Threads of Hope | A Newt x Reader Story

03

Minho raised his bottle. "To Y/N—the first girl in the Glade and our soon-to-be best Runner."

A chorus of cheers followed, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks—not from the fire, but from the overwhelming feeling of being accepted.

For the first time since waking up here, I didn't feel like an outsider.

I felt like I belonged.

𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢

The warmth of the fire flickered across my skin, but the noise of the celebration started to feel overwhelming. The laughter, the shouts, the constant motion—it was a lot.

I slipped away from the center of camp, stepping past the edge of the fire's glow until I found a quiet spot near an old tree stump. The Glade stretched out before me, bathed in the dim orange light of the bonfire, but it felt more peaceful here.

I wasn't alone for long.

"Didn't think you'd be the type to sneak off from your own party," a familiar British voice murmured behind me.

I turned my head and found Newt standing there, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly as he studied me. He had a bottle of moonshine in one hand—Gally's infamous recipe—and a curious expression on his face.

"Wasn't really my plan," I admitted. "Just needed a breather."

Newt smirked as he stepped closer, lowering himself onto the stump beside me. "Yeah. First nights can be a bit much." He handed me the bottle. "You drink?"

I took it hesitantly, looking at the liquid inside. "Depends. Am I going to regret this?"

"Probably."

I huffed a laugh before taking a small sip. The burn hit my throat instantly, and I coughed, squeezing my eyes shut as warmth spread through my chest.

Newt chuckled. "Not bad, huh?"

"Not bad?" I croaked, handing it back. "Tastes like death."

He took a slow drink, tilting his head back, his throat moving as he swallowed. The firelight danced across his skin, casting soft shadows over the sharp edges of his jawline. His blond hair looked even messier than usual, a few strands falling over his forehead.

I had seen him every day since waking up in this place, but somehow, I hadn't really looked at him before.

Noticed the little things.

Like the way his lips curved just slightly at the corners when he was amused. The way his muscles flexed subtly when he moved, lean but strong. The way his brown eyes caught the firelight, hints of gold flickering in their depths.

"You're staring," Newt said, smirking as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

My face warmed. "I was not."

"Sure you weren't, love." He leaned back against the stump, resting one arm across his knee as he looked out at the Glade. "Crazy, isn't it? That we're all just here. In this place. No clue how or why."

I followed his gaze, watching the silhouettes of Gladers moving near the fire. "Yeah. Feels like a fever dream sometimes."

Newt exhaled, fingers idly tracing the rim of the bottle. "Been here two years now."

I looked at him sharply. "Two years?"

He nodded. "Me, Alby, Minho, a few others... we were some of the first. Built all this from the ground up." His voice was quiet, distant. "At first, we thought it was temporary. That someone would come for us. But no one ever did."

Two years. Stuck in the same place, trapped with no answers. The thought sent a chill through me.

"Do you ever think about giving up?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Newt's fingers tensed around the bottle for a brief second. Then he let out a soft chuckle, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Can't afford to."

Silence settled between us, comfortable yet heavy. I could hear the distant crackle of the fire, the occasional burst of laughter from the other Gladers. But here, hidden in the shadows, it felt like it was just the two of us.

"You're stronger than you think," Newt said suddenly, looking at me.

I frowned. "What makes you say that?"

He studied me for a long moment, then shrugged. "Most Greenies spend their first few days scared shuckless. You? You already found your place. That's not nothing."

I bit my lip, looking down at my hands. "Still feels like I don't know what I'm doing."

Newt nudged my knee with his own. "None of us do, love. We just pretend we do."

I smiled, small but real. "Thanks, Newt."

He tilted his bottle toward me before taking another sip. "Anytime, Greenie."

And for the first time that night, the noise of the bonfire didn't seem so overwhelming.

𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢𓇢

The bonfire was beginning to die down, the once-roaring flames now reduced to a steady glow. Laughter still echoed through the camp, but the energy had shifted—some Gladers were already stumbling off to their sleeping areas, others lingering in quiet conversations near the embers.

Newt stretched beside me, rolling his shoulders with a tired sigh. "Alright, Y/N. Time you got some sleep."

I hesitated, still soaking in the warmth of the fire, the comfort of not feeling so alone. But exhaustion was creeping in, making my limbs heavy. I nodded. "Yeah. Probably a good idea."

He stood first, offering me a hand. I took it without thinking, his palm rough against mine as he pulled me to my feet. When I let go, my fingers still tingled.

We walked side by side, the noise of the camp fading with each step. Newt had insisted earlier that I sleep in a more private space—an area near the gardens, tucked between the trees, where a few extra supplies had been set up for me. It was simple, just a hammock and some blankets beneath a small makeshift shelter, but it was more than I expected.

As we reached my spot, I turned to face him. The moon hung high above us, casting a faint silver light over his face. Without the fire's glow, his features looked softer, his usual sharp expression replaced by something quieter.

"Not bad for your first official night, yeah?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

I smiled. "Yeah. Not bad."

Newt leaned against one of the wooden posts supporting my little shelter, his arms crossed over his chest. "Get some rest, Y/N. You've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

I rolled my eyes. "You sound like a bossy older brother."

He scoffed. "If I were your brother, I wouldn't be wasting my time walking you all the way here, now would I?"

Something about the way he said it made my stomach flip, though I couldn't quite place why.

I tucked my arms around myself, suddenly aware of how quiet it was. The only sounds were the distant murmurs of the camp and the rustling of the trees in the night breeze.

Newt shifted, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a small, lopsided smile, he reached out and nudged me inside.

"Goodnight, Greenie," he murmured.

I swallowed, my heart skipping a beat at the unexpected touch. "Goodnight, Newt."

He hesitated—just for a second—then nodded and turned away, disappearing into the night.

I watched him go, only lying down once his footsteps had faded completely.

And as I closed my eyes, I realized that for the first time since arriving in the Glade... I actually felt safe.