of her thighs, easing her effort and pulling and pushing her with just that bit of fervor that forced him deeper inside her. she could feel him brushing against something that was making her twitch, her head falling back at the sensation as she tries to muffle her moans with one of her hands. unable to comprehend the feeling alongside moving her thighs, she slows her pace, but he didn't.
he pulls her to be situated with her face over his, hands more tightly clutching his shoulders, before he begins thrusting up into her with the newfound space. he keenly watches her face fall into a shocked pleasure, a loud moan falling from her lips at the newfound intensity and speed.
"oh my god - baby - fuck -" she's mumbling into the small space between them, desperately trying to explain how good he was making her feel, but the words escaped her, as her mind blanked at the sensation. it's spurring his thrusts on - moving that much faster, that much harder to make her fucked out nature more pronounced. it worked, as evidenced by her loud noises - ones she couldn't even think about trying to keep contained when he was making her feel like this. she can feel the feeling in her core begin to yearn for some sort of release, and she attempts to communicate this to him. it's not a great explanation, but it's more than enough for him.
"please - god, please, cum for me, baby - i want-" he wants to feel her orgasm as much as she does - anticipating the way her body would still, her face would contort, and her cunt would feel around him. she nods desperately, feeling the knot snap as the sensation of her orgasm washes over her, making her cry out over him.
he watches her, and it's as pretty as he thought it'd be: her mouth falling open and brows furrowing, her muscles tensing, and her cunt fluttering around his cock.
the feeling prompts his own orgasm as, after a few thrusts, he's pulling out of her, his cum glazing her stomach as a low groan escapes him. she gently sits back against his thighs, taking a moment to collect herself and catch her breath, as he does the same.
finally, she pushes off of him, reaching the bathroom to take a shower. he follows her after a moment, gently placing a kiss to her head.
"that was - was good." she hums in agreement, letting the water run behind them.
they both failed to realize the acoustics of the area, not realizing that the noises of their coupling had reached some of the others - maybe most notably, minho.
he sits, red faced, eyes wide. when gally notices his expression, he laughs.
(find the complete version on my whattpad @yoongsproperty)- Tell me if you want me to publish the whole oneshot on here or if you have any oneshot/short scene request.
𝕿he young, little Y/n slightly opened her eyes only to abruptly close them again due to the sudden light coming from a plain, white ceiling. Her lids felt heavy and her head was pounding as if she had been listening to high-volume music for an entire day.
She put her tiny hand on her forehead to prevent the light to blind her once again as her lively eyes caught a glimpse of something hanging on her forearm.
That is when she noticed that something similar to a needle connected to a small transparent bag was inserted right into her left wrist, piercing into her soft skin. A blueish liquid was flowing from the tube connected to her forearm at a regular speed. Her brows furrowed in confusion.
What was that place and why was she there?
Her gaze wandered around the room and examined every single inch of it. Nor that it would take that long anyway, given the rather simple design of the room.
As she took in her surroundings, she found herself to be laying down on a simple bed, similar to a hospital one, in an almost empty room devoid of personal touches, filled with cold metal surfaces and bright lights. No windows.
She woke up feeling disoriented and confused by the sudden change in surroundings that was indeed jarring for a seven years old kid. She felt like a fish out of the water. She was struggling to remember how she ended up in such a minimal, sterile, and clinical environment.
The only thing she was sure about, was that she was completely separated from her family. She had tried to cling onto her mother's fabric t-shirt but to no use, as she was violently jerked away by soldiers wearing a sleek, brown uniform and sturdy brown helmets.
That memory contributed to her feelings of vulnerability and uncertainty. Her initial confusion got replaced by her heartache and longing for her family. Thoughts of their faces would haunt her, becoming overwhelming. She felt a deep sense of loss and desperation, as she yearned to be reunited with her parents and younger siblings.
She stood up, removing the needle from her wrist, causing the small hole to bleed. She realized she was barefoot only when the cold white floor tiles met her warm skin.
She took some rapid steps, running to the closest door, in the hope to find a way out of that place.
But before she could have reached the metal door, she realized that there was no knob. As she examined the door, she got startled by the sudden lateral opening of the latter that was right in front of her.
An elegant and sophisticated woman joined her in the room, missing her by mere inches.
She had fair skin and well-groomed, blonde, styled hair, enhancing her professional appearance. Her facial features were elegant and refined. She had a defined jawline and high cheekbones, giving her a distinct and strong presence. Her eyes were sharp and piercing, reflecting her intelligence and determination. She was wearing a formal white lab coat.
The mysterious woman stopped in her tracks as soon as she met Y/n's eyes. She glanced at her bleeding wrist. The little one took a few steps backward, taking some distance from the unknown woman.
"Oh, I see that you are awake," she said "Nice to meet you, my name is Dr. Ava Paige, and I work here at W.C.K.D. You can call me Dr. Ava if you'd like. I'm here to help you and all the other special children like you."
"What is WCKD?" Y/n asked while tilting her head slightly to the side, still with a defensive demeanor.
"That's a great question! WCKD stands for World Catastrophe Killzone Department," the little kid questioned the relatively frightening meaning of each word that composed the acronym. "...but don't let the name scare you. Our goal at WCKD is to find a way to protect everyone from a dangerous virus called the Flare. We're looking for a cure so that no one else gets sick." Ava smiled kindly at her, hoping to reassure her. She knew that the little one was scared, but the woman knew how to do her job better than anyone else.
"Why am I here?" she glared at Dr.Paige. "You're here because you're very special. You have something called immunity, which means you're naturally protected from the Flare. We want to understand why some people are immune, so we can learn how to help others, and you want to help others, right?". Y/n's eyes softened as she seemed to be thinking about the answer for a while.
"Can I see my family?" she innocently asked. "I know it can be tough to be away from your family, but right now, we need your help to find a way to make the world a better and safer place. We'll do everything we can to make sure you feel comfortable and loved while you're here. You might see your family again at the end of our project." She concluded.
The little kid felt every bit of her hope fading away. Still, she was determined to reunite with her family, therefore, she would have had to end that project as soon as she could.
"From now on, you will be staying here, helping us with something really important that could save the life of many people. We will be your new family". Dr. Paige adopted a gentle and reassuring tone, focusing on the child's importance and the shared goal of finding a cure for the Flare.
She aimed to establish trust and provide a sense of safety and care, emphasizing Y/n's role in the greater mission. The child was quite smart for her age, and she already knew that the only way to get out of there was to collaborate with them, giving W.C.K.D. what they needed. Or more simply, to just pretend to be helping them.
"Come with me, I'll take you to meet another special kid like you" She offered her hand for the child to take.
Feel the magic, there's something that drives me wild
And tonight, we're gonna make it all come true
'Cause girl, you were made for me
And girl, I was made for you
(I was made for lovin’ you by Kiss)
(📃) SHEET MUSIC - send me a few lyrics (no more than five lines) along with a character and i’ll write a blurb.
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I Was Made For Lovin' You by KISS with Thomas (tmr) x Reader
Tonight, I want to see it in your eyes
Feel the magic, there's something that drives me wild
And tonight, we're gonna make it all come true
'Cause girl, you were made for me
And girl, I was made for you
contains gender-neutral!reader and thomas being an idiot (affectionate) really. (437)
Thomas was never one to thoroughly plan any idea he came up with, especially when it came to his friends and tonight was no different. With a life on the line, yours specifically, Thomas had gotten no rest as he came up with a poorly thought out plan to get you back from WICKED's hold.
From what he's seen and been told, WICKED returned Minho to the Gladers in exchange for you due to some complications with Minho's cooperation skills. Apparently they believed that you would be easier to manage but if you still had the will you've always had, he was sure they wouldn't get that far. Despite this easing his worries by a bit, he still needed you back by his side, and preferably today as it was the day Right Arm planned to go to the Safe Haven.
"This is a terrible idea." Gally said as he looked over the brief plan Thomas had come up with. Frypan and Newt looked at the boy with their lips pressed into a line as they agreed with him.
Thomas sighed in defeat as he rested his head against the table. "Well it's not like we have any other options! It's either we go through with my admittedly shitty plan or let them kill them and I am not letting WICKED lay a hand on them."
Now it was the other three boys turn to sigh. They too wanted to get you back, they really did, but they couldn't potentially throw all progress with Right Arm out the window just to save one person. It wasn't fair, especially with all the immunes they've managed to save already. Perhaps if they didn't have so much on their shoulders they would be on their way to you right now but they couldn't.
"The berg takes off tonight, in the meantime, time is yours." Gally told the group before heading off to meet Brenda with Newt and Frypan following as well, leaving Thomas alone with the image of a faulty plan before him.
"If they can't come along, then I'll go alone." He muttered to himself before sitting up from his seat. Quietly leaving the room to where the weapons and equipment were stored, Thomas hastily grabbed what he could and left for Last City.
Thomas knew this was a suicide mission. The chances of his and your survival had immediately dropped the second he decided to do this alone but it was a risk he was willing to take. Even if they may never be able to reach the Safe Haven, he just needed to be with you again.
request: thomas (tmr) + 37 ‘the tender ache when you press against bruises’ (based off this post)
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“It was a reckless thing to do and, frankly, Greenie,” You’re not looking at him as you talk, focused on the small movement of unscrewing the lid of the bottle, saying, “I’m surprised you’re not dead. But, you’ve got courage. That, or stupidity.”
Thomas, leaning against the doorway of the Homestead, his arms crossed, gives a little snort. At your quick assessing look, he just shrugs and explains, “You followed me into the Maze the second time. That means we’re both either courageous or stupid.”
You roll your eyes and place the lid beside you, squeezing the bottle of salve, the contents cold on your fingers. “Look,” You say, “I’m curious about,” Pausing, you turn your wrist slightly and apply the salve onto your skin, the area bruised already, “the Maze now. What we found in that Griever? That’s something. That’s new.”
You had almost said, “I’m curious about you.” It seemed too vulnerable.
Thomas hums in response, thoughts obviously on the device you had found in the Maze earlier that day. Unknown to you, he was also thinking about the supposed dead Griever stirring and lashing out, remembered the way you had caught the force of the blow. You had brushed off the worries from the others but Thomas had followed you to the Homestead. He just wanted to make sure you were okay.
You lift up your shirt, on your side, and Thomas can see the already stained skin, dark purple blossoming. It’s stubbornness that makes you duck your chin and try to twist to reach the bruise on your side, face screwed up in pain. Thomas pushes off the doorway and moves to crouch beside you. A sigh falls from your lips and you let him take the salve from your fingers, stiffening as his cold touch meets your skin before forcing yourself to relax. There’s a tender ache when he presses against the bruise and you release a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.
“Let her go, you sick bastards!” Thomas screamed, aiming his gun at Janson who gripped your weak body closer to him. You shook your head with whatever strength you had left.
‘Go!’ you mouthed. Thomas only stood his ground, determined to save you. Your ears rang, it happened so fast. Janson’s grip on you faltered as he staggered back screaming in pain. You yanked your arm from his hold.
You ran as fast as you could towards Thomas, safety in human form.
