Maze runner one shot requests

Cake---Newt imagine

You walk into the kitchen one day to get a very late lunch, and instead of Frypan, you see Newt hunched over a cookbook, a concentrated look on his face. You walk over to him, and read the cookbook over his shoulder. Newt hadn't noticed you yet, he was too engrossed in his cookbook.

"What're you doing Newt?"

Newt jumped back, then turned to you.

"(Y/N)! What? What is it?"

You put your hands up.

"I just came in here for lunch, relax."

Newt turned back to the cookbook, which was turned to a page instructing you on how to make a vanilla cake.

"Just, next time don't sneak up on me."

You rolled your eyes.

"I was here for like, five minutes. . .Now what are you doing?"

Newt sighed.

"I'm attempting to make a cake."

Well, that sounds interesting. Spending time with your crush over ripping out weeds. Choose one.

"Can I attempt to help?"

Newt nods.

"Yeah, anyone must be able to cook better than me. It says we have to get out the ingredients."

You take a glance at the cookbook, before walking to one of the many cabinets pulling out flour, sugar, eggs, butter, baking powder, and milk. While you were doing this, Newt had turned on the oven. You turned back to the cookbook.

"Okay, Newt, we need to put the milk, eggs, butter, and sugar together."

You unscrew the top of the milk container and move to turn the page of the book, and your elbow knocks the milk carton to the floor. You look down at the milk quickly flowing out of the already small bottle. You look back up at Newt, who gives you a slightly hopeful and amused smile.

"Maybe water will work. . ?"

You nod

"Yeah, yeah lets try that."

Newt moves to fill up a bottle with water as you add the eggs and butter to the bowl. Newt comes back with the water and adds it to the mix. Newt picks up the now sacred cookbook.

"It says put all the dry things in a bowl and mix it."

He looks at the bowl, then over at the large bags of flour, then back to you.

"(Y/N). . .how are we going to bloody fit all that flour in the bowl?"

You take the cookbook out of his hands.

"It says three cups. We have to measure it."

Newt picks up the bag of flour.

"Okay, hold the cup, I'll pour it."

You do what he says, but start to protest,

"Uh, Newt are you sure this is the best way to do thi-"

Newt slips on the milk you completely forgot to clean up, falls into you, and drops the flour. Taken by surprise, you fall over like dominos, as the flour explodes on the floor, covering you, Newt, and the floor. You and Newt just lay on the floor for a second looking at each other.

Newt's blond hair was dusted with flour, his face pale from the incredible amount of flour that landed there, yet you could still see when he blushed.

He stood up and offered you his hand.