Maze Runner One Shots (Requests Open)

Hellish Days (Frypan)

It was pure stupidity to not think about how hot the Safe Haven would be. Obviously, the Scorch was terrible. The sun was basically a death sentence, along with literally everything else, but summertime here is the depths of hell. Not even the water was any use, instead turning into the fastest way to get boiling water.

Unfortunately, Fry refuses to see a problem with that.

“You need a break from that damn kitchen. You're going to give yourself heat stroke,”I said firmly.

“I’m almost finished,”he insisted without glancing up from his beloved stew. I swear he looks at it with more love than he does me sometimes. I understand why too. It's a recipe he’s worked hard to perfect, a flawless craft of meat and vegetables. If it didn't involve a burning fire it would be perfectly safe.

“You’ve been almost finished five times now,”I reminded him. He merely shrugged as if he had no control over the situation, too fixated on the thing that could wait until tomorrow.

Before he could kill himself, I reached over the small window of the kitchen, grabbing a paper plate that hopefully he wasn't using. Folding it upwards a little bit, I ensured it would be sturdy and actually useful before leaning over to fan his side at least.

“I’m fine back here. My kitchen would never hurt me,”he said while turning the stove down another simmer before going to stir again.

“Fry-”
“I’ve got it all under control. I pinkie swear,”he insisted, giving me a sweet smile as he leaned over the counter, holding his finger out for me. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes at his lack of self care, I reluctantly hooked my pinkie onto his, holding in a scream at his apparent need for self destruction.

“You're the only one I’d interrupt my cooking for, you know,”he said softly, bringing the back of my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my skin. With that melting me more than the sun, I went back to fanning him without pointing out how wrong this could actually go. Just for now.