Showing - The Maze Runner
Staring - Newt X Reader
Rating - 18+ (Drunk / Groping / Fondling / Nipple Play / Blow Job / Nudity)
Reading Time - 19 min 42 sec (2561)
Chaos began the moment the bonfire was lit. Typically, the monthly bonfire night just involved the boys sipping moonshine, having a few pit fights and maybe a few embarrassing mistakes by the newbies. But this bonfire was different. For whatever reason, Gally's moonshine was noticeably stronger than usual. This meant boys who were new and could handle two or three jars were on the floor after half of one, and the more seasoned boys used to four or five jars on a good night, where falling over themselves on three.
Newt was no exception; he'd been here three years and could very happily sit sipping on a single jar and be buzzed enough to sleep, three making him giggly enough to end up laughing with the boys, and a good fifth jar would usually knock him to sleep. But he'd been sipping on one for a while now, only halfway down, and he had pretty much just been sitting against a log with some bacon, watching the glade get more and more fuzzy.
"Hey, Newt," Y/n called as she came over. She'd been in the glade almost two years now, and worked mostly on laundry for the boys, occasionally helping in the kitchen when needed. She was their only girl and was pretty used to the boys all having crushes on her. She strolled over, tossing her hoodie off as she got close enough, revealing her vest top. She sat down beside him with a smile."You okay?" She asked, noticing Newt's lack of a better word, 'zonked' expression.
Newt just blinks at her for a second, a silly, lazy smile crossing over his face. "Yeah… I'm fine."
"Yeah? You watching the fairies?" She joked,
He snorted with a laugh. "Fairies? More like the spinning ground. It's like the whole damn ground is moving," he shook his head, his hand coming up to rub his temples to try and stop the spinning. "How come you're all fine, hmm?" he asked, turning to look at her.
"Because I don't like moonshine." She chuckled, taking the jar from his hand and tossing what was left onto the grass.
He couldn't help but whine when she tossed the jar.
"Awww, poor Newtie." She opened her arms, offering him a hug,
"Shush. I am not." Newt grumbled but immediately flopped into her arms anyway. His arms coiled around her waist, his cheek unfortunately against her breasts. "You smell good," he mumbled,
Y/n laughed as Newt lay on her. She cradled him like a baby and put his soft blonde hair. "Thank you, I've been in the kitchens, so I probably smell like bacon." She chuckled,
Newt inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering with the scent of her. He would very happily just bury his face in her chest and stay there forever. He shifted enough, his hands moving from her waist to her hips. "You smell like you, you always smell good." He mumbled, he let out what could only be described as a low whine as his face buried against her cleavage.
Y/n laughed, as Newt's nose burrowed into her sternum, borderline motorboating her at this point, "hey!" She laughed, "I swear tomorrow you boys are going to have a huge communal hangover."
He gave a soft, breathy laugh, his hands squeezing her. He gave a little shiver in reply, his mouth opening just the slightest bit and his teeth lightly grazing her cleavage. "You're so warm." He murmured, one of his hands moving up, his fingers sneaking up her side under her top.
"Hey!" She laughed,
Newt's hands didn't stop, his fingers sliding up her side and thumbing her bra straps. He mumbled something into her cleavage, but it was almost incomprehensible. "So good…" He mumbled again, his right hand sliding up her back to hold her close.
"Newtie… I think we need to get you to bed." She cooed, trying to get out of his grip so she could get him to his hammock.
Newt let out another whine, his grip on her hip and back only tightening, his hands holding her in place. His hands slipped under her bra. "No. Don't go…" he mumbled again, his face nuzzling against her chest again.
"Hey! Hands!" She playfully told him off as Newt's hands grabbed her breasts.
Newt didn't listen, his hands stayed under her top, and he squeezed her breasts again. he moaned into her cleavage and rolled his hips against her thigh, desperately seeking more contact. He was already hard and aching in his pants,
"Hey! Oi! Newt!" She complained as he began basically humping her like a puppy. "Ah!" She yelped as he pinched her nipple, "Get your grubby hands out of there, Newt!"
His moans were muffled into her chest as his hips rolled again and again. His hands squeezed her breasts, his fingers brushed lightly at her nipples, pinching them between his thumb and forefinger. "But you taste so good, baby…”
Y/n rolled her eyes. "Fine… At least we can go somewhere else. You might not care, but I don't particularly want the whole of the glade watching us."
"Yes. Please." He panted out, his grip on her didn't loosen as he struggled to his feet.
Y/n fixed her clothes and helped Newt to stand, as without her help, he'd have immediately gone face-first into the grass. "Come on, my drunk little Brit, let's get you to bed." She cooed, helping him across the glade towards the homestead, hoping she'd manage to get him in his hammock and passed out, but given the homestead was right next to the tall trees of the deadheads, it wasn't hard for Newt to make them swerve off course.
"Nooooo, I want Y/n, not bed." He moaned stubbornly and leaned back against her. He was like a stubborn little drunk puppy and was determined to have his own way, regardless of whether he would remember or not in the morning. He managed to get them to stray deep enough into the trees that the others wouldn't see them, and happily pinned her against a thick tree.
"Really? Again?" She asked as his hands grabbed her chest, not even bothering to go under her top this time.
He didn't respond to her question, and his hands continued to paw at her chest, squeezing and kneading her breasts. "So soft…" he panted against her neck. "So good." His hands continued to explore her. One of his hands went down to the hem of her shorts and started to play with the waistband, trying to get them off.
Y/n playfully sighed as she looked at him, knowing there was no way she was just getting Newt to bed, at least not without some sort of attention. "… How about this, I let you touch these while I… Use my mouth, and then you go straight to bed?" she encouraged, moving his hands back to her breasts,
Newt moaned at her offer. "Really?" He asked hopefully.
"Yes, really. But you have to promise you'll go right to bed?"
Newt nodded eagerly. “I'll be good, I promise,” he leaned up, as he squeezed and kneaded her breasts eagerly.
"Alright." Y/n agreed, lifting her shirt and unclipping her bra, leaving her bare from the waist up for him.
He moaned out softly at the feeling of her soft skin under his hands, and he leaned in, his mouth sucking a hickey into one of her breasts.
She laughed, seeing how desperate he was when he was this drunk, she felt a little sheepish, given none of the boys had ever seen her like this, but she trusted him, even when he was this blacked out.
Newt moaned as his mouth moved between both her breasts, his tongue lapping at her, and his hands still eagerly squeezing her soft flesh. He switched between both, giving both equal attention. His hips were still pressed against her front, grinding against her.
"Okay, okay. That's enough." She said, taking his hands away. "Now let's get this sorted so we can get you to bed." She cooed, stroking his hard on,
Newt moaned, “But I don’t wanna go to bed,” he whined. He gave a shiver as she stroked his hard-on through his pants, already soaked with precum. He moaned and rolled his hips into her hand.
"You promised you would." She reminds him as she turns them around, so Newt's back leans against the tree.
“I know, I know.” Newt groaned, and his hands moved to rest on her hips. He leaned fully back against the tree, his breath heavy with anticipation.
"So, I'll take care of you, then we'll go to bed. Okay?"
Newt nodded. “Yeah, we can do that.”
Y/n smiled and gave him a soft, loving few kisses just to get him a little more worked up, already assuming she wouldn't really be at this long.
Newt moaned, tilting his head up to slot their mouths together properly. He pulled Y/n closer to him, keeping her close in his hands, wanting her to stay close. He rolled his hips and moaned again, desperately trying to get some friction between them.
She pulled back and moved to her knees as she slipped her shirt back down. She began to unlace the string ties of his trousers, looking up at him.
He watched her, his eyes dark and already blown out. His fingers moved up to her hair and threaded through it, lightly playing with it. “Please,” he panted. “Hurry…”
"I'm working on it!" She said in a hushed tone. "Maybe don't wear tied pants, they're hard to undo." She chuckled, finally getting them open, revealing his bright orange boxers.
Newt let out a breathless laugh. “It’s not like I knew this’d be happening today,” he teased her, still running his fingers through her hair as she pulled his boxers down. His cock sprang free, and he moaned, finally getting some relief from the pressure.
She gasped at the sight of him. Of course, she'd been in the glade two years, so she knew what… The boys… looked like in a, seen one or two, got the general idea kinda way. But Newt surprised her with his size, more so than she'd expected him to be; he was long and fairly thin with very prominent veins. She giggled a little, running her fingertips across the small amount of blonde hair that graced his V. "I suppose not … Maybe you should start." She cooed a little as she began to pepper little kisses on his shaft.
“You just can’t resist teasin’ me, can you?” he mumbled, “You look so good like that,”
"Do I?"
Newt had to swallow before answering; his breath was heavier, “Y-yeah..” he managed to gasp out. “You look so pretty, on your knees.”
Y/n rolled her eyes and began to kiss a little more purposefully, making the slow kisses gentle to make sure she didn't overwhelm him "Has any ever done this to you before?"
Newt moaned, his hands tightening in her hair a little. “N-no.” He breathed out. “You’re the only one.”
"I'm surprised you boys have such restraint." She chuckled, "Always thought a bunch of teenage boys alone together would surely just devolve into perversion."
“We’re not savages, you know. We can keep our hands to ourselves.”
"I'm not sure I can take all of it… Your… Bigger than I thought you were." Y/n admitted her cheeks dusting a little pink,
Newt moaned slightly, a jolt of pride running through him, “It’s okay. You don’t have to… god.” he groaned, “Just start small.”
She nodded and began to gently work, taking first only his head in her mouth, licking softly and slowly.
Hr moaned out a curse under his breath. His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to concentrate on not thrusting forward. “Oh bloody hell!” he moaned again,
She slowly but surely took more and more, making sure to lick as much as possible for lubrication.
“Oh god, y-your mouth is s-so good,” he moaned, his breath short.
She stopped about two inches from the hilt, unable to take any more. She relaxed a little and began to softly suck
Newt moaned loudly, his hand moving to press the back of her head slightly. “Oh fuuck.” he moaned, his head falling back and hitting against the tree .”Don’t stop.”
Y/n nodded and sucked a little harder, getting into a rhythm of moving her head back and forth up the length of him. She licked when needed, often now having to lick away the little spurts of precum that leaked from him.
Newt moaned loudly, his hands desperately trying to stay still and not thrust forward and chase his release. “Oh my… I’m gonna… I’m gonna-“ he moaned out,
She nodded, and as she got more confident, she relaxed her throat enough to get the last two inches past her lips.
Newt moaned; his legs started to almost give out. “I'm…close, I'm really…” he moaned again, struggling to form the words to warn her. His back arched forward, and he was practically thrusting into her mouth, his pace fast and sloppy as he chased his release.“Don't stop…please don't stop.” His release hit suddenly and shot into Y/n's throat like a slingshot,
Y/n almost choked but managed to swallow each and every spurt without any leaking from her lips. She gradually slowed down before finally releasing him with a pop.
“Oh god,” he moaned, still slumped back against the tree. “That was…” he panted, his legs still slightly shaky.
"I did okay?" She chuckled, licking his shaft clean.
His hands moved to grab her arms, pulling her up to her feet. “You did amazing,” he murmured, pressing his lips to hers in a lazy and messy kiss.
"and now… Bed. Remember." She told him as she helped fix his pants.
Newt whined but groaned and nodded, “Yeah, fine.” He mumbled. “Bed.”
Luckily, his legs were jelly on top of him being drunk, so Y/n had no issues getting Newt to the homestead and into his hammock. She smiled and tucked him in with a pillow and blanket. "There we go."
“You’re too nice to me,” he mumbled, pouting up at her as he cuddled up.
"I am. You're lucky you're cute." She cooed, fixing his hair. "Now… Not a word about this to any of the boys, okay? What I did was just for you. I don't want the other boys knowing because then they all want me on my knees." She whispered, even if part of her was pretty confident Newt wouldn't remember any of this in the morning.
“I won’t tell,” he mumbled, his eyes opened again, and he glanced up at her. “But what if I want you on your knees for me again?”
"Then you just have to ask." She cooed, leaning down to kiss him,
Newt hummed into the kiss, his eyes flickered closed again, and he moved a hand up to pull her closer to him so he could stay connected to her.
"Now get some sleep, Newtie."
“Mean,” he mumbled grumpily, finally letting go of her,
"AHH, yes, I'm so evil." She chuckled, giving him one more kiss on her lips. "Goodnight, Newt,"
“Goodnight, Y/n,” he replied and snuggled down into his blanket to actually get some sleep.
Y/n soon left the homestead to get back to her own hut to go to bed for the night.
Newt watched her walk away for a moment before snuggling further down into the hammock, still feeling incredibly drunk. He slowly closed his eyes and started to drift off. His mind wandered back to earlier that night, and a tired smile came over his face, thinking about Y/n.
here, there and everywhere ⋆˚✿˖° thomas brodie sangster
“there, running my hands through her hair…” *ੈ❀
warnings : fluff, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, thomas in his mid 30s), alcohol consumption
pairing : thomas brodie sangster x female reader
word count : 1.8k
summary : coming home after a night out with your boyfriend and his friends
authors note : i don’t think you guys understand how obsessively, completely and utterly in love i am with this man. can’t believe i’ve never published something about him before. currently praying this fandom is still alive.
⋆˚𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖
the door clicks shut behind you, and the muted sound of london rain fades, leaving only the soft creak of the hallway floor beneath your feet.
you’re both a little tipsy, warm from the pub’s dim lights and laughter, your cheeks flushed from wine and from him.
thomas reaches for your coat before you even think about undoing the buttons. “let me,” he murmurs, his voice low, steady, the kind that always makes your shoulders relax.
you let him slip it from you, his fingertips brushing your arms deliberately, like he’s in no rush to stop touching you.
“you’re soaked,” he says, hanging the coat on its hook.
“you’re soaked too,” you counter softly, and before you can add anything else, his hand finds your waist, pulling you closer, just enough that you feel the heat of him.
“i don’t mind if you don’t,” he says, lips grazing your temple.
you smile against him. “i don’t mind.”
he kisses the corner of your mouth like he can’t help himself, then the proper thing, full and slow.
you taste rain and the faint sweetness of the whiskey he’d had earlier. two years together and it still makes your chest ache in that same first-night way.
“kitchen?” he asks when you break apart, but his hand doesn’t leave your lower back—actually, it slides lower, over your hip, settling casually against you like it belongs there. “i’ll fix you a drink, if you want?”
you nod. “just one.”
he doesn’t let go as he guides you into the kitchen, fingertips pressing gently at the small of your back, occasionally slipping just slightly over the curve of your ass.
it’s natural. familiar. this is how you are with each other now: comfortable enough to move like you’ve always known each other, still always new enough to want to.
the kitchen is dim, golden light from the single overhead lamp making everything softer. rain streaks down the window, city lights blurred beyond.
thomas lets you go only to reach for glasses. you stay close, leaning against the counter beside him, watching his hands.
“wine?” he asks.
“mm,” you hum, then tease, “but only if you pour a big one.”
that earns you a quiet laugh. “cheeky.”
he pours, sets your glass in front of you, then steps in between you and the counter. “two years and you’re still trouble,” he says, but he’s smiling.
“two years and you still love it,” you reply.
“i do.” he presses another kiss to your mouth, slower this time. his hand slips to your hip, pulling you against him until your legs bump his. “you really are something, you know?” he murmurs again against your lips, “but most importantly, you’re mine.”
you kiss him back, and for a moment the rain and the city outside disappear completely.
after a moment, you pull back and lean your forehead against his. “your friends were nice tonight,” you say softly.
he grins, running his thumb over your cheek. “they like you.”
“you know, its weird. they’re older than me,” you begin, “but they don’t make me feel like a kid. i like listening to their stories.”
“they wouldn’t dare,” he says seriously, then adds with a smile, “but you know that already. you hold your own better than you think, love.”
you squeeze his hand, warmth settling deep inside you. “i know. but it still feels nice to hear.”
he kisses you again, gentle and steady. “you’re my partner. always.”
you settle onto the couch, your drink still in hand, but you’re barely paying attention to it. thomas drops down beside you, close enough that your knees bump.
the house feels quiet except for the distant hum of the rain against the windows, a soft background to the heat between you.
you take a small sip, set the glass on the table, and before you can lean back fully, he’s already there—his arm around you, pulling you in.
“you’re warm,” he murmurs against your hair.
“so are you,” you whisper, but the words dissolve when he tilts your chin up and kisses you.
it starts slow, like it always does—gentle, careful, almost lazy. you’ve kissed him probably two million times, maybe more, but it still makes you lightheaded, still makes your fingers reach for him automatically.
his hand moves from your shoulder down your back, resting at your waist. you shift closer, practically between his knees now, your knees pressing the edge of the couch cushion.
he kisses you deeper, but it’s not hurried. there’s no rush here. just him, his palm firm at your side, his thumb tracing circles, the taste of wine still lingering between you.
when you finally pull back for air, you’re both smiling. his forehead presses to yours, and for a second, neither of you speak.
“you’re staring,” you tease softly.
“i’m allowed to,” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear.
you laugh, and he uses that moment to kiss you again, this time with a little more insistence.
your hand finds his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric, and his slides lower along your spine, grounding, steady, until it rests easily at your hip.
the wine sits forgotten on the table.
you break the kiss just enough to breathe, still close enough to feel his lips graze your cheek when he speaks. “come here,” he murmurs, and you’re already there, climbing fully onto his lap now without really thinking about it.
he exhales like he’s been waiting for that all night, hands settling firmly around your waist, the metal of his watch feeling cold against your skin.
you kiss him again, slower this time but deeper, and the room feels warmer, smaller.
he keeps one hand at the small of your back, the other just barely skimming your side, holding you close like he doesn’t want any space between you.
there’s no talking now, not really—just quiet sounds, soft breaths, and the rain outside.
the kisses slow eventually, not because either of you want them to, but because the warmth in the room is making your eyelids heavy.
you stay there for another few moments, your forehead resting against his, listening to his breathing.
“bed?” he asks softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your cheek.
you nod.
he helps you to your feet, fingers lacing with yours as he guides you upstairs. the house is quiet except for the soft creak of the staircase and the rain outside.
in the bathroom, the two of you fall into a familiar rhythm. you start taking off the earrings he got you last christmas while he reaches for his toothbrush.
“you tired, sweetheart?” he asks, voice muffled around the foam.
“a little,” you admit, rinsing your face. “but i don’t want tonight to end.”
he spits, rinses, then smiles at you in the mirror. “it doesn’t have to. we’re home. we’re together. that’s the best part.”
you can’t help but smile back.
you remove your makeup gently, wiping away the last traces of the evening, while thomas moves around behind you—hanging up his shirt, setting his jewelry on the dresser, pulling back the duvet in the bedroom.
by the time you join him, your face is clean, your hair is loosely tied, and you’re in one of his soft t-shirts. he’s already in bed, sitting up with the lamp still on.
“it’s cold in here.” you mumble softly, yawning.
“well c’mere, then.” he says, holding out a hand.
you climb in, and he pulls you right against his chest. the second your head finds its place beneath his chin, his arms wrap around you like they’re meant to stay there.
“better, love?” he asks quietly.
“much,” you whisper, your fingers brushing lightly over his side. “you’re always warm.”
“good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair. “you really are freezing.”
“not anymore.”
you lie like that for a while, listening to the rain. he traces slow, absent-minded shapes on your back, and you feel yourself drifting.
he reaches over, switches off the lamp, and settles back with you still sprawled across him.
“my girl,” he whispers into the dark, and then he’s quiet too, holding you as the rain continues outside.
for a while, you just listen to each other breathe. then he speaks again, voice low:
“you okay, sweetheart?”
“mm-hm,” you murmur, fingers tracing a line along his shirt. “just sleepy.”
he presses a kiss to your hair. “good. you should sleep.”
you close your eyes, your body sinking heavier against him.
“thomas?” you whisper, already drowsy.
“yes, darling.”
“i love you.”
his lips touch your forehead. “i love you too. go to sleep, yeah?”
you mean to answer, but the warmth and steady rhythm of him make it impossible to stay awake. it takes all of five seconds before you’re out like a light.
thomas smiles softly at the sight, pressing one more kiss to your cheek before closing his eyes as well.
