Newt imagines!

Stolen the Fire in the Fight

You hate fighting. All kinds of fighting. Using your hands, feet or even words, you hate it. Nothing good ever came from fighting, it only dug the hole deeper until you hit solid stone and then everything you have built with the person is shattered. Which is why you hate now.

Ok, you understand that relationships have their ups and downs and that how you resolve a fight shows how strong the relationship is, but this relationship felt real, strong and you can't think of a way this fight is going to end well.

You love Newt with your entire heart and you know he loves you back, not just because he mentions it everyday it's the look in his eyes and smile on his lips when he is near. Loosing that love to this fight might rip your heart in half, you wouldn't be able to take the pain let alone let the issue slip by in the way he wanted.

"Y/n I'm sorry." He mutters just loud enough for you to catch.

"Well, I should shucking think so... Newt what the hell?" You scream.

Newt rugby tackles you swinging you over his shoulder, he grunts as your head bumps into his back and your feet lash out trying to get on the floor. The blood rushes to your head making you feel dizzy. What the hell is he doing?
Your vision is filled with his red vest top covered in his creamy hoodie and the strap of his machete belt that he wears like a handbag - you loved to tease him about.
You scream and pound your fists against his back only hesitating when your view goes up and down, in time with walking. The bumps get bigger as he walks down the wooden staircase, the floorboards creek under the added weight.
You lift your head enough to see the homestead door shutting as he carried you out into the fresh smelling glade.

"NEWT!" You shout. "Shucking put me down you shuckface."

He chuckles and pulls your legs down adjusting your position on his shoulder before breaking into a limped run. You scream and grab onto his back holding on for dear life, if he drops you he will end in another fight - one he can't so easily carry away.
You feel more dizzy when he runs around in large circles, circling the gardens where you need to be working any time soon. You yell at him again and he slows to a jog.

"I'll put you down, if you forgive me."

You try to fold your arms even if he can't see you. "Well you'll have to keep running then."

"As your highness wishes." He sprints off towards the animal pens.

Oh he's in trouble. Newt never knew the right time to stop digging the hole especially when in your bad book and you didn't burn the pages easily.
He continues running with you flopping on his shoulder, the air filled with your screams and curses.
Where is he taking you? - He had gone past the animal pens, you noticed the smell of manure and animal dung, and how it gradually faded away. He hadn't gone near the deadheads, you would of noticed the fading light and tree roots sticking out the floor but you also couldn't hear the other gladers milling about doing break stuff in this midday lunch break.

"Newt!" Your voice more serious than it has been. Your beginning to feel worse than dizzy, the new feeling is unknown but definitely mixed with frustration.

He stops by a green patch of grass, the daisies spin - you really need the blood out of your head. As if he heard you he lowers you gently onto the long grass so your looking up at the empty blue sky, not a single bird insight as usual. The blue is overtaken by a mix of blond and skin colour, Newt smiles down at you carefully securing you into the grass.

"You forgiving me sweetheart?"

You shake your head firmly. No way was he going to know that his little robbery had stolen the angry fire from within you, he was too sweet, cute to be angry at - maybe you did burn pages easily.

"Well, we will have to find another way. Like this."

He tickles you drawing the laughter and giggles out of your stubborn shell. You bite your lip refusing to give in, you really are stubborn. You roll flattening the untouched grass aiming to trap off his hands nevertheless he still finds a ticklish spot.

"Stop...please...Newt...stop." You gasp for air, your sides aching from the laughing.

"Forgive me." His hands dance over you.

"Newt!" You wail pushing his hands away but they come straight back.

"Forgive me." He continues to press.

You don't answer gasping for air amongst the laughter. He removes his hands smiling at the jumbled laughing mess he had turned you into, proud of his work. Your laughing fades as you stare into his warm chocolate eyes, they en-trance you still after the year and two months you've been together. His smirk is reflected on your face, he leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours to quickly chance direction. Your groan in complaint is silenced when he covers your face in small kisses. You giggle again.

"Forgive..." His lips hanging over your nose, so close to your lips.

"Newt, I forgave ages ago. Now stop teasing." You pull his lips equal with yours.

He finally kisses you, his tongue slipping past your lips. You forget the argument, how could you stay angry at him? It's Newt, your love, your boyfriend.

He pulls away giving two centimetres between your lips, his eyes are filled with the familiar love that you know is reflected in yours.

He grins. "What were we even fighting over?"

You slap his arm and kiss him again.