"So Newt," Frypan began, throwing his arms around the both of you and pulling you closer, "I would very much like to know your intentions with my good friend y/n here."
"FRY!" you yelled, reaching over Newt to hit Frypan for the thousandth time that day, "What the shuck?!" So that's where he was going with this.
Newt laughed at your flustered reaction, and you could see the gears in his brain turning, formulating an answer.
"Well, you see, my dearest friend Frypan," he began with a mocking, dramatic tone, "I have very specific plans for y/n."
"Go on," Frypan encouraged.
"Oh God, stop it, both of you!" you scolded, burying your reddened face in your hands. Newt continued anyway.
"My intentions with y/n are the farthest from pure, and I feel obligated to let you know that, Fry," he stated confidently, never taking his eyes off of you, "We'll start off with a little bit of-"
"Shut up or I'll hit you, too," you snapped, interrupting him. When he smirked at you, you hated yourself for realizing that you wanted to hear more. As much as you tried to deny it, you wanted him to continue, and you got the feeling he knew.
"Well, well, well," Frypan chimed in, laughing and shaking his head, "I believe I hear Gally calling my name. Don't you two shanks have too much fun without me."
Of course. Set up the sexual innuendos and take off, what a great wingman! you thought, vowing to give him a strong talk as soon as he returned.
"Wait, Frypan, you can't leave me with him!" you hissed, grabbing his arm, "Not after that."
"Sorry, y/n, but I guess there's just not enough of The Fry to go around. I'll see you later!"
And just like that, he was gone, and you were left alone.
With Newt.
Again.
Shit.
YOU ARE READING
Written in the Stars - Newt Imagine
FanfictionYou're hopelessly in love with Newt, but only your best friend, Frypan, knows. As the Gladers celebrate a new arrival, you celebrate-and dread-the possibility of actually talking to the boy of your dreams.
