:))
Hellloooo!!! I don’t wanna add to your workload so if this just piles on, please delete it! 😅😊 I just had an idea for a newt x reader fic where they’re in an established relationship in the Glade and during a bonfire one night the boys all ask newt questions about what it’s like to date reader and how it feels and newt just answers with the upmost sweetness. Reader overhears and fluff ensues!!!!
fluff ensues has got to be one of my favorite plot descriptions. like yeah it absolutely will do that (and no worries, nothing will stop the workload from being! newt just helps make it better <3)
masterlist
Newt is aware that he is a little bit luckier than most. This is a sentiment that he never thought he’d be caught dead believing. Not in the Glade. Not in the Maze. Not anywhere in this surreal mess of a place. Yet it’s on repeat in his head on a day to day basis nonetheless, ticking off the hours like an alarm clock consisting solely of his blessings.
Newt didn’t think he’d have that much to brag about. No memories means no history he can mention to his equally luckless friends. Still, he’s got one important victory in his life that no one else can even dream of, and that’s the fact that he’s dating Y/N. Yeah, that certainly sets him apart in the world of good things given to kids who can’t quite convince themselves they deserve them.
Some would say that Newt is being a little dramatic. He would argue that his response is perfectly within reason. One girl has been sent up in all the months that anyone’s been in the Glade, one girl and one girl alone, and she just happened to choose him. Around here, that’s grounds for being nominated for sainthood.
Newt isn’t going to act like he’s not just over the moon every time he thinks about the whole situation. Against all odds, Y/N fell in love with him. That’s so unreal that Newt has to pinch himself every hour on the hour just to make sure it isn’t a dream. He never tries too hard, though. Just in case.
He didn’t have many thoughts on love before she came up. There wasn’t really time now, was there? It was just him and the scores of other stragglers making do in their bloody terrible world. You don’t spend much time lingering over potential sweethearts when the closest thing to a Romeo is Gally yelling at everyone in the Glade except his friends.
Not great dating material, to say the least. Even when Y/N came up that one month, though, he still hadn’t fallen for her from the start. He liked her, obviously, she was nice and didn’t test his patience, but he was perfectly content to keep her as a friend, just that. Great expectations have a way of letting you down. Newt’s learned that if you keep your eyes on the ground, stop looking up at the sun and stars, you’ll be able to deal with it a little easier when all your brightest aspirations go away.
He’d done that before and he planned on doing it again. Even as time passed and he realized that his heart had a funny way of speeding up whenever she was nearby, when it occurred to him that his daily routines always had a way of working in chances to see her, Newt forced himself to ignore everything. Maybe he liked the way the morning sunlight always played on Y/N’s face, maybe he could have spent hours wondering over the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs. It was nothing that he could ever commit to treasuring above anything else.
It took several rounds of self-talk and about a dozen different interventions staged by his friends for Newt to get up the courage to tell Y/N how he felt. Hell, it took at least half of those interventions for him to even admit how he felt to himself. Newt had been internalizing for so long that bringing some of those emotions to the forefront of his attention was damned near impossible. Minho, Alby, and a few others, however, were so sick of seeing him ‘mope around like a lovesick fool,’ to quote them specifically, that they were dedicated to the task of getting him in order.
It worked, too. Newt had run through what could have been a hundred speech variations in his head, all mentioning her character or her sense of humor or any one of the millions of things he liked about her best. In the end, he didn’t choose a single one. The second Newt pulled Y/N away from a crowd of their friends for ‘something he needed to say in private,’ every single whirlwind of thoughts storming through his head came to an abrupt stop. He totally blanked out.
Newt wouldn’t even know that he managed to force any words out at all were it not for the fact that the effects of that interaction are quite obvious. Somehow, Y/N ended up returning his affections, and they’ve been doing pretty well ever since. Newt doesn’t like counting his eggs before they hatch and all that, but he’d go so far as to say that he doesn’t see it ever breaking down for quite some time, if ever. They’re alright. They’re great, and they’re happy, and in a place like this, you take that and run with it for as long as you can. Maybe it’ll ruin itself someday, but Newt plans on pushing that off to the distant future for forever and a day.
In the meantime, Newt gets to think about how lucky he is. Despite the fact that Y/N’s apparently been crushing on him for just as long as he started liking her, and despite the fact that Frypan proclaims on a daily basis that he’s never seen two shanks more alike, Newt still feels like all of this is just one great coincidence. Maybe it was never supposed to happen, but it did, and he’s going to love that and her for as long as he can.
She’s waiting for him now, he thinks. Work is over for the day, and there’s a Bonfire Night happening this evening too, courtesy of the shivering Greenie fresh out of the Box who still can’t seem to keep his shock from showing. The fool to whom this celebration is owed looks like he’s going to keel over, what from the way he keeps half doing a backbend from continually craning his neck up to stare at the Walls, but the rest of them can get drunk and fuck around and generally have a good time.
Greenies never appreciate their Bonfire Nights enough anyway. It’s up to the rest of the Gladers to show them what it’s like to have fun. Who knows the next time they’ll be able to stop stressing over the ruins of their lives anyway? Newt’s heard half a dozen Gladers proclaim that they only live bonfire to bonfire anyway. They might as well prove it tonight.
Newt meets Y/N on the outskirts of the bonfire just as the dark starts to fall. Dusk kicks up its heels, keeping watch over the revels and hiding the sun, which can never bear to see whatever mistakes they’re going to make next. Y/N holds out a hand to him, one Newt gladly accepts.
“I can’t believe it’s been six months now since I first showed up,” she grins, gesturing towards the Box with her free hand, “Feels like just yesterday.”
Newt snorts. “Time flies when you’re having fun, huh? Trust me, the Greenie Days get faster and faster. I swear I just finished touring the last kid, and now we’ve got another one to keep pestering us with questions.”
Y/N shakes her head, considering this. “Nah, I think this one will be better. He’s too scared to speak above a whisper. If you try, you can just ignore him.”
Newt chuckles. “I’m not supposed to be bullying the Greenies. Alby says I’m meant to set a good example.”
“I saw Alby telling Minho to trip the new kid to see if he’d finally make a sound if he bit the dirt,” Y/N comments, “I don’t think kindness is really in our books.”
Newt arches a brow. “I could see that happening. Did it work?”
“No,” Y/N says, disappointed, “Kid was so scared to move a muscle that he didn’t fall at all. Just kind of stopped walking like he’d hit a wall instead of Minho’s ankle.”
Newt tries to bite back a smile. He’s only half successful. “Shame. That would have been fun to see.”
Y/N laughs. “That’s what I said. Anyways, they’re all over there, near the fire. I think the next strategy is to give the kid some of Gally’s brew in the hopes that it’ll coax something out of him other than his dinner.”
Newt shudders. “Best of luck to him.”
“And to me,” Y/N replies, “I think I’m going to get a glass of my own. See you in a second.”
Newt waves a casual hand in goodbye, watching as his girlfriend weaves through the steadily forming crowds of Gladers in an attempt to track down a drink. He takes a seat near an overturned log, staring into the fire as it disappears into sparks. Six months since Y/N appeared in the Box, so it’s been indeed.
Newt can’t decide whether that feels like a long time or not nearly long enough. Y/N’s changed him in almost every way, that much is obvious. Sometimes, in meeting someone you know will impact you forever, you almost want them to have been around for much longer. Strangers aren’t meant to become your best friends, not until you’ve known them for years and you have scores of memories to share. You want to give them decades in your mind, centuries, as a sign that they’ve been so important to you. Mere months aren’t enough. Surely it should be more.
It isn’t, and maybe that’s for the best. Newt has no memories save for when he came up his own share of months ago. All his friends are new, all his enemies still more recent. Maybe the girl he loves has only been in his life for a short time, but his recorded life is short indeed. Everything is modern. That’s just how it is.
Newt becomes aware of eyes on him and realizes that he might not be the only one reminiscing about when Y/N came up in the maze. A few Gladers have come up by Newt’s side, steadily appearing out of the gloom and smoke to stare at him.
Newt glances at them questioningly, and a few moments later the bravest of them dares to voice their collective thoughts. “What’s it like dating Y/N?” The boy asks, “you know, since she’s the only girl?”
Newt smiles to himself. “It’s great,” he says.
This clearly isn’t the response the other boy wants. “Yeah,” he repeats, “but what’s it like? It’s not like the rest of us have our own girlfriends to compare it with.”
Newt bites back a laugh. “Well,” he begins, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that the other boys draw closer to him expectantly, “it’s like having a best friend, but even better. She’s someone I can talk to at any time, but I don’t have to worry about seeming uncool or weird around her. Y/N knows exactly who I am, the good and the bad, but she’s chosen to be with me anyway. It makes you feel like you can do anything.”
The boy nods, accepting this. “Are you ever worried that she’s going to get tired of you and leave you for someone else?”
“If you’re asking me if I’m worried about competition,” Newt says slowly, “I’d say, don’t think you even have a chance. She’s my girlfriend, you bloody shank, not some object you can steal away. Anyway, obviously I’d like it if she stayed with me a while longer, but I’m not scared, no. I know that we’re happy, and that’s enough.”
The boy’s face flushes scarlet when Newt calls him out, but he seems to have made his peace with it at the end. Newt’s half expecting more questions, but all of a sudden they scatter to the corners of the celebration. A few moments later, the cause of the disturbance becomes obvious: Y/N herself takes a seat next to him, glass in hand.
“It seems like you had a score of admirers,” she says, lips twitching up into a smile.
Newt groans. “More like your admirers, trust me. They wanted to ask about what it was like to date you. Not something I thought I’d be discussing with the Slicers-in-training, but why not?”
Y/N laughs. “Oh, I know. I have to say, though, it was very sweet. Being with me makes you feel like you can do anything?”
Newt feels his entire face heat up, and he briefly ponders launching himself into the fire to escape it. “I didn’t realize you were eavesdropping. That’s rude, you know.”
Y/N just grins. “I do apologize. It was very sweet, though. I appreciated it.”
Newt rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep a smile off of his face for long. “Does that mean you won’t leave me for some random boy who showed up a few months ago?”
“I’ll consider it,” she assures him, “like you said, though, I wouldn’t worry much. I happen to like being with you quite a bit as well.”
Newt reaches over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Y/N leans her head on his shoulder, and they stay there for quite some time, watching the embers of the fire curl into ribbons of smoke up in the darkest reaches of the sky. The bonfire dances, their friends shout and clap and laugh all around them, and through it, they keep going. All is well.
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Free Palestine
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EVERYONE READ THIS
|| pairing: dabi x gn!reader x hawks / touya todoroki x gn!reader x keigo takami
|| warnings: established relationship, sfw headcanons, i go between "dabi" and "touya" a lot, sorry :(
|| btw, dabi is in rehab cause i want him to be, also he ends up as a pro hero in the end
|| word count: 2.0k
|| You, Keigo and Dabi and been dating for a few months by now. Let's just say... Endeavor's not the happiest about it. Neither are your own parents. Is it cause they hate polyamorous people? No. Is it cause they're generally homophobic? No. It's cause Dabi's a damned criminal (your family) and that Hawks is annoying as hell (Endeavors reasoning).
|| Do any of ya'll listen? Hell no. Now onto the headcanons.
|| You, Dabi and Keigo have your own places. Dabi lives with Endeavor (unwillingly) as you live in your own smaller apartment as Keigo lives in his damned penthouse. It's safe to say, when the three of you hangout you stay at Keigo's place. It's bigger, he has nicer things, and no one else lives with him. Safe to say you and Dabi even have your own towels, some clothes and toothbrushes there. It's like you live there 2/3rds of the time. Only reason you don't move out is cause you guys only started dating a few months ago.
|| PDA? Non existant, at least with you and Dabi. Dabi generally doesn't like PDA, is it for shame reasons? No, he just doesn't like it. He'd rather keep his scary, mysterious facade up in public, and you just get embarrassed easily. The most you two do is a peck on the cheek or holding hands, that's it.
|| With Keigo or all three of you on the other hand, oh PDA is a must have. Keigo loves holding both of your guys' hands, whether he's alone with Dabi or if he's alone with you or if all three of you are out. He loves giving kisses, holding hands, holding your waists. Now if you or Dabi hold onto him, he's SWOONING.
|| Jealousy? Only at some scenarios. And it's only for petty things. Let's say all three of you are at Keigo's place, if one of you guys are only showing attention to one, oh jeez. Dabi makes a whole fuss, he pretends he doesn't even wanna be there. Says shit like "No, don't even touch me fuck you" then reaches out to cuddle both of you. If Keigo's feeling left out he'll puff his wings out and brush his feathers against you two. Sending them in a flurry and you find yourself in a pile of his feathers as you both give him small kisses. However you react is your own choice, but whatever you do they both end up kissing your face all over and you rest your head on Keigo's chest and hold Dabi's hands.
|| However, if we're talking there's someone hitting on one of you guys.. Oh it's interesting. If someone's hitting on Keigo, it made sense. He was a pro hero, number two at that, and absolutely GORGEOUS. You and Touya had a protocol for this. As Keigo would turn the person down, you'd snake your arm around his waist and rest your head on his shoulder as Touya wrapped his arms around Keigo's neck and rested his head on the other shoulder. Both of you having smug smiles. If Touya's the one getting hit on, oh boy. If Touya hadn't already scared the person off himself, again there was a protocol to this. Keigo would go over first, putting his head on Touya's shoulder while you held his hands and kissed his knuckles softly, safe to say the person was scared off. Lastly, if you were hit on... Touya might just kill the person /j nah nah, he reformed... Touya would wrap his arm around your shoulders as Keigo wrapped his arm around your waist. Both absolutely GLARING at the person hitting on you. Scary dog privilege. Touya's the more.. Jealous one in the three of you? Like, would definitely ask a bunch of questions to you and Keigo like "Who're you going out with?" "Where are you going?" "You better be back soon."
|| In the winter, oh you know you and Keigo take advantage of Dabi's quirk. He can warm up his body (at least in my mind) without actually setting on fire. So, after a long cold day on patrol for Keigo and a long day at work for you, you both snuggle up against Dabi, wrapping your limbs against his body, getting as much warmth as you can as Keigo drapes his wings across all of you. Is Dabi absolutely steaming and wishing you'd both get off him? Yeah, he's sweating balls, but you two just ignore it.
|| One of the best dates you all went on? When Mr. Billionaire Hero rented out the whole aquarium to have a date with you and Touya. The only people there being the workers, which was maybe 4 or 5 people at MOST. It was peaceful, you were geeking out over the smallest fish to the biggest shark, while Touya admired the water, it was also pretty chilly in the aquarium. Not to the point you had to have layers, but it was nice and cool, he appreciated it. Then there was Keigo, being head over heels for both you and Touya. He just kept his eyes on both of you, of course he was listening to whatever you were rambling about but.. What can he say? His partners were just to pretty not to stare at.
|| Arguments? You three have had arguments before. Of course, all of them ended in hugs, kisses, apologies and make up dates, but there were a lot of times that you and Touya went to sleep with just each other in Keigo's apartment because he was working. Another argument starter was that there were a lot of times where you and Keigo had to deal with Touya's pissy mood without him telling you guys what's wrong, or deal with him ghosting you both because he's shit at communication. Biggest problem with Keigo was that he was to much of a workaholic and would bail on date nights or sleepovers because he was to busy. Biggest problem with Touya was that he was terrible with communication, he'd never say his problems because he saw it as weakness. You three get through it, of course, but it took a lot of work.
|| Who cooks? You. Keigo and Touya can't cook for shit. If you can't cook either, you're all fucked. Keigo can't cook because the commission never taught him to, and Touya was never taught either, his mom always cooked or he stole something after his "death." One time you came over to Keigo's penthouse to have a date night with the two of them, just staying in though, but what did you find? The fire alarm going off, black smoke all around the halls, and screaming. You thought they started to fight like villain and hero again, but nope. They were trying to cook. Touya tried to cook the stuff on his body because "it'd be faster" and "we wouldn't have to use electricity" and dumbass Keigo agreed to it. You helped clean up the mess and just decided to order in. That was the last time you'd ever let them try to cook.
|| Gifts? Keigo buys the most gifts for you and Touya. He's the richest, so it made sense. A lot of gifts Touya gave were home made shit or something he stole. You found it endearing, Keigo found it terrible and made him give it back. He is NOT losing one of his partners for stealing a 15$ plushie. Keigo's gifts were extravagant, of course. He'd buy you and Touya the most expensive jewelry, especially piercing jewelry for Touya since he knows he has like over 10 piercings. Keigo HAS planned a surprise vacation trip to some sort of private island for the three of you to have a weekend to relax. It was welcomed with open arms, it was just... A lot. You two didn't complain though. Your pretty boy boyfriend pampering both of you? Oh fuck yes.
|| How you get along with their friends? You get along with Keigo's friends pretty well! His friends being Mirko, Tokoyami and Endeavor... He's not as social as he seems. You and Mirko HAVE hungout together before, she's really funny and a little loud but she's fun to be around. You've met Tokoyami on multiple occasions and Keigo acts as if he's his big brother/uncle. It's so funny. Tokoyami's not the biggest fan of Touya but he's warmed up to him. Baby steps, baby steps. (They've shit talked, lovingly, about Keigo before.)... You don't like Endeavor. He's big, he's scary, and he always seems grumpy and after hearing Touya's past, you're so confused how Keigo could still hang around him normally. I mean, Touya lived with him.. And he seemed to be getting better and making up for what happened. But still.
|| With Touya's friends, aka The League of Villains.. You were scared when you first met them. Safe to say you're closest with Compress since he seemed the most chill. Toga did say she wanted to stab you, which was fun. Touya explained that's just her way of saying she liked you, and you were like "cool okay, still gonna stay away from her." You have talked to Spinner before, he was chill, surprisingly. Talking to Shigaraki was... A lot. You were scared to even be 5 feet next to him. Twice was very fun to be around! You liked Twice a lot and he seemed to like you... And for continuity sake let's say this is like.. After the Overhaul shit. So none of them were pissed at Keigo, thankfully. Honestly, Keigo's chill with everyone of the League members, a little less with Shigaraki, but it's whatever. He's closest with Twice. (kill me)
|| Do you guys ever move in together? Yes! You do. At least around a year or a year and a half of dating. You and Touya move into Keigo's big ass penthouse for obvious reasons. It was an easy "yeah sure" on all of your parts. It was already like you all lived together there since you and Touya had stuff in his apartment, so it was like extremely easy to move in and adjust.
|| Pet names? Yeah, you guys have pet names for each other. You call Keigo and Touya; "Babe" "Dear" "Love" or just their names shortened to like "Kei" or "To." You have tried calling Touya "Toto" and Keigo laughed at that so hard, calling him the dog from Wizard of Oz. Keigo would call you and Touya the stupidest shit EVER. Stuff like bird-like nicknames as a joke a lot, then it stuck. But actual pet names he'd call you guys "Dove" "Love" "Sweetness" "Sweets" or shortened versions of your guys' names. Has called Touya "Toto" after you did and finds it equally as hilarious. Lastly Touya, he doesn't do much pet names, honestly he finds them cringe. But the ones he actually does is "Doll" "Sweetheart" "Babe" and those are the ONLY ones. Anything more he's like that's bullshit. But what's weird about Touya is that he barely calls you and Keigo your actual names, or even shortened versions of your names, always those pet names. You two don't complain.
|| Media? Keigo makes sure to show both you and Touya off as much as he can. Touya's already a pretty (in)famous person so he didn't care, plus it's not like he did much. Especially if it was during his rehab. After rehab he ended up working as an underground hero since that was the only thing he really saw himself doing. There is no way he'd be some normal citizen who couldn't use his quirk everyday, like no. Through the Hero Safety Commission, he was shown off as a "second chance." For the public to believe in redemption and seeing the best in people. Keigo didn't exactly like that the Commission was using Touya like this, but Touya literally gave zero shits, so it was whatever. So now, you have two pro hero boyfriends. If you worked remotely or at home, you were more than okay with being in the media, but if your job was more open to the public you'd try your best not to be apart of the media. If you for some reason were already a famous or public figure, you were a-okay with having your relationship public.
|| You all have matching profiles on all your socials. You three are the cringey ass throuple that everyone envies or hates.
|| All in all, your relationship is wonderful! You love your boys and your boys love you!
|| oml i love dabihawks x reader
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Unfortunately I can’t share due to my financial situation, but I can share
FINALLY, A NEWT X MALE READER HUZZAH HUZZAH
howdy! i recently stumbled upon your account and saw that your requests were open. i have a small request for a newt x m!reader one-shot. feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like you're up for it 👍
maybe one where the reader has longer hair, and is a runner, as the weather's gotten warmer it's starting to become more of a chore when it comes to maintaining it so he asks newt to help him cut it? it can be as silly or goofy as you want, platonic or romantic is up to you.
i hope you're having a great day and enjoying the fall weather
-🦇
❝ IF THE HAIRCUT FITS ❞
Thank you so much for the request, Bat. So sorry it took so long to finish, and I kind of ran away with this one, but I hope you enjoy!
SYNOPSIS ➢ As summer started to creep into the Glade, the sun’s rays had been hitting you much harder than usual; your hair, especially, have been more of a nuisance. Your solution? Get one of your closest friends to cut it for you. But losing the weight of your hair made you want to get rid of some weight off your chest, as well.
PAIRING ➢ newt x male reader
CONTENT WARNING ➢ friends to lovers, kissing, touching, banter, light insults sexual innuendoes, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, mentions of eating, mentions of drinking, slight violence (a slap), mentions of body, no use of y/n
WORD COUNT ➢ 7.3 k
AUTHORS NOTE ➢ I like to keep any image of the reader’s body out of my writing, but in this he’s implied to be well built, but not explicitly mentioned. The hair may also be more of a non-black standard, since I’m not sure exactly how black hair behaves in this situation, but I tried to keep it as vague as possible. I’m sure there are also a lot of inaccuracies in this concerning the Glade, such as the weather and the sun and the lake, but for the sake of this fic it works like I say it does — I am the author and therefore, God.
The air had gotten warmer recently. You’d noticed it only a few days ago, when your breath hadn’t exhaled in a cloud of white smoke and your neck had started to sweat after a full day of running in the Maze. The weather didn’t exactly respond to how the seasons—that on some level your subconscious knew existed—worked, but it changed all the same. It had only gotten warmer, and quickly, too. With the sun bearing down on from overhead, the air was chokingly warm, your skin practically dripping with sweat and the ends of your hair clinging to your neck. It had grown long during the past few months and while it was a comfort in the colder weather, strands of it now hung uncomfortably in your eyes despite your best attempts to pull it back into a knot.
Minho walked just in front of you through the gates of the Maze and entered the green forestry of the Glade. The walls closed right behind you and in spite of the late hour of the day the sun still shone bright in the sky. He was just as eager to take cover from it under the cool shade of the Glade’s woods as to throw himself into the equally cool lake. You ran up beside him, patting him on the shoulder.
“This weather,” he grunted, wiping the palms of his hands on his trousers. They left tracks of sweat. “I swear it’s got something against us.”
“Yeah,” you agreed with a sigh. You peeled your drenched shirt from your skin, pulling it over your head in an attempt to ease some of the warmth. It didn’t made much of a difference.
Minho threw you a sideway glance as you walked across the green fields. “Eager to show your body off?”
You threw your head back in a bark, sidestepping so you would walk backwards to face him. Your hands spread as your head tilted with conviction.
“You’d want to show off your body too if it looked like this,” you said. Minho couldn’t help but smile at your comment, shaking his head in exasperation. You turned around to walk beside him normally again.
As the two of you made your way to the lake, you passed the gardens and its track-hoes, Newt being one among them. Despite the fact that he was second in command, he liked the calming repetitiveness of caring for vegetables and flowers. He’d told you one late night when you’d found him sitting by himself, staring up at the night sky, and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Now, his eyes met yours in an instant, as if he’d known exactly where you were. As if he’d been watching you for some while, and waiting for you to notice. Your stomach flipped at his unashamed staring, nervous under the gaze, as your mind drew a blank. Quickly, you rearranged your mouth into a smirk, to which he shook his head out of his stunned stupor and continued with his task, but you could tell his mind wasn’t present as his eyes kept jumping back and forth.
Minho saw your smug smile and hit you across the chest, hard enough to cause you to stumble. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Newt cover his mouth from something that looked like a chuckle and you glared back at Minho’s now-smug smile. He just tilted his head and kept walking to the cover of the trees.
“You can flirt with Newt later,” he said. “Let’s go wash off.”
“I wasn’t flirting with anyone! Let alone Newt.”
“Whatever, man.”
You grumbled something unintelligible, which he ignored, as you walked together to the lake on the other side of the Glade. It was a rather long walk, but the time in the trees’ shade cooled you down nicely. Reaching the lake, the water was darkening with the passing of the sun, seeming almost more ominous now than inviting. You found a few other Gladers there already, some of them laying by the bank with their shirts discarded and the rest of them submerged in the water. Minho wasted no time removing his shirt and running into the dark water. You discarded your earlier thoughts and quickly followed suit, pulling your hair from its knot and jumping into the lake with a splash that earned you an ugly glare from a Glader nearby. Minho shared the glare and slapped the water hard, sending it flying in your direction.
“Shankhead,” he muttered.
You only laughed and leant backwards, fully submerging your body under the dark water. Your muscles relaxed and let the water carry you out further in the lake, effectively cooling you down. This was exactly what you needed after a warm and exhausting day; your head under the water, your hair spread around you like the halo of some angel—if an angel could be trapped in a maze. The cold water felt like a blanket across your mind, quieting your thoughts down to a tenth of their usual volume. There were few things that could calm you like this.
The peace didn’t last long, though, as Minho’s hand suddenly closed over your arm and dragged you above surface.
“What?” you spit at him.
He cocked his head to the end of the lake and when you turned your head you saw Newt’s figure walking closer, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. You immediately tried to stand up, but forgot you were too far out, and instead of touching the sand you sunk deeper in the water with a splutter. Again, you broke the surface with a gasp and a flail of your arms, struggling to wipe your hair out of your eyes. Minho was unsurprisingly unhelpful, barking out his laugh at your unfortunate. You glared at him and swam to the bank where Newt stood waiting. It was only then that you noticed a lot of the other boys were gone or also on their way from the lake.
“Smooth,” Newt commented when you reached him.
“Shut up.”
He nodded his head to the woods behind him. “Dinnertime’s soon. Reckoned I’d go get you.”
“I am honoured your lordship would bother thinking of little ol’ me,” you smiled. He only rolled his eyes.
Your steps brought you up further, the water splashing around your knees. Newt’s arms were crossed over his chest as he leant on one foot, waiting for you to reach him. You noticed that he adamantly kept his eyes fixated on a spot just above your head, refusing to glance at any part of your body that was currently on display. A part of you sparked with amusement. Minho stepped out just behind you and went over to retrieve your clothes, throwing your shirt and boots at you.
“Thanks,” you bit at him, just barely avoiding one hitting your head.
He flashed you with a smug smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, immediately causing wet spots to bloom wherever it touched his skin directly. “My pleasure,” he said and started walking back to the huts, through the now-dark forest.
The sun had settled quickly and long shadows now stretched before you as you turned to walk into the forest. Newt followed suit, staring at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Not going to put on your shirt?” he asked.
You turned your head to catch Newt’s gaze sweeping across your figure. It filled you with a strange satisfaction to see him checking you out. When he noticed that you’d caught him, he immediately looked away, his posture suddenly stiff. His cheeks were definitely redder than they had been before, although it was difficult to tell in the darkening light. Your lips tugged into something resembling a smile.
“Why? Does it bother you?”
Newt scoffed and met your gaze defiantly underneath his golden fringe. “No. I just don’t want your stupid arse to get sick.”
Your smile widened. “Oh, really? Do you happen to care for me, Newt?”
“I am not admitting that,” he said and rolled his eyes. His tone was suspiciously even, as if it took everything in him not to check you out again. “I’m only saying it’d be be more trouble than you’re worth to get you healthy again.”
His brown eyes met yours, obstructed with a few strands. You had the urge to reach out and pull them away, to see his eyes more clearly, but instead you sent him a simple smile and nudged him lightly with your elbow. “Okay, you have your priorities clear,” you said.
“Just go get ready, won’t you?” His glare was enough to send shivers down your spine and his hands started to turn your body in the direction of the huts, now already having reached the end of the woods. “See what I told you? You’re already getting cold!”
“Fine,” you drawled with your hands up in defence, looking at him over your shoulder. “I’ll see you at the bonfire.”
He lifted his hand in half a wave and swiftly turned away from you, walking to where the others had begun to gather by the fire. Sometimes you forgot he had hurt his leg—it had happened before you arrived in the Glade—but looking at him now his limp was evident in his step. You lingered a moment longer to watch his hair glow in the contrast from the fire, vaguely resembling the sun in an eclipse. You found the view almost poetic, entrancing you in its picturesque aestheticism. It reminded you of Icarus flying too close to the sun, you standing by, helpless to aid him in his downfall, inevitably and irrevocably fated to meet his doom. You weren’t sure where the thought or the name had come from, but ancient knowledge seemed to lord over you in a cloud of mystery.
“Go!” called Newt suddenly over his shoulder. He met your eye with a quirk of his brow and for a second his eyes seemed to draw you into the depths of his soul, but then you blinked and the feeling was gone.
“Going!” you jumped out of your daze to call back and quickly turned to make your way to the huts. How he had known you’d stayed put you didn’t know, but didn’t question further. You rushed to your cot to grab a change of clean clothes and a towel to dry off with, even though most of the water had already dried and cooled your skin with the night’s chill. Still, your hair hung heavy with water, wetting the new shirt you put on. You groaned as you tried to wipe it with the towel, but to no avail. The only downsides to having long hair was it took forever to dry. It would have to warm by the fire.
You changed into the warm pair of trousers and put on your boots. Still, your damp hair felt cold against your skin, which would have been nice if the temperature didn’t drop so suddenly as soon as the sun was gone. You hurried to the fire, the air enveloping you into its warm grasp, eyes already searching for the familiar blonde boy. A lot of the Gladers were milling about, eating the good food Frypan had cooked up or drinking some of the incredibly strong spirit you knew Newt fancied. Someone was laughing loudly nearby but you ignored it in favour of searching for the quiet spot you knew you would find him by. When your eyes settled on him, sitting on a log with a drink in his hand and a plate on his knee, your hand reflexively made its way to pull back your bangs from your eyes. Warmth settled in your stomach that was equally familiar.
“Don’t worry, you look good,” came Minho’s voice beside you. You shot him a glare and removed your fingers from your hair, still itching to pull it away. “Not that your ego needs the boost.”
“Not what I was concerned with,” you said. You swallowed. “But thanks.”
Minho grinned. Your lips lifted into an answering grin and Minho nudged you towards the fire. “Go get ‘em.”
You frowned at him, pretending not to understand what he meant, before shaking your head and walking towards where Newt was sitting. His gaze lifted as you approached and you felt your stomach flipping, not uncomfortably.
“So, he can wear a shirt? Was starting to believe you weren’t capable of it,” said Newt, lowering his drink from his lips.
“Yeah,” you answered with a sheepish grin.
You sat down next to him on the log and reached over to nick a few pieces of his fruit. Newt immediately leant away, lifting the plate away from your reach.
“Woah--oi, hey! Don’t take my food! Get your bloody own from Frypan,” he grumbled, settling you with a glare. You recognised the glint in his eye though, the one that told you he wasn’t entirely serious. His eyes shone in the firelight, softening the longer you stayed quiet, and his lips even started to turn up. At the sight of it, yours did as well. He always knew how to bring out your mischievous side.
“Your food tastes much better.”
“It’s exactly the same.”
You shook your head. “No, by its mere proximity to you, the food is better.”
Newt rolled his eyes and placed his plate back on his knee, where your hand quickly snatched away the remainder of his fruit. He only sighed and took a long sip from his drink, pretending to ignore your staring at him. Finally, he lowered his glass and met your gaze with a sigh.
“What?” asked Newt, tone as flat as he could manage to make it in your presence.
Your lips tugged into a smile. “Nothing,” you said and glanced away.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Newt swiftly turn to you before you felt a nudge against your side, almost pushing you off balance. You cried out and reached towards him to stabilise yourself, sending him the harshest glare you could muster in spite of the laughter that was waiting in your throat. He met it with a glare of his own while ignoring your hands on his arm and shoulder, which suddenly felt too hot to the touch. Blood rushed to your cheeks.
“Nothing,” you repeated, avoiding his gaze. You were forced to let go of him with a clearing of your throat, conscious of your cold hands. You became too aware of your hair brushing your cheek, annoyingly tickling your skin. Before you could move, Newt’s hand had reached out to brush it away. Your breath hitched in your throat and you were unable to rip your eyes away from his.
“Sorry,” he said bashfully and withdrew it, curling it into an uncertain fist.
You smiled. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s getting too long,” you mumbled, your hands moving as if with a mind of their own to fiddle with the longer strands of your hair.
“I could help you, you know?” spoke Newt, drawing your gaze to him. He seemed not to have noticed your flustered state or he chose to ignore it. You hoped it was the former.
You frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
His voice broke as he opened his mouth to speak, but he cleared his throat and nodded to your head.“I could help cut your hair.”
“Really?” you asked, surprise evident in your voice. You supposed cutting weeds while gardening got him familiar around shears.
“I mean, yeah, sure,” said Newt. “Reckon I’d do a better job than anything you’d manage, anyway.”
Your head whipped to the side, mouth open in indignation. “That’s foul!”
His lips tugged into a grin and he lifted an eyebrow with the argument. “Am I wrong?” Your eyes swept over his own hair, which you assumed he’d cut himself, and pursed your lips in contemplation. It looked good. He looked good. Especially in that light, when the fire casted a golden aura that settled around his head like a halo. It effortlessly managed to draw your attention to every shift in his movement.
“No,” you finally grumbled, again tugging at a strand.
His hand reached out to tuck the stray strand of your hair away, and in doing so pushed away your own. The short moment of contact made your breath stutter and come out in a short burst. Newt met your gaze with a smile. It felt different than before, none of his usual amusement visible in his gaze. Instead, there now hung a heavy silence over the both of you, despite the loud chatter and laughter of those who had gathered by the fire. You were so close to him that you could count the lashes on his eyes. His gaze, which usually swirled with the pain and frustration that served as a reminder that Newt was capable of more than he let on, was now void of that. There was only curiosity and something softer that you couldn’t describe to be found. Newt must have felt your breath on his hand by now were it not for you holding it in anticipation. As if suddenly realising it, he blinked and leant away from you, his hand falling down at your side. Your breathing returned to normal as you tried to keep the warmth rushing to your cheeks at bay, trying in vain to ignore how close you two had just been. It was too dark for you to see if he was feeling the same way, or he was just too good at hiding it, but it didn’t keep you from scrutinising his face for any clues.
“Take a sick day tomorrow, meet me by the gardens,” he said after a few minutes of silently staring into the fire. His voice was level, as if he hadn’t been caressing your cheek only moments before.
You tried to match his nonchalance and arched an eyebrow. “Minho will murder me.”
Newt cocked his head. “Let that be on my head.”
“Fine,” you said and stood up with a groan, feeling the stretch of your muscles from the day’s run. Newt followed your movement, meeting your eye as you pointed an accusing finger at him. “On your head, be it.”
Newt nodded, sending a smirk your way. You stepped away from him and made your way to Frypan. As you grabbed a few sandwiches, Gally sneaked up by your side, swiping one of the sandwiches in your hand.
“Got tired of flirting, huh?” he chuckled.
You glared at him and bit into your sandwich. “Shut up.”
He smirked smugly. “It’s plain as day, Greeny.”
“You’re worse than Minho,” you grumbled. Your finger lifted to point in his direction. “And stop calling me that, I haven’t been Greeny for a year.”
His mocking laughter followed you as you walked away from the fire towards the huts, shaking your head. A few Gladers had followed your trail of thought, also deigning to go to bed early. You fell into your sleeping cot with your feet kicked up and a deep sigh escaping your lips. Your mind couldn’t keep from trailing back to the sight of Newt by the fire, his brown eyes shining along with his smug smirk. A groan fought through your throat as you rubbed your eyes in frustration.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like Newt. On the contrary, you liked him a lot. He was kind and funny and witty and smart and always knew how to both make you laugh and trample on your nerves to get you furious with him. But you didn’t fancy him, no matter how much Minho and Gally liked to imply it. He just had a special way to worm his way into your thoughts and then burrow there. For days after an interaction, you would think of how he looked at you a certain way or how he would accidentally touch you while brushing past.
It drove you insane, how easily Newt could get inside your mind.
And how easily he could stir up the warmth inside your stomach and make it rush to your cheeks with only a simple gesture. You had found yourself trying to hide your cheeks when around him too often lately and you were sure he had noticed, but only given you the curtesy of not commenting on it.
“Fuck,” you groaned again and turned over in your cot, your hair prickling your skin with reminder of what tomorrow would bring.
It was difficult to distract your mind from Newt long enough to settle down. Eventually, you managed to fall into a restless sleep, filled with the muddled dreams of red sunlight bouncing off of bluish marble, almost creating the illusion of moving water. You saw the reflection of your form against the stone below you but before you had the chance to take it all in, a hand had clasped your own and another drawn you in by your waist. When you looked up, it was the face of none other than the person you had previously been trying to forget, although you could not fathom why at that moment. Newt. His warm smile calmed you down and you allowed him to lead you into the first steps of a waltz. How you had learnt it you didn’t question, but just followed his captivating eyes and trusted him to catch you if you fell. Those same eyes were gazing into yours, big and brown and with the same curiosity that had gazed on you earlier that day. Only now, you allowed yourself to get lost in the sight of them, to be entranced by their deep swirling darkness. Right when Newt had stretched his arm out and sent you into a light spin, and his hand was ready to welcome you back into his embrace, had his expression changed from one of bliss to one of chock and disgust. You halted, frowning at his actions, before following his line of sight and reaching a hand up to the top of your head. To your horror, all your hair had suddenly vanished. Panic rose through you, clawing blindly at your empty head, wanting to escape from this, from everything, from Newt’s hateful glance. You took a step and tried another but caught the only small imperfection in the marble that caused you to stumble, falling down, down, and down… waiting for the ground to hit you.
What came instead was a slap on your chin, harsh enough to force you awake.
“Ngh— fuck,” you croaked, blinking drowsily. Your vision cleared up as you squinted at your assailant, recognising the judging stare immediately. “Come on, man.”
The sun had barely come up again over the tall walls guarding the Glade when Minho had deigned to make you a visit. That time was usually when you would get ready for your run in the Maze. Apparently, Newt had not said anything to Minho which made you let out a deep groan. Minho was staring down at your messy form, his arms crossed over his chest with a harsh stare pinning you to your place. He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow.
“Anyone tell you you’re an ugly sleeper?” he asked, a sickly sweet smile on his lips.
“No, I’m adorable,” you stated, trying to sit up as best as you could. “I’m taking a day off. I’m sick.” You punctuated your words with the best fake cough you could muster.
Minho looked unconvinced. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am,” you countered. When he raised an eyebrow you sighed in defeat. “Okay, I’m not sick. But I’m still taking a day off. If you want to argue, take it up with Newt. He’s got senior on you. And we both know you won’t miss me today.”
Minho’s breath released in a sharp burst as he contemplated your words. Finally, he let his arms fall to his side. “Fine,” he said, but raised a finger to point at you. “But you better have a damn good reason as to why you’re staying here today.”
You shot him a smile. “A damn good reason.”
He rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. “I will miss you, by the way,” he called over his shoulder. Then, he added, with a smug smirk, “Sweetheart.”
It was then your turn to roll your eyes as a bark of laughter forced itself out your throat. You rubbed your face from sleep, trying to get rid of your sluggishness. As you were already awake, you figured you could just as well get up to meet Newt a little earlier. It wouldn’t be long until the rest of the Gladers woke up, anyway.
Minho and the rest of the Runners were already by the Maze’s walls. You could see their figures in the distance as the gates started to open with a loud rumble, one that you could feel shaking the earth beneath your feet. You shook your head and stretched your limbs, feeling them pop and crack individually. Minho liked to be up and early with his runs, but you were glad to get a day off to rest. You turned to your things, changing into a clean pair of clothes and put your hair up, mostly out of autonomy. Last time you would do that for a while, you figured.
Newt’s cot was among one of the empty ones, so you assumed he would have already gone to Frypan’s station to get breakfast. You made your way over there, spotting his slumped figure immediately. He jumped when you dropped down beside him, nicking an apple from his plate.
“Could you maybe get your own food for once?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow. You smiled through your amusement, slowly chewing on the fruit. You swallowed with an exaggerated motion, sending him a sickly sweet smile.
“No,” you said. He rolled his eyes while taking a mouthful of his scrambled eggs, ignoring your presence in the process.
“Remind me again why I needed to take the whole day?” you asked. “Hopefully, Minho won’t feel as murder-y when he gets back later as how he felt this morning.”
You saw the corner of his lip lift into what you imagined to be a smile. Smug bastard.
“My art takes time,” he eventually answered, turning to you. “I want it to look good.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I already look good.”
“And I want you to stay that way.” Newt shot a meaningful glance at the other Gladers, which had you wincing. Some of them could benefit from a more skilful haircut, you must admit.
“Fine.”
“Besides,” he said, “it’s easier when the sun is at its highest. Less chance for me to fuck it up then.”
Newt smiled at you, but his words indicated an underlying threat, one that had you smiling back in amusement. He really loved pushing your buttons. It didn’t help that you actually were concerned about your hair being fucked up—not that you would consider yourself a vain person, but you knew how much someone’s looks could be diminished because of a bad haircut. And your thoughts ran to the dream you’d had; was it a nightmare or a premonition?
You scratched your neck, conscious of the hair touching your skin. “You know what? I’m actually not so certain about this.”
Newt sighed and pinned his gaze on you. “I see you swatting your hair away all the time,” he said, exasperation shining through annoyance. “It’s clearly annoying you.”
His words made something in you flip. “Are you saying that you notice me all the time, then?” you asked with a smug smile, unable to keep your amusement at bay for long.
He ignored your question. “I’m not going to fuck it up, mate.” When you sent him a sceptical glare he sighed again, and asked, “What are you so afraid of? Don’t you trust my skills?”
Your lips tugged in earnest for a moment, before again settling into their smug familiarity. “I guess I’m just scared you’ll find me less attractive if I cut my hair.” You blinked through your eyelashes, meeting Newt’s incredulous gaze. “I mean, what if the whole reason you like me is because of my handsome hair?”
“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed, turning to look down at his plate.
“So you admit you do find me attractive?” you chuckled.
“Never said that.”
Your lips pressed into a line, wondering if you had crossed the line that time. It took a moment to decide before opening your mouth again. “Will you still help me?”
“Of course,” he smiled at you, winking playfully. The gesture made butterflies immediately appear in your stomach and you had to look away lest he see the smile gracing your lips. He stood up from his seat, leaving the rest of his breakfast untouched, and nudged your side. “C’mon, let’s get going.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. Or would you rather we wait until I get tired and the light is bad for me to slip with my shears?”
He had a point, damn him. “Fine,” you admitted, following suit and going outside with him. The sun blinded the both of you, already high in the sky. It felt strange for it to be this bright out and not being in the maze running.
Newt started walking toward the garden so you followed point, close at his heel. He picked up a pair of dirty looking shears, turning to flash you a grin. You looked at them skeptically, which he must have noticed.
“Look, they’ll get the job done, alright?”
Your eyebrow cocked. “You sure? Looks like they haven’t worked since ten years ago.”
Newt laughed dryly and nudged past you, walking the way to the woods.
“Hey, where are you going?” you asked.
“The lake. Need to get your hair wet,” he called over his shoulder.
Hmm. Sounded reasonable. You ran to keep up with him and joined him by the lake you had been swimming in the day before. The water looked even more inviting now, with the sun glittering across its surface instead of the afternoon’s deep shadows. Newt, none too gently, shoved you in the direction of it, sitting himself down by the bank.
You flashed a smile to him. “That eager to see me shirtless again?”
He rolled his eyes and reached for the water to splash it up at you. You yelped and jumped out of reach, giving him a stare full of contempt. “Just dump your ‘ead in the water, you knob.”
“Since you asked so kindly.”
You lowered your body closer to the bank, only letting your head submerge under the water. It felt cold, but not uncomfortably so. You felt a tap against your shoulder, Newt, and sprang up into sitting position. Water dripped from your hair, drenching your shirt and face. When you turned to Newt, your smile was crooked.
“Great,” he said, moving to sit behind you, shears in his hands. “Now all you have to do is keep still. Think you can do that?”
“Anything for you, Newt.”
You sighed happily and leant back, letting the sun cast its warm rays over you. You didn’t notice the moment Newt hesitated after your words, before he started drawing his fingers through your hair. All you knew was that suddenly his touch was there and it felt heavenly. You knew he only did it to measure your hair to cut it, but every time his fingers brushed against your scalp shivers erupted across your spine. You almost had the mind to close your eyes and fall asleep right then and there, with Newt almost caressing you. You imagined those same fingers running down from your head, touching the skin over your neck, brushing past your abdomen and squeezing your thighs. Even the thought of it made your breath hitch and you kept still to keep him from noticing anything amiss. Slowly and carefully, he worked, cutting methodically. You cracked an eye open, trying to glance at him from the corner of it.
“How’s it going, Newt?” you asked.
He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled lightly, and said, “Don’t rush me.”
It was enough to make warmth travel to your cheeks and your abdomen, so you kept quiet after that and let him do his work in peace. His fingers danced closer to your skin then, trying to get to the nape of your neck and it took all your willpower not to shy away from him. Slowly, you relaxed into his hold again, numbed by the featherlight touches and breaths of air fanning over your skin when he sat too close.
And suddenly, it was all over. With one final brush of his hand, his fingers running through your hair thoroughly, he cleared his throat and moved away.
“All done,” said Newt, though it was almost a whisper.
You opened your eyes to the sight of him sitting on his folded knees and his fingers fidgeting with the shears, looking almost as if it took all his power to concentrate on his breathing. You smiled, raising an eyebrow, and ran your own hand through your hair. It felt lighter, and smooth, and you hadn’t realised how much of a relief it was to be gone with the length.
“How do I look?” you asked, meeting his eye.
“Good.”
“Better than before?”
Newt shrugged and stood up. “Good, like always.”
Your lips quirked into a mischievous smile. “You think I’m good looking?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffed, but you could definitely see a redness spreading across his cheeks. He tried to turn away but you were quicker, bounding closer to him and shaking away the cutaway strands in the same movement. It was fun teasing him.
“You’re the one who said it!” you exclaimed.
“Oi, stop being difficult,” he settled his glare on you.
“I’m not.”
He shot you a look, one that told you he was trying to stay annoyed but secretly enjoying your antics. “You are,” he said while turning in the way to the rest of the Glade, shears hanging loosely from his grip.
You ripped your gaze from his long fingers, the image of them making your mind return to how you had wanted him to touch you earlier, and instead ran to keep up with his steps. You could sense the smile hiding in the corner of his lip, almost like a sixth sense, determined to bring it out. So, eyebrows lifted in a suggestive expression, you saddled closer to his side and said, “But you like a challenge, right—so why are you complaining?”
The gaze Newt responded with could only be described as filled with disbelief, and something else—something mischievous. “So now you’re a challenge, hm?” he asked, his eyebrows disappearing behind the ruffles of his hair.
You frowned and tilted your head at him. “Hey! Are you calling me easy?”
“Well, if the haircut fits…” he trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence up to your active imagination.
“Now that’s just plain rude,” you muttered, lowering your gaze to the ground to avoid any missteps in the uncertain terrain of the Glade’s woods.
“I’m so very sorry, mate,” said Newt, without much conviction. You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic tone and noticed the flashing smile that was then all too visible on his face. “How can I make it up to you?”
“You can start by not calling me ‘mate’,” you retorted, not thinking through your words except to win this ‘argument’.
Newt glanced at you. “And what would you rather me call you?”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze, while all too aware of what he was trying to get you to admit. But you were comfortable with the dance you and him were engaged in. It had been going on for so long that you had forgotten how to not do it with him. It was easier to keep dancing with him, to keep the illusion of a ballroom couple perfect rather than to quiet the orchestra and run from your Prince Charming. Newt seemed to sense where your thoughts had run to, as he tried to meet your gaze.
“You sure about that?” he asked sceptically.
“Er, yeah?”
Newt was way too good at reading you and would not believe any excuses you tried to make, however convincing they may be. You both despised and admired him for it. He stopped you in your tracks with a hand across your midriff; the feel of his fingers pressing against your skin, even through the shirt, made shivers travel down your spine. The hand quickly retreated as he tried searching your eyes.
“I—,” he started, voice unsteady. He cleared his throat to regain his composure as you waited for him, arms crossed, trying to keep up the charade any way you could. “I think you’d rather me call you ‘good looking’. Or ‘handsome’. Or ‘pretty’. Or what about ‘love’, hm?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth traveling up your neck to rush to your cheeks. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” he said, an eyebrow raised from the very obvious tremor in your voice.
“Are you teasing me, Newt?” you asked incredulously.
Newt flashed you a smug smile and shrugged, looking away bashfully. “Got to be my turn to do it sometime,” he said.
You were used to you teasing him and poking fun, but he always took it in stride and seldom flirted back—which was what this had somehow turned into. If you’d known you two would end up flirting because of him cutting your hair you never would have agreed to his help—or maybe you still would have. Either way, there was no escaping it now. Fuck it, you thought. A frustrated groan seethed through your pressed lips as you threw your hands up in exasperation.
“You know what? Fine,” you said, meeting Newt’s gaze defiantly. “Yes, I’d like to be called all of those things. And I would like to call you all of those things.” You paused to then search Newt’s gaze, but he just stared at you in stunned silence and made no attempt to answer, so you kept going, albeit slightly more hesitant. “I—I want to hold you, to touch you, embrace you in the way that simple friends shouldn’t do. I’d like to whisper into your ear at night how much you brighten my days and make this shucking life worth living. Most of all, I would like to call you mine.”
You paused again to inhale deeply, your breathing shallow after your rant. It had driven your emotions to the surface so well you might as well have been wearing your feelings on your sleeve, ready to hand out romantic professions for anyone bothering to glance your way.
You hadn’t noticed how warm your cheeks had suddenly gotten, and made to move away while muttering, “There—I’ve said it. Let’s just go.”
“Wait—no—” Newt shouted, throwing out his arm to grab your wrist.
He pulled you back into him, making you lose balance, and a moment later his lips had closed over yours. The surprised gasp that had escaped your lips was quieted by his kiss and you quickly melted into his embrace. Immediately, his fingers closed over your nape, taking hold of your now-short hair and drawing you even closer. You could feel him pressing himself closer in whatever way he could manage, one hand tugging at your hair and the other clawing at your waist. Each individual touch sent sparks of warmth and cold over your skin as your hands closed over his jaw and throat. Even your imagination couldn’t have predicted how he would feel, how his body would fit against yours and make you want to never breathe again if it meant you could stay with him, like this, forever.
Finally, you had to pull away to suck in a deep breath of air, Newt trailing after and barely letting you go. You couldn’t fight the chuckle that forced its way out nor the grin that spread over your lips. Neither could he, as you saw his blushing face break out in a beam and his eyes jumping all over your face. It made you painfully aware of yourself and you bowed your head to settle against the crook of his neck, bashful in spite of your close contact. His hands were still holding onto your waist and kept your body pressed against him.
“Don’t get shy now,” he chided, though his tone was light and his fingers were rubbing slow circles across your back.
Despite the warm sun that glared over the pair of you, his gesture made a shiver crawl up your spine and you pulled away to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “Really, you’re calling me shy?” He nodded to your question. “I’m shy when you’re here— Have you completely forgotten who’s always bold and teases and openly flirts with you?”
Newt scoffed, drawing his hands over the small of your back. “Well, maybe I stole your boldness when I kissed you.”
You almost couldn’t believe him. His cheeks were already flushed, but burned even brighter when your hand pressed against his neck to pull him in again, forcefully pressing your lips against his and claiming his tongue as yours. In doing so, you swallowed his surprised gasp with your kiss, but he didn’t manage to suppress the moan when you took his bottom lip between your teeth and bit lightly. It made you smile smugly, pulling away immediately to look upon his bright red face and dazed expression.
“Who’s shy now, hm?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping out of his hold.
Newt shot you an angry glance, but it was difficult to take him seriously when he was also blushing furiously. He decided to leave it at that and with not much dignity, pick up the shears he had dropped and started walking back towards the huts. Again, you had to run after him with laughter playing on your lips. You could tell he wasn’t really annoyed, but it was easy to slip back in the comfortable dance of your relationship.
You wouldn’t let him pretend like all of this had not happened, though. He looked at you in surprise when your hand sought out his own, fingers intertwining and closing over his. You smiled back, feeling a slight burning at the tip of your ears, but he leant in and placed a light kiss that made you wish for more again, which eased your nervousness.
“Guess we’re both a little shy, huh,” he remarked. You just shrugged, looking ahead to the opening of the forest, but the smile still apparent on your lips.
“And where the fuck have you two been?” cried Alby’s voice as soon as you stepped out of the trees.
Immediately, you felt as if you jumped out of your skin and let go of Newt’s hand, his cheeks burning as much as yours did. You scratched the back of your neck and glanced sheepishly at Newt, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes; neither of you could fight the smiles that broke out on both your faces.
“On your head be it, you said,” you smirked, slipping away from his indignant eyebrow raise.
You left Newt to deal with Alby alone with a playful wink, to which he only shook his head and hid his smile as he faced the approaching commander. You had half a mind to skip away with the happiness that were bubbling through you, but managed to contain yourself to walking away with a steady pace, though you couldn’t keep your thoughts from running back to the memory of Newt against you nor the smile that followed.
END NOTE ➢ I do have an idea for a part two should anyone be interested in it. Hope you enjoyed this!
Yes. Much better.
Edit: I FOUND THE PIC THAT GOES WITH IT AJDHFLSJAGAKD
Learning how to apply eyeliner is a SUCH A PAIN IN THE ASS (I’ve scrubbed my eyelids raw atp 😭)
Why did i think for a second that that was Pedro Pascal
Reconstruction of bust of Roman emperor Caracalla.
meow
Meow
Shoutout to sleepy selfshippers. Reblog if you’re a selfshipper and also tired as fuck.
[ Dividers by @/kodaswrld ]
SUP LOSERS
Tumblr locked me out of this account, so I’m on my second one lmao
so I have no idea how to do stuff with my profile thingo here on iphone. I require assistance 🧍♂️
They call me the Concrete Eater19✨ They/them lesbian ✨Fictional men enthusiast
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