The maze runner imagines

Marshmallows

Character: Newt (the maze runner)

Rating: K, fluff

Words: 1.029

Warning: none

Request:  Hello :) wondering if you are still writing imagines? If no, ignore this message! Imagine Newt and the reader falling slowly for each other. Fluufff :)) that would be so nice of you! Please. Thank you!

A/N: Awh hi there love! I adore Newt so much you don’t even know, so I’m very happy you requested this :p  Woah okay sorry for all the drama in this one, I don’t know what came over me. 

Marshmallows

It wasn’t even that cold, yet you didn’t refuse Newt’s hoodie. The dirt on it didn’t mind you at all and the feeling of his sent embracing you felt surprisingly comforting. Gladers were running around, chatting in groups or sitting by the campfire. It was the Glade’s today, not really a festive event if you think about it. The Creators thought differently though: they sent up a special delivery of marshmallows, some kind of sweet drinks and even ridiculous party hats. Nevertheless everyone ate them, drank them and wore them.
Newt was sitting on a log right next to you, just in his shirt now, and rearranged the bright blue hat.
You took out your marshmallow and brought it to your lips, not thinking about the heat.

“Ah shuck,” you cursed loudly, waving your hand in front of your mouth. Newt suddenly unlocked his eyes from the fire and turned towards you, his eyes moving quickly.

“Shuck I burnt my tongue,” you murmur. A few places away from you, you could hear Minho, his purple party hat barely balancing on his quiff, shouting back.

“C’mere then, my tongue is nice and cold!” He received a couple of pats on the back from his friends, but Newt only rolled his eyes. Not only that: he also looks at the ground and

“Are you alright y/n?” Newt handed you his drink, which you eagerly accepted, nodding to assure him it wasn’t that bad. You placed the bottle in between your feet and pulled up your knees.

“Well. Happy 2 years,” you laughed sarcastically. 

“Became a lot better since you got here, trust me,” Newt answered, his gaze on the flames again. His marshmallow had become as black as the night about now, but he didn’t seem to care. He watched the gooey substance drip from the branch, sizzling as they white drops made contact with the fire.
A shadow moved in front of you. You looked up and saw Minho standing there, hands on his hips and a grin decorating his face.

“So when am I going to get that kiss, huh?” In the corner of your eyes you could see Newt sighing, almost cringing even. You stuck out your tongue in response.

“Nawh come on now y/n,” he said and lowered himself, squatting to be at eye level with you.

“Slim it Minho.”

Newt rolled his eyes again. Minho noticed and winked at him, but Newt had already averted himself from the runner. You groaned and pushed yourself up a little bit, just enough to give Minho a kiss on his cheek. The Glader fake-fainted, making everyone laugh, but your attention turned to the spot beside you. The blue party hat lay there.
Newt was gone. He was striding across the Glade, apparently going towards the gardens. It was his favourite place to be; the dirt underneath his nails reminded him of what they built here, of what they, of what he had achieved.
You stood up to follow him, leaving Minho crying from laughter on the ground, still proud of his little performance. Idiot.

On the ground in between a patch of potatoes and strawberry’s he sat. Second in command, former runner, and the thing you loved the most.

“Thanks again for the hoodie. It’s pretty cold out here in the shadows.”

“Yeah, sure.” Newt continued to fidget with the flower of a strawberry plant, pretending to inspect its snow-white petals.

“Hey what’s up all of the sudden? Half an hour ago you were all happy and now you’re not even wearing this anymore.” You held up the party hat.

“Well I’m not in the mood anymore y/n, okay?” He pulled a petal from the heart of the flower.

“That’s a big pile of klunk Newt and you know it,” you said and sat down beside him. You placed the wrinkled party hat on his head, your fingers brushing his cheek just a little too long. Or maybe long enough, since you seemed to have caught his attention.

“Don’t do that,” he whined.

“Do what?”

“Do the touchy feely thing when you and Minho can’t keep their bloody hands off each other.”

“Minho and I are just friends, Newt,” you said, but Newt shook his head. He turned his body to face yours and placed his hand on your shoulders, pinching them gently to reinforce his words.

“Then why, why why why on earth are you torturing me like that y/n. Really though.”

There was a storm in his eyes as they scanned your face. His grip got lighter.

“Newt-”

“I die at little every bloody time he makes you smile when I can’t,” he said, his voice barely a trembling whisper. You smiled sadly and he sniffed.

“Yeah see like that, I mean do you even know how adorable you look?” He sniffed and laughed again. You took his hands from your shoulders and placed them, your fingers intertwined with his, in your lap. Sitting here with Newt, cross-legged, face to face, between the blooming strawberries, the scent of his hoodie still hugging you, it all felt so right.

“You remember streetlights?”

Newt was somewhat surprised by that question. He regained control over his voice and answered: “Sure, why’d you ask?”

“Well I started thinking about you the moment I arrived,” you said, conscious Newt was drawing patterns on your palm with his thumb, “and it seems like the streetlight has been on green ever since I met you, but I think it’s broken because it won’t stop anymore.”

Before you even knew it, a feeling so warm and delightful filled your stomach, rushed through your veins, made your mind go numb, when his lips crashed onto yours. Quickly, Newt brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, stroking the skin that connected your ear and jaw line. The sweet aroma of marshmallows didn’t leave your lips when you two pulled apart. He stayed close to you, so close your noses were still touching.

Newt used the same molecules you breathed out to whisper a few words:

“Oh so now I can make you smile?”

“Newt,” you said, repositioning his party hat, “you always did.”