Born to Run (Newt X Reader)

She-beans a Fighter

Boys shouted, whooped and hollered as they chatted around a large bonfire. You sat by yourself, hidden behind a log in the hopes you wouldn't be spotted as you chewed slowly on the bacon you'd been given for dinner. Although you didn't really remember what food tasted like, you had to admit that Frypan cooked really good bacon!

     Frypan you had learned, was the keeper of the cooks, and the best chef in the whole Glade. He'd seemed friendly enough and happily told you the story of how he earned the nickname Frypan in the first place. Apparently, he threatened everyone with one when he first came up in the box. Oh boy did you wish you could have seen that.

     You sat silently, back facing the rowdy boys as you stared intensely at the maze walls. Listening cautiously to the inhumanly screeches that echoed from behind the stone walls.

     "It's a scary place out there Greenie."

     You didn't even flinch at the sudden voice, and only continued to stare off into the distance. "As long as it's a way out, it doesn't scare me." You heard a shuffling noise and the boy lowered himself down beside you, tanned skin glowing slightly in the light of the fire.

     "They told me you were a tough one," the boy chuckled as you finally turned to face him. He was a rather well-built guy, with black hair, tanned skin and almond-shaped eyes. He bore a smug smirk on his face and once you noticed the leather straps around his chest you knew instantly that this was one of the runners you'd seen exiting the maze earlier that day.

     "Minho, right?" you questioned slowly, unsure if you'd pronounced his name right.

     "That's right she-bean."

     "She-bean? I thought I was Greenie?" you deadpanned with an eyebrow raised.

     "Yeah but you're more, how should I say this," Minho looked off into the darkness as his eyes sparkled with what you could only assume to be mischief, "More, petite? Then most Greenies. So I think she-bean suits you better." You weren't quite sure what to think of this guy.

     "Yeah and you look like the guy who used up all the hair gel," you muttered under your breath. Feeling rather surprised that you even remembered what hair gel was.

     "She-bean has attitude!" Minho remarked as his smirk turned into a slight smile, "I think you're going to fit in just fine here shank."

     "Thank you?"

     Minho leaned back against the fallen log you had taken refuge behind, resting his hands behind his head as he stared off ahead. "What exactly is out there?" you questioned as another loud screech echoed from behind the walls.

     "We're not entirely sure," Minho shrugged, "No one's ever seen, but we call 'em Grievers. All we know is that they aren't nice creatures. Wouldn't want to be stuck the night out there with 'em."

     "That's why you try to make it back before the walls close?"

     Minho turned to you with a brow raised, "Well aren't you a smart one."

     "I may not remember much," you remarked with a glare, "But I remember enough to know that that was sarcasm, and I do not appreciate it." Before Minho had time to reply loud shouts interrupted your conversation followed by a loud groan of pain.

     "Who's next!?" you recognised Gally's voice as he cried out his challenge. He stood in a large sandy circle, a large boy with wavy blonde hair and a set jaw lay on the ground at Gally's feet, wiping sand from his eyes moaning in pain. "Come on!" Gally roared, "Who wants to fight me next!?" His shout earned an uproar of cries as boys tried to dare the friends to face the beast.