Minho Tmr - Blog Posts
Newt: there are only three ways to do things: the right way, the wrong way, and the Thomas way
Minho: isn't that the wrong way
Newt: yeah, but it's faster
maze the runner memes ig
/ᐠ-˕-マ~ master list for...
𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 !
《 ♡ 》 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬
nothing here yet :(
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《 ♡ 》 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲
nothing here yet :(
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《 ♡ 》 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐭
newt x blackgirl!reader rant
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《 ♡ 》 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨
nothing here yet :(
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《 ♡ 》 𝐟𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐚𝐧
nothing here yet :(
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《 ♡ 》 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬
nothing here yet :(
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《 ♡ 》 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐭
nothing here yet :(
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《 ♡ 》 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐚
nothing here yet :(
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《 ♡ 》 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚
nothing here yet :(
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𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : [active] [hiatus] [offline]
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 : [open] [closed]
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𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 :
I haven't read the books (ikik don't yell at me) so this is all movie-lore based writing.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞
Hellooo how about a Minho x she/her reader where Minho has been hit by the lightning and hs the scars and one day Reader walks on Minho being half naked and she traces his scars and theres tension building up ;) THANK YOU
I love lightning scars Minho so absolutely.
This is a relatively new request, but I'm trying to get some of the easier ones done since I'm currently away.
And I just liked this idea.
□ Sparks □
MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: See above. After TDC in the Safe Haven. You're a Right Arm member because I just like the idea.
WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, spice, typical dumb horny teenage bullshit. That's it, really.
You're a member of the Right Arm.
You're not high-ranking or necessarily special. You just ended up tagging along after Vince came through the refugee camp you were staying at.
But that doesn't mean you don't do anything. You're bold and forward, and you went through life-risking measures to help WICKED's Subjects escape.
Because, well, everyone did.
That doesn't matter now, though. They're safe, you're safe - everyone is safe and everything is okay.
Well, kind of.
Trauma doesn't just vanish. But, people are getting on with their lives.
And so are you.
You've ended up befriending some of the Gladers. Originally, you were friends with Harriet and Sonya since they'd been around a while - and they introduced you to the boys. So, you've got your own little friendship group now.
You're particularly close to Frypan and have some friendly competition with Gally. But you like them all the same.
Well...
Almost.
You don't know what it is about Minho that has you in such a chokehold. Sure, maybe if you were some innocent girl from a Maze who didn't know how to act around boys, it would make sense. But you're not.
You've survived the Scorch and the land outside of the remainder of society. It's not like Minho is the first person you've ever been attracted to either. So, why does he make you feel like this?
Apart from the fact he is undeniably attractive.
You figure it's just dumb surface level physical attraction. And with nothing else better to do, you decide to test the waters a bit.
Glancing at him across the table as the bonfire dances and his friends chat, often meeting each other's gaze. He holds it longer than he should. He always does.
Always standing or sitting next to him; your arms or your knees brushing as neither of you make any effort to grow the distance between you.
Playful inside jokes that often have subtle suggestive undertones. Normally, in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it style that the other Gladers brush off or don't notice. This results in Minho smirking into his chosen beverage, drinking up your figure out of the corner of his eye.
It goes on like this for a while; just being in the same friend group with some subtle flirtations going on. It's actually kind of fun and a much needed way to relax.
But it doesn't actually go much further than that. And you're fine with that.
For a while.
The jokes start becoming more explicit. The eye contact becoming less subtle. The closeness becoming drunken dancing instead of just standing together.
People are starting to notice.
The dumb attraction is starting to become actual feelings. He's brave and strong and funny and everything you want - and it's just making the sexual tension thicker.
God - it's getting bad. Anyone and everyone in a room with you two would be able to feel it.
The Gladers often tease Minho about it, talking about how he's one wrong move away from ripping your clothes off and cracking where he stands.
It's taking a lot of resilience from the both of you. Especially since you're both stubborn - it's become a silent game of who will crumble first.
"Hey, (Y/N)!" You're currently sorting out bedding and hauling different types of sleeping arrangements around camp. With Gally being put in charge of the Builders now, the huts are being thrown up like there's no tomorrow.
The Gladers and other Maze Subjects got the first available buildings, along with high up Right Arm members. You don't really mind, to be fair, you enjoy the hammocks and are happy to help the Gladers.
But as Thomas shouts you, you groan, turning around, blankets threatening to spill out of your hold. "Hey, Thomas. You good?"
"Yeah," something seems off about him as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, "I know you're already busy, but could you check on Minho for me?"
"Huh?" You tilt your head, concern immediately setting in. "Why? Is something wrong?"
"Uh," Thomas did not think this far ahead of his dumb plan. "Well, we just haven't seen him all day - seems kinda down. Figured you'd be the best person to speak to him."
This perplexes you. "Why me? You guys are closer."
And you could've sworn you'd seen Gally and Minho shoving each other about earlier today. Though, maybe you're just mixing up your days.
"Yeah, but he likes you, so..." You pause, farrowing your brows. He likes you? In what context? Like you know that he likes you. But... like, more than just the dumb flirting?
You shake it off. "Alright, gimme a second."
You dump the bedding off where it needs to be and make a beeline for Minho's hut.
Little do you know that Minho has just gotten out of the shower - and is completely fine. Thomas and Frypan decided they'd had enough of enduring the tension between you and this is the result that.
Reaching the door, it's slightly ajar, and in your concerned state, you, for some reason, decide not to knock.
"Hey, Minho, are you-?" You push open the door and immediately freeze.
Well, shit.
Minho stands with his back to you, loose sweatpants hanging off of his hips and he's without a shirt. He rubs his hair with a towel, freezing at your voice and turning slightly to look at you.
Which would be less awkward if you weren't in some kind of trance.
Minho is tall and muscular, and he doesn't have to be half naked for you to be aware of that. But, that's not what's stands out.
All over his upper body, mainly populating his back, are pinkish lines. They travel down his spine and split like webs across his back, some whisps creeping across his sides and grazing his front.
"You just gonna stare or ask me about it?" Minho says after a good few seconds pass.
What do you even ask?
"Uh, what... why..?" You trail off and Minho raises his eyebrow before scoffing.
"I got hit by lightning." He states matter-of-factly. "Ended up giving me some scars."
"When did that happen?"
"Out in the Scorch, just before we met Brenda and Jorge."
"And you never mentioned this?"
"Well, it didn't seem like a big deal," he smirks. "And I'm kinda enjoying the look on your face."
This kind of snaps you back into reality. You're here for a reason.
You clear you throat, closing the door behind you for more privacy just in case the ex-Runner is on the verge of a meltdown. "Are you... alright?"
"Uh, yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Minho is growing more concerned by the second. What is happening here?
"Well, Thomas said that something was wrong and asked me to talk to you."
Minho scoffs, putting the dots together and slowly nodding his head before rubbing his face with his hands. "Did he, now? Shuckin' slinthead. I knew they were up to something."
"Huh?"
"They're messing with you - us, even."
"Huh? Why would- oh! Oh."
Ah. That makes more sense. And is mildly mortifying.
"Yeah." Minho shakes his head, turning away from you again as he mumbles to himself. "Sorry, my friends are dicks."
"It's uh, fine. It's fine."
Your gaze falls back on Minho's chiselled form. He's practically mouth-watering.
And it's not like this is weird. You've been pushing each other's boundaries since day one. This could be another opportunity to see how far you can take things. I mean, he would if this were the other way around. So, with a sudden peak in confidence, you walk over.
Minho chucks his towel on his bed. "So, are you-?"
Minho doesn't even get the chance to finish his question as electricity sparks through him. Again. This time, not because he's nearly dying, but because your fingers graze his back.
His entire body stills, his mind immediately becoming foggy, and the hair on his arms stands on end.
"Do they still hurt?" You ask, your gaze focused on his skin and your voice low.
You're gentle in your moments, letting your fingertips barely tickle his flesh. But with the immediate and tense reaction, you're reminded that Minho is about as touch-straved as someone can get.
He's just good at hiding it.
"Uh, no, not really. They kinda feel weird sometimes, and I was really buggin' out about them when I first noticed them. But I guess I had bigger klunk on my plate." He tries to maintain his composure, but his voice wavers at several points.
You bring your hand higher, dancing across his spine and between his shoulder blades.
"Why were you buggin' out?" You've grown somewhat used to the Glader way of speaking.
He hesitates for a second, physically jumping when your other hand joins in, using your thumb to rub circles and pull at the scars threating to escape to his middrift.
"Well, I uh- shit," he mumbles the cuss word, stepping back more and into your touch, letting his head fall back. "I just... they just look weird, yanno?"
"I think they look hot."
Okay, you're becoming very bold.
"Hm? You think I look hot?" He asks, half-looking over his shoulder at you, not wanting to fully turn around and lose the feeling.
"That's not what I said."
"That's what I'm askin'."
You blink at him, watching his lopsided smile creep across his face.
In a game of confidence - Minho will always win.
Which means trying to play it cool.
"I just think scars are interesting, they tell a story."
"Do you go around touching everyone's scars, then?" He cracks a wicked grin you can't see as he turns his head away again. "That might get you in a bit of trouble around here."
"Yeah, but not with you." It actually is genuinely fun tracing the patterns in his skin. You have one hand following one path and the other following a different one.
"Oh, yeah? How do you know that?"
"Because you like it."
He peers at you again, his face suddenly serious and his tone lower than before. "You're really starting to push it, yanno that?"
"Push what?" You tilt your head, pretending to play innocent.
"You know what."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"So, you're just feeling me up because you think my scars are hot?" He scoffs. "That's what's happening here?"
You think for a second. Fuck it. "Yep."
"Well, there's more scars if you wanna touch them?"
Your eyes flicker to his face, letting your arms fall from his skin. He turns around, holding his hands behind his back, he rocks on his heels.
From his back, travelling to his front are smaller webs of the scarring. At first glance, you thought they only reached around his sides, but now you're realising there's thinner, less noticeable branches trailing across his abs.
He presses his lips into a thin line, almost like he's calling your bluff. Because this is the game you've been playing. Pushing each other. And you've pushed him so he's pushing you.
Though, this very well might end up being the breaking point.
Too stubborn to back down, your hand connects with his stomach area. He flinches, but very quickly relaxes again. You gently run your fingers across the lines and the curves of not only the remains of the electricity, but of just his body.
Your eyes flicker to his face as you expect him to make some cocky comment about how that's not a scar. But he doesn't. His eyes are fixated on your hand.
It's a feeling he's never really experienced before - watching someone enjoy him. Someone touch him with such care. With such want. Someone touching him like this at all is new.
And it's you.
You're the one touching him.
You.
And that's making it so much worse.
He doesn't make any effort to hide or stop the tightening sensation in his pants or the way his chest is rising and falling. His mind is falling into complete fog; he feels like he's taken something he probably shouldn't have.
You notice it, too.
"Minho-?"
"Shut up," he says almost immediately, eyes finally meeting yours. His pupils are wide and his eyelids heavy. "This... this isn't fair. You can't..."
He seems a strange mix of stressed and turned on.
"Okay, I'll stop," you pull your hand away, but he immediately grabs it, laying it flat against his middrift. "Minho?"
"Don't," he mumbles. "Don't stop." He can't look at you properly.
God, what's happening to him?
"Look," he continues, trying to gain some sort of clarity for a second. "If you're just messing around, that's fine, but leave now, okay? 'Cause this is getting cruel."
His words and the way he's acting is sending heat straight to your core. You step towards him, your faces inches apart.
"Are you caving, Minho?" Your voice is sultry as your hand slides further down his front.
"Are you?" He responds, leaning in further, your noses brush and you can feel his breath on your face.
"We can't keep doing this, yanno? One of us has to break eventually." You mumble, practically into his lips.
His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips.
"Shuck it," his hands come to your waist, yanking you closer as he finally kisses you. You squeak from the force behind it as you throw you arms around his neck, clawing into his back to try and steady yourself.
It takes a matter of seconds for Minho to spin you around, pushing you onto the bed, both of you tangling together. Desperation sets in fairly quickly.
Minho's hands under your shirt as you try to pull it over your head. His lips on your neck and chest as he slips a hand under you, trying to yank your jeans down. You leave stains on his skin from your nails.
It's a blur of emotion and hormones.
Then Minho hesitates as he sits back. At first, you think he's just admiring you as you lay in your underwear, but there's something else.
"You good?" You ask, becoming concerned.
"You know we're not gonna be friends anymore if we do this, right? Like the flirting and klunk is fun, but this is different. We can't take this back. A-and I've never done this before. I don't wanna shuck up our friendship or make things weird."
You blink at him before sitting up. He watches you as you move onto your knees and kiss him again.
"I don't wanna be your damn friend, Minho. Take the hint."
It's like there's a light behind his eyes, a smile creeping across his face, but unlike his usual cocky smirk, it's soft and warm and genuine.
He pecks your lips. It's sweet and unusual for him. "You wanna be more than friends, then?"
"Yeah," you chuckle, "but I'm sure we can worry about that later. We're a bit busy right now." You wrap your arms around his neck again, lightly touching the scars on his back. He grins at you, connecting your lips again as he pushes you down.
He pulls away, his teeth brushing your ear lobe as he lets out a low chuckle.
"Sounds like a good plan."
Here ya go, another spicey Minho piece for y'all.
I hope you enjoyed :))