Newt Imagines

cooking lessons // 5

Frypan had gotten sick, and Alby decided you would take over for him until he could go back to his duties. Frypan had been training you to become a cook, and you were doing well. You chopped things precisely, added the right spices, were good at inventing recipes, and following others. Newt had offered to help you, and you accepted not knowing what the consequences would be.

"Bloody hell, that is hot--" he pulled his hand off the pot, shaking it as if to get rid of the pain.

You shook your head, placing the lid on a pot of soup you were making. "God, you're a natural" you said sarcastically, grabbing his hand and shoving it under the cold faucet. He hissed, but you knew it was only a minor burn.

"How do you manage in here?" he looked over at you, his hand still under the water. "I don't know, I like it. It's hard to explain, but it feels like I belong here." you shook your head "I get a sense I liked cooking before I came here" he nodded in understanding.

You looked up and smirked, "You may wanna escape as soon as possible, before you get any more battle wounds." And with that you turned and started attending to the soup.

"Maybe you could teach me to cook?" he shut off the tap with his good hand, turning back towards you. You laughed "Maybe. But when would we be allowed to use the kitchen? Frypan would murder me if he knew I'd used his supplies to teach a hopeless cook like you." you pointed your ladle at him.

He shrugged, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your stomach and resting his face in the crook of your neck. You stopped stirring the soup and closed your eyes. "Please?" you broke from his grasp, and turned to look at him, your bodies close in the small kitchen. "Fine," you pecked him on the lips "but it'll have to be late at night, and nobody can know."

He smiled in his victory, and kissed you again before heading out of the kitchen. Your cheeks were red as you continued to make dinner.

~

Newt came and shook you awake gently, pulling you with him towards the kitchen in the dead of night. Luckily nobody was there in the kitchen. You had to be silent, you didn't want to wake up the people who were sleeping in the Homestead.

"So," Newt whispered, his lips hovering right beside your ear, "what are we making?"

"Pancakes" you pulled ingredients from the cupboard "and you better stop distracting me with your puppy eyes or we'll end up burning the whole shuck place down. Then Alby will personally feed us to the Grievers." Newt didn't seem the slightest bit worried.

You handed him a whisk, and showed him how to stir the batter. His elbow jutted out and he nearly broke all the eggs, but luckily you caught the carton before it hit the ground. You scolded him many times: for every broken egg, every misused utensil, every stolen kiss, distracting touch.

"You are a very mean teacher Y/N" you furrowed your brows, taking your turn at whisking the batter. You worked the clumps of flour into the mix, until it was smooth. "And you're a very disobedient student." you saud playfully.

"Pass me the ladle," you said motioning to the counter. "What the bloody is a ladle?" Newts face was twisted in confusion. You sighed dramatically

"It's like, um, like a little scoopy spoon..." you tried to explain. He furrowed his brow as he rifled through the drawer. Finally he found it, and held it above his head triumphantly.

You spread a bit of butter onto the pan, and turned on the stove. You took his hand and guided it slowly towards the bowl. You scooped some pancake batter, and moved his hand over to just above the frypan.

It hit the pan with a satisfying sizzle, and you watched as it started to turn golden. You flipped it with your spatchula. Newt grabbed a plate, and you placed it onto its porcelain surface. "Your turn" you said lightly.

He followed suit, doing exactly as you'd showed him, and you smiled. "You did it shank! You actually make youself a shucking pancake!"

"Well I do have an excellent teacher."

"I thought you said I was mean," you crossed your arms, a look of mock hurt on your face.

"That too," he said cupping your face.

"I hate you, you know that right?"

"No you don't, darling. You love me," and you finally let him kiss you without pulling away. You didn't even care that the pancake behind you was burning to a crisp.

~

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?" you turned to see Frypan in the doorway, looking incredulously between you and Newt, and the burning pancakes. His face was less feverish, and he was definitely well enough to get out of bed. He'd probably come down to snuggle his cooking supplies or something. You looked up at Newt sharply.

"Run."

And with that he grabbed your hands and you both bolted as Frypan called out from behind you, cursing like a sailor, surely waking everyone in the entire Glade up. You couldn't help laughing, as you tripped, pulling Newt down on top you.

"Well, I guess there goes my cooking career." Newt chuckled against your neck, pressing soft kisses up you jawline.

"Don't worry, he'll calm down. He just doesn't like people screwing with his ladles."

"You didn't know what a ladle was until I told you"

"I only did that to annoy you"

"I don't believe you"

He crashed his mouth against yours, and you saw all the stars you could never imagine. You saw colours and dimensions and faces, until there was nothing left but you and Newt, sharing a happiness that was unreplicatable.

A/N: two imagines in one day? Crazy. Do you guys like the cuter one (did you even consider that cute?) or do you like more dramatic ones? Becasue I will be doing both. See ya on the flipside homeskillets ~Nev

Extra A/N: the song I've put on the side is very sentimental to me. I'm not sure why I'm telling you this... It reminds me of when my family fell apart, because I used to listen to this song before I went to bed every night when my Grandma was sick. Funny how such happy songs can bring tears to my eyes...