Ever Again // Newt

Originally posted by newtmaspassion

• 17 with newt please??
• 17 and 21 with Newt!
  

Prompts: (17) “Don’t touch her!” (21) “Don’t ever do that again.” 

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Word Count: 530

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You fought against the hands that held your wrists, kicking wildly as the WICKED guard’s tried to pull you along.

You’d gone off on your own, stupidly. It hadn’t been on purpose, and rather, you’d gotten lost, separated from the others. In the process of finding the others, you’d gotten caught by WICKED, which explained your current situation. 

No matter how loud you screamed, or how hard you fought, the guard holding you never yielded. You couldn’t see his face, thanks to the mask on his head, but you could almost tell, feel, that he was smirking behind his mask. That your screaming and pleading was some sort of entertainment to him. As if you weren’t scared out of your wits, heart beating irrationally against your chest, and eyes wide with terror. Or maybe, it was the fact that you felt all those things that this man found so amusing.

“Let go!” You screeched, delivering a kick against his shin. The action elicited a groan from the man’s lips, and almost immediately he let go of you, bending over to grabbed the offended area.

Without a moment of hesitation, you spun, prepared to run far away from WICKED. You didn’t get far though, and after only a minute of running, you felt something grab your ankle. You were tugged back ruthlessly, your chest slamming into the ground and huff of pain leaving your lips as your head spun. Before you knew it, you’d been flipped, so you were on your back and staring up at the faceless guard with parted lips and a blurry vision.

For a startling second, you thought this was it. That you truly would end up back in WICKED’s hands. Your heart plummeted and a whimper left your lips. Then,

“Don’t touch her!”

The voice was easily recognizable. Without even looking, you knew it was Newt who stood behind you. You heard rapid footsteps, and then the guard above you was flung off, something long hitting him square in the face. Arms slid under your armpits, pulling you up to your feet as Newt lunged forward, smacking the guard once again, but this time in the stomach.

“Come on,” you heard Minho yell, and then realized that he was the one holding you. “We need to go! Newt!”

Newt paused, then the weapon he’d used clattered to the ground, and he spun to you. Almost instantly, you were pulled from Minho’s grasp and into Newt’s as he begun pulling you, gently, along.

You let yourself gaze back at the guard one final time, still stunned, before turning and never looking back.

Later on, when you’d regrouped with the rest and found yourself staring up at the night sky, you felt Newt next to you. His arm was around your waist, pulling you close and his eyes were open, staring at you. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, after a few moments of silence. Turning to him, you sent him a soft, small smile. “For saving me.”

“I just about lost my mind,” he whispered, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “Don’t ever do that again.” 

Wordlessly, you nodded, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck. 

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