Maze runner x reader imagines

Earn it: part 4

 A Beautiful Lie

I should've known.

I should've known when Thomas whispered "You're the only thing that's ever felt real."

I should've known when he kissed me like I was the only air in his lungs.

I should've known when I woke up tangled in his arms, my body aching in the best way, my heart too full for its own good.

Because it was all a lie.

The moment I stepped out of the hut that morning, hair messy, lips swollen from him, I saw them.

Thomas.

Teresa.

Huddled together near the Map Room, whispering, heads bent so close they were almost touching.

Teresa was smirking. He was listening.

And I wanted to vomit.

After everything. After he kissed me like I was the only thing in the world, after he touched me like he'd die without me, he was still choosing her.

I clenched my fists, willing the burning in my chest to stay inside. To not explode right here, in the middle of the Glade, where everyone could see the way I was breaking.

Minho noticed. He always did.

He stepped up beside me, arms crossed. "You want me to punch him?"

I let out a shaky breath. "No."

Minho exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "That shank doesn't deserve you."

I know.

So why did I still want him?

A Fool's Hope

That night, he came to me again.

Like always.

Like nothing was wrong.

I was sitting on my bed, arms wrapped around my knees, my heart trying to decide if it wanted to be angry or just hurt.

The door creaked open.

I didn't look up.

"Y/N."

His voice was soft. Like he knew. Like he knew I had seen.

I didn't respond.

Thomas sighed, stepping closer. "Look at me."

I didn't.

So he touched me instead. Fingers tilting my chin, forcing me to meet those stupid brown eyes. The same ones that had lied to me last night.

"What do you want, Thomas?" I whispered.

His thumb brushed against my cheek. "You."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Really? Because you looked pretty comfortable with Teresa today."

He stiffened. "It's not what you think."

I shoved his hand away. "Don't."

"Y/N, listen to me."

"Why should I?" I snapped, standing up, shoving at his chest. "Why should I believe anything you say when I know—I know—you're lying to me?"

He grabbed my wrists, holding me still. "I don't want her," he whispered.

I sucked in a sharp breath. "Then why do you keep running back to her?"