Maze Runner Imagines and Preferences

Sleepyhead -- Thomas

This idea is actually from my friend who has asked not to be tagged. Thankyou Emily, hope you like it!

I wake to pale morning light streaming through the trees, I can feel a stick poking into my ribs. Beneath my cheek, Thomas's chest rises and falls evenly – he's still asleep.

I lie there for a minute, then sit up, careful not to wake my sleeping boyfriend. Memories of last night flood my mind, and I smile.

"Hey,"

I look down, I guess I wasn't careful enough.

"Morning sleepyhead," I smile, placing a kiss on his forehead, "enjoy yourself?"

"I'm enjoying myself right now, with you." He sits up, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and kissing my shoulder.

"You're so sweet," I laugh, twisting around in his arms to look at him.

"Hey baby," he smiles, "you know what else is sweet?"

"Don't say it," I groan, playfully slapping him over his ribcage. He laughs, his warm chest moving against mine. I lean forwards, kissing his lips lightly.

"Oh?" he mumbles against my mouth, then kisses back, trying to deepen it.

"No," I pull away, "I'm way too tired for round two."

"Who said anything about round two?"

"Oh," I say, embarrassed, "I just uh... I was just..."

"Relax," he smiles, "I'm just screwing with you."

I wiggle my eyebrows, a smirk playing around my lips. He groans, dropping his forehead onto my shoulder.

"Oh, come on," I laugh, "you're dating the biggest flirt in the shuck Glade and you expect me not to take that golden opportunity?"

"Yeah," he says, his voice muffled by my chest, "I walked into that."

"Ok," I slap his back lightly, "get off, I should go make breakfast."

"Since when do you make breakfast?" he says, still with his arms around my waist.

"Well I just figured Frypan could use the help. Besides," I add, "we were kind of loud."

"Fine," he sighs, letting go of me, "I guess you're right."

"I'm always right," I say, looking around for my clothes. I spot my bra and shirt a few meters away, and my pants and underpants not far from them.

I get up, pulling them on and chuck Thomas's clothes to him.

"Where are my... ah." I go over to my boots and socks, pulling them on and doing up the laces.

"Ready to face the music?" Thomas asks, standing and buttoning up his pants.

"Oh no," I groan, "we are never going to hear the end of this from Minho."

"Maybe he's already gone," Thomas says hopefully, taking my hand in his and picking up the blankets.

"I hope so."

We drop the blankets at the edge of the Deadheads where we usually sleep, and make our way to the kitchen.

"Hey, Fry," I say, leaning against the bench, "want any help?"

"Yeah," he says, "but wash your hands first."

I do as he says, then dry them off on a tea-towel.

"You can make sandwiches for the runners," he tells me, "bread's in that cupboard and there's cheese and vegetables too."

"What do you want in your sandwich today?" I ask Thomas.

"Um..." he thinks for a moment, then points at the cucumber and tomatoes. "Cucumber, tomatoes, and cheese, would be nice," he smiles hopefully at me.

"Ok," I grab a knife from the drawer, "here we go."

"So," Frypan says eventually, grinning at us, "you two have fun last night?"

I slip, almost cutting my finger, and Thomas chokes on the water he's drinking.

"We were sleeping," I lie, concentrating hard on the tomato I'm cutting.

"Oh really?" he continues, "So you're gonna tell me it was the Beetle Blades in the Deadheads that screamed out "bloody hell, Thomas"?"

"Definitely a Beetle Blade," Thomas says, and I feel my face heating up. I had, in fact, said that, but I wouldn't call it "screaming."

"You sure?" Frypan asks, "Because it sure sounded a lot like (Y/N), your girlfriend."

"It was a Beetle Blade," I insist, "no doubt about it."

"What's this about Beetle Blades?" I look up from the tomato to see Newt standing next to Thomas, glancing between the three of us.

"I was just saying how a Beetle Blade allegedly screamed out "bloody hell Thomas" in (Y/N)'s voice last night," Frypan says, grinning down at the food he's preparing.

"It was definitely a Beetle Blade," Thomas says, taking another sip of water.

"Interesting," Newt rubs a hand across his chin, a furrow appearing between his brows, "I could have sworn I heard someone yell "oh god (Y/N) I'm coming" in Thomas's voice, but I guess if we have Beetle Blades imitating (Y/N)..."

Again, Thomas chokes on his water.

"Damn Beetle Blades," I say, trying to hide my embarrassment. Once again, that was something that Thomas had said, but again, I didn't think it was that loud.

"Beetle Blades?" we're joined by Minho, and I look away, moving on to a cucumber.

"Yeah," Frypan explains, "they were imitating (Y/N) and Thomas last night."

"Ah," he says, "that would explain a lot. I assume these Beetle Blades were in the Deadheads?"

"Guys," Thomas says, "stop it. Just let the Beetle Blades have their fun, ok?"

"Well," Frypan says, "when the Beetle Blades interrupt everyone else's sleep and leave them with rather disturbing mental images, we have to do something about said Beetle Blades."

"Look," I put down the knife, "I'm sure the Beetle Blades are very sorry that they disturbed your sleep, but they probably just got caught up in the heat of the moment. I'm sure they'll be much quieter next time they decide to imitate me and Thomas."

"Well," says Newt, "I suppose we should all just accept the Beetle Blade's apologies and move on."

"An excellent idea," I sigh, relieved. 

Okkkkk... so you can probably tell I've never slept with anyone, I'm just going off what I've sort of picked up from tumblr... (no, I don't watch porn or read openly explicit fanfics)