Aris Jones X Reader One Shots

Pretty Things (Part 1)

Clubbing hadn't been part of the plan for finding Thomas and Brenda. Then again things don't exactly go according to plan around the Scorch. That's how Aris pulled the short straw to be the sacrifice and drink. Of course, Y/N wasn't going to let him suffer again. Now the others were beating the shit out of Marcus which consequently gave the two teenagers time to run off.

Colors. There were so many bright, blinding colors around them. With a foggy head and loud music Y/N let loose and ignored the brutality towards Cranks just a few yards or maybe feet away. It was hard to tell with the drugs or alcohol or whatever was given to her, in her system.

Putting her arms in the air, she let the music flow through her body as it was loud enough to practically vibrate inside her skull. Or maybe that was whatever she was under the influence of. Not that she cared. For once, she felt free. No thoughts of despair or death filled her mind. Only relaxing. Dangerously relaxing, but she couldn't stop it now.

Aris watched from the corner, squinting his eyes as to help the headache. He was the exact opposite, shivering and breathing heavily as he tried to figure out what was happening to his mind. That fucking straw. He had to pull the short straw. Not level headed Newt, tough Minho, brave Teresa, bulky Frypan, or adult Jorge. No. It was him. Scrawny, lightweight, anxious Aris. Why wouldn't it be?

Leaning against a wall, he tried to make out anything around him. It didn't work though. Nothing was real. For him, he was in hell. For Y/N, she was grateful for the release.

Still, despite her blurred vision she spotted someone watching her or at the very least attempting. The backpack with the bat sticking out and the green jacket showed her who it was. Because she may have forgotten the world, but she wouldn't forget him. She couldn't if she tried. No matter what she would know his face.

Slowly walking over to avoid falling to the ground, she stood in front of him. He gazed at her, her hair messy from how she had ran her fingers through it, her face having purple sparkles that some random girl had been kind enough to share, her disheveled and wrinkled shirt, ripped at the sleeves to show her arms, her red, dazed, and glassy eyes, and most importantly her lips upturned into this sort of smile.

"You look like shit,"She slurred. He gawked at her as she let out this small laugh, wondering how the hell their reactions could be so different. Both to whatever was in their system and how they saw each other. "But you're still so pretty,"She whispered.

"We need to leave,"He murmered, feeling the paranoia sink into his veins.

"Why? It's nice here. Nothing to worry about. Just the dancing. Just the headaches. Everything else is nice. It's bright. It's shiny,"She listed.

"It hurts my eyes,"He reasoned, every sound, including his own voice, being alien to him.

"Relax. Feel the peace,"She babbled, putting her arms around his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he put his hands on her back as they swayed back and forth.

"You're pretty,"She repeated. He still didn't speak, didn't even open his eyes, as he put his head in her neck.

"I like pretty things. They're so, so nice. There aren't many so when I find them I need them. I keep them. No matter who they may have belonged to I make them mine. I pick them up and hold them. Keep them forever and ever,"She listed.

"That's not good. To get attached to things like that,"He pointed out, looking up at her.

"Then, they shouldn't be so nice to be around. You shouldn't be so nice to be around if I wasn't supposed to get close,"She shrugged, leaning in. In his delirious state, he did the same. Tangling his hands in her already knotted hair, he happily kissed her. She deepened it, causing the taste of whatever they drank to become clearer on their lips, on their tongues.

Feeling his headache get worse as ran out of air, he pulled away and took in as much as he could. Shaky and still holding her, her eyes switched to familiar blue ones. Her hair was still in a disarray, but he knew those brown locks better than anyone. Her pale skin, soft, plump lips, faint freckles, and perfect face was in front of him. With reality being twisted he kissed her deeper, pushing her against the wall behind them. Putting his hands on her waist, he mumbled something against her lips that would ruin everything.

"I missed you,"He said, his eyes still shut.

"Missed who?"Y/N asked. Her voice snapped him back into where he was and reminded him who he was kissing.

"No,"He denied as Y/N stood there, trying to figure out if it was the drugs or he truly wasn't making sense.

"You're not Rachel,"He breathed out, pulling away. Expecting her to do something else out if character the second he said that, like slap him, or scream, he was shocked when she grinned, but that did nothing to mask the pain in her eyes.

"Pretty things don't like me,"She sighed.

"I-"
"Sweet. You're so sweet, but when you cut, you cut deep."

"We need to leave,"He reminded her, not knowing what else to say.

"No. I like it here. I don't have to feel,"She explained, ignoring her heart shattering in her chest. Before his already slow reflexes could do something, she left, keeping her arms up as she danced by herself. He stared as some stranger, the nice girl who shared her makeup, joined her. The way she had with him, she put her arms around Y/N. As they spun he spotted her face. She had long, blonde hair with purple streaks put in a messy braid, droopy eyes, a black crop top under a leather jacket, fishnets with shorts and a studded belt, and knee high boots to top it off. With dark lips and smudged mascara, she seemed to have put hours into this ruined look.

"I like you. You're pretty,"the girl slurred to Y/N.

"I like all pretty things. Even when they hurt,"She admitted.

"Do you think I would hurt you?"the stranger asked.

"Probably. Like this shiny, purple rock I found once. It cut my hand,"She answered. "It had the purple that your hair does,"She added, touching it.

"That's nice. Can I kiss you?"She asked, being blunt and uncaring that Y/N was someone she didn't know.

"No. I don't wanna kiss anyone,"She shook her head.

"Okay. Then, let's just dance,"She sighed, putting her face in her shoulder. With them still spinning, Aris felt his head do the same. That, combined with whatever he took and this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach made him lean over and throw up. As Y/N heard wretching she opened her eyes to see him about to collapse on the floor. Walking away from the girl, she was unaffected as she kept dancing.

"Go. We're gonna go,"Y/N directed, tugging on Aris's arm. He groaned as his knees gave out. Before he could fall in his own vomit she pulled him close to her. While he was slowly going unconscious she put his arm over her shoulder and dragged him to an empty spot near the entrance. Pulling some random napkin off of a table, she wiped his mouth. Then, she looked around and started asking for water. Any kind. Tap, plain, bottled, in a cup, opened, whatever. She just needed water.

With Aris keeping his eyes closed and panting, she asked someone who was just coming in. A boy in a spiked collar with dyed red hair, green eyeshadow, too long, black jeans, and ripped white shirt gave her an unopened bottle before walking on.

"Drink,"She demanded, unscrewing the cap. When all she got was another grunt she put his head back before pouring it in his mouth. Taking a long sip of the cold, refreshing drink, he felt it made him sleepier. Realizing this, she laid his head on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry,"He whispered.

"Shut up,"She sighed. Knowing he hurt her, he did so as he dozed off on her shoulder.