Any Comfort Fic Recs? I Need Smth Right Now, Can’t Keep Crying Alone.

Always

Newt (Maze Runner) x Reader

Fluff

Summary: Newt and reader having a moment to themselves where they feel safe together

The sun had started to sink beyond the maze walls, casting the Glade in a warm, golden glow. Shadows stretched long across the ground, softening the harsh edges of their surroundings and bathing everything in a warm light. You and Newt had found a quiet moment, away from the chaos and the routine of the Glade, to just be.

He had his arm around you as you both sat in the soft grass, leaning against the sturdy trunk of a tree near the edge of the forest. A gentle breeze tugged at the wild curls of his hair, and he absentmindedly ran a hand through it, his eyes drifting dreamily along the distant horizon.

“Feels like we’re on top of the world, doesn’t it?” you murmured, breaking the silence with a soft, contented sigh. You nestled closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Newt looked down at you, his eyes alight with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “With you here, love,” he said, voice tender, “we might as well be.”

You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder. “That’s corny, even for you.”

But he just grinned, unbothered, letting his hand fall to trace gentle patterns along your arm. His touch was light, calming, grounding you in a way only Newt could. It was as if the whole world faded away, leaving only this small, perfect moment with him.

As you both watched the sky darken and the first stars appear, he shifted to look at you more closely. “I know this place isn’t much,” he started, a bit hesitant. “But… I want you to know that with you, even the Glade feels like somewhere special.”

You felt your cheeks flush, warmth blossoming in your chest. He was like that—always making you feel like you were someone irreplaceable, like you were everything to him. You lifted a hand, brushing a lock of hair from his face, letting your fingers linger along his jaw. “It’s you that makes it special for me, too,” you said softly. “No place could ever be too dark, not with you in it.”

For a moment, he looked at you in that way he sometimes did, the way that made you feel like there was nothing else he saw. His fingers intertwined with yours, holding your hand firmly as if he’d never let go.

“Promise me,” he whispered, voice carrying an unspoken worry, as if something beyond your view haunted him. “No matter what happens… you’ll be here, with me.”

You gave him a smile, squeezing his hand. “Newt... we can't guarantee—"

He lifted your chin ever so gently, cutting you off. "Promise me."

"Always."

He took your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles, his eyes lingering on yours with something deeper—a quiet understanding. A silent promise.

And for that moment, everything felt whole. You knew there would be dark days and shadows still to come, but as long as you had this, as long as you could hold onto each other, it was enough.

Yet, somewhere in his gaze, you thought you caught a fleeting hint of something—fear, perhaps, or the kind of acceptance only seen in someone who understood that some things, no matter how much love could try to hold them, couldn’t last forever.

Is it weird I want to request a scene that involves Janson? I've been seeing a lot of posts about him and ngl he's kinda hot...is this just me...???

GO FOR IT. I wholeheartedly agree. I don’t know what it is but well… let’s just say I wouldn’t protest because he could slam a clipboard on the table and I’d fold like a lawn chair 😫

PLEASE PLEASE SEND IN REQUESTS 🙏🙏

The escape: Backup Plan

(Pt. I)

Janson (Maze Runner) x OC (Lauren)

Angst

summary: Lauren (OC) who’s a doctor in the facility tricks Janson with a decoy of the cure and makes a quick escape, hoping to stay ahead before he discovers the truth.

—————————————————————————————————-

Inspired by:

The sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway, distant but growing louder, as Lauren tightened the straps of her bag, her mind racing. The real cure—tucked safely in her hidden compartment—was still with her. But the decoy she’d left behind in the lab, the one Janson had taken, would buy her just enough time.

The only thing that mattered now was getting away before he realized.

She bolted down the narrow corridors, her breath steady but sharp, the pounding of her feet a steady rhythm in the sterile silence. Lauren wasn’t the same quiet, passive figure Janson thought she was. No. She’d learned to be smart, to adapt. To stay ahead.

As she rounded another corner, the cold bite of reality sank in. She only had moments before Janson would discover the truth. He would soon know that the cure he thought he’d stolen was useless—a placebo, a trick.

And when he did…

Suddenly, the corridor ahead felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in. She turned again, winding deeper into the facility, her heart racing but her mind sharp, every step purposeful. She knew where she was going. She knew the escape routes. She knew every blind spot in the surveillance.

The temporary vial wasn’t even worth what she carried.

A cold voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and unnerving. “Lauren.”

Her heart jumped. Janson.

He emerged from the shadows, his face a mask of calm fury. The temporary vial sat in his hand, his knuckles white around it. He was close enough to see, but far enough to not catch her—yet.

“I thought we had an understanding,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with menace. He stepped toward her, his eyes narrowed. “This—” he held up the vial, “—isn’t what I asked for.”

Lauren clenched her jaw, willing her pulse to slow down. She wouldn’t let him see her fear. Not now. Not when she had the upper hand.

“That’s the cure, Janson,” she lied smoothly, her eyes unwavering. “Everything you need is in there.”

Janson’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes—doubt, suspicion. He stepped closer, his pace deliberate, each step calculated. “You really expect me to believe that?”

Lauren took a step back, her mind spinning. She couldn’t run yet—not until she was sure she could shake him. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag, the weight of the real cure pressing into her side, reminding her that she still had control.

For now.

Janson’s cold gaze flickered down to the bag, his voice growing colder. “I’m not stupid, Lauren. You think you can outplay me?”

Lauren’s chest tightened, but she kept her face neutral. “It’s all there,” she said, her voice firm, “but you’ll never understand how it works.”

Janson’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he studied her. He was testing her, weighing the truth of her words, but she was too good at this. She had to be.

“You’ve always been clever,” he said, taking another slow, deliberate step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. “But you’re making a mistake.”

Lauren didn’t move. “You already have what you want. Walk away.”

Janson’s eyes narrowed, and the tension between them thickened like a coiled wire about to snap. His fingers twitched at his side, as though ready to grab her, to pull the truth from her by force if he had to.

But he didn’t know. He didn’t know that the real cure wasn’t in his hands. And she wasn’t about to tell him.

The silence stretched between them, charged with unspoken threats and barely-contained fury. Lauren’s muscles tensed, ready to move at the first sign of weakness.

And then Janson’s lips curled into a thin smile—cold, calculating.

“You’ve always been good at hiding things,” he murmured, stepping so close now that she could feel the heat of his breath on her skin. “But you can’t run forever.”

Lauren’s pulse spiked. She knew what was coming.

She made her move.

Without warning, Lauren spun on her heel and bolted, her feet flying down the corridor before Janson could react. She heard him curse behind her, his footsteps thundering after her, but she was faster. Smarter.

She raced through the labyrinth of hallways, her mind laser-focused on her exit strategy. She had a backup route. A plan. One he didn’t know about.

Janson’s footsteps grew louder behind her, his anger palpable in the air. He was close—too close—but she wasn’t going to let him catch her. Not this time.

Lauren veered to the right, darting down a side passage that led deeper into the facility. She could hear his frustrated growl, the sound of him picking up speed, his determination bleeding into every footfall.

She turned another corner, her eyes scanning for the emergency exit she knew was just ahead. If she could just reach it, she’d be free. She’d be safe.

But then—

The mechanical sound of a gun being cocked stopped her, the barrel stopping mere millimeters from her skull. She gasped, stumbling as Janson cornered her into the wall, his eyes blazing with fury.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Lauren panicked, her breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. She could feel the vial pressing against her side, the real cure, still safely hidden. He didn’t know.

He couldn’t know.

“I’m not giving you anything,” she spat, her voice defiant despite the fear gnawing at her insides.

Janson grabbed her, tightening his grip with his face inches from hers, the anger rolling off him in waves. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” he hissed. “You think you can outsmart me?”

Lauren glared up at him, refusing to back down. “You won’t get it. No matter what you do.”

For a moment, Janson didn’t move. His eyes bore into hers, cold and calculating, as though he was weighing his options.

Then, without warning, he slammed his hand against the wall beside her, caging her in. His other hand reached for her bag, ripping it from her shoulder in one swift motion.

He rifled through it, his movements rough, angry—until he found the vial.

For a split second, Lauren’s heart froze. But she didn’t falter. She knew what he had in his hands.

Janson held it up, his eyes narrowing as he studied it. “This is it, then?” he said, his voice dripping with skepticism.

Lauren swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep calm. “That’s the cure,” she said, her voice steady. “The only one.”

Janson’s gaze flicked back to her, suspicion flashing across his face. But then, slowly, a twisted smile spread across his lips.

“I don’t believe you.”

In that moment, Lauren knew she had him. She’d planted the seed of doubt, and now it was taking root. He didn’t know what to believe. And that was her advantage.

Janson pocketed the vial, his grip still tight on her arm, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of a lie. But Lauren was too good at this. She had to be.

“You’ll regret this,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “One way or another.”

And with that, he released her, stepping back as if daring her to make her next move.

Lauren didn’t hesitate. She turned and ran, her heart pounding in her chest as she made her way toward the real exit, the one he didn’t know about.

The real cure was still safely hidden, and now, she had the upper hand.

For now.

Crossfire

Tangerine (Bullet train) x Assassin!Reader

Fluff, tension, quite a bit of violence and gore

Summary: Tangerine and Reader fight over the case

AN: lil’ late night b’day surprise. I haven’t written for bullet train before but seeing as I can’t stop thinking about it… here you go.

Story under the cut

The bullet train cut through the night like a sleek predator, its hum vibrating beneath your boots as you adjusted your grip on the briefcase. Codename: The Bolt. You were known for precision and speed, and tonight had been no exception. Snatching the case from under everyone’s nose? Easy. Escaping unnoticed? Nearly perfect.

Nearly.

"You’re taking the piss, right?" a sharp British voice rang out behind you.

You froze, shoulders tensing. Turning slowly, you weren’t surprised to find Tangerine leaning casually against the doorway, a silenced pistol in one hand and his ever-present scowl in place. His crisp suit was speckled with blood—someone else’s, judging by how unbothered he looked.

"I don’t have time for this, Tangerine," you said flatly, edging the briefcase behind you.

He smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Don’t flatter yourself, Bolt. It’s not you I’m here for." His blue eyes flicked to the case you clutched like a lifeline. "Hand it over, and I might let you walk off this train in one piece."

"Still running errands for White Death, I see," you quipped, ignoring his demand. "What’s the matter? Can’t hack it on your own?"

The sharp click of him cocking his gun was the only answer you needed.

"You think I won’t shoot you?" he said, voice low and deadly.

"You won’t," you replied, matching his tone.

His eyes narrowed. "Try me."

For a moment, the train was filled with nothing but the metallic rattle of tracks and the hum of electricity. You didn’t blink. Neither did he.

Then, in a flash, you hurled the briefcase at him, sending him stumbling back just enough for you to draw your knife.

He recovered quickly, dodging your first swipe and lunging forward, his gun narrowly grazing your arm before you twisted it out of his grip. The weapon clattered to the floor, but he didn’t pause, slamming you back against the wall with enough force to knock the breath from your lungs.

"Is this really worth dying for, love?" he growled, pressing his forearm against your collarbone.

"Funny," you gasped, shoving him back with a knee to his stomach. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

He staggered but recovered, grabbing your wrist before you could strike again. The two of you struggled, bodies locked in a brutal dance as the train swayed beneath you. The tension in the air was palpable, crackling with the kind of energy that blurred the line between hatred and something far more dangerous.

"You always this scrappy, or is it just me?" he taunted, wrenching your knife from your grasp and tossing it aside.

"Don’t flatter yourself," you spat, shoving him into the nearest seat.

But before you could grab the briefcase, he was on you again, pinning your arms to the wall. His face was inches from yours now, his breath hot against your cheek.

"Always knew you were trouble," he said, voice a low murmur.

"Then you should’ve stayed out of my way," you hissed, twisting free and grabbing the briefcase just as—

"Oi, Tangerine!" Lemon’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. He stood at the opposite end of the car, looking exasperated. "You handling this, or do I need to step in?"

Tangerine shot him a murderous look. "I’ve got it."

"Doesn’t look like it," Lemon replied. "She’s still got the bloody case, doesn’t she?"

"You’ve got bigger problems," you interjected, your voice sharp. Both men turned to see you standing by the door, holding up a detonator you’d lifted from Tangerine’s pocket during the scuffle.

His eyes widened. "You cheeky—"

The rest of his insult was cut off as you triggered the smoke canister, filling the train car with a thick, choking cloud.

"You absolute cow!" Tangerine bellowed, coughing as he and Lemon stumbled through the haze.

You used the chaos to slip into the next car, sprinting down the aisle. Freedom was so close you could taste it.

Then, just as you reached the connecting door, a familiar face appeared in your path.

"Whoa, hey!" Ladybug said, holding up his hands. "Let’s all just take a breather, yeah? No need to escalate this—"

Before he could finish, the briefcase was ripped from your grasp.

"Are you kidding me?" you snapped as Ladybug tucked it under his arm.

"Hey, don’t blame me," he said defensively. "I just got roped into this mess, okay? I’m just trying to—"

Tangerine and Lemon burst through the smoke, both looking thoroughly pissed.

"Well, well," Tangerine said, his gaze locking onto you with a mix of irritation and admiration. "Looks like the Bolt’s still got some tricks up her sleeve."

"Focus," Lemon hissed, pointing at Ladybug. "He’s got the case!"

The four of you froze, staring at each other like a dysfunctional tableau.

"Right," Ladybug muttered, taking a slow step back. "I’m just gonna…go now."

And with that, he bolted, leaving the three of you to glare after him.

Tangerine sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Bloody Americans."

You smirked, leaning against the wall. "Looks like you’re not as good as you think you are."

He turned to you, jaw tight. "Don’t push your luck, Bolt."

"Or what?" you shot back, taking a step closer. "You’ll try to stop me again?"

The tension between you was electric, the air thick with unspoken challenges. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something biting, something that would cut as sharply as your words.

Instead, he leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. "Next time, I won’t go easy on you."

"Good," you replied, your smirk widening. "I’d hate for this to get boring."

i am actually going to scream

i searched for sirius x reader not poly!marauders x reader so start actually giving me some sirius fics and stop giving me poly fics

Hello Lauren!

Would I be able to request a one shot between Janson and the reader? I have seen the two posts you have of Janson x Reader and I was disappointed as the second one shot was left at a cliffhanger as I am a simp and can never get enough of Aidan Gillen and his on screen performances. Preferably with some fluff and angst here and there, perhaps a kiss.

Thank you!

Dr Pepper

AD Janson (Maze Runner) x OC (Lauren Patellio)

Fluff, tension, lil’ kiss

Summary: The tension rises when Janson finds an error in the reader’s work.

AN: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS— I THOUGHT I WAS THE BLOODY WEIRDO FOR CRUSHING ON RATMAN AND I TOO LOOKED UP SO MANY OTHER OF HIS ON-SCREEN PERFORMANCES BUT HE DOES NOT HAVE MANY SO IM SO STOKED TO HAVE SOMEONE ELSE ON THIS!! I sort of changed it up this time, I hope that’s alright…. BUT STILL, LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE ANYTHING CHANGED!!

(Inspired by my Cherry Dr Pepper flavoured chapstick)

Story under the cut

The hum of the lab equipment barely registered as he entered, the faint chemical tang in the air sharper than usual. She was seated near the vending machine, her back to the door, utterly engrossed in the mess of equations and notes sprawled across her workstation.

Janson paused, letting his eyes trace over the scene in silence. The way she worked—pen tapping idly, lips pursed in thought—was fascinating. She looked like she was untouchable, lost in her own world of formulas and data.

She was good, no doubt. Competent. Sharp. But she wasn’t flawless.

And tonight, that mistake was glaring.

“You missed a variable.” His voice cut through the quiet like a knife, smooth but unrelenting.

Her pen skidded across the page as she startled, spinning around to face him. For a moment, her eyes were wide, her lips parted in surprise. Then she masked it with a glare.

“God, could you make a little noise when you walk?”

Janson didn’t move. He simply stood there, arms crossed, letting her irritation wash over him. “Would you have preferred I knock?” he asked dryly, his tone making it clear how little he cared about her preferences.

Lauren narrowed her eyes, turning back to her work with an air of dismissal that almost made him laugh. “Some of us are actually trying to get things done.”

“I can see that.” He stepped closer, his boots deliberately heavy now, the faint echo of each step slicing through the lab’s sterile silence. His gaze dropped to the notebook, his smirk deepening when he saw the same glaring error.

“Dedicated, aren’t you?” he murmured, his tone laced with amusement.

She didn’t look up, but he caught the subtle clench of her jaw, the way her pen stilled for just a second too long. “If you’re just here to waste my time, Janson, I suggest you leave. Some of us actually have deadlines.”

“Deadlines,” he repeated, dragging the word out like it amused him. He stepped around her desk, leaning slightly as his shadow loomed over her work. “You mean like the one you’ll miss if this entire experiment collapses because of a basic miscalculation?”

She finally looked up, her glare sharp enough to cut. “I don’t make basic mistakes.”

His lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile. “Don’t you?”

Before she could fire back, his hand moved. Quick. Precise. His fingers curled around her throat—not to hurt, but to hold, to command. He tilted her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze as he loomed closer.

She didn’t flinch.

Her pulse thrummed against his fingers, but her eyes burned with defiance.“Does this little display make you feel powerful, Janson?”she asked, her voice cool despite the tension crackling between them.

His thumb brushed over her jaw, slow and deliberate. He leaned in, his lips hovering close enough to catch the faintest scent of her chapstick.

“No,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with something darker. “It’s that face you make that’s far more interesting.”

Her lips quirked, a daring smirk tugging at the corners. “Then you’ll be disappointed to know I’m not scared of you.”

His laugh was soft, almost inaudible, but it carried a weight that pressed against the air between them. “Are you?”

And then, he kissed her.

It wasn’t a gentle meeting of lips—it was calculated, like everything he did. His mouth pressed against hers with purpose, his hand tightening slightly on her throat as her breath caught. He didn’t rush it; he let the moment stretch, drawing it out until the faintest hint of surrender flickered across her features.

When he finally pulled back, his hand lingered on her jaw, his thumb tracing the line of her cheek as his gaze locked on hers.

“Dr. Pepper,” he said suddenly, his smirk returning, sharper than before.

She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He gestured faintly, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “Your chapstick. Dr. Pepper. Good choice.”

Her eyes narrowed, heat rising to her cheeks. “I—what does that even—”

“Sweet,” he continued, cutting her off. “Unexpected. Like you.” His fingers finally dropped away from her throat, his smirk softening into something almost…genuine. “But you’re still wrong about your stabilizing agent.”

Lauren’s mouth opened, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, but he was already moving toward the door, his coat shifting with the turn of his shoulders.

“Next time,” he called over his shoulder, his voice laced with that infuriating calm, “try not to let distractions cloud your focus.”

Hours later, when the lab was empty and the air felt heavier with the weight of the day, she stepped out into the breakroom to grab her things.

And there he was.

Janson leaned against the counter, a bottle of Dr. Pepper in his hand, the cap already twisted off. He met her gaze as he raised it to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip.

When he pulled it away, his smirk was back, paired with a faint glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Told you it was a good choice,” he said simply, his voice low and teasing.

She didn’t respond. She just shook her head, biting back a smile as she walked away.

Damn him.

Resources For Writing Sketchy Topics

Medicine

A Study In Physical Injury

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All About Mechanical Injuries (Injuries Caused By Violence)

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Portraying a kleptomaniac.

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How to portray a power driven character.

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Writing a character who lost someone important.

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New Years

Encanto x reader

fluff, comfort

Summary: On a lonely New Year’s Eve, the Madrigals bring warmth and joy, but it’s Camilo’s heartfelt care that makes her truly believe in love again.

AN: Happy new year, happy holidays! Also, this is sappy. Be warned... but I'll make sappy any time I need it, and I needed it-- so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing this.

story under the cut

The night air was crisp, a perfect blend of cool breeze and the lingering warmth of the day. From your perch on the balcony, the world below sparkled with the chaos of New Year’s Eve celebrations. In the Encanto, every home glowed with lights and laughter, the air heavy with the scent of roasted arepas and sweet empanadas. The Madrigals’ Casita, as always, stood out like a beacon of magic and life, bursting with energy. Yet here you were, leaning on the cold wrought-iron railing, a quiet observer in a sea of joy.

From your vantage point, you could see families giggling as they ducked under tables to eat their twelve grapes, one for each wish. Couples leaned into each other, their faces lit by the promise of midnight fireworks. And you? You were alone. No grapes, no kisses, just the sharp sting of solitude wrapped in a world full of celebration.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, the sound quickly carried away by the distant hum of music and chatter. It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for them—the Madrigals, the villagers, everyone—but it was hard not to feel the weight of loneliness pressing on your chest. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, wishing, just for a moment, that someone would notice the quiet shadow you cast.

And then, like magic—or perhaps because it was the Encanto—they did.

“What are you doing out here, all by yourself?” Mirabel’s voice rang out, soft yet inquisitive, as she leaned against the balcony doorframe. Her round glasses glinted in the dim light, and her wide smile carried an infectious warmth.

You turned, startled, only to see her stepping closer, holding out a small cup of warm chocolate. “You can’t spend New Year’s like this,” she said gently. “Come on, at least have some hot chocolate with me.”

A bit later, Luisa found you sitting by yourself in a quiet corner of the Casita. She didn’t say much—she didn’t need to. Instead, she handed you a heavy woolen blanket, freshly warmed from the hearth, and sat nearby, her calm presence a silent reassurance that you weren’t alone.

Isabela, ever the perfectionist, passed by next, pausing to tuck a newly conjured flower into your hair. “There,” she said with a soft smile. “You’re part of the party now.” Her graceful departure left the faint scent of jasmine in the air, a little gift that lingered with you.

Later, Antonio bounded over, his arms wrapped around a cheerful toucan that squawked happily in your direction. “The animals said you looked sad,” he said with wide-eyed sincerity. “But you don’t have to be! They like you.” He placed the toucan on your shoulder, and for a moment, the bird’s antics pulled a genuine laugh from your lips.

Pepa’s voice carried through the bustling crowd as she handed you a small plate of twelve grapes. “Eat them,” she insisted, her eyes kind but firm. “One for every wish. And don’t forget to make them count!”

Julieta’s warmth came last but not least, as she gently pressed an arepa into your hands. “Food makes everything better,” she said, her tone motherly and soothing. “You’ll see.”

By the time Camilo arrived, the night was already alight with fireworks, laughter, and cheer. He had just rushed back from the village after a long day of work, his usual playful smirk replaced by a look of earnest concern. He found you leaning against a pillar near the edge of the balcony, the glow of fireworks reflecting in your eyes.

“There you are,” he said, slightly breathless but with a relieved grin. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You blinked, startled by his sudden arrival. “Camilo? Shouldn’t you be out enjoying the party?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “The party doesn’t matter if you’re not enjoying it too.” Without waiting for a reply, he draped his ruana over your shoulders, the warmth of it immediately chasing away the chill in the air. “You’ve spent enough of tonight alone.”

His presence was magnetic, pulling you out of your shell without effort. He began to talk about the funny things he’d seen in the village, mimicking people’s voices and gestures until you were laughing so hard your sides hurt. When he saw you relax, he leaned against the railing next to you, his tone softening.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “you mean a lot to us. To me.” He glanced at you, his eyes earnest. “I didn’t want the year to end without making sure you knew that.”

The weight of his words settled over you, warm and comforting. He reached out, his hand covering yours as the fireworks reached their peak, painting the sky in brilliant colors. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant cheers. “For everything.”

Camilo smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “You’ll never have to feel alone, not as long as I’m around.”

As the clock struck twelve, you felt a peace you hadn’t known in a long time. Surrounded by the Madrigals’ love and Camilo’s unwavering presence, you knew this New Year’s would be the start of something beautiful.

MAZE RUNNER

angst : 🌩

fluff : 🌸

requests : 📩

This is a SFW blog, so no smut (because I'm not quite there yet)

NEWT:

Oneshots: > Ink. 🌩 (synopsis: In his last moments of clarity, Newt writes a letter to you, fearing the end as the Flare tightens its grip on his mind, but clinging to the memory of your voice.)

> Always 🌸 (synopsis: Newt and reader having a moment to themselves where they feel safe together)

MINHO:

Oneshots:

> Well, Shuck 🌩 🌸 (synopsis: Minho and OC get trapped in the Maze overnight. With no way out and no clear path to safety, they keep their spirits up by finding comfort in each other.)

THOMAS:

GALLY:

ARIS:

JANSON: (yes, Janson, because Aidan Gillen is incredibly fine)

Shorts:

>> The escape: Backup plan (Pt. I) 🌩 (synopsis: Lauren, (OC) who’s a doctor in the facility tricks Janson with a decoy of the cure and makes a quick escape, hoping to stay ahead before he discovers the truth.)

>> The escape: Backup plan (Pt. II) 🌩 + a tiny bit of romance if you squint (synopsis: Lauren (OC)’s narrow escape from Janson)

Oneshots:

>> Dr Pepper 🌸 📩 (synopsis: The tension rises when Janson finds an error in the reader’s work.)

>> Slip of the tongue 🌩️ 📩 (synopsis: A single slip up reveals that you happen to know more than you should and that makes you a threat— to Janson.)

>> Tether 🌸 📩 (synopsis: She’s composed, controlled, impossible to crack… until Janson steps in, asking questions no one else dares to ask, and watching far too closely when she answers.)

This will be updated, please give me time to populate it. Thanks loves 🤍