Maze Runner Imagines and Preferences

First fight part IV -- Minho

Ok, I know the picture isn't exactly from the part of the books/movies when this is set (kinda implied by the fact that Runners are a thing lol) but I just love this picture. Like the look on his face is just so heartbreaking. I mean, he just arrived to find his best friend (who he's known for as long as he can remember) dead on the ground while he's holding the very thing that could have saved him and I just 😭😭😭

Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

*your perspective*

I glare at the onion, laying into it viciously with a knife. To my right Frypan watches me, a slightly nervous look on his face.

"What?" I snap, roughly shoving the mutilated vegetable into the bottom of a pot on the stove.

"Are you ok?" he asks, eyeing my knife as I attack my next victim.

"Yes," I say shortly, "I'm fine."

I'm not fine, I'm bloody angry. Minho and his stupid runners. They all know I'm perfect for the job – fast, strong, determined, good sense of direction, excellent memory – but the shuck idiot won't even consider me for the job. I mean, I'm his girlfriend for fuck's sake!

"Shit," I hiss as the knife slips, leaving a small line of red on my finger.

"(Y/N)," Frypan frowns, "are you sure you're ok?"

"Yeah," I mumble around the finger in my mouth, "I'm fine."

"Go get a band aid," he orders, still frowning.

"Jeff!" I yell into the homestead, still sucking my finger.

"That you, (Y/N)?" he calls back.

"Yeah, I need a band aid!"

"One second!"

I lean against the door, listening to the clanking and banging upstairs, then the footfalls on the steps.

"Took your bloody time," I grumble when he comes down, a band aid in hand.

"Sorry, your highness," he rolls his eyes, "where am I putting this?"

I hold out my finger wordlessly, and he frowns at it.

"Cut it on a knife," I mutter, and Jeff shrugs.

"Something wrong?" he asks as he smooths the piece of plastic over the cut.

"No."

"Yes there is," he frowns, "what is it."

"Minho won't let me be a shuck runner!" I burst out, jerking my hand back. "I mean," I rant on, waving my arms around, "I can do everything they can, I'm fast, I can run for ages, I know where I'm going, and I remember everything! Ugh."

"Why won't he let you do it then?"

"I don't know!" I huff, "I mean, it's pretty stupid!"

"Hmmm..." the med jack says, biting his lip.

"I swear to god..." I mutter.

"Don't hurt anyone," he cautions me, "please."

"I'm not gonna..." I protest, then I see his face and smile. "Oh."

*that night*

I was angry all day. I guess the bonus is that the stew Frypan and I made has some of the finest cut onions in the short history of the Glade.

I flop down onto the ground beside Minho, pulling my blanket over my legs. I roll over so my back's to him, but he just wraps his arms around me from behind. I wiggle out of his embrace, flipping to lie on my back again.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asks, and I frown.

"Why won't you let me a be runner?"

"Not this again," he sighs.

"Yes, this again. Come on," I prop myself up on one elbow so I can see him properly, "the least you can do is give me a valid reason."

"(Y/N)," he sits up too, "I said no. I'm the Keeper, so that's final."

"I just want a bloody reason!" I whisper shout, glowering at the ground at front of us.

"I said no, that's the end of it."

"No," I protest stubbornly, "you know I would be perfect for the job and so does everyone in the Glade, so why not?"

"Stop pestering me!" he whisper shouts back, glancing furtively around the other sleeping boys.

"I'm not pestering," I hiss, eliciting an eye role. "Don't give me that shit!"

"I'm not..."

"Yes you are!" I huff, "You always roll your eyes at me like I'm some little kid!"

"No I don't!"

"Just let me be a runner!" I say, realising that we're off topic.

"No!"

"Why. Not." I grit out each word, he's being so damn stupid!

"Just..."

"I'm not letting it go," I cut him off, "you're not being reasonable!"

"Yes I am..."

"Then explain, Minho, please!"

"I just..." he sighs, running a hand through his already spiked-up hair, "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I..." I stop. What am I supposed to say to that?

"I'm sorry," he says, "but I'm not letting you be a runner. If anything ever happened to you..."

"Minho, I would be fine!" I protest.

"No," he shakes his head, "(Y/N) I couldn't live with myself if you got hurt."

"Nothing would hurt me out there!" I almost laugh, "you know for a fact I can defend myself!"

He studies me thoughtfully, and I cross my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow.

"Come on," I coax, "we need more runners."

"I'll train you," he says, and I almost scream in delight, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

"But.." he pulls back, scanning my face seriously, "if anything happens, that's it. Ok?"

"Yeah," I smile, "yeah ok." I lean forwards, pulling him in again. He hugs me back this time, his strong arms holding me tightly.

"I love you," he whispers in my ear, and I smile.

"I love you too."