His Teddy-Bear 🥾Minho TMR💨 (Pre Thomas)

The Incident

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Delilah moved through the trees, the soft crunch of leaves under her boots calming her as she wandered further into the woods. She decided she just needed some time to unwind. The cool night air was refreshing, and the stars above provided enough light for her to see the familiar shapes of the Glade's boundary, her mind finally quieting after the intense day.

But as she walked deeper into the shadows, she couldn't shake an odd sense of unease. The Glade was usually a sanctuary; it was strange to feel anything but peace out here-compared to the maze that is. She took a breath, willing herself to relax. Maybe she was just jumpy after the Maze, or maybe Joshua's lingering stares were getting to her more than she cared to admit.

Just as she was about to turn back toward the main area of the Glade, she heard it-a whisper. Her name, barely audible, as if carried on the wind.

"Delilah..."

She froze, her heart skipping. The voice was behind her, too close for comfort. Before she could react, rough hands grabbed her arms and twisted them back, her wrists bound in a flash. She struggled, instinctively pulling against the restraint, but the hands held firm. And then she was forced downward, her body hitting the ground with a hard thud that stole the breath from her lungs. Her head harshly hitting the floor, making her vision blur.

She twisted, gasping, and found herself staring up at Joshua.

Her eyes widened with a surge of pure fear. The usual quiet, reserved look he wore was gone, replaced with something dark, twisted, and hungry.

"Joshua," she gasped, her voice trembling. "What the hell are you doing? Let me go!"

But he didn't respond with any semblance of the person she thought she knew. Instead, he sneered, his lips curling as he leaned over her, pinning her in place. "You think you can walk around here, acting like you're one of us, acting all tough? You're just a girl. The only girl. And you think I can just... ignore that?"

Delilah's heart pounded in her chest, terror clawing at her insides as she struggled under his weight. "Get off me!" she screamed, desperation breaking through her voice as she tried to push him away. "Help! Somebody, help!"

But her cries only seemed to spur him on. His hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her. "Shut up," he growled, his eyes narrowing with frustration. "No one's gonna hear you out here."

His free hand moved down to her shirt, fumbling with the buttons as he held her down. She felt her skin go cold, a sick wave of fear rolling through her as she realized his intent. She tried to scream again, thrashing wildly beneath him, but he was stronger, his hold relentless.

"You think you're better than us," he sneered, his face mere inches from hers. "All high and mighty, like you're too good. Well, you're not." His hand yanked her shirt open, the buttons popping, exposing her sports bra beneath. 'You're just a girl, in fact just a hot, useless bitch'. Delilah gasped, her mind racing with panic, the reality of her helplessness crashing over her.

His hands moved down to her jeans, his fingers fumbling with the button, and she knew she had to do something-anything-to get free. She screamed again, louder this time, hoping, praying that someone would hear.

And then, just as Joshua's hand started to tug at her waistband, something slammed into him, sending him sprawling off her. She gasped, momentarily stunned, as her vision cleared enough to see Minho, his face contorted with fury, landing a solid punch to Joshua's jaw.

Minho didn't hold back, his fists flying as he pummeled Joshua, each hit punctuated by a raw, seething anger. "You sick bastard," Minho spat, his voice a low, dangerous growl. That was the only thing he spoke though.

Joshua barely had time to raise his arms in defense before another punch landed, blood spraying from his nose as he crumpled beneath Minho's relentless assault. Delilah pushed herself up, her hands still bound behind her, but relief washed over her as she watched Minho's rage consume her attacker.

"Minho-" she managed, her voice barely a whisper, but he didn't hear her, his focus entirely on Joshua. The fury in Minho's eyes was something she'd never seen before, a protective, unyielding wrath that seemed ready to destroy anyone who threatened the Gladers-who threatened her.

Finally, Joshua stopped moving, his body slumped, his face bruised and bloodied as he lay on the ground, groaning weakly. Minho stood over him, chest heaving, his fists clenched tight, as if he were barely restraining himself from delivering another blow.

He turned to Delilah, his gaze softening slightly as he saw her there, shaken but alive. Without a word, he knelt beside her, carefully undoing the binds around her wrists. She could feel the warmth of his hands, steady and reassuring, as he helped her sit up, her own hands trembling slightly as the feeling returned to them.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low, but she could hear the worry in it, the barely contained anger still simmering beneath the surface.

Delilah nodded, though her throat felt tight, her mind still reeling from the shock. She couldn't muster any words to come out of her mouth. Maybe she didn't want to talk. All she could do in that moment was cry. The hot tears falling gently onto her bruised cheeks.

Minho's gaze lingered on her, his eyes softening as he took in her disheveled appearance, her shirt still open, exposing her sports bra. He quickly looked away, averting his gaze to give her a moment of privacy. Shrugging off his jacket, he draped it around her shoulders and zipped it up, a protective gesture that sent a surge of warmth through her despite everything.

"Thank you," she whispered, clutching the jacket tightly, her body violently shaking. The faint scent of earth and sweat clung to the fabric, oddly comforting in the aftermath of her terror.

Minho nodded, his jaw still clenched as he glanced back at Joshua's unconscious form. "I'm going to make sure he never lays a hand on you-or anyone else-again," he muttered, the promise in his voice like iron.

Delilah felt a swell of gratitude, the words catching in her throat. She didn't know what to do, how to express the mixture of relief and fear and gratitude that overwhelmed her. She had never felt so vulnerable, but Minho's presence-his strength and protectiveness-grounded her.

"Let's get you back to the Glade," he said gently, helping her to her feet. His hand lingered on her arm, steadying her as she took a shaky step forward. She glanced back at Joshua, still lying on the ground, and a shiver ran through her.

"Minho," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Thank you. I don't... I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't-"

He shook his head, cutting her off. "You don't have to thank me," he replied, his tone soft but firm. "No one should ever have to go through that. Not here. Not anywhere."

Before Delilah could second guess herself, she found her head meeting the top of his broad shoulder, burring her face into his top. Her tears dampening the fabric. Minho didn't faulted though, in fact her held her in his arms. His usual cold, unemotional demeanour seemingly vanishing in this sensitiver moment.

They both sat there in each others arms for a moment, no sound other then her soft sobs, muffled by his body.

They walked in silence back toward the now moonlit Glade, Delilah still clinging to his jacket, the weight of the night's events settling heavily in her mind. She knew she would carry this with her for a long time, but Minho's presence beside her brought a sense of safety she hadn't expected.

As they reached the edge of the Glade, Minho looked at her, his expression solemn. "If you need anything, anything at all... I'm here. Don't ever hesitate."

Delilah nodded, managing a small, grateful smile. For the first time, she realized that Minho wasn't just her leader or her fellow Runner-he was someone she could trust, someone who would protect her, even against the monsters within their own walls.