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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 2 years

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The Power of Suffering - Part 1 (Gally x OC)

Summary: Joan was the only survivor from her own maze, rescued by the Right Arm nearly a year ago. But now she was going out with them to try and save some other kids just like her. Only what they find is a boy barely clinging to life - and she is determined to save him.

Pairing: Gally x OC (Joan)

Word Count: 3675

Warnings: blood, death mention, canon typical violence, sloppy medical procedures, canon divergence, background original characters

ONE | TWO | THREE

“Do you trust me?” Nellie had asked her, holding up the tracking device they had pulled from the Griever's corpse.

Joan looked up at her, her hands still covered in the blood of her friends that she had tried to save but couldn’t, and nodded her head. Whatever was out there had to be better than staying in here.

“I trust you,” she had whispered in return, taking her friend’s other hand and making a break for possible freedom. Only a handful of their group was left, and they all followed them into the labyrinth.

The Maze twisted and turned in seemingly random directions, but Nellie appeared to know exactly where she was going, her eyes focused and her tired face lifted in hope. They came to a bridge, the doors on the other side already opening to reveal a path that lead away from the Maze. The group of girls, Joan included, dared to smile as they jogged across the bridge.

But the smiles all dropped and screams filled the air when Grievers started crawling up the sides of the bridge, grabbing anyone they could get their mechanical claws around. Including Nellie. Joan screamed, pulled with all her might to keep her friend at her side, but she wasn’t strong enough. Nellie was ripped from her and thrown over the side of the bridge, just as the Grievers began to shut down and fall from the bridge themselves.

Through the doors came a group of masked men, wearing dark clothes and carrying guns held aloft and ready to fire, but their guns immediately lowered when they saw Joan trembling alone on the bridge. Tears streamed down her red cheeks, green eyes large and terrified as they approached her.

“We’re with the Right Arm — you’re safe now. Safe from WCKD.”

The truck went over a bump in the desert, stirring Joan from her revery and forcing her back into the present. They were going to another Maze facility, the Right Arm chapter based near the Last City, and as their resident Combat Medic, she had been ordered to go along. Ever since she had been given the order her mind had been wandering back to that day she was saved from her own Maze. All she knew was that she was thankful that they had saved her from that hell, but they had been too late to save any of her friends. To save Nellie.

Joan took those thoughts and crumpled them into a ball, forcing them down into her throat and into a dark place within herself where they would let her focus on the job that needed to be done. It had been nearly a year. She had hoped that the memories would have faded by now. Instead, they were still sharp and dangerous and painful.

Beckett, the man in charge of the mission, turned back from talking to the driver, “Alright, we’re almost there gentleman — and Joan. Remember, we’re here to rescue the kids, not destroy the place.”

“But if it happens along the way?” Farley asked from beside Joan, making the other men in the unit chuckle beneath their breath.

“Two birds with one stone I suppose.” Beckett cracked a smile, causing the other men to stomp their feet and holler in excitement.

Joan only betrayed a small smile before she ducked down and did her triple check of her medical bag. IV fluids. Tourniquets. Bandages. Morphine. Gloves. Antiseptic. She hoped that she didn’t have to use any of it. That her role was only a precaution instead of a necessity. But she had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case on this mission.

The truck came to a sudden halt, and before she knew it Beckett was leading the unit inside the massive WCKD Maze facility. Memories tried to uncrumple themselves and come back into the light, but she forced them back into their corner where they belonged as she ran in through the doors that Farley held open.

All the monitors had been turned off. There was broken glass all over the place. And two bodies lay on the floor.

“Farley, stay with Joan in here, we’re going into the Maze to look for more kids.” Beckett signaled the rest of the unit to follow him further into the darkness.

Joan went into autopilot as she dropped down onto her knees beside the first body she came across. It was a boy no older than thirteen, his eyes still open and a massive red stain covering his shirt. She reached up to check his pulse and wasn’t surprised when she didn’t feel that familiar beat beneath her fingers. Farley looked at her expectantly, only to grimace when she shook her head solemnly. She closed the young boy's eyes before moving onto the next body.

Another boy, with a spear sticking out of his chest. God, what happened here? Joan had to wonder as she rolled him onto his back so she could check his pulse. He was around her age, maybe a little older, with sandy blonde hair and built like a tree. He was handsome in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Two fingers on his carotid artery she prayed for a pulse, and she gasped when she felt a faint and slow throb where she assumed there would be nothing.

“He’s alive!” she shouted, quickly grabbing her medical kit and taking a further assessment of the damage that had been done to his body as she cut away his shirt with her pair of medical shears.

In the Maze, she had been the medic because somebody had to be, because she was the one unlucky enough to step in when someone hurt themselves the first time. Now it was a choice. A choice to help people in need every day that she loved to make.

He had already bled out quite a bit, but the spear stopped the majority of the blood that was probably building up inside his chest cavity from escaping. He was going to need surgery if he was going to live, but she couldn’t just open him up right there, she didn’t have the equipment for that or the knowledge. From the discoloration of his face and the sweat on his brow, she could assume that he had been stung by one of the Grievers, so he was going to need serum as well.

As she pulled on her gloves she ordered, “Farley, put pressure around the wound.”

“You mean the spear?” The man built akin to a bear dropped down to the floor immediately, and put his hands on the boy’s chest.

“He’ll live — “ she said, more to herself than anything else as she pulled out the one vile of serum she had brought with her, “As long as we get him back to base. He’ll live.”

“Joanie,” Farley said softly, “We’re three days from base.”

She had nearly forgotten.

“Well, we’ll have to make due here then.” She looked up at Farley as she administered the serum, “Are you with me?”

He looked at the young girl, unsure if he really wanted this total stranger’s life in his hands. He was a soldier, not a medic. But Joan couldn’t do this alone, and he didn’t want the kid to die either. So he agreed with a nod of his head.

Joan, on the other hand, hadn’t even stopped to confirm with Farley. She knew she needed to act fast if this was going to work. After injecting him with a dose of morphine for the pain, though she highly doubted he would wake up for at least a few days, she pulled from her bag a scalpel, a ton of bandages, a chest tube, stitching needle, and fishing wire.

She handed Farley a few of the bandages and picked up the scalpel.

“On three you’re gonna take the spear out.”

“I’m gonna what?”

“One — “

“Wait, Joanie, I don’t think — “

“Two — “

“Oh, my God.”

“Three.”

Farley pulled the spear out of the boy’s chest with a grunt and threw it to the side as Joan quickly covered the gaping hole with bandages.

“Put pressure on that. Pressure,” she said as she picked up the scalpel and the chest tube, “Now I have to make an incision between his fourth and fifth ribs in order to get the blood and extra air out of his lungs.”

“What about his heart?” Farley asked, eyes trained on Joan’s steady hands as they drove the scalpel into the boy’s side.

“If the spear had hit his heart he’d be dead.” She inserted the chest tube into the cut she had made and blood began to trickle out of it and onto the floor.

“Now what do we do?” Farley asked.

“We wait for the blood to stop. Then I can close the wound.”

She was finishing the last stitch when the rest of the unit returned from the Maze without any newcomers in tow.

“They’re all gone. Must have been taken to some other facility before we got here,” Beckett explained, his eyes locked on Joan at work, “What about the other one?”

“Didn’t make it,” she replied as she tied off the last stitch on the cut she had made on his side.

“Walter, Jameson — take him outside and bury him. He deserves at least that,” Beckett sighed, “What about this one?”

“He might still live,” she answered as she began packing up her kit, looking up at Beckett with a near pleading look, “As long as we get him back to base as fast as we can so he can get some real treatment. This is a patch job at best. He needs to be opened up and I can’t — can’t do that.”

“Right. Johnson, get the rescue board and load him into the truck. Joan, stay with him.”

The three-day ride back to base was torturous, slow, and touch and go at best. Joan had to constantly monitor his heart rate and breathing, his bandages had to be replaced every few hours, and she was so terrified that he was going to die that she didn’t sleep the entire time. He had to live. She needed him to live. They had been through the same thing, had lived through the Maze and were free, and she wanted him to have that same chance she did. That same chance to finally live instead of survive.

So she held his hand for three days straight, willing him to last just a little bit longer.

As soon as they arrived back at base, the Last City looming over their heads, the boy from the Maze was rushed to the medical wing where an actual doctor could treat his wound. Joan followed dutifully behind him, her eyes blurred from lack of sleep and her hands shaky. The doctor told her to go get some rest as soon as he saw her, but she refused, saying that she needed to see this through to the very end. And so she sat in on the procedure to seal the wound on his lung and remove the rest of the fluids from his chest cavity. It was only when he was resting on a cot in the medical wing that she finally fell asleep. Laying in the spare cot she had pulled up next to his bed.

He didn’t wake up for another four days. And all that time she stayed by his side. Checking his vitals, renewing his IV, replacing his bandages. She only left to eat and help with other patients. Everyone around base knew that it was not her sense of medical duty that kept her with the boy from the Maze, it was far more personal than that. It was the fact that they were one and the same, Joan and this stranger. They both were survivors, they were both immunes. There was no one else in the Right Arm who Joan could relate to, except the boy lying unconscious in the medical wing.

It was bright and early on his fourth day after being brought to base that his eyes slowly peeled open, revealing blue eyes like the sky above. He, of course, immediately tried to sit up and possibly leave where he was lying, but Joan was there to force him back down with a gentle smile.

“Hey, hey, hey, its okay! It’s okay! You’re safe now!” she assured him. Even in his weakened state, she had a hard time fighting back against his strength.

“Safe? What the hell does that mean?” His voice was rough and harsh, it nearly made her flinch.

“You’re out of the Maze — for one thing.” He finally stopped resisting her hands as he finally let her ease him back onto the cot, “And you’re no longer in WCKD’s hands. You’re with the Right Arm — you’re really free.”

“Where’s the others?”

“We don’t know.” She didn’t see the point in lying to him, he seemed like the kind that could tell that she was and would get the truth out of her one way or another, “You were the only one left when we got there.”

“They left me there,” He whispered, his face contorting in pain as he rested his head back on the pillows.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He glared at her for a moment, wondering if he could really trust her, but he seemed to resolve something to himself before he answered, “Gally.”

“Nice to meet you, Gally. I’m Joan. Are you in pain?” Joan quickly stood up straight and rushed over to the medical supply cabinet by his cot, “I’ll give you a dose of morphine then we can check your vitals.”

He didn’t say anything in return, only continued to stare up at the vaulted church ceilings of the Right Arm base. She gave him the dose through his IV line then grabbed her stethoscope to test his heart and lung function. Pressing the stethoscope to his still shirtless chest, she listened to his heart for a moment, the beat of it strong and healthy in her ears.

“Your heart sounds good.” After helping him sit up against his pillow she moved the instrument to where his lungs would be in his chest cavity and instructed, “I need you to take a deep breath for me.”

He complied after a moment, but seemed to struggle to take in as much air as he used to, his eyes going blurry for a moment before he let out the breath with a huff. He stared up at her calm face for a moment, taking in her soft features and the even softer look in her eyes before mumbling, “Why can’t I breathe?”

“Do you want the long version or the short version?” she asked, but when he didn’t respond she rolled her eyes, “Long version it is then. You were stabbed with a spear. It missed your heart but tore up your left lung pretty bad. When we found you I patched you up as best I could — but it wasn’t till we got back here that the damage to your lung could be addressed.”

“Can we switch to the short version now?”

Joan grinned as she sat back down on the cot beside him, “Fine. In short, you only have one good lung.”

“Joanie!” Beckett’s loud voice suddenly rang out through the nearly empty medical wing, “You were supposed to radio when the kid woke up!”

“Sorry! Sorry! I just wanted to check his vitals first.” She scrambled from the cot, appearing nervous for the first time as she fiddled with the buttons on her long jacket, “Everything looks good. The wounds are healing nicely and his heart is strong.”

“Thank you, Joanie, but I think the kid can speak for himself now. Go check on the other patients while I talk to him — alone.” Beckett rested his hands on the collar of his kevlar vest and watched in bemusement as Joan bristled before turning on her heel and heading across the room. He then looked down at the boy from the Maze, whose eyes remained focused on Joan even from across the room, “Name’s Beckett, second in command around here. What can we call you?”

“Who’s she?” He ignored Beckett’s question, much to his annoyance.

“She’s the girl who saved your life,” Beckett sighed, looking over his shoulder at Joan as she changed another patient’s bandages with a smile, “Didn’t sleep for three days to make sure you didn’t die.”

“Why?”

Beckett scooted the cot closer and took a seat before answering, “She’s like you. We saved her from a Maze nearly a year ago.”

“What do you want with me?”

“How ‘bout you answer one of my questions first,” Beckett said, “What’s your name, kid?”

“Gally.”

“Okay, Gally, you’re here because you have something that Lawrence wants. It’s why Joan’s here too, actually.”

Gally glanced back over at Joan across the room. She had moved on to another patient. One she was talking animatedly with about something as she took their blood pressure. Why had he felt the need to look at her? He knew the answer but hated it just the same. He felt comfortable in her presence. The simple sight of her was familiar and kind in this place where he knew no one. He was left behind by everyone he could ever remember, yet she, a total stranger, stayed awake for three days straight so he wouldn’t die. As far as he was concerned, she was the only one he could trust in this place.

“Who’s Lawrence? And what could we have that he could possibly want?” Gally looked back to Beckett with cold, hard eyes that even made the grown man feel a bit intimidated.

“Lawrence is in charge around here — and you two have what a lot of people around here want. Immunity.” Beckett’s eyes turned dark, “Once you’re fit to move Lawrence wants to meet you.”

Gally swallowed thickly, “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Listen, we’re not the bad guys, kid,” Beckett sighed, gaze back to normal as he stood from the cot, “The bad guys are the ones who kept you in that maze. We’re only trying to help.”

“Sounds like you’re only trying to use me.”

“You’ll feel differently when you meet him.” Beckett smirked as he gave Gally’s shoulder a pat, “See you when you’re better, kid. Bye, Joanie!”

The blonde looked up from where she was cleaning a mess from the floor with a smile and wave to Beckett as he left. Once the mess was clean she went back to Gally with a clean shirt for him to put on.

“Beckett’s a good guy, I promise.” She smiled nervously as she bunched the shirt at the collar to slip it over his head, “Once you get to know him, anyway.”

“I don’t think I wanna get to know him.” Gally winced as he lent forward.

Brows furrowed in contemplation, Joan sat down on the edge of his cot and gently put the shirt over his head and helped him to get his arms through the holes. He was strong, that much was for sure. But his body was also littered with scars. Most were old and faded to white, others were more recent and still pink. He was a boy torn apart and put back together again and again. And she could see that same tearing and breaking clouding his blue eyes.

“Look. No one’s gonna make you stay here against your will. Not Beckett. Not even Lawrence. If you wanna leave, you have every right to. But I will say this about the Right Arm — they give you a chance to be a better person than you were in the Maze. A chance to make up for lost time. A chance to help. WCKD needs to be stopped — and the Right Arm are the only ones doing anything about it.”

“Is that why you stayed? For a second chance?”

Joan looked down at his hand thoughtfully before she took it. His hands were much larger than her own. And even though her hands were not Lilly soft, his were infinitely rougher. Fighter’s hands, maybe even builder’s hands. She could feel him tense when she touched him, but she refused to let go. Knowing just how important touch could be after the Maze.

“I couldn’t save anyone in my Maze. Any of my friends. But here I’ve saved hundreds of people. Helped even more than that. Makes me feel like a human instead of…”

“An animal?” Gally suggested with a tone of understanding he couldn’t fully comprehend.

“Yeah. Exactly.” Joan smiled as she stood from his cot, “Now, get some rest, Gally. Big day tomorrow.”

After helping him lay back down she turned to the cot she’d been sleeping on for the past four nights and gathered her things. A blanket she knitted herself. Her pillow. And a worn hardcover book.

“You read?” Gally asked when he noticed the book held delicately in her hands. Almost like it was sacred. Almost as if he didn’t want her to leave him.

“Yes. I love to read. Aren’t many books around anymore though. Most of them burnt up in the Scorch.” Joan looked down to the cover fondly, tracing her fingers over where the title used to be written in gold, “It’s the only one I’ve got. Bought it from a shady man closer to the city.”

“What book is it?”

“Little Women. I read from it every day.”

Gally hesitated for a moment, questioning his motives as to why he wanted her to stay with him for just a little bit longer, but then he gave in and asked quietly, almost sheepishly, “Would you read it to me?”

“Of course!” Joan immediately dropped back down to the cot and cracked open the book, “I was about halfway through — but I’ll start at the beginning.”

“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug …

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blackbirdi · 15 days

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Tired

Brief Description: You're tired and your boyfriend's making sure you're getting to sleep.

Point of View: 2nd Person

Word Count: 454

Character: Character not specified; Multifandom x Reader, whatever character you so desire x Reader

It was movie night, like every Friday night, and you and your boyfriend had just sat down to pick something to watch.

As your boyfriend was scrolling through your movie options, out of the corner of his eyes he saw you yawn. He smiles like a lovesick fool at how cute you look when tired.

Turning to you, he chuckles quietly asking, "Tired, baby?"

"Extremely," you reply in a soft voice, leaning against his side.

He throws an arm over your shoulders, pulling you onto his lap. You shift slightly, trying to find a comfortable position before you lean your head against his chest.

"What time did you go to bed last night?" he asks you softly, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

You shrug, answering, "I don't know."

He rolls his eyes affectionately at you, pressing his lips to your temple, which only causes you to melt into his embrace more.

"What was the last time you saw on the clock?" your boyfriend rephrases his question.

Your eyebrows furrow together in thought, your boyfriend's heart melts just a little bit more at the sight. God, you're gorgeous.

He never thought he could fall in love before, let alone this in love. Every little thing you've done and will continue to do since he met you has only made his heart beat stronger for you.

"One twenty ... something," you respond.

Your boyfriend's arms tighten around you, holding you closer as he asks in worry, "You went to bed that late?"

With a small giggle, you reply, "I went to bed like two hours after that."

He makes a sound between a sigh and a laugh, bringing you closer to his chest as he presses a series of kisses to your face.

"Baby, you need to sleep more," he gently scolds you, smiling down at you with that same lovesick smile.

"I know," you whisper back, nuzzling your face into his chest.

Getting a sudden idea, your boyfriend twists around on the couch, laying down across it as he settles you onto his chest.

"How about we play the movie as background noise so you can sleep?" he suggests, running his hand through your hair as you snuggle deeper into his chest.

"Sounds good," you mumble, yawning once more.

He kisses the top of your head, clicking on your favourite movie as his arms encircle your waist, keeping you close.

"I love you," he mutters, nuzzling his face into your hair, smiling at the smell of your shampoo.

God, he was whipped.

"I love you too, sweetheart," you mumble back, closing your eyes as the feeling of your boyfriend's finger running through her hair and the warmth of his embrace lulls you to sleep.

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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year

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Heyyy do you do reacts? Like "How the TMR boys would react to you calling them pretty" . If so, thank youuu :)

Oooo I never even thought about doing this, but I can absolutely give it a go :))

YOU THINK I'M PRETTY?

MASTERLIST | MULTI-CHARACTER MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Gender neutral reader.

WARNINGS: None really, maybe some inappropriate language and flirty behaviour.

"You know, you're actually kinda pretty."

THOMAS

Would not know how to react.

Thomas absolutely would be completely dumbfounded.

He'd been attracted to you ever since he'd arrived in the Glade, so you complimenting him would leave him in a stunned state.

Probably would also be the first and only time he gets complimented because the Gladers just call each other ugly on a daily basis.

"Oh, uh- thanks- thank you."

You probably wouldn't think much of it and go about your day.

He would spend the next four years thinking about it.

"They think I'm pretty."

Definitely a much needed confidence boost since he (especially in the books) is having a permanent identity crisis.

He might not know who he is, but damn, at least he's pretty.

NEWT

Newt isn't a stranger to compliments. He's one of the oldest standing Gladers and people often comment on his work ethic and ability to think fast.

His appearance though?

That's new.

He'd probably freeze, laughing it off as you just kinda randomly say it whilst he's working with the Track-hoes.

"Heh, what?"

In all honesty, you'd have been watching him for a while, admiring his features and when you say it, it would have been a thought you didn't mean to say out loud more than anything.

That wouldn't stop him from thinking about it. It would get brushed over fairly quickly since Newt is a busy dude, but he would definitely ask Minho and his friends about it.

"What do you think it means?

"Uh, that they think you're pretty? Duh."

Like Thomas, he would probably lie awake thinking about it, or just throughout his day, a soft smile playing on his lips, and he would definitely get caught laughing.

"Dude, you're thinking about it again?"

"Shut up, slinthead!"

"Touched a nerve, pretty boy?"

MINHO

Minho knows he's pretty. Everyone knows he's pretty. Just look at the guy. Even Thomas thinks he's pretty (*cough* the three paragraphs dedicated to describing Minho's arms in the book *cough*).

He'd probably laugh.

Sure, it's common knowledge that he's a good looking guy, but for someone to say it to him?

That'd be entertaining.

He'd tease you about it, making you the one that becomes a blushing mess.

"Hey, so how pretty do you think I am, exactly?"

He would not let it go.

But he wouldn't brag to the other Gladers about it. He would keep the information to himself, mainly keeping up the light bullying in private and leaving other Gladers confused as to why you tended to leave his presence bright red.

Secretly, he'd be thrilled. Of course, just that you think he's attractive to begin with, but also because it clearly runs deeper at your constant embarrassment.

He probably also wouldn't know how else to flirt with you. But he's trying his best. Compliments don't come as easy to him as they do you, so this is how he expresses it.

Definitely an ego boost.

GALLY

He would be insulted.

Gally wouldn't take it as a compliment at first. He wants to be a tough guy and you calling him pretty feels like a insult to his masculinity.

Definitely not the intention.

You think he's soft? Pretty? How dare you. How could you?

It wouldn't be until he spoke to Frypan that he'd realise.

"They called me pretty. Pretty! Do I look like a shuckin' sissy?"

"Dude, I'm pretty sure it was a compliment- they think you're hot."

"Oh."

That's when he'd be flustered.

In private, of course, but flustered nonetheless.

He'd feel like such a dick for reacting how he did and without even processing it properly.

He'd end up apologising and you'd laugh about it.

"It's okay, I won't call you pretty again. Promise."

But now he knows you think he's attractive, he'd definitely be bummed that you said you wouldn't compliment him like that again.

"I mean- you can still... yanno- say that."

Turns out Gally actually kinda is a softie when he wants to be.

You find it cute.

FRYPAN

He would be ecstatic.

Oh my God, you think he's pretty? His life is complete. The world is good. Kill him now, this is the best day of his life.

He'd tell everyone who would listen.

"Yeah! They called me pretty! Suck it! I'm prettier than you slintheads!"

"Fry, I really don't care."

He'd constantly ask you to call him pretty again. Or even other compliments and you'd find it funny.

He'd be surprising hard to fluster, but very easy to please.

It wouldn't be uncommon to find him grinning from ear to ear after talking to you.

He would also have the courage to return the compliments, creating a friendship that's basically filled with constant praise.

He would worship the ground you walk on.

Thinks he's in love every time you make eye contact.

ALBY

"Yeah, okay."

Alby would not give a shit.

The man is stressed 24/7.

You can't really blame him. He's in charge of a bunch of teenage boys in a Maze full of monsters, and he has to make sure that everyone is comfortable and surviving.

He has too much on his plate to even realise what you'd be saying at first.

The brain lag is real, and it would be three days later when he'd understand what you said.

"Wait a shuckin' second..."

After that, he'd think about it a lot, internally kicking himself and regretting the choice.

You wouldn't be shocked. This is exactly the kind of response you'd expect from the Leader. But you almost said it because you knew what his response would be.

You wouldn't have to worry about Alby being weird or acting different or telling anyone.

Though, he would become a lot friendlier towards you, starting to develop a sweet spot for you.

Would ya look at that, I can actually write for characters other than Minho? Who woulda guessed? In all seriousness, this was really fun and I enjoy writing headcanons as much as I like writing stories. I really enjoy these typa requests, tysm for sending it in.

Hope you all enjoy :))

#🌿 petri writes tmr #🌿 petri writes #🍃 petri tmr #newt the maze runner #minho the maze runner #the maze runner #minho tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr thomas #tmr imagines #tmr minho #tmr x reader #thomas the maze runner #gally imagine #gally tmr

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mae-gi-writes · 13 days

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Arch-nemesis . Gally (themazerunner)

There's a thin line between love and hate, especially when it concerns Gally.

A/N: I've re-watched the three Maze Runner movies and now I'm obsessed and getting back onto the TMR fantrain so bear with me and the future fics I've already got saved in my drafts TT 3 TT ------

You hate him with all your heart.

Truthfully, honestly. There isn’t anyone you hate more than this stupid asshole that thinks that he’s the centre of the earth.

You met him only when he’d been brought in by Lawrence and a few of his other guys, having been there just for a few weeks prior. Thinking that this might be your chance to make a new friend, you’d sidled over to him with a small smile as you asked for his name. That didn’t go as smoothly as you thought when he just grunted out his name in response and turned away from you like you were a pest instead.

But it isn’t just that. It’s the way he says your name in that really aggravating tone that grates at your nerves. It’s the way he always insists it’s your fault when you’re out on missions and come back with no updates. It’s the way he bullies you and calls you names whenever your paths cross and it makes you want to gouge his eyes out. It’s enough to say that you know Gally now and you know exactly what he’s made of. That, and the fact that you’d stay far away from him as you possibly could if that was an option.

“You’re loading it up wrong shank-face,” he’d tell you as you were re-filling your gun.

“Shut up Gally, I’m doing it properly.”

“Don’t come crying to me when the gun doesn’t work.”

“It’s none of your business if it doesn’t work.”

“It is my business if you’re gonna—“

“Right that’s enough,” your mentor and leader called Jared had to step in, like he did numerous times, to get you to cool off. You’d storm away in a fit of annoyance and irritation, hating how easily Gally got under your skin.

It’s been a few weeks since weird sightings of stray immunes have circulated the area and in reply to this, Lawrence had set you up for a mission with Gally to scout the outer walls of the Last City. That had only caused you to grumble about the unfairness of the situation.

“Why do I have to go?” Your eyes narrow at the familiar tall figure lingering in your peripheral. Gally is busy setting up his weapons as you try to plead your case, seemingly uncaring about your protests, “and with him of all people? We don’t work well together Lawrence—“

“Everyone else is taken or busy with other tasks. Meaning that only you two are free,” Lawrence cuts you off without a hint of sympathy, “so either you do as you’re told or you can leave Y/N. As simple as that.”

In the end you have no choice but to abide by his rules, strapping up your weapons and defenses before Gally calls out your name. You turn just in time to catch the water bottle he sends your way, yelping in the process.

“You’re looking a little distraught, shank-face,” he smirks at you from where he stands loading up the provisions, “scared of what you’ll find out there? If you ain’t good enough, just don’t come and waste people’s time.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion, ugly brows.”

“I’m just worried you might slow me down. I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”

“I didn’t ask for one, now will you shut up and stop talking?”

“I’m surprised these two haven’t killed each other off yet,” murmurs one of Lawrence’s men.

“Killed or kissed you mean,” Jared lets out a chuckle.

These words are enough to cause the others to look at him with shocked faces, “what do you mean?”

“Isn’t it clear?” Jared motions towards the two currently bickering, “bet that by tomorrow night these two will get together.”

“I bet they last a week before they kiss.” Another says.

“Oh come on, I’m betting two weeks. Gally isn’t that type of guy.”

“What about me?” Gally’s voice causes them all to shut up, looking at him with guilty smiles and with shakes of their heads.

“Nothing to worry about Maze boy,” Jared flicks him off with a wave of his hand, “now off you go, both of you. And I expect some good news when you return.”

“Of any kind,” someone adds quietly, to which they all cackle.

You’ve toured the city a million times before in search of any kind of entrances that might lead to the inside, where all of Wicked laid. So it’s nothing out of your depth to follow Gally around as you survey the area and scout for more sources of information.

In all honesty, touring with Gally isn’t that much different from anyone else. On the contrary, Gally’s determined nature conjoined with his natural physical ability to excel just renders him an even more ideal battle partner. Not that you’ll ever tell him that. It will surely come bite you in the ass later when you least expect it.

You’re almost at the perimeter when you notice something off about one of the citizens. It’s a little girl, her face contorted in a grimace as she holds her hands in front of her tummy. For a moment, she sways in the middle of the crowd and you’re about to dismiss it, when another figure stalks in and takes a swipe at her with a stick.

The girl yelps as the stick hits her knees, crumbling to the floor like a sack of bones.

Before you know it, you’re sprinting towards her, anger flaring through your chest as your hands steady themselves on the gun. You barely hear Gally’s voice as you stumble in front of the kid just in time to point your weapon at the older man.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hiss at him.

The man’s eyes widen. He takes a step back, “no no, get away from her, you don’t understand—“

“Understand what? That you were going to beat her to death?” You click your gun into place, “nice try old man, now tell me—“

“Get away from her!” He yells at you, “she’s not normal! She’s—“

And a growl erupts from behind you. You swivel around in panic, eyes going wide upon noticing for the first time the dark patch close to her eyes.

The Flare.

The girl twitches. A small sob falls from her mouth. Your heart jumps to your throat, stumbling back half a step as weird animalistic noises echo from her mouth.

And then, she pounces.

You yell out something— you’re not too sure what — and are about to knock her on the head as she throws herself at you—

A bullet explodes on the right side of her brain and she falls to the ground like a puppet.

You stare at her for a minute. One more.

Your gaze slowly trails up to see familiar booted feet.

“What were you even thinking?”

Gally’s voice is usually deep. But this time, even you can’t stand up to the anger simmering in his voice. It’s dark and holds some kind of laced savagery that makes your toes curl in apprehension.

He takes your silence as guilt before grabbing onto your arm and roughly pulling you out of the crowd. He doesn’t stop and for once you don’t fight him, still not over the shock of seeing that poor girl’s face, the crazed look in her eyes. You’re so deep in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’re at your truck until Gally practically throws you against its side.

Your back digs into the metal and you grunt at the impact, the ache stinging your spine. But before you can do anything else, huge palms come to a rest on either side of your head.

Gally leans into you, so close that you can feel the heat radiate off him in waves.

“What the fuck was that about?” He growls, voice dropping even lower.

Somehow, it causes a shiver to run up your spine. Not one of fear, something else. Something that makes your stomach squeeze into knots.

“I—“ for once, you don’t seem to have any words. Instead your head turns away from Gally’s eyes as you bite down onto your lower lip, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” He scoffs, laughs to himself before his gaze hardens once more, “sorry for what Y/N? For almost getting yourself killed? Are you insane?! She could’ve literally infected you and you—“

“I didn’t know she was infected.” You tried to protest.

That seems to aggravate him even more, “You didn’t even bother to check!” His nostrils flare.

“Well I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it if you turn into one of those Cranks you stupid slinthead! You need to be more responsible! I literally turn away for one minute and you’re—“

“Oh stop exaggerating Gally. I was trying to protect her—“

“Yeah and look how that ended!”

You snap, “why are you so pissed? It was an accident and I already said sorry!”

“It’s not just that Y/N!” He yells with such emotion that his face flushes red, “What if I wasn’t there? What would you have done then?!”

“Why the fuck do you care? You wanted me gone—“

Your words cut off in mid-conversation when his large hands suddenly cup your face before pulling you in to crash his lips against yours.

Your eyes widen, brain freezing, as butterflies erupt through your stomach.

Wow.

Is this what a kiss is?

And this is Gally, kissing you like he means it.

It's almost like time has stopped.

Heart pounding, your body slowly melts against his. You’re in a trance-like state, watching yourself crumble under his fingertips that he places right under your jaw, his other hand sliding down to your hip to pin you in place.

The kiss is surprisingly gentle yet firm. His mouth moves slowly, hesitantly, almost like he fears breaking you. And yet, when you respond with a soft movement of your own, the rumble of his chest has your stomach squeezing with adrenaline.

You’re not too sure what’s happening. Here you are, with the world’s biggest dick, kissing him like he’s your lover when all you’ve ever wanted was to kick him in the face for being a class A asshole.

But it’s weird because this, however, feels so right. Like you’re meant to be locking lips, like he doesn’t want anyone else in his arms but you. And when he cages you in his hold with even more intensity it makes you gasp, causing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with an ease that has you parting like melted butter.

Slowly, your hands trail up to his chest, grabbing hold of his dark tunic and tugging slightly as his teeth suckle onto your bottom lip. A noise echoes from the back of your throat and he growls in response, pressing you even harder so that your head tilts back against the truck’s surface.

You need air at some point and so break away from him with a small gasp, chest heaving.

Gally doesn’t hesitate. He dives down to press a kiss to the side of your jaw, down your neck, imprinting his mouth over your skin over and over again in a way that has your body shuddering with delight. Big hand sliding down to the back of your neck to pull you even closer into him, the young man’s lips find a soft spot at your pulse point, causing a whine to fall from your lips at his action.

His chest rumbles in satisfaction and before you know it he’s back to kissing you. This time it’s more heated; mouths clashing and teeth clicking and tongues battling.

And then, the reality of the situation hits you straight in the face.

You freeze. What in the shucking world are you even doing?

You’re making out with Gally, right beside your truck. In broad daylight.

The thought alone makes your hands push him away and your lips disconnect with a small ‘pop’ sound.

You’re gasping for breath at this point, eyes wide as they flutter up to lock onto his own and you’re surprised at what you find there.

There’s some sort of softness, genuine care and something more, something darker that you can’t really put your finger on.

It makes you want him.

You want him.

Shuck’s sake.

“Y/N—“ Gally starts but you’re already moving out of his hold, slipping away from his warmth and suddenly it feels a little too cold.

You shake your head at him, decide it’s best to keep your eyes away as you open the door to the passenger seat, “let’s go. We have a mission to finish.”

You don’t want to talk about it.

————

It’s been days.

Days since the incident.

Days since you’ve been trying to get Gally out of your head.

You don’t understand why he’s having such an effect on you. Theoretically speaking, you should’ve bashed his head in and turned him over to Lawrence for sexual assault.

But you haven’t, and he’s also probably questioning why.

As a result, you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him. You wake up thirty minutes earlier to eat your breakfast so that you don’t have to bump into him at the table, you take the first errands that come to you — the boring ones like refilling tanks and getting the food supplies and guarding their premises. All that so that you don’t have to deal with Gally’s bullying.

Well, not that you’ve heard from him much either.

“What happened between you two?” Jared asks one evening as you help him move the supplies fresh from the last raid from the Last City.

“What?” You stare at him blankly, “what are you talking about?”

“You and Gally. You had a fight or something?”

“When are we not?” You snort, though you can’t deny the flush creeping up your neck as the memory of Gally’s body against yours resurfaces.

“Well I know you fight, but you’ve been ignoring each other.”

“And? Why is that a concern? Shouldn’t you be glad there’s less noise?”

“You’ve got a point I suppose.”

You don’t tell him it’s because you’re nervous of all the things that keep flashing through your head. You don’t tell him about how you keep on thinking of Gally’s mouth on yours, the lingering taste of him like a ghost along your lips. You don’t have to and you don’t want to, because you know that it’s going to entertain an idea far too surreal and ridiculous for you to think about.

It isn’t until a few days after your little mishap that Gally finds you in the storage room. You’ve woken up early to help the newest recruit unpack the food supplies just loaded into the main building dock, only to find out that he had this massive crush on you.

So you’ve been trying to bat him off all morning despite his most desperate attempts.

“Just give me a chance Y/N,” he says as he takes a box from your hands with a wink, “I promise I won’t make you regret it.”

You snort, “no thanks,” and turn back to keep unloading.

But he makes a grab for your hand. You yelp, pulling it out of his grasp, “what do you think you’re doing—“

“You think you’re so tough huh?” He makes another grab for your forearm this time and cages you into his grip. You try to wriggle out to no avail, his fingers squeezing so hard that you let out a cry of pain, “ow—“let me go, asshole.”

“Not until you agree.”

Your glare deepens, “I said no.”

He pulls you closer, stinky breath washing over your face and making you want to barf, “did I tell you how sexy you are when you try to act all tough and shit? I mean that’s literally—“

“Get your hands off her.”

He freezes. You do too. You recognize that voice. You could've recognized that anywhere. Your head tilts over.

Gally.

Oh.

Eyes widening at the sight, you quickly pull your arm away when the newbie drops it in shock.

“Move away,” Gally’s voice drops an octave and causes a string of butterflies to erupt through your chest, “now.”

The newbie frowns, “Who’re you to boss me around?”

“I said: Now.”

And maybe it’s the fact that Gally seems to straighten when he says it so it looks like he’s towering over the other boy, but the latter mutters a curse word under his breath and finally relents, throwing you a scowl in the process as he ducks out of the storage room.

You can’t help but lock eyes with your savior, though quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment as you resume stacking boxes after boxes. You hope that he’s just going to turn around and act ignorant, just like these past few days.

“Y/N.”

You don’t answer, resolutely trying your best to act busy.

“Y/N.”

Maybe it’s the way he says your name that makes you turn impulsively. Your eyes flit to his face, then look back down to his chest. A safer bet, “what?”

He takes a step closer, and another, and another. You swallow thickly, feeling your throat clog up with emotion as you stumble back against the boxes until no escape seems available.

Why is it that you’re always getting trapped by him?

“W—What is it?” You stammer out in hopes he can’t hear how wild your heart is beating, "What do you want?"

He lets out a soft sigh and seems to drop his shoulders in defeat, opening up his palms in a sign of defeat, "I just--I think we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Y/N--"

"No Gally," you whip around then with eyes narrowed into slits and your fists curled beside you, "if this is about what happened in the Last City, I don't want to talk about it. It was a stupid shucking mistake and--"

"Stop using Glader slang," he interrupts like a smart-ass and you all but growl at him in irritation, "it doesn't suit you."

"Oh shut up already," you whip around and decide that it's useless to try and have a civil conversation. You'd rather focus your energy on finishing off your task.

But seems that he's determined to bug you, for you feel the warmth of his hand imprint itself on your forearm before he's tugging you. Not too harshly, gently enough that you could've stopped if you wanted to.

You let yourself turn around, cursing inwardly at how the closeness between your two bodies is rendering you a little breathless, a little weak in the knees. He's so close that you have to tilt your head up to look at him, and what you see in his gaze makes your heart skitter.

"It wasn't," he murmurs, "a mistake."

"It was a mistake," you shoot back straightaway, "we can just forget about it--"

"I don't want to. I--" he clears his throat, looks away for a second. And when his eyes find yours once again you feel your breath catch in your throat because he's looking at you in a certain way. That way. With the same kind of tenderness that makes you want to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest and smell the earthly, Gally scent that had wrapped around you back when you'd kissed--

No.

You almost smack yourself, horrified. What in the world are you thinking?!

"I like you, Y/N." Gally’s voice jerks you back to reality, “I like you a shuck lot and—“

“Don’t,” you press a finger to his lips as you try desperately to put some distance between, shaking your head in horror, “no no, you don’t like me. You like me ‘cause I’m the only girl around here and it’s just your hormones talking—“

He shakes you off, “what are you on about?” He frowns before grabbing both your hands to cage them in his grip, “I know what I feel Y/N. Don’t tell me otherwise—“

“Gally please,” you scramble for coherent thought but logic is slipping away by the second. Even more so when he’s tugging you gently to him, even more when his face is a picture of softness and affection, “we hate each other’s guts—“

“I never said that.” He pauses to read your expression, fear suddenly flickering in his expression, “do you hate me?”

“I—“ the words get tangled in your mouth. You want to tell him you hate him, loathe him with all your heart and that you just want him gone and that you hates his kiss.

But you can’t.

Because it’s a lie, the truth is that you think your heart beats for him. You’re not sure since when, but that kiss had confirmed it surely enough: you like Gally more than you think you do. And that thought is terrifying.

You’re so close to him that if you let your hands drop they’ll brush against his chest, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your skin and the heat of his jody permeating to yours.

Ducking your head in embarrassment, you bite down onto your lower lip.

“Answer my question, Y/N.”

You swallow thickly, “I—I don’t know.”

Gally looks down at you still, not giving you the easy way out you would’ve preferred and you find yourself crumbling under his stare.

“No,” you whisper, “I don’t hate you.”

He shifts a little closer still, eyes flitting down to your lips in a silent question.

Your breath catches. Your mouth parts. His scent wraps around you like a soft cocoon.

And then you’re lifting yourself up to kiss him.

He makes a noise of surprise at the back of his throat and you grin to yourself, loving that you caught him off guard. But that doesn’t last, for his big hands quickly drop yours to wrap around your waist before pulling your body to his and kissing you like he hasn’t seen you in ages, like he’s missed you, like he wants to do this forever.

Gally, you soon realize, kisses with his entire intention, not leaving one part of your mouth untouched and adamant on making you go pliant in his hold. You allow yourself to back up as he prods you, until your back hits one of the storage boxes hazardly stacked one atop the other, and Gally doesn't hesitate to press his chest against yours as a soft moan echoes from the back of his throat.

As his lips curve against yours in the most intimate of manners, your hands seem to take on a life of their own as they travel up his chest, caress the broadness of his shoulders, before wrapping around the back of his neck and teasing the soft baby hairs found there. You feel him grinning into your mouth and soon enough you're grinning too, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath.

"Not bad at all," Gally murmurs, stealing a kiss from you and causing your face to flush deep red, "for someone who can't load a gun properly."

"I can too load my gun properly," you pinch him playfully and he responds with laughter.

That's when you hear your mentor's voice booming with surprise from the front entrance of the storage room:

"Well look what we have here! I told you guys they wouldn't last a week!"

144 notes · View notes

ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 2 years

Note

heyyyyy!! (i’ve never requested smt before so plz don’t mind my awkwardness) could you do smt with will poulter where he’s kinda subby (or not, lol it’s up to u), but he’s obsessed with eating reader out, and then they fuck? (also if u could like imply short!reader or thicc!reader (or both, yk) that would also be fantastic!).

anyways, i love ur work and tysm for writing!

Aw, you're not awkward at all! I'm honored I'm the first person you've requested a story from🥺👉🏻👈🏻💕 I kinda feel weird writing for Will at the moment, still kinda getting over the knowledge that he has a girlfriend now...i'm not jealous i swear😅 *cough*...anyway, so i'm making this Gally if that's okay? I've already gotten a Gally sub request so I thought this could knock out two birds with one stone

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), kinda sub!Gally, orgasm denial, oral (f and m!receiving), degradation, humiliation (if you squint), biting, femdom kindaa, one singular utterance of the word "mommy"🙈

3.6K Words🤙🏻

~~~~~~~~~~

Gally was the least submissive person you had ever known. You wanted to be the dominant one for once, but you never knew how to get him in that space because he never ever did. You had to get clever.

One of Gally’s favorite things to do was eating you out. The boy lived for it. So you thought that maybe taking that away from him for a while would get him desperate enough to submit to you, at least for a little bit.

You had hatched your plan. You had no idea if it would work, but it would have to. You were determined to not give him before he did, you knew you were stubborn enough.

The day was almost over, soon everyone would turn in after work, including Gally. You both had your own separate huts, you had no idea why considering he always snuck into yours almost every night. He practically lived with you. But that was all the more reason you felt comfortable enough to issue this challenge without fear of being stuck with him if it went wrong.

You laid down on your bed, discarding your clothes, your skin prickling with goosebumps from being exposed to the cool air. You were tingling with anticipation, your nipples hardening and perking up, moaning softly as you reached up to pinch them roughly. Running your hands down your curves to reach your mound, spreading your legs and running your fingers through your slicked up folds. You sighed as you rubbed slow and light circles on your aching clit, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning loudly.

Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest as you heard the faint sound of a door opening and closing. Gally was finally here. You smiled for a second before continuing to pleasure yourself, pretending you didn’t notice him come in.

“Now what do we have here?” You gasped as Gally suddenly appeared in your bedroom door frame, a wide mischievous smirk adorning on his face. “What makes you think you can do this without my permission, huh?” He teased, his eyes darkening as he feasted on the sight of you.

You swallowed, you could do this. “And what makes you think I need your permission?” You responded tremulously, your pussy already responding to Gally’s domineering attitude, his eyes narrowing at your comment. But nope, you weren’t going to give in that easily. You wanted to get your way.

Gally slowly sauntered over to you, but still staying a couple feet away, hovering over you intimidatingly. “Excuse me?” He spoke lowly, an amused smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “What are you up to, sweetheart? You want me to fuck you rough tonight, huh? I can do that.”

“No.” You quickly said, taking a deep breath. “The opposite actually.” He gave you a confused expression, stepping back as you got up from your bed, looking up at him with sultry eyes. “I want you to be my submissive tonight. I want you to obey my every command like a good boy. Understand?”

Gally looked you up and down before letting out a laugh, causing you to scowl. “Aw baby, it’s cute you think I could do something like that. But no, sorry. I don’t think that’s what you really want. Clearly, you’re trying to get me all riled up so I can fuck you until you beg me to stop. Right?” He took steps towards you and leaned down to kiss you, but you placed a hand on his chest to stop him before he could.

“I’m being serious, Gally.”

“I am too, baby.”

You refused to pout or sulk, you held your head up high as you could, keeping a small smirk on your face. “Have it your way, Gal. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You turned away from him and put on your overnight clothes.

“Oh, come on.” Gally huffed. “You’re really gonna be this stubborn about this? Seeing you touch yourself like that made me so hard for you, babe. I wanna ravish that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Sounds like a you problem.” You smiled tauntingly, motioning him to leave your hut.

“You really wanna play this game, huh?” Gally smirked. “Fine. I’ll play, cause I know I’m gonna win. In a few days, when you can’t give yourself an orgasm like I can, you’re gonna be on your knees begging for me to fuck you. If you give in now, I won’t tie you up and bring you to the edge just to stop over and over again. Deal?”

You scoffed. “No deal. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta finish what I started.” You blew him a kiss.

Gally frowned. “Game on, sweetheart. Game on.”

It was the first day of this game you started. After having a wonderful night’s sleep after making yourself come a couple times, you woke up with a smile, excited for the day. You hummed to yourself as you got ready for work, greeting everyone you walked by as you headed further into camp. It was perfect timing because you got to work with Gally this week, after some convincing with Vince. You usually cooked with Fry or helped out in medical, but you needed this to happen in order for things to go your way. You were a Builder in the Glade so it worked out.

As you helped saw some wood, you suddenly felt a hand on your hip and warm breath on your neck. “Come to your senses yet, sweetheart?” Gally teased, his grip on you tightening. “Were you even able to make yourself come last night, baby? It must’ve been frustrating.”

You turned around quickly, a prideful smirk on your face. “Actually, I made myself come twice after you left. I enjoyed myself very much, and got excellent sleep too.” You shoved him out of the way so you could leave to get more wood. But Gally grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him.

“Come on, Y/n. Don’t do this. I know you wanna prove a point but it’s no use. You’re never gonna get me to sub.”

You shrugged. “Oh well.” You looked down at your wrist. “Let go, please?”

Gally sighed as he released his grip from you, rolling his eyes as he tried to shift his focus back on work.

You felt Gally’s eyes on you the whole day, frowning or scowling whenever you stole a glance at him. It just made you giggle. You had no problem with getting him frustrated, you knew no matter how far you pushed him, he’d never force you to do anything even if you were teasing him.

It was night and you sat on your bed reading a book, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt. The door to your hut opened and you put down your book, anxious to see if Gally was ready to submit to you yet. He walked in your room with a smug expression. Welp, there goes that hope. “Still continuing this silly game?” He asked.

“I don’t find it silly.” You smirked, spreading your legs to reveal your glistening pussy underneath your extra large shirt, sliding the end of the shirt up your thighs to reveal more. “Frankly, I’m enjoying this more than I thought I would.” You teased your entrance in front of Gally, whose eyes were fixed on your fingers going in and out of your cunt, a tent forming in his pants already.

“Do you wanna be able to walk in the morning?”

“You’re not fucking me, Gally. Not tonight. Not until I get what I want.”

Gally groaned, frowning for the umpteenth time that day. “Seriously? You can’t touch yourself in front of me expecting me not to fuck you? You can’t do this.”

“Watch me, sweetheart.”

Day two and you were starting to believe you actually had a chance of winning this game. Gally looked like a kicked puppy last night. You were surely giving him blue balls by now, but you were still keeping your pussy happy and satisfied every night without him. Honestly, from the looks of it, it was more of a punishment for him than it was for you. You could go without sex, for the sake of a challenge of course. Most of the time, Gally was on you like a dog in heat, so you were pretty positive that you could outlast him.

You almost felt sorry for him as you saw him in the morning. He looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep, he had bags under his eyes and he looked unkempt. If that was all from a lack of sex, you started to think it was a problem and maybe this was good for him. But he could put all that suffering to an end if he just gave in. Oh well.

“How was your night?” You asked as you sat together during lunch.

Gally scoffed as he picked at his food. “Fine. Yours?”

“Really good.” You smirked, running your finger through your plate and slowly licking the food off your finger while keeping eye contact with Gally, sucking on the digit before releasing it with a pop. “Mm, Fry’s gotten better at cooking, wouldn’t you say?” You jumped slightly as Gally pushed his plate away and stormed off to his hut, rolling your eyes as you followed him after a few minutes.

You entered his hut without knocking, walking into his room to see him jerking himself off on his bed, but stopping as soon as you walked in. “Aw, is someone frustrated?” You giggled. “Please, continue. Don’t let me stop you. I’ve been getting off every night, so you should be too.”

“It…it’s not the same.” He huffed in annoyance, stuffing himself back in his pants. He stood up and walked to you, gently caressing your face. “Please, Y/n, let me fuck you. I’m gonna go crazy if I can’t soon. Let me eat you out at least.”

You smiled sympathetically, leaning up and standing on your tiptoes to give him a passionate kiss, the simple act eliciting a moan from Gally. “Of course you can, baby. But first…get on your knees.” You said as you pulled away.

“What?” He stuttered.

“You heard me. On. Your. Knees.” You smiled sweetly.

Gally groaned loudly, turning away from you and punching a wall. “Fuck sake.”

“I suppose that’s a no then?” You frowned. “Guess I’ll leave you to your business then.” That night Gally didn’t even come to your hut, you were left to yourself and your own fingers yet again.

Two more days passed and Gally had decided he wasn’t even going to talk to you, trying not to even look at you because if he looked at you then he’d get horny and he wouldn’t be able to relieve himself like he would want to. You were doing perfectly though. You were proud of getting work done and you didn’t go a night without being satisfied. It was quite lovely. Though you did start to worry about Gally and…well, his dick. He still looked like he never got sleep which was more concerning. You started to wonder if you should quit this game…

You were almost done reading a book as you heard a knock on your door. Curious who it could’ve been, you put some pajama pants on to cover what your oversized shirt couldn’t. You furrowed your brows when you opened the door to see Gally on the other side. “You didn’t have to knock.” You giggled. “Thought you were someone else.”

“Can I come in?” He asked nervously.

“Uh, yeah, of course.” You allowed him in and shut the door, turning around to see him with tears brimming his eyes. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I…I haven’t been able to make myself come…since you stopped letting me have sex with you. Every time I try, no matter how long I jerk off, I can’t fucking come.” He ranted, his fists clenched at his sides. “I need you, baby. I need you to make me come.”

You felt sorry for him, but you still gave him a look that told him you still weren’t going to let up.

Gally sighed shakily, slowly lowering himself to his knees. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes. “Please…” He whispered, looking up at you pitifully.

You smiled softly, leaning down to kiss him, bringing him back up on his feet. “It’s okay, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” You led him to your bed, slowly lifting up his shirt and almost drooling at this sight of him. “So handsome…Undress me.” You ordered, Gally eagerly lifting up his hands to remove your shirt. “Slowly.” You scolded.

You weren’t wearing a bra, so your tits bounced freely as Gally lifted and removed the shirt, letting out a shaky exhale as he finally saw your breasts for the first time in almost a week. “Fuck, baby…” He breathed as he started to lean down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, but you stopped him.

“Relax. Lay down.” Gally did as you asked reluctantly, huffing silently as he laid down, awaiting your next move. He hummed as you ran your hands up and down his naked torso, kissing down his abs and biting down occasionally, unbuckling his pants and pulling them and his underwear down his legs. His cockhead was a bright red, twitching against his stomach and the tip leaking precum that puddled onto his happy trail. “My poor baby, all this time without being able to relieve yourself? Must’ve been so miserable.” Gally moaned loudly as you licked a stipe up the underside of his cock. Then, a noise you’ve never heard from him escaping his lips, a whimper. You actually made Gally whimper. You chuckled. “You could probably come so easily right now, huh? Want me to do that? Make you come? Want me to drain your cock all night?”

“God, fuck yes.” He panted, his face flushed red almost resembling the tip of his cock.

You took his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head very slowly, making Gally moan pitifully. It wasn’t even a couple minutes of sucking him off that he spilled into your mouth, various curses and groans leaving his mouth as he bucked into you. “Wow, you didn’t last long at all. Bad boy.”

“I-I’m sorry…it just felt so good.”

You hummed in disapproval. “I suppose you could make it up to me. Would you like that? Wanna make me feel good too?” He nodded vigorously, leaning forwards to kiss you roughly but you quickly stopped that. “Lay back down.” You crawled on top of him, making your pussy hover over his face. “You’ve made me so wet, baby. See how wet you’ve made me from obeying me like this?” Gally tried to lean up to taste you, but you kept a knee on his shoulder, making him stay put. “Beg to eat my pussy.”

Gally blinked up at you in surprise. It was weird, usually you were the one to beg him. Oh, how the tables have turned. “Please, Y/n…” He whispered.

“Please, what?” You smirked.

“Please, baby, let me eat you out. I wanna taste you so bad. I need to taste you.” He finally begged and you moaned in pleasure before he even did anything to you. You lowered yourself down onto his face and crying out as he quickly devoured you, licking up and down your folds and focusing his tongue to play at your clit.

“Fuck, Gally.” You moaned, bucking your hips against his face, grabbing onto his hair tightly as you rode him. “Feels so good, baby. You’re making me feel so good.” You groaned as he started teasing your entrance with his tongue, sinking in and making your wall clench around him. “Yes…” You whispered, leaning back to stroke his cock, his moans sending soft vibrations into your pussy. “Getting hard again already?” You chuckled breathlessly. “Poor baby’s been so deprived, huh?"

You gasped loudly as Gally traveled back to your clit, sucking and licking on it mercilessly. You felt those shocks of pleasure shoot throughout your entire body, making you writhe and squirm on his face, allowing your body to give in to this primal force inside you. “Oh fuck, baby. I’m so close. Make me come, make mommy come, baby.” You squealed, riding Gally’s face harder with abandon, desperate to reach that peak.

You finally let out a strangled moan as you came on Gally’s tongue, lightning bolts of euphoria traveling through your veins and causing goosebumps to rise all over your body, your nipples hardening almost painfully as you rode out your orgasm. It was so all encompassing that your vision went hazy for a split second. You then shakily moved off of Gally’s face, a proud smile on his face. “So fucking talented.” You smirked, kissing him, tasting yourself on his lips. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

“Please…” He whispered breathlessly.

“That’s a good boy, using your manners.” You saw Gally lick his lips as you hovered over him, lining his cock up with your soaked entrance, groaning loudly as you finally sunk down on him. “I only have one rule: you can fuck me, but don’t touch me, let me ride you.” That made him frown, but his lips quickly formed an o shape as you started to bounce on his dick.

You scowled as you felt Gally’s hands reach up and grope at your breasts, but you quickly slapped them away and pinned them on each side of his head. “What did I fucking say?” You scolded, your angry tone almost scaring yourself, but you put on a dark smile. “Baby? What did I tell you, hm?”

“Not to touch you…”

“Exactly, so why did you disobey me?”

“I just…I needed to feel you, to hold you.” He looked so soft, so vulnerable, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

You heard Gally whine as you got off of him, looking at you in hurt curiosity as you grabbed his belt from the floor. “To make sure you don’t disobey me again.” You snapped the belt, making him flinch. “Hands together for me, above your head.” You were almost surprised when he listened to you immediately, allowing you to tie both his hands together with his own belt. “You look so pretty like that.” You chuckled softly, kissing him before sinking back on his cock. “Now, behave, my love.”

“Fuck…” Gally moaned, his hands balled into fists and his head thrown back in pleasure, giving you easy access to bite the sensitive flesh on his neck. “Baby…” He whimpered, unable to stop himself from bucking up into you.

“God, it’s like your cock was made for me.” You moaned as he thrusted up against that special spot inside you, the faintest beginning of another orgasm starting to build in your core. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come again.” You chuckled breathlessly.

“Let me touch you.” Gally whined. “Please. I need to touch you.” At that point, you were too fucked out to continue being harsh and demanding with him, and you wanted to feel his hands on you too. You unlatched the belt, his hands immediately finding your love handles and squeezing roughly, the bruising pain mixing with the pleasure creating a lovely sensation.

You were mumbling sweet nothings incoherently, your mind clouded due to being on the precipice of another orgasm and Gally was right there with you. Your hands were on his chest, surely leaving bright red scratch marks, but also making sure he stayed put. Gally’s hands traveled all over your body, varying from slapping and kneading your ass, groping your breasts, and holding on to your hips. You squealed when he lowered his hand to rub your clit, amplifying the pleasure, giving you exactly what you needed to finally send you over that edge with him. You looked into each other’s eyes as you came together, your eyes glazing over with tears as Gally’s closed his tightly, spasming beneath you as he released inside you.

You and Gally both let out breathless laughs as you came down from your highs, you pulling off and plopping down beside him on the bed. A part of you thought that this was all a dream, had you actually pulled off turning Gally into a sub? You almost considered pinching yourself, until his laugh from beside you forced you back into reality. “What?” You asked with a somewhat nervous chuckle.

Gally smirked. “Mommy?” He raised an eyebrow and you instantly blushed.

“It just came out…”

“Uh huh.” He snickered before you lightly slapped his arm with a pout. “I’m not judging, thought it was kinda cute.”

You scoffed. “Cute, ha. Yeah, I’ll never say it again. Are you okay though? I wasn’t too rough on you, was I?”

Gally smiled, turning over on his side and giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose. “You were perfect.”

“Did you…like it?”

He pondered for a moment, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “Maybe a bit more than I thought I would. It was very different, obviously. I enjoyed that you enjoyed it, didn’t know you could be so mean.” He teased with a smirk, running a hand up and down your arm. “It was sexy.”

You smiled hopefully. “So does that mean I can dominate you more often?”

Gally rolled his eyes playfully. “Maybe on special occasions.” Then his eyes turned dark, suddenly hovering his body above you, one of his hands gripping your neck gently. “I gotta say, that little game you played this week, you know you’re gonna be paying for that, right?”

You smirked. “That’s also what I was hoping for.”

~~~~~~~~~~

BONK🔨BONK🔨, HORNY JAIL 💦🔫

#the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #the maze runner smut #the maze runner fanfiction #tmr gally #gally fanfic #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally #gally x fem!reader #gally smut

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funnyexel · 1 month

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Short Stories

A little cuddle session (Gender/Sexuality Friendly)

Potential Yandere x Abused Fem!Reader

Quiet Tsundere x Reader

Yandere Villian x Identified Female Reader

I’ve Missed You Beloved (Jack Sparrow x Gender Neutral Reader)

Newt Scamander x Black Female Reader (Oneshot)

Afraid of My Words (Request : Billy Loomis x Black Female Reader)

Give Yourself To Me (August Walker x Black Female Reader)

Second Chance (Gally x Black Female Reader)

Lets Play a Game (Albert Shaw x Black Female Reader)

A Routine (Brahms x Black Female Reader)

Yandere Blurbs

he's obsessed (yandere blurb)

loves you. hates them. (yandere blurb)

a thrill ride of obsession (yandere blurb)

its the stalker (yandere blurb)

missing items (yandere blurb)

what if your stalker loses the remaining piece of human decency he has left (yandere blurb)

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rainydaydreamsideblog · 2 days

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(The Maze Runner) Imagine: He Protects You

It can be dangerous, especially for the only girl in the Glade.

Warnings: Guys being creeps in the Glade (nothing graphic), bullying, the Maze, danger.

. . .Thomas. . .

It’s a beautiful evening in the Glade. You’re walking straight along the treeline on your way to run a final errand for Alby at the end of the day. The sun is no longer visible, as it already descended far enough to be blocked by the walls.

Suddenly, you get the creeps. It was hard to explain, but you feel goosebumps bloom along your skin, and you get the distinct feeling that you’re not alone. The lovely glow of the bonfire is in your field of vision, but it’s so far away. It’s where most of the guys are gathered. You can hear their distant whoops and hollers, reminding you that help is far away too.

A twig snaps, and your suspicions are confirmed. There’s a figure following several feet behind you, lurking in the shadows cast from the trees above.

So, you veer off your original path to draw closer to the homestead where there would hopefully be someone who hadn’t made it to the bonfire yet. Whoever it was must have caught on to what you were doing because they instantly pick up their pace. You begin to hurry, increasing your speed so that they can’t catch you before you make it to what you hope will be a haven of safety.

Your heart is pounding, and your chest heaving with panicked breaths as you finally make it to the homestead.

“Hello?” you call frantically.

Suddenly, Thomas appears. He sees your nervous state immediately, his hand taking yours. But then his eyes lock onto something behind you, and he moves right past you to intercept your pursuer, effectively blocking them from you.

“What’s going on?” he demands. Your follower is frozen to the spot, stuttering, failing miserably to offer up some sort of explanation. Thomas steps forward, towering over the guy. It’s plain to see that he is furious. His forearms flex and his jaw is clenched. You can hear his angry breaths as he speaks again. “That’s what I thought. Now, get out of here.”

As soon as the guy is gone, Thomas turns around to face you. His close presence eases your fearful state when he steps into your space, filling your nose with his scent. “You okay?” he asks gently.

You manage a nod.

“We’re going to tell Alby right away. This isn’t going to happen to you again. Come here…” He carefully pulls you into his arms for an embrace, as if you’ll break apart if he’s too sudden. You bury your face in his chest, breathing a sigh of relief. His heartbeat is close to your ears, like a lullaby.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

. . . Newt . . .

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The teasing, the taunts… The inability of certain individuals to just leave you alone. Ever since you’d rejected him, Allan had made it his life’s mission to make your existence in the Glade all the more difficult.

Most recently, he had purposely bumped into you at lunchtime so that your meal was spilled all over your clothes and onto the ground. Resources were limited in the Glade. It was understood that wastefulness wouldn’t be tolerated. You couldn’t afford to lose food or have clothing ruined. Fortunately, your clothes would be fine after a wash, but the discarded food was a different story.

You dab at your tank top with a washcloth and pause to look at your reflection in the mirror. It was all too easy to recall how quickly you’d reached your limit after Allan’s ridiculous ploy. Your face is still wet from crying, eyes puffy, and lips parted as you took deep breaths.

There’s no use crying over spilled milk, you thought. Or in my case, spilled lunch.

After composing yourself, you decide it’s time to go back out there and face the music. You toss the damp rag aside and march determinedly out of the empty washroom. To your surprise, you smack right into another individual coming in. You instantly recognize the blonde hair and grumbles of complaint as he reels from the collision.

“Oi, shank, watch where you’re going-” Newt quickly realizes it’s you and clamps his mouth shut, extending his hands to each of your shoulders to steady you gently. He takes in the sight of your tear-stained face with his eyes showing clear concern. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

“Oh, just… Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Newt looks far from convinced, and you lower your gaze. He’s about to inquire further, but a familiar voice sounds from outside the washroom.

“Hey, _______!” Allan calls tauntingly, making you freeze up. “How’s it going in there?”

Newt’s eyes instantly flash, and his face scrunches up anger. You can hardly believe it when Allan continues.

“Sorry about my clumsiness earlier. Maybe I can make it up to you. Come on out before I go in there!”

Newt can’t contain himself anymore. He turns on his heel and heads out of the washroom, and you follow behind just to see the look on Allan’s face when he realizes he’s been caught.

It is so worth it. Allan’s stupid grin falls hard into a look of horror as the Second-in-Command approaches him furiously. He doesn’t lay a hand on him, but he looks like he’s awfully close when he jabs a pointer finger in his direction.

“If I ever catch you bothering her, or even breathing in her general direction again, you’ll be a permanent Slopper for the rest of your time here in the Glade. Do you understand, shank?”

Allan nods quickly, and doesn’t even wait to be dismissed. He just hurries away, leaving you and Newt both standing there watching him flee.

“Coward,” he mumbles. Then, Newt turns to you, resting a hand on your arm in a comforting gesture. “I mean it, you know. He’ll never bother you again.”

. . . Minho . . .

It’s hard not to panic when you glance up and can no longer see the sun above you. It’s the end of the day, and you’re nearly out of time. The lightning pain that shoots through your ankle suddenly just becomes too much. You lean against one of the ivy-covered walls and exhale.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it,” you say aloud, and the words weigh heavily on you. You mentally scold yourself. You can’t afford to think that way. A Runner knows better. With a wince, you continue limping on your way. It’s not that the exit from the Maze isn’t close. If memory serves you right (which it did), it wasn’t too far at all… but at your pace, it would take a lot of effort and some good luck to get you back in time.

Just when you are about to give up again, you hear footsteps rapidly approaching. Your first thought is that perhaps your cowardly companion had a change of heart, but the footsteps didn’t match.

“Hello?” you call.

“_________!” Minho’s voice responds, and your heart swells with hope. You aren’t out of the woods just yet, but your chances were much better with help. Minho nearly slides to a stop in front of you, instantly taking your arm and putting it around his broad shoulders to help you up. There is no time to stop and compare notes, so you update him as he begins helping you back along the path.

“I sprained my ankle.” You hold onto Minho like he’s your lifeline as you push through the pain to keep up with his pace. He’s right to go so fast. Time is running out.

“Where’s Derek?” he asks with a grunt.

“He…he left me,” you gasp in pain. “I think he was worried he wouldn’t make it out in time if he helped me.”

Minho goes quiet for a moment, and you can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His eyes are focused straight ahead at the path, and he huffs. Finally, he bites out a sarcastic comment. “I think it’s safe to say that he’s getting demoted from being a Runner.”

You keep talking, trying to distract the both of you from the familiar groan of the Maze walls shifting. “Why did you come out here?”

“Because it was getting late in the day, and no one had seen you,” he pants. “Usually, you check in with me right away. I knew something had to be wrong.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

You continue limping with all your might toward the gate, feeling your heart jump, as the walls on either side begin their agonizingly slow crawl to a close. There’s a small group standing on the other side, ushering you both out anxiously. It was mostly Keepers, a select few who had been informed of the problem by Minho.

The two of you fell onto the green grass, gasping for breath, while the others surrounded you. Alby knelt down beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder. You just let yourself breathe, tears welling up in your eyes from relief.

“So it’s true?” Gally questioned, brows raised. “Derek left her in there.” “Yes,” Minho replied, sitting up. “And he will face the consequences.” He looked over at you, finally catching his breath. “You’re safe now.”

. . . Gally . . .

James had been haunting your steps for far too long. He was always there, always hanging around, and sometimes showing up at the most alarming of instances. What could be done about it? It wasn’t as if he’d taken severe enough action to warrant disciplinary measures, you thought. He was only ever seen staring at you, smirking, and just being an all-around jerk at times.

This time, he’d snatched your tools away from your working station while your back was turned. After uncovering a particularly tough old root, you turned around to get a spade to chop it up, only to see that your things were gone.

A few laughs caught your attention, and you glanced over to see James and one of his shadows standing there, staring at you from several feet away. You couldn’t say for certain, but it seemed like they had something to do with your missing tools.

So, now you’re debating with yourself on the best course of action. Do you ignore him and try to rustle up some extra tools from Newt or Zart? Or do you bother to give this shank the attention he’s so desperately seeking to get your stuff back?

You don’t really like the latter option. Frankly, James gives you the creeps. The last thing you want is to play his little game… But every minute that you spend deliberating is wasted time that could be put towards helping the Glade.

As much as you despise indulging him, you find yourself marching right over to his work area. Both James and his minion are laughing in amusement, shoving each other at the sight of you approaching.

“Do you know where my tools went?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I might,” James replies cryptically. “And I might be willing to strike up a bargain for that information.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “What could you possibly want?”

“Ohh, I don’t know…Perhaps a kiss will do.”

You make a face as the disgust hits you. “Seriously?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a ‘no’ for me.” You wave off the concept, turning around. You decided that your best bet is to find some spare tools. This just wasn’t worth all the trouble. Just as you start to leave, James comes running around to block you.

“Hey now, I didn’t say you could go.”

“Yeah, you might want to think about his offer,” James’ lackey said from behind you. The two of them close in, and you clench your fists in preparation to fight. If you make enough commotion, you’re sure that someone will notice and come to your aid.

You give him one last chance. “Let me pass.”

“Come on, just one kiss. Unless you want more than one after that-” to your relief, James is cut off by a new voice interjecting.

“What’s going on here?” The three of you turn to see Gally standing there, sweating from whatever project he was working on,with dirt and wood shavings on his clothes. His expression looks expectant as he waits for an explanation, though his tall and bulky form makes him appear positively dangerous as he stares the two guys down with his hands resting on his hips.

“I, uh.. We…” They break off in stutters and fumbled words.

“I’m fairly certain they have my tools,” you say, and Gally’s famous arched brows raise at the two guys in disbelief.

“Is that so?” As Gally walks forward, he plants his palms harshly on James’ shoulder, shoving him clear out of the way. James stumbles unceremoniously, almost falling straight into the grass. Gally walks over to the bench and pauses. He picks up a bundle of leather and tosses it to you, the tools rattling inside. “Are those yours?”

You recognize it immediately. “Yes, these are the ones.”

“You shanks had better never even speak to her again. Understand?” He stares at each of them pointedly with all the authority of a Keeper, and they both nod. With that, Gally walks up to you and ushers you away with a warm, gentle hand on your back protectively.

“Your timing was impeccable,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

“They won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I think you already have,” you chuckle.

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arcadian-litterateur · 3 months

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sick of kissing you in my head (when can it be real instead?) | modern au!gally x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: your boyfriend, gally, is across the country, and despite the struggles a long distance relationship can bring, your love is strong enough to carry you through the long distance season of your relationship. but spending your birthday without him is different than spending normal days separated, and you know deep down that nothing will make you happy on your birthday when he’s all you need.

word count: 8k holy—i really didn’t even realize how long this was till i checked the wc omg

warnings: emotional meltdown, mention of anxiety and anxiety meds, brief mention of panic attacks

a/n: hey guys! i love love love the song this is based off of: all i need (the distance song) by avery lynch. it's such a good song. this was supposed to just be fluff about visiting your bf gally, and then it turned into a whole thing lol. so yeah, i hope you guys enjoy this long ass one shot. i really really enjoyed writing it.

“𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥.”

𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 onto my side, legs brushing against my sheets, I smile at the FaceTime call on my phone, but it's bittersweet. On the other end of the video call sits my boyfriend, the soft smile on his face mirroring my own. From where he sits, I can see the San Francisco skyline out his hotel window, highlighted by the rising sun.

“I miss you,” I mumble, studying the lines and contours of his face and wondering if they've changed since the last time I saw him in person. If I've missed any change; any detail while we've been separated. If anything has changed or tipped the balance since we've been apart.

I'm not insecure in my relationship with Gally, but be long distance for enough time and everyone gets in their head about it. Catches themselves wondering; doubting.

“I miss you more every time we have to part,” I add, watching the bitter take over the sweet in my boyfriend's eyes for a few seconds before he replies.

“I know, baby, I know.” His gaze wanders into the space between the atoms, his mind leaping forward into the future as he assures both me and himself, “Once my contract with WCKD Enterprises is up, I'll be able to move back to Denver. We'll be back in the same city.”

My smile is tired, only half there, and Gally knows it. It's been months since I've held him in my arms. This long distance routine is wearing us both out. We're both running out of steam—not for each other; not for our relationship, but for the complexity that being long distance has brought to our relationship. Conflicting schedules, spotty internet, the deprivation of physical contact with the person we crave it from the most…it's all beginning to pile up, and we both know it.

In an attempt to change the subject, I ask, “When is your flight back to Chicago again?” I already know, but I'm not sure what else to say, and besides, it's always good to check.

“Your birthday,” comes the cheeky reply, my eyes rolling of their own accord as I secretly admire the handsome grin on my boyfriend's face. But all too soon, his grin fades.

“I'm sorry I can't be there for your birthday,” he says gently. I wave him off, assuring him that I'll be just fine.

“Bren, Tes, and Sony are planning something. Won't tell me what, though.” I sigh before admitting, “It won't be the same without you. But your work's important.” Gally smiles gratefully, but there's cracks in the smile, and my stomach sinks. Guilt over my last comment settles in my digestive tract. “Sorry,” I mumble.

“No, no, don't apologize,’’ Gally says quickly. “You're allowed to be sad that I can't be there.” His amiable grin morphs into a scowl, “Tried to get Janson to give me the time off, I really did. But that rat wouldn't do it.” I give Gally what I hope is a reassuring smile.

“It's okay, babe.” We fall into silence, not necessarily comfortable, but not bad either, before Gally interjects,

“It'll be nice to be in my own apartment, though. I'm getting sick of all these Californian hotels. I'll be glad to be home, smog and noisy L-trains galore.” I chuckle, knowing that Gally loves Chicago because of its quirks, not in spite of them.

Still, Denver has always been home to me. But Gally and I've decided to cross that bridge when we get to it. We've got enough to think about as it is.

I'm trying to come up with another conversation topic, since I don't have work until later today, but unfortunately, Gally isn't so lucky. It’s the perks of working from home as a crisis hotline counselor, I guess. The hours aren’t as demanding, since the work itself is.

“Shoot, I have to go,” he hisses. “I'm sorry, princess. I'll call you tonight?” I nod, forcing myself to look forward to tonight's call, rather than be sad that this one is ending. “Alright, good that,” Gally grins. “I love you, babe!”

“I love you, Gal,” I smile and wave goodbye. The half-baked grin melts right off my face once he's hung up. Gosh, I miss him so much.

There's only so much comfort a video call can give.

Teresa calls me soon after Gally hangs up, blabbering on and on about a date she'd had with some guy named Ben, but I can't focus on her stories like I normally would. Usually, I'm all in to hear my friend's tales, but my mind is still fixated on the miles separating Gally and I. Something in me wonders how much longer we'll be able to go without holding each other. How much longer we can stand to be separated.

When we first started dating, I could have gone months, as long as we were still interacting. But as my love for Gally increased, the length of time I could stand to be without him decreased.

I'm fully, unashamedly in love with Gally now, and part of me wonders what I would do to be living in the same place as him. To be in his arms for good. The easy answer—the most raw answer—is anything. I'd do anything for him.

“(Y/N)?” Teresa's voice brings me out of my thoughts, her suspicious tone confirming that she's noticed my lack of focus today. “You weren't listening, were you?” To an outsider, her tone might sound harsh; reproachful, even, but I know her too well. She's not mad. Just annoyed she'll have to repeat her story if she wants me to hear it.

“I'm sorry,” I mumble, and it's sincere. I am sorry that I lost focus. But I don't apologize for pining after my faraway boyfriend. There's no reason to, for one, and two, I won't ever apologize for thinking of him. For missing him.

Teresa is grinning at my distracted tone, I can tell. Even through the phone, I can tell. “You're good. Dreaming about your bae, aren't you?”

I don't hesitate to admit, “Yes. I miss him more than I thought was even possible.” I hear Teresa's hum from the other end of the phone.

“You need to see him,” she declares. I scoff.

“Believe me, I know, and we're trying to figure out when he can next visit, but we're both just so busy.” Teresa clucks her tongue, the sound distorting oddly through the phone speaker. I imagine it running across the telephone poles, through the wires, twisting and bending and knotting out of shape as it flies all the way to me.

“I didn't mean like that, (Y/N). You need to go see him.” I chuckle, I wish I could.

“He's busy, Tes. Besides, he isn't even in Chicago right now,” I reason. This doesn't deter her.

“Well, when will he next be in Chicago?”

“His flight's on my birthday.”

“That's perfect!” Teresa squeals.

“How is that perfect?” I huff.

“You can fly out and spend your birthday with him! Surprise him!”

I actually laugh at this. “Um, no, I can't. I don't have the kind of money to just throw down for plane tickets. Besides, weren't you, Brenda, and Sonya planning something?”

“Well, yeah, but we could always change plans if we needed to,” Teresa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. On any other day, I would entertain this kind of silly daydreaming, but today, I already felt lonely enough.

“Sorry, Tes. Those spontaneous decisions are not my cup of tea,” I sigh, and I think she can tell I'm shutting the conversation down. She lets it go, and I thank her silently, forcing the ache in my heart left by Gally's absence to venture to the back of my mind. If I waste the day away, it'll be evening again, and then he'll call, just like he said.

And so despite the fact that I know wasting the days away is bad for me, I do it anyway. Just today, I tell myself. Just today.

Of course, I know I'll do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and all the hours in between my calls with Gally. It's ridiculous, how they all say having space helps one think clearer, when having space just distracts me by making me miss him that much more.

When he's gone, I'm reminded that much more that he's all I need.

_______________________________

𝗜𝗧’𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 p.m. by the time Gally calls, his eyes lighting up when he sees me despite the exhausted, burnt out look on his face. I'm equally as ecstatic as he is to revel in the gaze of my lover, both of us simply brushing every inch of each other's faces with our eyes, memorizing each other for the millionth time. It won't be the last time, either. I could never get tired of scanning my gaze across his skin, memorizing every inch of his beautiful face.

In our current situation, it's the closest I can get to kissing every inch of his beautiful face.

Gally is the first to break the silence, and I'm okay with it. He's the one who's had a long day. He knows what he needs to talk or not talk about. I just love hearing his voice.

“How was your day, baby?” he asks, a tired sort of happiness seeping into his voice. Like I'm giving him some kind of rest just by smiling at him.

“It was good. Uneventful.” I shrug, knowing that I'd barely moved from the chair I occupied now. “The real question is, how was your day, my love?”

Gally grins at the pet name. He always does. It's the same reaction that I have whenever he uses terms of endearment on me. It's our own personal love language of sorts. How many different ways can I call you mine?

“My day was okay,” Gally says quietly, sighing when he sees the look on my face. The one that tells him to lay it on me; rant if it'll make him sleep better tonight. “Well, it was…mediocre,” he amends, running a hand through his short hair. “Tim was being an ass. As always.” I nod sympathetically, understanding the deep hatred he harbors for his coworker.

Why Gally doesn't like Tim, I'm not exactly sure, but I know it has something to do with taking credit for a project that Gally did all the work on. It resulted in a harsh lecture from their boss for Gally, who was presumed to have slacked off, and a promotion for Tim.

Anyone who knows Gally knows that he would never slack off. He takes duty and work seriously; more seriously than anyone else I've met, in fact. I know my boy. He wouldn't hurt his company's productivity, even if his boss is an asshole like Janson.

“I'm sorry Tim was giving you trouble, baby,” I croon, watching the aches and tension of the day seeping out of his stiff shoulders at the sound of my voice. His smile weaves its way back onto his face. It's a soft, vulnerable smile, the one that makes me want to take him in my arms and just hold him like the precious treasure he is.

“I wish I could hug you,” Gally groans, rubbing his chin with his fingers before trying to regain his composure. “Sorry…I don't mean to bring everything up again. I just…I just miss you.” My comforting smile wobbles, knowing that those same thoughts are eating away at me inside, but I bring the happy thoughts back to the surface and my grin rights itself.

“Soon, love, soon,” I murmur, knowing I can't truly promise anything with how busy our lives have become. But soon doesn't have a time slot or expiration date. I can promise soon and define it later. All I know is that it brings a smile to my boy's face, and that's what I need right now.

We spend the rest of the night talking, lifted by the promise of Soon, love, soon, knowing that it could very well mean a long, long time.

_______________________________

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 in my bedroom window, blinding me when my eyes flicker open. But once I blink away the black spots in my vision, I see that the sunlight isn't the only reason I was pulled from the comforting arms of sleep.

Brenda, Teresa, and Sonya are standing at my bedside, my sheets in a bunched up ball in Sonya's hands. I groan, trying to roll away, but Bren, ever the fearless one, grabs my shoulder and pulls me back to face them.

“Get up, (Y/N). No spending the day moping,” she orders. I heave out an exaggerated sigh, making my body intentionally limp as Brenda and Teresa each grab one of my arms, pulling me upright until I have to support my own weight.

“Sometimes I really regret giving you guys my apartment passcode,” I comment, leading Sonya to pinch my arm. I yelp, rubbing the red mark as I get manhandled out of my pajamas and into a new outfit by my best friends. “What—what are you crazies doing?” I splutter, quickly taking the pair of jeans from Teresa's hands before she can try to shove them on my legs, opting to put them on myself.

“We aren't letting you mope around until Gally visits. Who knows how long that would be? It's not healthy,” Sonya explains, linking an arm through mine as the three girls drag me to the bathroom. Brenda shoves my toothpaste-loaded toothbrush into my hand as Tes starts pulling my hair brush through my hair.

“Ow,” I complain around a mouthful of toothpaste suds, pulling away from Teresa's assault on my tender scalp momentarily to spit. She and Sonya make quick work of my slightly frizzy hair, tag teaming it to create a fun yet elegant braid.

“Beautiful,” Sonya sighs, leaning back to admire her handiwork. Brenda, on the other hand, seems to have some kind of mental checklist, full of all the tasks she must see me complete.

“Breakfast is next,” she commands, and I find myself being pulled into my kitchen, watching helplessly as my friends dive into making us a scrumptious, sugary feast.

I have to admit, the fluffy blueberry pancakes filling my stomach certainly make venturing out into the world much easier than I expected. I only feel the need to text Gally three times before leaving my apartment with my friends, rather than the usual five to ten. Whether these texts are to let him know I'm fine or to make sure he's fine, I've never been able to figure out. Maybe they're both. Either way, it's a good thing Brenda shoved my meds into my hand before breakfast.

When I'm here alone, I don't take them. Sometimes I skip them on purpose, sometimes I just forget. But either way, I don't take my anxiety meds unless Brenda is there to shove them down my throat. Thinking about it, I'm grateful she's here to force me to take them today. With all of these mixed up feelings about being separated from Gally for so long, having more control over my anxiety will be good.

A day shopping with my best friends is a good distraction from the painful loneliness I've been feeling without Gally. It's not exactly a cure, but it's close. My friends know this; know their own limitations, and so they do the best they can.

And I'm so grateful that they've put in the time. Put in the effort. All for me.

“Thank you,” I whisper to them as we sit in our favorite coffee shop, sipping oat milk lattes.

“Of course,” Brenda immediately responds.

“We love you,” Sonya adds.

“We know we aren't your boy,” Teresa chimes in, “but we're your best friends, and that means we stick by you. No matter what.” She leans over to rub my arm. “When you're down, I'm down. We wanted to help pick you back up.”

The smile on my face is genuine for the first time in a long time, knowing that my friends love me enough to support me despite having the knowledge that they can't give me everything I need. They give what they can, and accept me when it doesn't fix everything.

I haven't always had friends this good, and I look up at the sky, thanking the heavens that I've been blessed with such good friends now.

_______________________________

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 before my birthday, I can’t get Teresa’s half-joking, hare-brained idea out of my head. Realistically, I know that the likelihood that I could find a flight on my birthday to Chicago that isn’t full (or way too expensive) is slim. Realistically, I know that I don’t have the money for plane tickets right now. Realistically, I know that flying halfway across the country on a whim to see my boyfriend is ridiculous.

But when Gally sends me his flight information, knowing I like to watch his progress and get confirmation when he lands safely, I find myself checking flights from Denver to Chicago, telling myself it’s just out of curiosity. Because what if there is a flight to Denver from Chicago on my birthday? What if there is a possibility that I could see Gally on my birthday? What if there is a chance that I could have this gift; the only one I truly want?

If there’s even a chance to see Gally on my birthday, I want to know.

Gally’s flight information is pulled up on my phone, which is next to me on my desk as I scroll through flights on my laptop. My right thumbnail is between my teeth, bitten down to the quick and then some. It seems that flying is a popular travel option right now, as flights are filled even into places like Dawson County, Montana. Every flight I find from Denver to Chicago is either full or too expensive for someone just out of college, like me. The cheapest is $374, and I know rationally that blowing through that much money would be devastating for my finances.

I swear under my breath, angry at myself for even getting my hopes up. It was a stupid idea to check the flights, and I find myself wishing I could go back in time to stop myself from looking. The disappointment grows even larger knowing that there would be a way to get to him if I wasn’t a broke post-college student making minimum wage in the Mile-High City. Then the disappointment and anger melt away, leaving me with a heart wrenching sadness that feels so empty and yet so all-consuming that I can’t help but break down into tears.

I don’t want to let myself cry about a silly daydream that was unlikely to happen anyway, but I’d let myself entertain the thought of seeing Gally soon; of holding him close and kissing him until we couldn’t breathe, and now everything else seemed pale in comparison. It wasn’t that my life had no purpose outside of him—I’d made it very clear when we started dating that the two of us needed to make sure we had lives outside of our relationship, too. But Gally had become a part of me; my favorite part of me, in fact. I was perfectly happy with the life I had, but Gally made it even sweeter. And knowing that sweetness was mine but was inaccessible made the absence of it even more palpable. Even more unbearable.

Crumpled into a heap on my floor with tears slowly leaking from my eyes is how Teresa finds me when she opens my door fifteen minutes later. “Hey, girl—” she calls before seeing me, rushing to my side with a worried, “Oh, my gosh, what’s wrong, (Y/N)?” I just shake my head, the waterworks turning back up to full blast.

“I miss him so much,” I sob as she gathers me in her arms, unable to care that I sound pathetic.

“Oh, I know, darling, I know,” Teresa coos, rocking back and forth with my shaking body, whispering comforting words into my ears just like she always does when I get so worked up. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, hand flying up to wipe the snot from my nose, but of course, the minute it’s gone, more replaces it. I’m past the point of an easy calm-down, instead finding myself close to the edge of hyperventilating. Thankfully, Teresa isn’t a stranger to my emotional meltdowns, and she isn’t afraid of them, either. Instead, she’s the kind of friend who will take my hand and guide me through it.

“Did you take your meds this morning?” she asks cautiously, to which I shake my head in embarrassment. Tears are still pooling in the corners of my eyes as I manage to get out,

“I’m sorry.”

Teresa just shushes me calmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s in the past now. I just wanted to know.” I nod shakily, the soothing pressure of her hand rubbing my arm helping me steady my breaths slightly. “What set you off?” she queries, squeezing me a bit tighter when the tears speed up again.

“I—I decided to check the flights for my birthday,” I answer, sniffling as my best friend strokes my hair lovingly. “It was stupid, because it just made me upset. They’re all too expensive, and I knew they would be, and it just made me miss him so much more.” Admitting it out loud makes me feel even dumber, the guilt creeping into my stomach. “I did this to myself,” I mumble. Subconsciously, my nails find their way to my arms, digging into the delicate skin and leaving pink crescents behind. Teresa pulls my hands away from my arms quickly.

“Stop blaming yourself. You did nothing wrong. I would’ve done the same, (Y/N).” I know she’s trying to comfort me, but I just squeeze my eyes shut.

“Yeah, and it wouldn’t have caused you to end up on the floor like a pathetic child.”

“(Y/N)! Stop!” Teresa scolds me. “Stop with the negative self-talk.” I try to protest, but she fixes me with that no-nonsense look that can get anyone to agree to anything, and I find myself nodding meekly. “None of this is your fault. You’re in a difficult situation, being separated from your boyfriend, and your heart isn’t sure how to handle it. That’s okay. You don’t have to know how to handle it perfectly yet.” I sigh, leaning into my best friend’s shoulder, feeling slightly calmer now. She always knows the right words to say when I’m in too deep to think straight.

Teresa coaxes me into the kitchen to drink hot chocolate once my breathing has steadied somewhat. She’s looking at me with an odd look that I can’t quite place, as if she’s…proud of me?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask warily over the top of my steaming mug. My best friend grins, staring at me for a couple more seconds before replying,

“You’re just, like, the strongest person I know.” My face turns what I assume is beet red at the compliment, not expecting such high praise from the woman who just held me in her arms as I sobbed like a baby. But then again, Teresa is special. She doesn’t judge based on outward appearances or impressions. She can see right into the heart of people, as if she can sense their goodness; their potential, and then she nudges them down that path. Helping them choose the sunshine. The good side. The light.

Knowing her compliment is slightly overwhelming, Teresa shrugs and changes the subject so fast I think I get whiplash. “You should call Gally,” she suggests. “Tell him that you were missing him and ask him for some love.” I cringe, turning away from her.

“I don’t want to make him feel bad that he isn’t here. I think I’ve already done that too much this week.”

Teresa scoffs, “That’s nonsense. He’ll be happy that you reached out to him after your meltdown. He’ll be touched that you wanted to let him know how you’re doing. He’ll feel honored that you’re willing to be vulnerable with him.” I know deep down that she’s right; that the only thing he’d do is make me feel better. Never after calling Gally do I feel worse. I know I’m just scared to hurt him, but he always assures me that I don’t need to harbor that fear. I don’t need to hold onto that anxious voice in my head that whispers, You don’t deserve him.

I can even imagine him next to me if I try hard enough, murmuring, “You’re perfect, baby,” when I grow insecure. Whispering, “I’m so lucky to have you” in my ear when I doubt myself.

“Okay,” I agree, letting Teresa take my phone and FaceTime him. Despite the fact that it’s the middle of the work day, Gally picks up on the first ring, a concerned look decorating his handsome face.

“Teresa? Wha—”

“She’s fine!” Teresa rushes to assure him, motioning for me to join her on the couch. I pop my head into the frame, wincing as I see how swollen and puffy my face is. Gally’s forehead immediately creases upon seeing me, obviously still worried when he sees the tear stains on my cheeks.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asks. Teresa silently asks if I want to take the phone, but I shake my head. My hands are still slightly shaky, and holding the phone is an added stressor. Teresa understands and angles the phone towards me.

“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry,” I whisper, my boyfriend’s shoulders relaxing only slightly. “I just had a bit of a meltdown. Teresa found me and helped me calm down.” Gally’s eyebrows soften, his mouth tilting down in a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “What happened?”

“I just miss you,” I mumble sheepishly after a second’s pause. It seems kind of silly once I admit it out loud, and I start to duck my face away when Gally gets my attention.

“Hey, (Y/N), (Y/N),” he says, waiting until I’ve turned back to him before continuing, “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. I miss you, too, okay? I miss you so much. You don’t need to feel ashamed for struggling.” He waits for me to respond, and I nod slightly. Truth be told, just hearing his voice has made me feel better; stronger. There’s something about his comforting, strong tone that soothes me. Just his voice can make me truly believe in myself. I swear, this man could make me believe anything as long as he says it aloud.

“Thank you for picking up,” I smile, finding my mood lightening as a grin finds its way back onto his face. “Seeing you helped.” Gally blushes slightly, rubbing a hand along his chin.

“I’m glad I could help, baby.” Offscreen, someone gruffly commands him to get back to work, and he mutters an apology before turning back to the screen. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. But call me if you need anything, okay?” I nod, trailing my eyes over his freckles one more time as he thanks Teresa for taking care of me and then hangs up.

“It helped?” she asks, as if double-checking to make sure I truly am feeling better.

“Yeah,” I grin sheepishly. “You know what you’re talking about.” With a roll of my eyes, I joke, “You should be a counselor for a living. At this rate, you’re better than me at my own job!” Teresa just laughs.

“Well, now that you’ve cracked a joke, I know you’re feeling better.” She pulls me into a hug, and I gladly return it, silently wondering how I got blessed with such an amazing best friend.

“Hey, I’m here for you,” she reminds me one more time as she leaves, her meticulous check-ins a promise for the next few days.

“I know,” I assure her. “I promise I’ll call if I need to.”

“Good,” she says, smiling as she waves. “I love you, babes!”

“I love you, too, Tes!” Feeling a bit lighter, I wave back as I close my front door.

_______________________________

“𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗡’𝗧—I can’t take this,” I stutter the next day, wide-eyed at the wad of cash Teresa is currently shoving into my hands. Brenda and Sonya are flanking her on either side with looks that imply they’re attempting to telepathically convince me to take the money.

“Yes, you can,” Teresa sighs exasperatedly. “Like I already told you, it’s the money we were going to spend on your celebration pooled together. But we all know you’d rather spend your birthday with Gally, and we want you to be able to, so we’re giving you the money for that plane ticket you couldn’t afford. It would be a waste to throw you a party you don’t want to be at. Helping you see your boyfriend is a much better use of that money. We all agreed.” Brenda and Sonya both nod, Teresa shoving the cash even further into my palms. I take it shakily, counting silently as I gape at them. “But—but this is nine hundred bucks! I can’t—I can’t take this, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry!” Brenda sighs. “Just take the money! It’s our birthday present for you!” I look back and forth between my three best friends, realizing that there is no way they’re letting me reject the money. But it feels so weird having this many fifties weighing heavily in my grasp.

“Please take it,” Sonya says softly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We want you to be able to go see Gally. We want you to enjoy this birthday. You’ll be giving a gift to us by making this impulsive choice to do what makes you happy.” My resistance gets melted away by her words, knowing that this was their tactic all along. Get (Y/N) all toughened up to the ‘just take it’ ruse and then let Sonya slip under her defenses when she least expects it. But I’m not annoyed by it. Instead, I let Teresa close my fist over the cash.

Immediately, the three start cheering, but before I can even blink, they’ve moved on from celebrating and are pushing me towards my laptop where, just as I’m sure Teresa suspected, the flights from Denver to Chicago are still pulled up. Teresa obviously asked Gally to share his flight information with her, because she seems to have it memorized as she scans the flights.

“Alright, here’s the best one,” she announces after a few minutes of looking. “United, nonstop, leaving at 9:30 a.m. MT and arriving at 12:56 p.m. CT. It’s in the same terminal as Gally’s flight, and he lands at 2:23 p.m. CT, so that gives you a little over an hour to get to his gate and wait for him. Sounds good?” I nod wordlessly, still slightly in shock over the way my best friends have handled this so nonchalantly, as if their friend flying across the country on a day’s notice is just a normal part of their lives.

Sonya pulls me towards my room as Brenda takes the stack of cash back from me, mumbling that Teresa insisted they have it for show but was just planning on Venmoing the cash to me. I laugh at our friend’s antics before following an impatient Sonya, who grabs my suitcase from my closet and starts making a list of what I should pack.

“We’re not buying you a return flight,” she explains, “because we didn’t know how long you’d want to stay, and we figured you didn’t know either. Just bring your work stuff and you can work from Gally’s apartment, and use the rest of the money to buy a return ticket when you decide to come back.” I shake my head in awe at the schemes of my friends, who have obviously thought of every single anxiety I could have because of this plan and have set out to refute them.

With Sonya helping me pack, a task that would usually take me at least three hours, two cups of coffee, and a panic attack is done in under one hour, no coffee or panic attacks in sight. While I wouldn’t have minded the coffee, the no panic attack part is nice, and I decide I can live without those two cups of coffee if it means my peace of mind is intact.

And the next morning when Teresa drops me off at the airport, my medicine taken and an ample breakfast eaten, the nervous butterflies in my stomach don’t feel scary. In fact, they feel almost…exciting. And I feel crazy for doing this; for flying halfway across the country to surprise my boyfriend so I can kiss him on my birthday, but I also feel so alive.

And today, the idea of living doesn’t seem as scary anymore.

_______________________________

𝗔𝗦 𝗜 wait at my gate and sip my Starbucks latte, I answer the countless birthday texts I have already received, smiling at the overflow of love from people I talk to everyday and people I barely even know. It’s funny, knowing that there are people out there who remember my birthday but don’t talk to me otherwise. Some might feel disheartened at the idea, but I just giggle quietly to myself, wondering if I’m going crazy for feeling so lighthearted.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, I think to myself. The adrenaline from doing something so stupid and yet so exciting. Shrugging to myself, I take another large gulp of coffee, finally getting to the text from Gally. I saved it for last, knowing it would be the best one. And sure enough, as I read the message, I feel happy tears pricking my eyes. As always, he’s sweet; sappy, even, but his message also holds the serious intensity that he always has around him. It’s like an aura, telling those around him that he does everything fully and completely, never giving only half of his effort. That intensity is probably why I love reading texts from him over and over. Even if it’s a simple good morning, his texts always seem to scream I love you from between the lines.

I text Gally back, thanking him for the love he’s sent zipping along telephone lines, across the country and all the way to me. I suck the last dregs of liquid from my Starbucks cup, finally accepting that the beverage is gone as the gate attendant calls for Boarding Group 1. I find myself bouncing from foot to foot, realizing once again that I’m really doing this. I can’t bring myself to sit down as I wait for my group to be called, instead standing by the gate’s charging station, fidgeting like I’m about to run the 100 meter dash. By the time I’m boarding, I’m breathing heavily like I just sprinted up Pikes Peak. Whether from nerves or excitement, I can’t really tell, but it’s enough that the flight attendant touches my arm as she checks the cabin.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” I look up in surprise before giving her a quick grin.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous.”

She smiles empathetically. “Is it your first time flying?”

“No. I’m flying out to surprise my boyfriend, and I guess I’m just hoping it all works out like I planned,” I explain.

At this, I receive an even bigger grin from the flight attendant, who thinks that is just—“the most adorable thing ever!” I nod along, unsure whether I’m actually smiling or just masking my anxiety. Either one is a plausible explanation, and I’m pumped so full of adrenaline that all of my emotions currently feel interchangeable.

I spend the entirety of take-off nervously fiddling with the little screen in front of me, trying to distract myself. Once we’re at a constant altitude, the flight attendants offer drinks, and I ask for a ginger ale, my go-to drink on airplanes. It calms me down, the comforting security of it helping me stay rational. Unfortunately, the ginger ale combined with my anxious thoughts cause my bladder to reach its limit quite quickly.

I hate the little bathrooms on airplanes. So loud, so claustrophobic, so turbulent. It’s like trying to pee while in the middle of an earthquake. But my bladder isn’t playing games today, and the last thing I want to do is ignore it and then pee myself. The intrusive thoughts fight to take over as I rush through the motions, washing my hands as quickly as possible, but I stave them off and make it back to my seat in one piece.

The remaining hour until landing is the longest hour of my life.

When we finally touch down and taxi to our gate, all of the tension that has built up inside me feels ready to explode, but I hold it in, knowing that I can let it all out once I see Gally. It’s barely even occurred to me that I’m a year older now—that it’s my birthday—because all I can think about is getting to hold my boy.

I almost trip getting off the plane, too busy checking his flight’s progress and landing gate. His flight is still an hour and thirty minutes out, giving me more than enough time to go to the bathroom, get some food, and wait for him. I pull my suitcase behind me, so glad I decided to take everything in my carry-on, as I’m now realizing that baggage claim is outside the secure area of the airport. I break free from the flow of traffic heading in that direction, redirecting towards the bathroom.

One bathroom trip, makeup refresher, and food court scavenger hunt later, I’m standing against a column at Gally’s gate, drinking my second Starbucks latte of the day. Normally, I wouldn’t let myself indulge like this, but it’s my birthday, so I feel justified. I even treat myself to a slice of sweet bread, too. I’m too anxious to eat a full lunch. Besides, I’m sure Gally will be happy to get lunch on our way back to his apartment. He’s always willing to eat, no matter the time of day.

I’m trying my best not to look suspicious. There’s a flight leaving from this gate after Gally’s flight arrives, so I blend in, but my leg is bouncing nervously and my hands are shaking slightly. I’m a naturally energetic person, but the fidgeting increases exponentially when I’m either excited or nervous. Right now, I’m both.

Thankfully, no one seems to notice me or think I’m behaving weirdly. I’m simply overthinking, like I often do. At least it passes the time. I only have thirty minutes left to wait.

I run back to Starbucks and buy another latte. It’s gone within ten minutes, my anxious energy prompting me to gulp it down like I’m dying of thirst. Then I’m running to the bathroom again, bladder shouting angrily at me for the caffeine abuse I’ve been subjecting it to. It’s unpleasant, but it kills more time.

Ten minutes to go. I’m staring at my phone, Gally’s flight details pulled up, reloading the page over and over in hopes that magically, they’ll teleport and be here instantly. With anyone else, I wouldn’t be this obsessive; impatient, but it’s Gally. I could obsess over Gally for days on end with all the love overflowing from my heart. So I pass three minutes refreshing the page persistently, watching the minutes countdown.

I let out a quiet, barely there gasp when my phone screen tells me he’s landed. I can barely contain my excitement, nervous energy causing me to wiggle my hips like a rhythmically challenged dancer. His plane is on the ground, taxiing over, right to where I’m waiting. He’s going to walk through that gate, and I’m going to see his beautiful face, and I’m going to run and jump into my boyfriend’s arms.

All of a sudden, doubt crashes into me like a fucking tidal wave. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if this is weird, and he’s going to be all awkward about it? What if this was one huge fuck-up? I can feel myself starting to spiral, starting to lose touch with the confidence I’ve been channeling all day. The panic has started to grow, and it surges through my veins, reaching to the tip-top of the cliff that is followed by a plunge off the deep end. Thankfully, though, with only a few minutes to spare before my boyfriend gets off his plane, a little girl in a princess dress bumps into me, hard, causing my knees to buckle and my head to snap out of the spiral it’s in.

I catch myself against the trusty column I’m leaning against, looking down to find a young girl, maybe six, wearing an Elena of Avalor dress-up costume with a stuffed animal that looks like some kind of leopard with bird wings.

“Amity!” her mother scolds her, ordering her to apologize for bumping into me. Amity looks up at me with big, brown doe eyes and a huge, genuine grin.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she chirps. I smile back, making eye contact with her mom, before crouching down to her level and holding out a hand to shake.

“I forgive you. I’m (Y/N). Want to know something?” Amity shakes my hand, grinning widely, before looking at her mom as if to make sure it’s okay to talk to me. Her mom gives a gentle nod, a kindness in her eyes as they meet mine. “Well, Amity, you actually helped me just now. I was feeling super duper nervous and it was making me get shaky and worried. But then you bumped into me, and I saw your smile, and it made me feel a lot better!”

I can tell Amity’s mother is touched, and I make sure to assure her that I’m doing better. That Amity’s little scuffle with my legs was truly helpful. And then Amity and her mom are on their way, Amity’s tight hug and whisper of “You look like a princess” giving me the last boost of confidence I need.

Right as I finish waving goodbye to the adorable little girl, I hear the sounds of passengers starting to come down the jetway. I suck in a sharp breath, making sure my small suitcase and jacket are safe by the column before stepping closer to the junction between gate and jetway, watching passengers closely as they start to trickle into the airport.

It’s no surprise that I can pick Gally out of the crowd immediately after he walks out of the jetway, his head easily peeking over every other passenger. He doesn’t see me at first, focused on trying not to trample the small toddler whose family is trying desperately to get him to behave as they walk in front of my boyfriend.

I wait until he’s right there, just the toddler’s family in front of him, to call his name. “Gally!” His head snaps up, eyes scanning the surrounding area before settling on me, his jaw going slack, falling open in surprise as the toddler’s family quickly moves out of the way.

It’s like we’re living in slow motion, the way I watch Gally’s backpack slide out of his hand and hit the floor with a thump, his look of shock morphing into a state of joyous disbelief, as if he’s not sure he’s truly seeing me. He looks frozen in this state, unable to move towards me, but I don’t care. I’m already running up to him, happy tears gathering in my eyes as I jump into Gally’s arms, my head burying itself in his neck before I lean up to kiss him with all the pent-up love, tension, and nerves that have been coursing through my body all day.

His lips are warm just like they always are, soft and full and inviting as we kiss passionately; shamelessly, right in front of everyone waiting to board their flight. I can’t bring myself to care, anxiety nowhere to be found now that I’m here. In his arms. Held tightly, kept safe, flooded with warmth, just like I’m supposed to be.

He pulls away first, still in shock as he scans my face, as if expecting to find some imperfection that reveals me as a doppelganger. “Baby—” he chokes out, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, my own tears rolling down my cheeks. “Baby, you’re here.” He lets out a giddy, confused laugh, cupping my cheek with his hand as he wipes the remnant saltwater away with his thumb.

“You’re—you’re here. In Chicago,” he repeats, putting my feet back on the floor so I can stand there with my arms around his neck, his other hand coming up to cup my other cheek. “You’re—it’s your birthday!” he says, and I can’t tell if it’s another reason he’s confused I’m here, or if it’s just an observation. Well, probably both, so I just giggle.

“Yes, Gally, it’s my birthday.”

“But—did you—when did you get here?” he asked, bewildered, a lovestruck, excited smile lighting up his whole face. I run my hands through his hair, admiring his gentleness as he cradles my face in his palms.

“An hour and a half ago, I think. I’m not sure the exact timing,” I shrug. He gasps.

“You flew on your birthday?” I give him an odd look.

“Yes…why? Is that illegal or something?” Gally chuckles through the joy-filled tears still drifting down his face every once in a while.

“No, baby. I just thought—most people wouldn’t be willing to fly or even be at an airport on their birthdays. Don’t you have cool stuff to do? Fun people to see?” I shake my head, pulling him as close as I can, our lips hovering inches apart.

“You’re the only person I wanted to see. This is my birthday present.”

Gally’s eyes water even more as he presses his forehead to mine, running his hands through my hair. “Baby, I—” He pulls away to wipe a tear from his eye and then leans back down, pressing a gentle peck to my forehead, “I love you so much.”

“I love you even more, Gally,” I whisper back, staring into his teary eyes with my watery own. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not possible.”

“It is, too,” I giggle, still whispering as I press a kiss to his lips, “and I’m the birthday girl, so you have to let me win the arguments today.”

“Oh, that’s how that works,” Gally laughed, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Well, I suppose I can let you win this one, since you did fly all the way to Chicago on your birthday.”

“Oh, but that was selfish,” I smiled. “I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. It was purely selfish.” Gally just hugged me tighter, pressing kisses to the top of my hair as he admitted quietly,

“Well, I needed to see you, too. I needed to have you in my arms.” I relax into the warmth of my boyfriend’s chest, the material of his hoodie tickling my nose. I endure it because it smells like him, and that makes it the most calming aroma in the world.

“Being in your arms is all I need. You are all I need,” I whisper.

I kiss him again, a loving, sweet kiss, reveling in the presence and taste of my boyfriend, a sense of peace and safety wrapping its warm arms around me.

Nothing else matters in this moment. Not my job, or my life in Denver, or my birthday. All that matters is that I am here, in my boyfriend’s arms. In Gally’s arms.

Right where I’m supposed to be.

the end

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justanobsessedfangirl · 1 year

Text

A Mission - The Maze Runner Imagine

Request from Anonymous: i loved ur 'how you meet' preferences!! could you write a griever slaying fem reader? i know this sounds wack but hear me out she comes straight out the box running for the hills and instead of stopping when they tell her not to go in there she runs straight in. minho or one of the other runners find her killing a griever and theyre like what the FUCK and he drags her back to the glade like why is there a girl here why was she killing a griever and everyone is like what the FUCK just everyone being confused and bewildered at the first girl in the glade being batshit crazy

Author's Note: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!

Word Count: 2.2k

I have a mission.

It's the first thing you remember when you wake up in this cramped box, and for a while, it's the only thing you can think.

I have a mission.

The details come to you in fragments. You know you'll have to run. You're ready for that, pacing around the rising room to keep your muscles warm.

I have a mission.

There's going to be danger, that you're sure of. The scars on your body that you have no memory of getting make you wonder if this isn't the first time you've had a mission like this. There's a long one that snakes along your calf, like someone wrapped a curl of barbed wire around your leg. Your hands are littered with tiny, long-healed cuts. When you flex your fingers, you feel strong. Hardened.

I have a mission.

The room shudders to a stop. The far half of the ceiling opens up and daylight pours in. You sink further into the shadows. The light stings your eyes, and the gentle hum of the ascent has been replaced by clamoring voices and the sound of constant movement. The box shakes with the thud of someone landing inside.

I have a mission.

You dart across the room, hearing the voices change to shock and confusion, and leap for the wall. Your fingers just barely grip the top. Your feet scrabble for purchase on the slick surface, but you're determined, you're quick, you're strong, and this is your mission so you must succeed.

You haul yourself out of the box. A mob of teenage boys stands in front of you, all around you, some laughing, some glaring, many simply confused. You run at them and they scramble away. For a strange, detached moment, you feel like a queen walking to her throne, the lords parting before her in deference, cheering.

There is no cheering as you sprint across the grass.

"He's making a run for it!" someone says, cackling.

"I think that was a girl," comes a different voice.

You run faster. Your eyes have adjusted to the brightness and you can see the blue sky, the grassy ground, and the hulking stone walls boxing you in.

Escape one box and run right into another, you think, and then, I have a mission.

There are a few breaks in the walls, massive doorways leading into a mystery. You're heading for the closest one. Behind you, there are loud footfalls and cries for you to "Stop! Don't go in there!" It sounds like someone tells you to "Stop being such a shank," but his words are choppy, confusing, and all you want is to complete your mission.

The entrance is so close, just a few more seconds of all-out sprinting, when you feel the heavy presence of someone behind you. Someone who wants to grab you. Who wants to stop you.

Without planning to, you come to a dead stop and drop into a crouch. The person behind you was too close, they can't stop soon enough, their shin collides with your back as they trip over you and slam to the ground in front of you.

You're back running before you can take a close look at him. Every muscle in your body is moving with instructions you haven't given, implementing lessons you don't remember teaching. Your surroundings are entirely new, entirely foreign—and yet, there's an uncanniness to everything you see. The colors and the season and the people are wrong. But the bones of this place, those are familiar. Especially, you realize as you enter the gap between the walls, the maze.

For the first time, your steps falter. The walls are gray stone and decked in ivy. That's wrong. They should be…they should be…

You want to shiver, the memory flees, all you know is the mission.

You sprint and take a left at the four-way intersection. All of the voices have faded. No one seems to be coming after you as you make your way down corridors, following a path that's branded like fire in your mind.

Straight. Right. Right. Left. Straight. Left. Right. Right. Straight. Straight. Straight. Left.

Here.

Here is a dead end. The walls are so thick with ivy you can barely see the stones. The air is still as a graveyard. You stand, panting, trying to remember what comes next.

From atop the wall, there's a clicking noise. You look up.

The creature is hideous, all mechanical limbs and throbbing, human-like skin. You half-expect giant wings to unfurl from its back (why? The memory slips away like a shadow) but instead it starts climbing down the ivy, whirling and clicking. Razor-sharp barbs glint along its body. Its mouth, a maw of metal, gnashes hungrily.

You remember what you have to do.

The boys find you faster than you thought they would. You hear them round the corner as the monster shrieks its death knell. Its mechanical body curls in like the husk of a bug. Blood drips down your arm, getting on the wires that droop from the metal disk you're holding. It's still warm from the creature's chest cavity, where it had been nestled like a heart. The disk is pockmarked with flashing dots of light. They blink at you a few times, the pause between each growing longer, and then they wink out. The creature at your feet, speared by its own jagged limb, falls silent.

"What the fuck."

The boy isn't asking, you realize as you turn around, the metal disk slipping from between your blood-slicked fingers. He has dark hair and dark eyes and an athlete's build, all lean muscle and confidence. His gaze darts from you to the monster, then back to the monster.

He's flanked by two others, one with shaggy brown hair and freckles who looks to him in deference, and the other, dark-skinned and serious, who steps forward, side-by-side with the speaker.

"Minho," commands the dark-skinned boy, "check that the Griever's really dead."

The boy who spoke first nods and starts toward you, trepidatious at first, then more sure as sees the monster (the Griever?) more clearly. "Definitely looks dead," he says. "I don't know how she's not."

Their stares feel like drills boring into your skin. Your back aches, hot with blood, and the muscles in your legs are tightening up. Your mission is done, you should feel happy, but you're still here in this strange, wrong, too-familiar place, and the adrenaline that had been fueling you is fading. You want to go home. You want your sleeping bag, covered in a blanket of fur and nestled in the—the—Gone. The memory is gone.

I had a mission, you think. And then you say it out loud, testing the words on your tongue, "I had a mission."

The boy closest to you, the one who'd been called Minho, stares at you like you've grown a second head. "You're jacked," he says with a breathy, perplexed chuckle.

The insult is on your lips before you can remember where it comes from: "Crackhead."

Minho lets out a booming laugh, then turns to the other boys. "Can we keep her, Alby?"

The serious boy, Alby, frowns deeper. "We need to hold a Gathering. Thomas, go tell Newt. We'll be right there."

The third boy, the one with brown hair and freckles, nods warily. He takes one last look at you and sprints back the way he came. You watch him go, ignoring the boys he left behind until you hear a clatter of metal.

Your body jerks into action, spinning around and putting your hands up, ready to fight the Griever again if you have to. But it was just Minho kicking the creature's body, poking and prodding at its innards.

"What's your name?" Alby asks from behind you.

You turn and back up a few steps so you can keep both boys in your field of vision. Minho is crouched over the Griever. Alby is staring at you, his gaze heavy, solemn. Distrustful.

"Y/N," you tell him.

Minho pries the Griever's jaw open. His voice echoes off the metal tunnel of the Griever's throat as he asks, "How'd you avoid getting stung?"

Before you can answer, Alby cuts in, voice sharp and angry. "Where did you come from? What do you mean mission?"

Your body aches. You don't want to be here, standing over a mutated, cybernetic monster, being questioned by strangers. "I don't know. I can't remember anything."

"You remembered more than we did," Alby fires back.

Minho straightens up. "Let's get her back to the Glade, Alby. She can answer at the Gathering."

You hate their lingo, want to spit on all of the slang you don't understand because you know the words that should be there instead (it's not called the Glade, it's called the…) but you can't find the words, so you jog with them through the maze, following Minho, Alby a few paces behind you. They have you locked in. There's an urge to break away from them at one of the intersections. You could push Minho into the wall and sprint past him, only where would you go?

"What is this place?" you ask as you run.

Minho glances back at you. He looks apprehensive, but there's a curious glint in his eyes. "We're in the Maze. Although, you really shouldn't be in here, Greenie." Looking forward again, he speaks in a louder voice, "Clearly you're a rule-breaker."

You still kind of want to push him.

As you get closer to the "Glade," you hear the murmur of voices. It gets louder and louder, until you can see the door at the end of the corridor and, beyond it, a swarm of boys. Somehow, they get even more raucous as you get closer. Their shouts blur together, meaningless words and sounds filling the air. They clamber into each other, everyone wanting to get closer, no one willing to step into the Maze.

"Out of the way, shanks!" Minho yells.

Boys push and pull, slinging insults and questions, and somehow the mass of chaos becomes two distinct groups, one on each side of you.

Minho leads you across the grass to a rustic building. It's practical and sturdy, all of the effort put towards making a building that won't fall, none left to make it inviting. Inside is quieter. For a second, you're grateful because the blood rushing in your ears and the pain singing across your body is enough noise. But as you follow Minho into another room, the air grows thick and tense. Every breath feels like you could choke on it.

Eleven boys sit in a semicircle, two empty seats amid the line. In the middle of the room is a single empty chair.

Your stomach sinks. Your feet pulse with pain.

Alby enters behind you, jerking his chin at the chair in the center. "That's yours." He watches and waits until you slowly walk to the chair and sink into it.

Your skin feels hot. You're acutely aware of the blood on your clothes, the sweat on your body. You feel like a science experiment, everyone examining you, anticipating your reactions so they can write them down, dissect them, find the answers they want. Mouth dry, you swallow and wait.

Alby and Minho take their seats, Minho beside the third boy from the Maze, the one Alby called Thomas.

"Who—"

"Why—"

"She's a—"

"We can't trust—"

"She killed a Griever." Alby's voice rises above the rest, the stern tone of a leader.

The other boys erupt into more questions. They bounce off the walls. You don't know who to look at, gaze darting from boy to boy until you land on the blond next to Alby. He's one of the few that isn't speaking, his brown eyes boring into yours. You don't know if he sees fatigue, fear, or anger on your face, but he gives a slight nod, almost to himself, and holds up a hand.

"Slim it!"

The others get out a few more unanswered questions before falling silent.

"What do you remember?" the blond asks, his words tinged with a familiar accent. You can't place where you've heard it, who you've heard it from, but you remember that she had blonde hair too, and…The thought fades away.

"I know I had a mission," you say. It's as simple as that, but the boys stare at you like you're speaking another language.

"What does that even—"

"Who gave you—"

"Where the fuck did you come from?"

The blond again holds his hand up against the barrage of questions.

The large boy to your left who spoke last scoffs and protests, "Let us ask, Newt. I know how we can get some answers."

Biting your tongue to keep more insults, origins unknown, from bursting out, you add the name to your memory, filing it with the others. The boy with the accent is Newt. The leader is Alby. You followed Minho through the Maze. And the third boy from the Maze who sits beside Minho, eyebrows furrowed together, his name is—

Thomas stands up. He looks far away, his eyes distant and unfocused. The room slowly quiets down.

"What is it, mate?" Newt asks.

Thomas doesn't look at him. For a few seconds, he just stares at the wall. Then his eyes snap to you. "She shouldn't be here."

The large boy grins, a harsh, twisted thing. "The Greenie's growing a brain."

Thomas doesn't react. Your eyes are locked with his, your breath stuck in your chest. Should you stop him? Should you beg him to continue? You don't have time to do either. Thomas stares at you and speaks.

"She's from Group B."

262 notes · View notes

hollybell51 · 2 years

Note

hii!! if requests are open, could i have a gally and reader where during dinnee she falls asleep on him?? and he has to carry her back and everyones teasing them?? maybe they spend the night tgt and the next morning they confess? Just lots of teasinf and fun and blushy gally! Thanks 💕

Teasing and fun and blushy Gally you ask for, then teasing and fun and blushy Gally you shall receive.

If there was an ‘out’ to go to

Series masterlist, masterpost

Gally x fem!Reader

The Maze Runner (2009 novel - James Dashner, 2014 film - Wes Ball)

Word count: 2474 (woah!)

Summary: literally what acupnoodle asked for. You fall asleep on Gally, he carries to bed and stays at your behest. Confessions are made.

Content: fluff (so much fluff), teenagers being teenagers, Gally is a sweetheart, friends to lovers ig.

Notes: ok I know it’s not that great but omg I had so much fun writing this. One request down, five to go!

You were exhausted. In fact, exhausted was an understatement. You were tired to the bone and you had no idea why. It wasn’t like you’d done anything out of the ordinary, “the ordinary” wasn’t even that strenuous. Sure, hammering in garden stakes might leave you with sore arms and blistered hands, and pulling weeds was hard on your back, but the gardens were easy. Not like being a builder. Not like him.

He was fine, laughing beside you at some (probably lame) joke from one of the other noticeably not tired boys at your little table, his shoulder bumping against yours every so often. He was always fine. Always ready with a smile and a nod to you, a large calloused hand held out like some kind of nineteenth century gentleman whenever you got up or sat down. The other boys liked to poke fun at him for how he treated you, but you adored it.

“You alright, (Y/N)?” he was asking now, his brows furrowed slightly. With a start, you realised that your head had begun to droop forwards, and that several people were looking at you oddly.

“Fine,” you said. Gally raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and continued to dig into the plate of rich stew and tender brown rice before him. Your mouth twitched with the hint of a smile as you felt his strong, rough fingers find and envelop your own under the table, squeezing gently. God, this boy.

The laughter and chatter was beginning to blur into one humming, buzzing drone in your ears, the food you’d just finished heavy and warm in your stomach. Your mind swam, at ease in the warmth and comfort of the glade, Gally’s hand anchoring you. But then you were drifting, drifting…

“Oi,” said Zart, pointing with his fork at Gally’s shoulder. “Did she just fall asleep?”

Gally turned his head carefully, glancing down at where the warmth of your body pressed against him. You were completely boneless, slumped awkwardly over his side, your hand still resting in his and your cheek mushed up against his arm. Your breathing was deep and even. Shit, you really were asleep.

“Be quiet,” he said quickly, “don’t wake her up.” He’d felt the moment your head had come to rest on his shoulder, but hadn’t let himself dwell on it aside from noting the frantic lurch his heart gave and the swarm of butterflies you’d unwittingly unleashed in his stomach.

The other boys, idiots that they were, hooted in unison.

“Gally the grump’s got himself a girl!” sang Ben, peering around to get a look at your sleeping face. “And a damned cute one too!”

Gally felt his cheeks heat uncomfortably. “She’s the only girl, shuckface.” But Ben was right. You were beautiful, when the sun was glancing off the walls mid afternoon and gilding you in gold. You were pretty, when you smiled as you took his hand when he offered it to you – something he still didn’t even know the reason for. You were fascinating to watch as you worked, your fingers effortless transforming empty dirt into a veritable wellspring of food. And yeah, you were cute, when you were slumped against his side, out like a light.

“Should we do something?” Zart frowned, still pointing his spoon at you. “She doesn’t look comfortable. And she might drool on you.”

“Gally’d love some (Y/N) drool,” someone – luckily for them, Gally didn’t see who – called down the table. “Wouldn’t you, Gally?”

“I said be quiet!” he whisper-shouted, glaring around. How you’d ever managed to conk out in this racket was beyond him, and how you’d managed to stay that way was even more of a mystery.

Ben frowned, drumming his fingers on the table. “Maybe we should wake her up, tell her to go to bed.”

“Do you wanna wake her up?” Gally almost snapped, keeping his irritation out of his voice with no small effort. “No, I’ll just carry her.” He said this mostly to himself, but realised his mistake in voicing the thought almost immediately. A massive chorus of whooping and laughter interspersed with a few whistles went up, a few boys even going so far as to bang their fists on the table.

Gally was quick to scoop you into his arms, standing carefully and gathering your limp form against his chest. It wasn’t a far walk to the tree that overshadowed your hammock, but every step risked tripping or stumbling, which would be disastrous while carrying you. You weren’t heavy, as such – certainly nothing he couldn’t handle – but you were a dead weight.

Finally, he reached the old sheet he’d helped you hang up as a sort of privacy screen, kicking it aside with a muttered curse when his foot got tangled in the material. The world really didn’t seem to be on his side tonight. Aside from the fact that he was holding you, of course.

You shifted in your sleep, a half-formed syllable slipping from your lips.

“Shh,” Gally whispered. “It’s alright, you don’t have to wake up. In fact, please don’t wake up.” God, what would you do if you saw him now? He could imagine the pink flooding over your cheeks, like it had that one time he’d thoughtlessly remarked that he loved your laugh. You hadn’t been able to meet his eyes for a full ten minutes, overcome by secret little pleased smiles whenever he caught a glimpse of your face. It’d made his heart soar, there was no other way to describe the swooping feeling inside him that still arose whenever he thought about the incident. There it was, right now.

Gally shook his head, dispelling the memory. He wasn’t going to get caught up in the stupid sappiness you unfailingly dragged out of him, the same sappiness that drew the mocking whistles and laughter of the other boys like iron filings to a magnet. You ignored it completely, though how, Gally was at a loss. He’d toyed with the idea that you were just unaware of it, but that had to be impossible. No, you were just a good deal better at keeping your head than he was.

Now, as he lowered you as gently as he could into the hammock, he was acutely aware of how close he was to you. You looked so small, bundled into the cocoon of well worn cotton on top of a mess of blankets – something he should have thought to move before putting you down. He let himself look at you for a moment. Your still, peaceful face; your chest rising and falling gently with every breath you took; the fine shadow your lashes cast on the delicate skin beneath your eyes. In the dim light emanating from the closest lantern, you could have come straight out of his dreams.

But you were real, and you were going to get cold if he didn’t give you a blanket. He wriggled one carefully from under your body, spread it over you and tucked the edges into the hammock. Then, on an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

You stirred, a faint sigh and the tiniest hint of a smile. “Gally?” you slurred, your eyes still closed. Were you talking in your sleep? Should he respond?

“Yeah,” he murmured after a moment’s consideration. “Just me.”

“Mm.” You smiled again, fumbling to get your hand free. Somehow, as though by instinct, your fingers found his and you gripped his hand firmly. “Stay,” you whispered, voice thick with sleep. “Stay?”

Gally was frozen, unable to do anything. “Yeah,” he said dumbly. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

“Good,” you smiled. You muttered something else, but it was lost as you turned sideways and snuggled deeper into the blanket.

Gally stood stock still, his hand still in yours. What the hell did he do now? He couldn’t just leave, and he certainly couldn’t get in that hammock with you. The thought made something inside him twist with longing, but he had no idea if you wanted that. Sure, you were friends – close friends – but that was a step he didn’t want to take while you were asleep. No way.

Eventually, he settled down with his back against the tree, arm resting on the side of the hammock, fingers still entwined with your own. It was far from the comfort of his own hammock some five metres away, but the sound of your breathing and the small, warm weight of your hand in his more than made up for it.

It’s not so bad, he thought, resting his head back against the rough bark of the tree. The distant sounds of the other boys’ chatter floated through the night, mixed with the scuttling and chittering of the invisible nocturnal creatures who shared their home. It’s really not so bad.

The harsh, dissonant grating of the Walls woke you, just like it did every morning. You opened your eyes and, just like you did every morning, allowed yourself a few seconds to stare into the canopy of the tree above. Like every morning, the pale light of daybreak was filtering gently through its leaves, landing in soft patches on the blanket covering your body. You wriggled down in the hammock, just as you did every morning, stretching your arms wide…

“Huh?”

You jumped. Your hand had hit something. No, someone. That didn’t happen every morning. You spun, your legs tangling in the blanket, and stared. Gally was sitting against the tree, rubbing at his neck with a grimace.

“Gally?” you asked, unsure if you were still dreaming. What the hell was he doing here?

“Hey (Y/N),” he mumbled, wincing as he turned his head from side to side. “Bloody hell, that tree sucks.” Then, seeing your confusion, he frowned. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly. “What are you doing here?”

Gally’s cheeks flushed pink, his gaze dropping from you to the ground. You were a little grateful for that; you must have looked like shit. It was stupid, you knew that – everyone looked like shit in the Glade – but something about Gally made you care about the stupid things. How you looked, how you acted, how you sounded, how you smiled, how you laughed. He’d said he loved your laugh once, and you still couldn’t stop the smile from breaking across your face every time you thought about it. He drove you insane.

“You fell asleep at dinner,” he was saying now. “It wasn’t exactly quiet over there, and you looked tired. You were probably sleep talking or something, but you asked me to stay, and I didn’t know what to do so I just…” he trailed off, waving a hand vaguely around the hammock, you, and himself.

“Oh,” was all you could manage. You’d vaguely recalled the feeling of someone’s strong arms lifting you, a rough hand in yours, someone telling you that it was alright and that you didn’t have to wake up. And a kiss, feather light on your forehead. But that had been a dream, right? A nice dream, but a dream all the same.

“I’m sorry,” Gally was saying now. “If I overstepped or… or anything. I can go if you want?”

“No, don’t go,” you said quickly, then realised how clingy and desperate it sounded. “I mean, if you want to you can but I don’t mind.” You cringed at your own words, wishing you could pull them back inside you, stuff them deep down where they’d never see the light of day. “Thank you,” you said instead. “For… this.”

Gally smiled, picking at a piece of grass near his foot, twisting it between his fingers. “Anything for you,” he mumbled, then blushed, avoiding your eyes.

Your stomach did a flip, but you laughed it off. You swung your legs over the edge of your hammock, leaning forwards and taking his hand in both of yours. “I mean it,” you smiled.

Gally’s eyes flicked up to meet your own, clear and serious. “So do I,” he said.

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You just sat there, dumbly holding his hand in yours and smiling, your heart thundering madly. He didn’t see you the way you saw him, right? He treated you differently to everyone else, he was softer and he smiled more. He never made jokes at your expense, and sure, he’d held your hand as you fell asleep on him and then carried you to bed, but he was just being nice, wasn’t he?

“Can I…” He hesitated, cleared his throat, then began again. “Can I kiss you?”

Oh. “Kiss me?” you echoed, your mind frozen.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, his cheeks flushing crimson. “God, sorry (Y/N) I didn’t–”

You cut him off. “Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, you can kiss me. I want you to.”

He frowned. “Are you sure?”

You nodded again, leaning further out of your hammock towards him. He met you halfway, his lips soft against yours, and butterflies exploded into a whirling storm in your stomach. He was so gentle with you, his free hand cupping your cheek so tenderly it made you want to scream. You let your own hands find purchase on his chest, steadying yourself so as to avoid falling out of the hammock – you were definitely leaning too far forwards.

“Woah,” you whispered when he pulled back.

“Woah,” he repeated. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone, as strongly comforting as anything that was him was.

“I didn’t know you thought about me,” you said. “Like that, I mean.”

He grinned. “I do. Do you think about me? Like that?”

You nodded, your own smile matching his. You were downright giddy, on top of the world, and nothing could ever bring you down.

Gally stood, holding out a hand to you just like he always did. You took it, pulling yourself to your feet gingerly. But this time, where he usually would have let your fingers slip from his, he held on.

“I’d ask you out,” he said. “If there was an ‘out’ to go to.”

You grinned. “I’d say yes. Besides, it’s the thought that counts.”

“The thought that counts,” he agreed.

You stood in silence for a moment, then, “I’d go ‘out’ if ‘out’ was a landfill site.”

“I’d never take you to a landfill site,” Gally said, shaking his head adamantly. “Never.”

“What if I liked landfill sites?”

“Maybe then.”

You smiled for what must have been the tenth time in the short time you’d been awake, stretching up to place a kiss on his lips. He held you close, smiling against you. Your knees practically turned to jelly.

“We’re never going to hear the end of this, are we?” you murmured.

“I don’t care,” he replied.

You shrugged, smiling once more. “Neither do I.”

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myocsfanfictions · 5 months

Text

MAZE RUNNER FANFICTIONS

Caged - Maze Runner Fanfiction

***************

The WCKD Project - Smut Collection

[Fanfictions other Fandoms]

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 2 years

Text

The Power of Suffering - Part 2 (Gally x OC)

Summary: 5 years have past since Gally was rescued from the Maze. He is an integral leader in the Right Arm and Joan is lead medic at their home base. When he's not out on patrol or on mission, he can be found with her.

Pairing: Gally x OC (Joan)

Word Count: 4148

Warnings: canon typical violence, cranks, background original characters, death mention, grief, gally being so soft it hurts

ONE | TWO | THREE

Gally, after many talks with Lawrence and many nights spent with Joan reading to him, decided to stay with the Right Arm. And five years later he was right behind Beckett in the pecking order, leading missions and giving out orders. Joan was right when she saw that he was a fighter. WCKD couldn’t hide behind their walls forever, and Gally was more than willing to help take them down after what they did to him. What they did to Joan. What they continued to do every day to the less fortunate who lived outside the city.

Today, Gally and his unit were assigned to go to the outer reaches of the city in search of supplies. Weapons. Ammo. Blankets to be passed out to the people. Medical supplies. Batteries. Equipment they could easily repair. Anything that could even have the potential to be useful was gathered and brought back to base. The only problem was that the outer reaches were crawling with Cranks hunting for anyone foolish enough to roam too close.

“Alright, boys, we got three teams of two. Jameson and Stormes. Farley and Crouch. And me and Vince,” Gally barked his orders as the van slowed to a stop, “Nelson’ll stay in the van waiting. We only got thirty minutes to get what we can and go — and we won’t hesitate to leave your ass if you’re not back in time.”

“Masks!” Farley yelled as he opened the doors, all of them pulling down their respirators over their faces.

Gally emerged from the van first, gun held aloft and eyes vigilant for any danger.

“Jameson, you and Stormes to the west. Farley, you and Crouch to the east. Vince and I’ll head south.” The unit started to split up cautiously, “And watch your six, boys. Crank territory.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vince and Gally crept along in silence, heading south and away from the van until they found what remained of some form of shop. The walls were all but caved in, the sign that used to hang above the door dangling from one corner and half-melted. Vince pointed the location out to Gally who nodded his head in agreement. They would check it for supplies.

Gally entered through the door first, gun held up and ready to fire at anything that moved.

“Clear,” he announced when he’d walked the entire right side of the building, Vince repeating the statement for the left.

The place looked like it had been ransacked a couple of times over, but there still might have been something of value hidden beneath the rubble.

“Stay here — start searching. I’ll go check the back.”

“Yes, sir,” Vince replied, slinging his gun over his shoulder and crouching down on the ground.

The small room at the back of the store, which was probably once an office of some kind, was bathed in darkness. Debris and other fallen buildings had covered the windows from the outside. With a click, Gally’s hand-held flashlight came on, revealing nothing but an empty room and a pile of bones propped up in a chair.

“Jesus!” Gally whispered under his breath at the sight.

“You found the Lord in there, sir?” Vince called from the other room, his impeccable hearing once again making him grin.

“Shut up, Vince,” Gally chuckled, slinging his gun over his shoulder, “We’re all clear.”

Vince was only eighteen, three years younger than Gally and only about half his size. He’d only been with the Right Arm for a few months but had already proven himself to be an excellent fighter and an even better scout. His eyes were keen and his ears were even more so. He could hear a Crank coming from a mile off. And Gally always made sure to bring him on all of his missions. But of course, it was more than his usefulness. Vince was Gally’s friend. Though the other men in the unit found that hard to believe when Vince told them that - and Gally would never admit it either. But Vince knew. He knew in the way Gally would slap him on the back when they finished a mission or the way they always sat together at meals.

Gally was like an older brother to Vince. He looked up to him like the Evening Star. And Gally almost wished he wouldn’t.

Next to the chair full of bones was a table covered in random junk it seemed, sprinkled with a heavy layer of dust. Gally quickly sifted through the items just in case. An old mug. A jewelry box full of useless trinkets. And a little paperback book that he easily stuffed into the largest pocket of his kevlar vest.

“You find anything in there, boss?” Vince called.

“No. Nothing.” Gally did another quick glance around the room to make sure.

“You’re spending a lot of time in there for nothing.” Gally opened his mouth to give an equally snarky reply, but the words died on his tongue when Vince went on, “Come take a look at this.”

In the corner of the shop, Vince was sitting on the floor, a neat stack of wood and a pile of dirt next to him.

“What’d you find?” Gally asked as he approached.

“Medicine.” Vince threw an orange bottle at Gally who caught it with ease, “Antibiotics, steroids, allergy pills. The works.”

“Huh.” Gally turned the bottle over in his hand, “Place must’ve been a pharmacy or something.”

“Joanie’s gonna love us when we get back,” Vince smiled as he began to gather the medicine bottles together.

Gally’s mouth involuntarily twitched at the girl’s name, his hand instinctively touching the book in his pocket. He had been finding them for her for years. Always keeping his eyes open for worn pages amongst the rubble. Of course, he never told anyone he was looking, but people noticed anyway. Whenever he would sneak off after a mission to the medical wing, the other men in his unit would give each other knowing grins and playful shoves not to say anything.

“I’ll find something to put those in,” Gally said dismissively, ignoring the comment about Joan all together.

Once a sturdy enough crate had been found the two of them started to load the medicine into it. But as the last few bottles slid into place, Vince cocked his head towards the door.

“What is it?” Gally asked quietly, trying to attune his own ears to noises in the distance.

And after a moment, he heard it. The distinct growl of a Crank a ways off.

“Cranks,” Vince confirmed.

“Alright. Let’s head back. This is a good haul.” Gally pulled his walkie-talkie from his vest and spoke to the rest of the unit, “Gally and Vince heading back to the van. Cranks to the south.”

“Shanks!” Farley’s distinctive gruff voice crackled back.

Over the years, nearly everyone had picked up on Gally’s Glade terms. At first, they said it to make fun of him, but now it was a part of their vernacular altogether.

“Thirty minutes is almost up anyway,” Jameson replied next, “Jameson and Stormes heading back to the van.”

“Fine,” Farley sighed, “Farley and Crouch heading back to the van.”

“Shuckface,” Gally said with a satisfied grin before switching the walkie off.

Vince cackled at the exchange as Gally lifted the crate with both hands. The two of them exited the shop and started heading back towards the van with smiles on their faces. It was unusual for a supply run to be this successful.

“Waddaya think’s for dinner tonight?” Vince asked as they walked.

“Something terrible — as per usual,” Gally snorted.

“Will you wait to give Joanie the book before or after?”

“What?” Gally looked like he could’ve snapped his neck, even with the respirator covering his face, the only thing giving his embarrassment away being the patches of red on his neck.

“I noticed you always searching for ‘em. And Joanie’s the only one who reads at base. I’m not stupid.” Vince shrugged, knowing from experience that being on Gally’s bad side was not ideal. “I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

Sometimes that kid was too observant for his own good.

“You better not. Or I’ll beat your ass.” Gally looked over at him pointedly, trying to gain control over the sudden heat he felt in his face.

“Yeah, yeah — I know.” Vince rolled his eyes with a knowing grin as they walked past a towering pile of the remains of a skyscraper.

The two men turned towards the hill at the sound of debris tumbling down the side, the echoes of it rebounding in their ears. They both knew rocks don’t fall on their own, so they looked up, only to see a Crank coming over the top of the hill.

“Closer than I thought,” Vince commented off-handedly.

Before their eyes, the one Crank turned into a host. All of them crawling their way over the ridge and screeching when they spotted Gally and Vince at the bottom. They all stumbled down the hill at break-neck speeds. Cranks killed themselves to fill their insatiable need to attack anything that moved, and that was perfectly exampled in the way they tripped over each other coming down the hill. Some of them crashed completely and landed with the remains of their bones sitting at odd angles, still crying out in archaic rage.

Gally grabbed Vince by the vest and yanked him ahead of himself, “Go! Go!”

They might have had guns and training, but that meant absolutely nothing when face to face with that many Cranks. So they took off at a run towards the van, the growls and screams of Cranks hot on their tails.

“Shit!” Vince yelled as Gally ran ahead of him, his shorter frame giving him a disadvantage.

Gally looked back to see his partner falling behind, his respirator fogging with his panting breath, “Come on, Vince! We’re almost there!”

With the crate still held tightly in his hands, Gally pushed forward, narrowly avoiding the obstacles of rock and stone in his path. He rounded a corner and there it was: The van. Safety. Promise of a future. Hope that they would make it out alive. Gally looked back over his shoulder, to make sure Vince was still behind him, only to see a Crank grab the younger man by the shoulder and pull him back.

“No! No! Get off!” Vince screamed as the Cranks started to claw at him, to tear him apart. He pulled his gun in front of him as best he could and started to fire, but there were too many of them.

“Vince!” Gally cried.

Everything was in slow motion. Gally could see through the horde of Cranks. Vince’s terrified face through his mask as he accepted his fate, teeth sunken into his neck and claws tearing his clothes. Gally saw Vince’s childhood on the street, begging for scraps and just wanting to belong. His first day in the Right Arm, scared and wandering off when he wasn’t supposed to. He saw Vince coming to him with every problem, in every circumstance, he finally saw himself the way Vince saw him. A friend. A brother. Someone to protect him. Then a look passed over Vince’s face, a look that said not today, as he pulled a grenade from his vest and pulled the pin.

“No!” Gally screamed just before he was forced onto his back by the explosion.

Pieces and parts flew everywhere, the dark blood of a Crank mixing with the bright red of the living. A high pitched whine rang through Gally’s ears as he sat up slowly, watching with bleary eyes as a few Cranks started hauling what was left of themselves towards him. He felt two people grab him by the arms and yank him to his feet, practically dragging him towards the van at a run. He was thrown into the back and the van lurched forward, speeding away from the outer reaches and back towards base.

“What the hell happened?”

“What happened to Vince?”

“Where did all those Cranks come from?”

The rest of the men in his unit kept asking as they drove, but Gally didn’t have answers, he didn’t want to answer. All he could do was stare at the back of the van blankly and feel the way the engine rumbled at his skin.

All he ever wanted to do was protect the people he cared about. And he had failed.

No one said anything when they arrived back to base and Gally immediately took off towards the medical wing. The other men in his unit usually joked about it, even daring to make fun of their commander for it, but not this time. This time they all silently got out of the van and allowed Gally to stalk off, unloading their haul numbly.

The entrance to base was underneath what used to be a parking garage for a shopping mall, the shopping mall was where the Right Arm offered shelter for those living outside the Last City and where meals were served every day. And right next to the mall was a church. The church was where the medical wing was, and where the majority of the Right Arm stayed. Gally made a beeline for the church, narrowly avoiding bumping into people in the bustling complex as he finally ripped his respirator from his face. He could hardly breathe with it on.

“Hey, Joanie, you in here?” he called out upon entering the medical wing. It took everything in him for his voice not to crack.

“Yep! I’m here!” He heard her gentle voice from the supply closet at the back of the room. His jaw clenched at the sound.

She was crouched on the floor taking inventory, clipboard on her knees and her fingers dancing over boxes of bandages she counted silently.

“You better have some bandages from that supply run. We’re running lower than I would like.” She looked up at Gally as he stood in the doorway, the usual smile tugging at the corners of her lips falling at the sight of him.

His characteristically mischievous eyes were vacant and red. His hands, always prepared to fight and rough with callouses but always soft with her, were balled into fists at his sides. His clothes were spattered with red and black, the true signs of a fight with a Crank. And his usually relaxed and nearly playful stature was rigid and tense.

Joan stood from her spot on the ground, her eyebrows pulled together in worry. “What happened?”

Gally swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he continued to stare at the pocket of her loose cotton overalls. “I lost Vince.”

“Lost him? What do you mean — lost him?” She knew exactly what it meant, but she refused to believe it as the tears built in her green eyes.

Vince was her friend too. He was just a kid. A goofy kid that always tried to make her smile, even on the worst days when he was exhausted and could barely move.

“Cranks. There were so many of them, Joanie.” He looked into her face for the first time, and she could see the tearing happening behind his blue eyes. She knew how much Vince looked up to him, how much Gally saw himself in him. “We couldn’t fight them off — I couldn’t fight them off. I couldn’t — I couldn’t — “

“Hey — hey,” Joan shushed him, taking hold of his hand and pulling him closer, “There wasn’t anything you could do.”

She tried to stay strong for him, tried to be comforting instead of breaking down in tears like she so desperately needed to. But she could not help the few tears that ran down her cheeks. They ran trails through her freckles and dripped down her chin. Tiny testaments to how much she would miss him, how much she hurt for him, for Gally.

“There’s always something I can do.” He looked down to her smaller hands enclosing his, his jaw muscle twitching as he focused on the feeling of her gentle fingers rubbing comfort into him, “But I’m always too late.”

Joan shook her head as she looked down to their hands as well, his much larger ones still hidden by gloves. Sniffing back her tears she focused on undoing the velcro of his glove and slowly slipping it from his hand. She performed the same task on his other hand, still steady even though he was about to fall apart. Taking his now bare hands in hers she pulled him even closer, his face merely inches from her’s as she rubbed soothing circles into the backs of his hands.

“You try and save everyone else, Gally.” Her voice came out as a whisper through her tears, and when she looked up at him with her still comforting gaze even though she was utterly broken, he was suddenly overcome with the urge to pull her closer. To wrap her in his arms and breathe in her familiar scent of antiseptic and lilac. Not necessarily a pleasant smell, but one that was so distinctly Joan that it was comforting all the same. “But who gets to save you?”

Eyes closed, he pulled her in and pressed his forehead to hers. Over the years, a lot of things had changed. Not only was Gally in a position of authority, but Joan had also taken over as head medic. All of her time was spent at base, treating casualties from missions and offering services to the people taking up residence at the Last City. A lot had changed. They were both older, far removed from the traumas of their youth yet bombarded with new ones daily. One thing always remained the same. No matter how busy or important the two of them became, they always found time to spend with each other. That common thread of the Maze pulling them together across vast distances. Or it could be a bond much deeper still.

After a moment he pulled the book he had found from his vest and slipped it into her overall’s pocket. She opened her mouth to say something —

“Gally! Thought I’d find you in here!” The pair stiffened as Beckett’s booming voice echoed throughout the medical wing, Gally immediately dropped Joan’s hands and turned to face the older man. “Lawrence wants a full report on what happened on the supply run.”

“Yes, sir,” Gally replied before exiting the medical wing at a brisk walk, passing Beckett with the crate full of medicine in his hands.

“And these — “ Beckett set the crate down on an empty cot as Joan came out of the supply closet, wiping her eyes as best she could as her tears continued to fall. “Are for you.”

She sniffed, “Thank you.”

Her hands had been steady and strong held in his. But now that they were gone and she was alone, her hands shook unsteadily as they wrapped around each medicine bottle and inspected their contents. Grief pulled people down differently. Some stood tall and dove into their work, seeking distraction from tasks or from others. That was Gally. While others could barely stand, could barely do anything without feeling wave after wave of sadness. It was all-consuming. This was Joan. She tried to stay poised, but Beckett still noticed the tremble of her lips and the steady stream of tears down her cheeks.

“So, what were you two doing in the closet?” Beckett asked.

“What?” Joan looked up from the crate with puffy and genuinely innocent eyes. “Oh — we weren’t doing anything wrong if that’s what you mean.”

“No, Joanie, you’re not in trouble.”

“Oh, uh — “ She touched the small paperback he had slipped into her pocket without a word before she picked up the crate and started carrying it to the closet. “Gally just had something to give me from the supply run.”

She knew Gally wasn’t embarrassed by anything, especially when it came to how much time he spent with her. But she was also aware that he didn’t want the rest of the Right Arm to know that he always kept an eye out for books on missions. That he would sneak into her room nearly every night for her to read to him. That she would run her fingers over his short locks when he fell asleep with his head in her lap. That he could be anything other than the hard, battle-worn leader he had been raised to be.

“Something that wasn’t with the rest of the supplies?”

Apparently, her attempts to avoid this conversation with Beckett were futile.

She put the crate down on the floor harder than she intended and turned to face Beckett, who’s face only read concern as she wiped furiously at her eyes, “Look, I’m really not in the mood for another one of your fatherly lectures. Gally gave me something. End of story.”

“No — not end of story. We lost Vince. I know why he really came here.” Beckett watched as Joan turned back to the crate and began to place the medicine bottles on an empty shelf.

She paused. “If you know why then why are you so bothered by it?”

“Because he’s only using you, Joanie,” Beckett sighed, “You’re too kind to him. He’ll only hurt you.”

“Kindness is a strength, I think.” She turned to face him now, arms crossed and tears forgotten. “One that you’ve apparently forgotten.”

“All I’m saying is that I’m seeing a whole lot of receiving and not a lot of giving.”

The sigh Joan released sounded nearly defeated, her back to him as she went back to sorting. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Beckett?”

“Yeah. Guess so.” He finally accepted defeat as he turned from the door of the supply closet. “See ya later, Joanie.”

His footsteps echoed through the medical wing as he left. Joan listened until they disappeared before she pulled the book back out of her pocket. A hand passed over the cover revealed the title: Till We Have Faces. Gally didn’t have a soft spot for anyone. He was a great leader. Tough as nails. But when he was with Joan he melted. And he gave so much more than anyone could ever know.

After dinner was finished Joan made sure the night medic was all set to go before heading to her room for the night. Abnormally, her door was shut when she arrived. When she pushed it open with a creak, she saw Gally standing by her bed with his hands in his sweater pockets.

“Joanie,” he spoke her name softly, too softly, as she shut the door behind herself.

The grief, like a wave, pulled her back under and she was a sobbing mess. Her face pinched in anguish as fresh tears rolled from her eyes and her shoulders shook. Her fists curled her sleeves over her hands as Gally crossed the room in only a few strides. Circling his arms around her shoulders he drew her into his chest, her mournful cries muffled against him. After a minute he easily picked her up and carried her to the bed, sitting down with her in his lap.

Joan screamed in agony for her friend and Gally let her, let her do whatever she needed to. And all the while he was running his fingers through her hair and rubbing soothing circles into her thigh. Vince was a big part of their lives. He always had been. And now he was gone.

Once she had quieted down, Gally spoke in a hoarse whisper, “I’m gonna miss him.”

“Me too.” Fresh tears bubbled up to the surface of Joan’s eyes.

“Remember when we caught him sneaking biscuits out of the kitchen?”

“Yeah.” Joan wiped at her face, “I remember you were so mad at him. But then he tried to bribe us with biscuits to keep quiet.”

“I still can’t believe you took the bribe,” Gally chuckled.

“I can never turn down a biscuit. And — and Vince was always so sweet.” She tilted her head up to look him in the face for a moment, studying the freckles on his nose and the curve of his mouth before whispering, “Will you read to me?”

Gally looked over to the small stack of books on the table by her bed, nine in total in varying shapes and conditions, “Which one would you like?”

“The one about marriage.” She laid her head back down on his chest when he pulled the correct book from the pile. “About being happy.”

And so he began to read:

“Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her … “

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catasoph · 11 months

Text

Return

Gally x f!reader

Summary: (Y/N) was alone the longest of time. Forgetting how a home or love feelt like, until a temperamental glader saved her and gave her a place to belong.

Words: 11.4k

Warnings: loneliness, suicidal thoughts, drinking, gunshots/wounds, trust issues, panic attacks, violence, kind of hurt/comfort

Authors note: My apostrophe stopped working through this. Please dont come at me. I already spend too much time on this. XD

The sun was just setting when a young woman walked into the club. The walls were crumbling down. All the beautiful wallpaper that once adorned the house was gone, leaving only cold stone behind. A few parts were sprayed full of graffiti. It showed obscurities and perverseness. Everything only to get by in a heartless world. The women walked in, carefully, scanning the room and nodding to a few familiar faces but never talking. Her first way was up to the bar, getting countless strong drinks to down her sorrow in. She sat there watching the people sway around her until she also felt her world taking down the framework around it, so it could move freely. Her legs automatically found their way to the dance floor, because she had been here too many nights already. Trying to forget the outside world. She memorized every wall and corridor. The little cracks everyone only looked at when they had one too many while they tried not to puke. She had mastered the art of avoiding the disappointment that lay outside waiting for her to come again at sunrise and swallow her whole.

The woman was (Y/N) (L/N) formerly property of WCKED, now all alone.

She danced until her legs hurt and her eyes were too tired to stay open any longer. Most people had already filled out hours ago, leaving her with the usual companions and her solitude until she also decided to leave. Not looking at the few remaining guests that were laying on the floor unconscious or sleeping. The nodding to the few that were still standing was reserved for the beginning of the evening. So nobody would dare try coming up to her.

When she opened the thick wooden door, where splinters were coming off and the color had already fainted, she left the darkness behind and stepped out into the light. A new day had come but for (Y/N) the roles were reserved. The light was mocking her, holding up a mirror she couldnt look into because all the sunshine had vanished. At least the club was dark, indulging her fantasy that the whole world was dark and that it wasnt only her mistake.

(Y/N) started her way down the sandy alleys, where rubble was laying next to other humans. It was true that not only her world was filled with darkness. It just had different shades. When a drunk guy was singing old lullabies with his friends, it didnt seem so dark to her. Only a filthy grey. But if (Y/N) looked too closely she would see that the old lady who, a few weeks ago, gave spare food to strangers who couldnt afford it, was now laying on the floor trying to gnaw her own leg off to stop the virus, the world got a whole lot darker.

(Y/N) closed her eyes for a moment to feel the warmth that was radiating down on her that would get almost unbearable in a few hours. When she opened them again three guards with greyish pants and a bulletproofed vest came towards her. It was not unusual to see some people patrolling the streets but these guys were sent from wicked. The helmet they wore was too expensive and protective to belong to anyone else than the remaining citizens from the last city. They were coming for her. Wicked had found her again. Immediately she turned around, trying to escape the other way but also from that side guards were circling in on her.

Her world was still turning, her feet stumbling over each other while her breathing became labored. She needed to focus, get control over herself. A hand touched her arm, yanking her forward so that she fell to the ground. The guards were around her, pointing their large weapons at her defenseless body. They were coming for blood.

When she finally stood straight a shot was heard and one of her legs gave out while a sharp pain pierced through her thigh.

"Kill me." (Y/N) breathed out.

"KILL ME! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Followed her scream. If wicked was to take her final moments then everybody would hear it. She would fight till the end, even though she had already given up. There was no way she would give wicked the satisfaction to do this quietly.

"Or are you afraid?" A deranged laugh split her throat as she looked at the guards that still hadn`t pulled the trigger.

"Big bad wicked afraid of a little girl?" Her smile showed her teeth as if she was warning the guards not to come near a hungry wolf. (Y/N) slowly stood up, her (e/c) eyes never leaving the guards in front of her and registering every movement. The woman was playing a dangerous game.

"Stay on the ground!" A booming voice filtered through the helmet. (Y/N) tsked but obeyed, pressing her hands onto her gunshot to stop the bleeding. Her eyes found the ground, closing, preparing for her final breath while thinking of all the people she loved and lost. A rain of shots was heard but no one pierced her skin. Loud thuds followed accompanied by dull footsteps. Slowly her head lifted again and her lashes flew open only to be met with the most trusting green eyes she had ever seen.

"Youre safe now." He spoke quietly. (Y/N) nodded dumbly, all air knocked out of her. The man gently took her hands from her wound to inspect it and she just let him have it. In the background, different voices made their way through the ringing in her ears. "They should take on guys on their level." "They can never just leave us alone." Her eyes flitted over the ground, looking at the guards that only seconds ago were threatening to kill her, were now laying dead on the same mud they always spitted on. A hand gently laid on her cheek pushing her face straight again, to look at the boy that had rescued her. "Dont look at them. Keep your eyes on me." She did. He gently put a band-aid over her bloody leg.

"The bullet is not in your leg anymore, but the wound still needs to get cleaned properly. You can come with us. We can treat you at our hideout." The man stood again, his serious eyes observing the alley they had found her in.

"Where they coming for you?" It was an obvious question and a loaded one at that. He asked if they came for her specifically or if it was just a coincidence. (Y/N) only nodded, avoiding eye contact, instead fidgeting with the sleeves of her jumper.

"I understand. Im Gally. Im sure we will find a place for you." A smile grazed his lips that she could only return.

He abruptly turned around and put (Y/N)s arm gently around his shoulder while bringing his own around her upper body to steady her. The other guards had been going down the little alley to search for other intruders but returned quickly to the van that was standing just a few feet away from the massacre. Gally placed her gently on the end of their car, leaving her to find her own way into a comfortable position while the other man climbed in behind her.

"You want to adopt her?" Another guard asked, taking off his mask and showing his gray hair and serious face. Wrinkles adorned every part of it, and his cheeks looked a bit hollow.

"She needs our help," Gally whispered, hoping that the girl he barely knew, didnt hear their conversation. It was deadly silent for a moment. Both men starring each other down before the older one of the two relaxed his stance. "If we take her, she is your responsibility." "Yes, Sir," Gally replied seriously.

"Im Jack. I`m one of the crew leaders to observe the patrols around the city. Who are you?" The gray-haired man asked, lifting his eyebrows which only added more to his natural wrinkles. (Y/N) was silent, only turning her hands to find more blood on the backside. "Why is Wicked after you?" He didnt sound threatening. His voice carried understanding and compassion while his eyes held a conflict. He needed to know but he didnt want to prod. (Y/N)s eyes slowly lifted, acknowledging the man but never moving a muscle to speak. Instead, her eyes flitted over to Gally, who was already looking at her, trying to find something she would never show. Jack huffed in exasperation but let the topic go. Leaning back in the tight space and clutching his gun whereas Gally watched her for the whole ride with a serious expression.

The car drive was silent. All the guards had taken off their helmets, so slow breathing could be heard from everyone. But (Y/N) didnt lift her head to look at them. Her eyes were intensely focused on her hands which were smeared with dirt and blood. Not just her own but also the blood that was rushing out of the lifeless bodies to pool around her feet.

Only shortly after they arrived at a large warehouse. The doors to the van opened just to reveal more people in the same attire, running around and chatting. In here non of them wore their helmets. Feeling safe with the comrades they fought alongside who had probably saved their life more than once.

The crew that had rescued (Y/N) filtered out of the car to walk slowly in the same direction. Gally was the last to step out of the vehicle. Jack found his eyes and nodded towards the women they had found while stretching out a hand for Gally to hand him his weapon before he turned around and left them alone.

"I will bring you up to the medics first and then we will find you a room." The blond man explained quickly while helping her up to her feet. Together they hopped up a flight of stairs and put her on a bed that looked the cleanest out of all of them.

A tall, lanky woman stepped in. Brushing her unruly red hair out of her face and pushing her glasses up on her pointy nose.

"Someone new?" Her voice sounded cheery even though she looked like she hadnt slept for days. Caring for the wounded, praying that they wouldnt die.

"Yes, found her in front of a club. Wicked shot her." Gally explained monotonously.

The woman peeled (Y/N)s trouser leg away to have a better look at the wound.

"No worries, dear. The old grouch can stay." A laugh bubbled out of her throat that made (Y/N) untense her shoulders and relax a bit but never letting Gallys hand go through the whole procedure.

"It looks pretty good. The bullet is not in your leg anymore so I will just clean your wound and close it with some stitches. You had some luck, dear." The woman laughed while carefully treating her wound. "Whats your name?" Silence stretched through the room, curling up on another bed and making itself comfortable to stay.

"Well, Im Robin. The whole lot calls me Rob though. Are you planning on staying with us?" No words left (Y/N)s mouth but instead nodded her head slowly.

"I see. Youre not one to talk? I can talk for both of us." Robin smiled truthfully and already opened her mouth to continue until her eyes fell on Gally still standing in the room and eyeing the two women curiously. (Y/N) could see the intention in Rob's eyes, before she could even form a word (Y/N)s hand found its way to Gally`s, making her intentions clear. The doctor's gaze snapped immediately over to their intertwined fingers and a smirk danced its way onto her lips.

The blond man gently put his hand around (Y/N)s upper body while she laid her arm over his shoulders to stabilize. Together they limped out of the room and down a long corridor to the sleeping quarters. They all had little numbers messily scribbled on them or were customized with graffiti. Gally explained that it made it easier for greenies to find their room. A strange word. Greenie. A small smile tucket at her lips hearing it.

"Okay, all done. You need to keep the wound clean for 48 hours. After that, you have to wash it twice a day. Come by tomorrow morning and I will show you how to bandage your leg." Robin smiled at (Y/N), her head moving over to Gally to nod at him.

"Take her away. She is all yours. Give her a nice room and keep her safe from all the animals out there." Gallys deadpanned expression morphed into one of confusion. One of his eyebrows arched up, whereas his mouth stayed in a thin line. Robin turned with a little giggle around and left the room. Finding a new victim she could terrorize.

"This one is mine. The one next to it is free so it would be easiest for you to stay there or do you want to keep looking?" (Y/N) shook her hand and took a symbolic step forward with one of her legs, waiting for Gally to follow and get her into her new home.

Gally placed her softly onto her bed, the mattress dipping under her weight and the bedframe squeaked pathetically.

"Are you okay?" A nod and then silence followed. The man shuffled awkwardly on his feet, wanting to say something but hesitating. His mouth opened a few times but only hot air emerged.

"I will leave you alone now." He settled on, in the end. Gally turned around, ready to leave but not taking a step because (Y/N)`s hand wormed her way back into his, tugging him back, asking silently for him to stay.

He turned around and looked into her eyes. Memories were flashing him then that would stay a mystery to him but he could see her pain. Desperately wanting to have someone. So he just settled on the floor in front of her and let their interlinked hands hang between them.

The day was already going towards its end when the woman decided to speak her first words.

"Can I trust them?" Such a simple question got Gally to waver. Squeezing their hands on impulse as if to tell them everything would be alright.

"Of course, you can trust me." A shy smile grew on her face, looking directly into his eyes while answering.

"Ohh silly, I know I can trust you. What about the other guards?"

"They saved me. They gave me a life and something to fight for. I trust them with my life." Her smile never fell but a glow was added to her eyes. Tiny so nobody would have noticed but Gally had studied her the entire day and it was as if a bit of life went back to her.

"So, I will do the same."

Weeks went by and the everyday life started again. (Y/N)s wound had healed completely and Gally went daily out for patrol but always returned. They had found their own little routine. Gally just came back from his evening patrol, opening the door to his room and taking off his heavy clothing with an exhausted sigh. Life out in the streets was hard. Everyone tried to survive. They stole, fought, and killed. Betraying the community they once had. Forgetting that their real enemy had built walls so high they could never climb them. It was brutal and the peace they tried to bring and reunite all the people that got forgotten never seemed to be enough. A shy knock was heard on his door.

"Come in!" He said while pulling his shirt over his head. A small smile grazed (Y/N)s lips when they stepped foot into the room, holding two bowls filled to the brim with vegetable soup.

"I made a recipe from my mom today." The bowls were put gently onto the table that was standing in the room with two chairs accompanying it. Gally took his seat opposite her and thanked her.

"How was she?" Curious eyes looked up to him, while (Y/N) blew the soup on her spoon before eating it.

"My mom?" A nod followed, staring down at his own soup.

"She had the best recipes. She made the most delicious dishes from cheap ingredients." A chuckle left her lips. Soup forgotten at her side whereas Gally's was almost completely gone.

"She always sang these old songs while cooking. Swaying her hips until my dad joined her for a quick dance. They looked so happy together." A wistful smile played on their lips, eyes unfocused while remembering everything she had with them.

"She thought up stories and told them to me before bringing me to bed."

"She sounds like a good mother." (Y/N)s eyes snapped back to the blond boy in front of her. Crashing back into a reality she couldnt escape.

"Im sorry." Gallys frown deepened, pushing his empty bowl away from him to lean back in his chair and cross his arms.

"Its okay. I dont know my parents so I dont miss them. Wicked gave me a different family." It should spark happiness that he had found what so many were still searching for but his eyes were dark with sadness. Guilt spread in his veins like venom and paralyzed him every move. It was a lie that he didnt care. Maybe he didn`t care for his parents but he definitely for the family that he had lost.

(Y/N) was standing in the kitchen preparing supper for Gally. His favorite food was sizzling on the stove. An easy curry with rice. The meal had been done for a while but no noise from the vans driving back in was heard yet and no other hungry man had found its way into the kitchen. Instead, the hideout was awfully quiet. It appeared as if (Y/N) was on her own. Ghost's from another time chasing around her. With a gnawing feeling in her stomach, she took the extra portion she had prepared to bring it over to the medical room where Robin had been hauled up all day. The older woman regularly forgot to eat during the day, which led to her fainting in the middle of the corridor. Since that day (Y/N) had made it her job to provide food for half the guards in the building and paid extra attention to Robs eating patterns. She had a plate loaded to the brim in her hands, carefully watching her steps so nothing would spill and tumble to the floor. When she appeared in the open doorway, Rob is entranced in a paper laying in front of her, hurriedly scribbling notes on the notebook beside her.

(Y/N) gently knocked on the doorframe so as to not startled her. The doctor's hurried gaze flitted upwards, catching her smile and returning it with relief.

"Thank goodness its you." She breathed relieved, leaning back in her chair while (Y/N) placed her food in front of her.

"Who else should it be?"

"I thought they had returned from the attack and would swarm my office now." The woman lazily gestured, before digging into the hot meal in front of her.

"Attack?"

"Darling, have you not heard it? There were rumors that another gang was making trouble. All most all of the guards went out to keep the other citizens safe." Robin didn`t realize the effect her words had on the woman in front of her. Just enjoying her meal and trusting everyone would make it back safe.

Loss was nothing new. Everyone had lost someone or something. Their family, their friends, their home, their city. But some people had lost more than others. Their hope, their faith, their trust, and their sanity.

"Tha… That's why Gally isnt back yet." (Y/N)'s eyes found the floor, her world swaying, turning, and twisting to throw her off her balance. Her breath became short and rigid. Hand gripping the doorframe tightly to remain standing, while a piercing ring stayed in her ear. She couldnt remember it. She couldnt remember his laugh, how his hand felt. She couldnt remember the color of his eyes. She couldnt remember him. There was just darkness. The pictures she desperately tried to save in her mind were already trying to flee. Burning away to ashes she couldnt grasp. How would she live like that? With the distant memory of the happy life, she could have had before everything fell apart again.

He would fall, die, tumble to the ground like leaves the only difference would be that there would be nothing poetic about it.

He would fall and she would fall with him. At a different time and a different place with a different feeling but they would end up at the same place. Laying together as if it was their destiny that their fates got entangled.

"(Y/N)! Darling!" A loud voice came muffled towards her still ringing ears. Her eyes focused on a woman with red hair. She remembered her. Robin. She remembered his laugh and the wrinkles around his eyes. His favorite food and the places he felt safest. She remembered everything but still felt her life glide through her hands, shattering on the cold concrete floor.

"You`re okay," Rob stated, (Y/N) wasnt sure if she said it to convince herself or the girl that was still violently shivering on the floor. "He will come back. I promise." A promise she had no control over. The (H/C) haired woman scoffed, scratching her hands. Her body imagined a place to hide where the pain couldnt find her. Numb it the only way she knew how with a bottle of vodka in her hands and the desire to forget in her head. Instead, she nodded. Letting Robin take her hands and place her in one of the beds to sit in silence together.

"Look at me!" The woman gripping her shoulders orders.

"Breath. Do you feel my heartbeat? Breathe with it." Her tone softened, calming down with every intake of air. (Y/N)s bright red head was returning back to a healthier color. She could feel the sweat trickling down her nape and the tears on her cheeks. (Y/N) became overly aware of everything touching her body. The clothes on her body scratched and itched while the hands on her arms burned through her skin.

She mustered the younger one a bit longer before returning to the food that was still standing on her table, only half eaten. No one dared say a word. The air filled with tension that was created from the outside and would only break when Gally returned. (Y/N) looked out of the window onto the sandy streets where people crawled around like insects hoping to not get crushed by the world. She was listening intently for noises. Be it a gunshot or tires screeching on asphalt, anything to predict the outcome she didnt want to know. But the first thing she heard was a motor rumbling and people yelling even though she couldnt understand their words. Her head whipped around and her feet slipped onto the ground. Sprinting out of the room to see for herself. She arrived at the parking space, seeing everyone helping to bring the equipment back. Her eyes nervously scanned the crowd, rushing through the mass of people to find the usual blond-haired boy.

She didnt leave Gallys side for the remainder of the evening, pressing into his side. When nighttime came around the thought of leaving terrified her. Her bed seemed too empty and lonely. No one would chase her nightmares away that were sure to come. But Gally sensed her distress. Never leaving his side and touching him when the situation would allow it.

"(Y/N)." A soft voice spoke behind her, getting her to whirl around and crash into a broad chest that she engulfed greedily with tears spilling once more over her face.

"You`re back." The hiccuped, letting Gally press them closer together so she could hear his heartbeat.

"I will always return."

They settled in and got comfortable. (Y/N)s hand immediately finding his when he got in beside her. They faced each other, staring into their eyes and hoping to find answers to questions they wouldnt dare ask.

"Do you want to sleep here tonight?" Gally asked with a husky voice, pulling his blanket back and gesturing towards the other side. Huge eyes found his, scared and desperate. A small nod was the only answer he got, reminding him of their first days together when talking seemed to be too much for her. Overwhelmed by her emotions.

"I was also at wicked." Gally raised an eyebrow. Confusion and curiosity settled on his features.

"They tested if I was immune. I wasnt so they didnt send me into the maze but all the other children. Th…They hurt them. Put them through horrible tests and I couldnt do anything. I was so helpless. When they didnt need me anymore they send me out into a world I didnt know. I lost everything all over again." Gally scooted closer, engulfing her in his strong arms and feeling her breath against his neck. "I tried to save them and get them out but... I failed. I couldnt save a single one. That`s why wicked was after me."

"Thank you." He took a small break, a calming breath leaving his mouth. "For trying."

Gally was sitting at the edge of the roof, feet dangling in the air while he stared straight ahead. His hands held onto a white stone with a smooth surface where a sun was carved into. Reminding him of his promise to never give up and keep going. He didnt know who he had promised. Didnt know who he belonged to and what feelings to associate with it but it is the only memory wicked let him keep. Or it was just the only one that was too strong for them to take. The stone had been in his pocket since the day he arrived at the glade. His only personal item besides the clothes on his body. It was his and he kept it safe. Promising every evening that he would see the sun the next day.

Light tapping of feet was heard behind him, closing in on his figure. Someone else placed themselves next to him, their feet finding their space next to his not afraid of falling. (Y/N).

"You like this place." She stated bluntly. Keeping her eyes facing forward onto the huge gray wall illuminating the landscape. The difference was significant. The outer parts of the city where they lived were in ruins. The flare spreads uncontrollably, leaving people to die of poverty and sickness. Whereas the wall hid the rich and lucky. Mocking them with their cage of metal. The last city was majestic in Gally`s eyes. The buildings were so high and bright that they seemed to grow bigger the more often he looked at them. This wall reminded him of everything he was fighting for.

"They took everything." Silence made its way between them. Motionlessly listening to the sounds that the wind could not carry over the barrier. Wishing they could listen to something but the screams of agony coming from the streets below them.

"Yes, it always reminds me of my goal." The wind picked up, flying through their hair and moving their clothing in rhythm.

"They took a lot from you, didnt they?"

"In the Glade. At first, everyone was afraid of me but Alby. He gave me a chance so that I could show what I can do. I started building with the other few boys we had back then. The fear shifted to respect. I didnt realise it back then but they became my family. Until Thomas came. He scared me so much. His whole recklessness. It felt like he wanted to take my family from me." He laughed dryly, his hands still holding motionlessly onto his lucky charm, never wiping away the tears escaping his eyes.

"Now look at me. I was the one who destroyed my family. If I would have just made different decisions. Maybe Chuck would still be alive and we would be together." His voice never wavered. Glad to finally speak the truth that had taken countless nights of sleep from him. The shame was thrumming in his veins never stopping to flow. His head cast downwards, tears falling onto his dark trousers, not able to taint them.

(Y/N) breathed slowly. Her eyes watchfully examined the desert that lay before her.

"It hurts." Her gaze swept over to Gally. "I know. I wont give you the same empty phrases. It hurts to lose what you just wanted to protect. But for all the boys that died in the Glade, Wicked set them up for it. The selfish desire of rich people did that to you." She took a breath, trying to compose herself. "You shouldnt blame yourself. It`s not your fault."

Her hand gently lifted, wiping the tears away that Gally had stubbornly ignored. Her hand lingers on his cheek, stroking over the freckles gracing his face. When he finally turns his head, looking at the girl that was smiling sadly up at him he surged forward. His right hand met the asphalt to keep them steady where as his other one held her face gently. His chapped lips found hers just for a delicate second. Retracing quickly only for her to chase after him, holding him close.

Their days didnt get easier. Life kept on going dragging them with, but it finally felt like they had a purpose. Something to live for that wasnt hate or revenge. They lived for their future, for love. They lived for each other. Realizing that no one would fight their battles besides themselves.

"You`re okay, Rob. Lets move to the bed." The redhead clung desperately at (Y/N). Her legs barely worked and gave out again when the gunshots rang through the hideout. "Lay down. Relax for a bit. I will find out whats going on." She squeezed her hand gently, pulling a blanket over the shivering woman before rushing out of the room and down the corridor to find out what was happening.

Their routine didnt change much. Gally went out for patrol every day. Getting better and earning the trust of the other soldiers so that his rank increased. Directing small groups of guards through the city like the leader he was. It was a sunny day. (Y/N) was helping Rob in the infirmary. Moving the injured and bringing the medications the other woman had brewed. Until she heard loud gunshots ringing. Robin was on the ground in seconds. Holding her hands tightly over her ears and shaking violently.

She found Jack, the guard from the day they had saved her, in the radio room. Turning around immediately when he heard someone enter.

"I want backup down at the garage!" He hollered while marching straight in that direction the woman hot on his heels. "Stay behind me. I cant let anything happen to you, darling." He smiled genuinely before pulling down his helmet and gripping his gun tightly when he heard the screeching of tires. The first van arrived and the guards swarmed a dark-haired male, a blond boy, and a woman with short hair. They stayed at a reasonable distance but pointed their guns directly at their faces. The second van wasnt as peaceful. Grunting and screaming could already be heard when they just drove in. When the doors open a soldier and a man fall out of the van who was punching him violently. Immediately the three teenagers swarmed around them. The girl spoke calming words that got the foreign man to let go.

"Whats happening?" (Y/N) was a little out of breath, gripping the doorframe tightly while her eyes zeroed in on the gray-haired man. "The shots came from the wall. There is a mass panic down in the ruins. But Gally and the others are okay. They reached out via funk. They are on their way with a few extra men. So stay back until I deem it safe." His voice was professional, filling the tension in the room with orders and making his way already outside before (Y/N) could answer.

"Where all on the same side here!" Gallys loud voice broke the tension, bringing all eyes to him.

"What do you mean same side? Who the hell are you?" Gally hesitated for a moment before pulling down his mask.

"Hey, Greenie." The new arrivals looked at him shocked. Eyes wide, mouth trying to form words that just wouldnt come. The first to react was the dark-haired man. He leaped at Gally and punched him straight in the face which made them both fall over. Jack was immediately at their side ready to pull the stranger off but before he could the blond one spoke up. Soothing words reached his companion so that he let go of Gally.

"I can help with that. Follow me." Gally turned around ready to lead the group deeper into the hideout. Angry and disapproving looks were exchanged between the man that had attacked Gally and the blonde one.

"H...How is this possible? We watched you die" "No, you left me to die, and if we hadnt found you when we did. You would be dead right now." Jack untensed his stance, lowering his weapon a bit but still ready to kill if anyone made a wrong move.

"What are you doing here?" Gally continued.

"Minho. Wicked has him here. Were looking for a way in."

(Y/N) sprang out from behind Jack, pushing her way forward through the other guards only to stand in front of Gally and examine his face. Her hand was reaching out but centimeters before touching she backed away.

"Are you hurt?" Her eyebrows drew together in concern, looking behind Gally to see the others had stopped walking as well and were watching them intensely.

Lawrence was an intimidating man. He didnt give up without getting something in return. The deformed man was always out for profit. He was greedy and (Y/N) was sure if he had the luck to stay at Wickeds side on the other side of the walls, he always tried to tear down, he would have forgotten about all the poor people as well. Putting his greedy hands against a clean window to watch the people, he was now protecting, burn.

"I`m fine." (Y/N) mustered him for a few seconds. MInho was a familiar name. Gally had talked about him repeatedly. They seemed to have been some kind of friends in the maze but the people he had thought his family had left him behind to die.

"Dont be reckless. You dont have to save everyone." Both of them knew how dangerous it was to get into the last city. Few had tried and non of them had survived. It was a suicide mission and Gally knew it.

"I need to save him." He whispered, his eyes desperately searching hers for an ounce of understanding. But before he could find it, her eyes drop to the floor and her head shakes in disappointment. He carefully reaches for her hand and squeezes it softly. Reassuring her that he would not leave her alone in this life. She was not meant to see all the horrors of life by herself.

"I will return. I promise." Their hands fall lifeless between them. Gally rushes past her to show the Gladers the way to Lawrence, their doom.

When the conference was over. Gally, Newt, and Thomas got ready to scout out their way to the last city. Leaving Brenda, Jorge, and Frypan for leverage behind. Brenda was finding a seat next to (Y/N) in what appeared to be the kitchen space. The wooden chair creaked under her weight but the mysterious woman never lifted her chin.

Gally spoke for the group of newcomers. The dark-haired man, named Thomas, offered up his blood to heal the sick man temporarily. While they discussed some details about their deal (Y/N) stood in the background watching the group of strangers.

They didnt pay her any mind besides the girl. She felt (Y/N)s presence in her back, staring intently at them. Determining if they were a threat. Her eyes flickered over every person when someone shifted but stayed longer on Thomas. She looked at him as if he was the pest. waltzing in to destroy her dream. It was clear she didnt trust him or any of them.

The night dragged on. (Y/N) feared it would be bright again before they returned. Making it harder for them to slip from shadow to shadow and disappear into the darkness. They could get noticed by Wicked without them even making it near their friend. But abruptly the door flew open and the three stood healthy and safe in front of them.

"Do you think it will work?" They didnt look at each other. It was obvious they were talking about the idea of freeing their friend from Wicked. Ignoring every sign that told them to stop, to turn around and run, because if they took one more step they would fall into the depths of hell and couldnt crawl their way out like the last times. "Its reckless and stupid." (Y/N) retorts, hoping Gally would still hear her disapprove even though they were already picking up their bags. Her eyes tried to scorch the skin that was on his spine while he was busy leaving the room, to break into a city with enormous high-security measures. After they were out of earshot (Y/N) picked up her voice again.

"But they will not stop until he is out. Gally is their best bet." She turned her head towards the brunette, smiling sadly up at her.

(Y/N) sprang up, to wrap her arms around Gally and feel his muscles tightening around her while his heart beat against his chest.

Everyone found their place around a large table. Silence filled the air. The three men were just staring down at the table whereas the others were mustering them curiously. Frypan was the first to fill the empty void.

"Well, did you find a way in?" Thomas glanced nervously at Gally, shifting on his feet uncomfortably but never speaking up. Gally sighed exhausted. The bags under his eyes were prominent for having been out all day.

"Its Teresa." (Y/N)s head lifted. She knew that name. Memories of a dark-haired girl flashed through her mind that could not be older than her but had already lost her heart. Everyone was afraid of the flare. The disease creeping into your bones, stripping you naked of all they had been before. But what terrified (Y/N) the most was the empty eyes of people who had lost too much. Their heart was emptied out. Feelings thrown in a cage that nobody could open. She had seen that in Teresa when they were barely children. Teresa never had a consciousness. Selling her friends out to get what she needed. She was a vicious beast in disguise.

"No, there has got to be another way." His voice was rigid. He was pacing back and forth. Ready to carve his way inside if he could leave the girl that had betrayed them more than once out of harm's way.

"Like what? Youve seen the building, she is our only way in." A bit of anger seeped into his voice at Thomas stubbornness to discard his plan. "Do you really think she would just help us?" Frypan spoke up from his side of the table, gesturing lazily at the blueprints in from of the group. "I dont plan on asking her for permission." Gally chuckled lightly. (Y/N) would have expected them to look surprised or mildly uncomfortable but no one batted an eye at the statement of the soldier.

A beat of silence rang through the room. Tension seeping in and creating a fog no one wanted to walk through.

"Am I missing something here? This is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? Same dick?"

"I like her," Gally stated, letting (Y/N) and him agree on at least one thing that night.

A gasp left Brenda when Newt pressed Thomas against the fall, screaming at him. Saying without needing to even utter the words that he had failed Minho because they had trusted the girl he loved. (Y/N)s hand immediately found Gallys. Seeking warmth and comfort from the only person that would not skin them alive if they had the chance.

"What? Are you afraid your little girlfriend is going to get hurt? Hmm? This has obviously never been about just rescuing Minho." The blond's eyes were blown wide, his fingers tightly balled to fists while his nails dug into the flesh of his hands. The tension in everyone's body seemed to rise. Holding them all in a choke hold, not allowing them to breathe.

"What are you talking about, Newt?"

"Teresa!" Newt screamed at him. Leaping off his seat, that fell with a loud thud to the ground. He charged across the room, forcing Gally to shift unconsciously in front of (Y/N) to block Newt's view of her. Being a protective wall between them.

"I mean, shes the only reason why Minho went missing in the first place. Now we finally have an opportunity to get him back and what?"

"You dont want to because of her? Because deep down you still care about her, dont you?" Newt spat in his face, body shaking heavenly while panting, trying to get air into his exhausted lungs. "Just admit it." The boy sounded defeated. As if he had lost all purpose and hope for following Thomas, just repeating the same actions if the man was never able to sacrifice something.

"I`m sorry." He turned around. His head faced the ground before rushing off and leaving everyone flabbergasted.

"Newt." Thomas breathed out. His eyes stayed on Newts with a shocked expression. Searching for the source of the angry display. "Dont lie to me!" He screamed. Shoving Thomas once more roughly against the wall, making (Y/N) flinch.

"Dont lie to me." Came it dangerously low, threatening the boy with these simple words. His posture suddenly changes. Regret flashed through his eyes when he slowly lets go of Thomas.

"Im sorry." He whispers towards the boy he had just attacked with eyes that were unseeing. It was as if he had forgotten himself and someone else possessed him for the last few moments, so he could remember but couldn't control.

No one of the remaining people dared to move. They were staring at each other or after Newt. Gally only loosens his grip on (Y/N)s hand after Newt had been gone for a few minutes.

"I will talk to him." Thomas was the first to talk and rush after his friend. Everyone else stayed as if they had been turned to stone. Not talking just existing and hanging in their own thoughts, They didnt look at the blueprint but were just staring into space to find a purpose to keep going, to keep fighting, because this had felt more disastrous than anyone was prepared for.

"I will join your mission."

"Absolutely not." Gally turned abruptly, staring into (Y/N)s determined eyes. The battle was fought silently, not one of them breaking eye contact before Brenda spoke up. "I could use help with the kids." Gallys angry gaze swept over to her, ready to set her aflame while the woman in front of him smirked. Knowing he could not leave her behind.

(Y/N) put a giant pot in front of the Gladers. Having cooked for them so they would all be healthy and prepared for the days to come. They filled up their plates and started eating silently. Thomas and Gally were wrapping up the last details of their plan after Thomas had decided he would use Teresa to get their friend back and bring Newt back home safely and healthy.

They waited till the next evening. Letting everyone rest until they would start with their plan. (Y/N) was laying in Gallys arms. Following the lines on his hands and breathing deeply into their proximity.

"Sooo, you and Gally?" Brenda started, picking innocently at her food, only looking up at the corner of her eye. (Y/N)s cheeks flushed in rosy pink. It didnt go unnoticed by the other girl but she waited patiently for confirmation, so she nodded quickly.

"W…what? Gally? Tall, tough guy Gally? Always a scowl on his face Gally?" Frypan squeaked next to her. His cutlery limply hanging in his hands, food forgotten over the conversation they were having.

"So he was a softie all along," Newt smirked. Only stopping shortly his meal before continuing. Brenda didn`t even bat an eye at the stiff girl in front of her, just silently enjoying the information she got on the stoic glader boy.

"I need you to be safe." She whispers.

"Right back at you." (Y/N) scoffed.

"Im not as reckless as you." Gally chuckled lowly, burying his head into her nape. She smiled wistfully. Knowing she finally had what she always wanted. Her mind was at peace before she fell asleep.

The next day was hectic. They were trying to get everything in order before they would go to the city and had to fight on their own. Lawrence has offered to help. If Gally gave them a way in and placed an electrical device near the power box, they would hack into Wicked`s system to put a record over the cameras and let them walk through the building almost unseen. When the world became dark around them, the three boys once again climbed through the manhole cover to get into the last city and leaving the rest to wait.

When they came back a woman stumbled in front of them. Dirty sack covering her face to keep the way to the hideout anonymous. Newt placed her harshly on a chair, ripping off the sack to give a face to a disheveled Teresa. Her eyes moved around the room, scanning the faces of her kidnappers.

"Gally?" Teresa panted loudly, her eyes focusing on the believed dead glader, who sighed heavily.

"Here is how this is gonna go: where gonna ask you a few questions and you will tell us exactly what we need to know. We'll start off simple. Where is Minho?" Gally leaned against the table. His face not showing the emotion that was brewing inside of him. All the anger, sadness, and fear locked behind an expression no one was able to read. He pushed himself to a standing position. Grabbing a chair and slowly walking towards her.

"You guys don't seriously think…" Teresa's eyes were trying to outrun Gally. Moving around to find kinder eyes, fixating on Thomas when they made eye contact. Gally dropped the chair harshly in front of her, sitting down. His eyes bore holes in her skull. Intimidating her to get what they need.

"Don't look at him. Why are you looking at him? Look at me. He's not gonna help you." A heavy silence filled the room. The air was stuck in Teresa's lungs, too scared to crawl up her throat, out into the world to face the angry man in front of her.

"Well, I don't know. We don't necessarily need her, right?" Gally stands up and spins his chair back to the table. "Not all of her." He grabs a knife from the table, pointing it threateningly at her. "We just need her finger." No smile was playing around his lips to show he enjoyed the theater. Because for him she was once one of them. They had the same fate. (Y/N)s eyes suspiciously shifted over to Gally. Her eyes left Teresa for the first time since she had walked into the room. She knew how much pain she had put all of them through. She could see it in their gestures and the words that were tied back behind a tongue. Sewn up to the tops of their mouth and staying with them forever.

"Now we know you have Minho in the building. Where?"

"He is with the others in holding. Sublevel 3."

"How many others?" Newt spoke up from behind Gally. His posture was just as unreadable as the other ones. The kind smile that Teresa appreciated on her first days in the glade, was chased away by shadows.

"28."

Brenda turned to them. A small smile played at her lips before speaking: "I can make that work."

"No, no you guys don't understand. The whole level is restricted. You can't get in without a thumbprint ID." The tied-up woman scrambled to say. Trying to keep her friends safe but also all the progress they had made.

"That's why you are gonna come with us." The man she loved spoke up for the first time. No empathy or recognition showing through his stone-cold face. She had lost him. Had lost them all. For the hope of letting strangers survive. Would she change her decision if she could?

"Gally, back off," Thomas spoke up. Letting the love he held for Teresa shine through.

"You getting squeamish? I can guarantee you she has done a lot worse to Minho."

"That's not the plan. Back off." Thomas stood up, taking Gally's knife from him without the other resisting.

"Won't make a difference. Do whatever you want to me. You still won't get through the front door. The sensors will pick you up."

"We know, we're tagged. Property of wicked. You're gonna help us with that too." Thomas walked slowly over to her, holding the scalpel towards her. She nodded, silently complying and letting Gally untie her. She takes the scalpel with shaking hands, not looking up until she hears steps rushing towards her. Recognition flashed through her eyes when she saw the woman in front of her. So different but no doubt one of the girls wicked had tested. She was older. Her eyes were hard and her lips downturned. What had happened to you, little bird?

"Ill go first."

Thomas and Newt went with Teresa, whereas Gally and (Y/N) joined them through the underground garage. Making it look casual instead of closely planned. They took the staircase to get to the upper levels to meet fewer people while the cameras are still working. On the ground floor was the electrical box Gally had to open and station the hacking device in that Lawrence gave them. It was a risky plan, sawing the electrical box open in the middle of the stairs. (Y/N) obsessively checked every corner multiple times, clutching her gun between her hands. Fearing someone would come up and shoot them without them even getting near Minho. But Gally did quick and efficient work, having placed the device only a few minutes after them arriving on the floor.

After all of them got their tags out, Gally brought Teresa into another room. Locking her in it without furniture and windows. Preventing almost every option for her to escape or kill herself, while the others got ready. Everyone loaded their weapons, strapped knives onto their body, and Gally, Newt, Thomas, and (Y/N) disguised themselves as guards. She was checking her gun again. When Gally spoke up:

„Stay close to me.“ It was a scared order. Is eyes were trained on the belt, hands trying to tighten it but being unable to move properly. He huffed exasperated when he didn`t hit the hole again. (Y/N) stepped forward, taking his hands in hers, so that he had to acknowledge her. His soft eyes found hers and no words were spoken. She smiled softly, squeezing his hands to reassure him that she would be safe before Gally stepped away and set the plan into motion.

The whole level looked sterilised. No kids were living in these walls but prisoners. Milked until every last drop of them would benefit another human instead of them. They could die if it meant keeping the wealthy alive.

“Let's go.” Gally nods towards the staircase, pulling down his helmet to keep up his appearance while they rushed upstairs to Sublevel 3.

Newt and Thomas opened the heavy metal doors that kept the children from freedom. (Y/N) stayed at the entrance, looking out the doorway to alarm them when new guards were arriving. Promising to keep the children safe that have already given more than they should have.

They stormed the room the children were stationed at. Shooting the guards working for Wicked that were meant to protect the precious serum. It was immoral. Housing them in small cages where they could barely stand. For Wicked, they were objects meant to be exploited.

Part of a conversation trickled into (Y/N)s ear, limiting her concentration for a moment.

"Someone moved him up to the medical wing. Thomas, that's on the other side of the building." Teresa spoke hastily.

"Okay, take me to him. Right now."

"Let me come with you." Newt sounded worn out. Getting tired of wearing heavy clothes and running around a huge building. The disease was clearly getting to him. Painting his face in an ashy gray. He looked like he had already died, only stubbornness keeping him alive.

"No Newt, you're not. You stay here with Gally." Thomas replied. Worry laced his voice while he already moved towards the door.

"You can't do this on your own. Minho comes first, remember?" The fragile boy grabs his arm. His grip was not strong but reminded the other how strong they could be together. Maybe they couldnt win but at least they could fight. Their lives were intertwined and if separated would not be as promising.

"I will stay here with Gally." (Y/N) spoke up from the doorway, lifting the burden of a decision off Thomas's shoulders. Newt nodded at her thankfully, rushing past her to save his friend.

Creakingly the massive steal door opened, Gally rushed in and filled a little bag with glasses full of blue liquid. When the blond steps out and the door falls slowly close behind him an alarm starts going off. Red lights on the walls started flashing, signaling them to find their way outside.

As the others rush off, leaving the couple alone, the children start to mutter over each other. Their faces tense with their mouth half open as if a scream wanted to crawl out of their mouth and they fought it with desperation. (Y/N) turned around halfway, acknowledging the fear present in the room.

"It's okay. We're here to save you. But stay quiet please."

"Okay, we need to get outta here. Now. Stay close to me. Stick together.” Gally stepped forward, addressing the children with clear instructions they would be able to follow in the chaos that lay outside the door, waiting for them.

“You. You guard this with your life, you understand?" He gave a boy that was standing at the front of the group the serum. Before he takes off, leading Wicked`s property outside. (Y/N) stays back, making sure everyone left the room before covering the back of the group.

He took out his walkie-talkie, sending a quick message to their escort: "Brenda, where are you? We are here." Only a moment later a bus drove in front of them, showing a smiling Brenda who immediately opened the doors and helped get the children in, who eagerly scramble inside.

They reached the garage without many complications. Gally stopped abruptly letting the kids be covered by a connecting wall. His eyes roamed towards the other side of the huge parking space, breathing heavily from all the running.

"Stay low. Go go go." Gally lifted his hand, signaling the kids to run in front of him so he could watch the other people on the other side. When all of them are in front of him, he falls in step with (Y/N) and they run alongside each other until they reach a safer spot.

(Y/N) prayed he would find the others quickly and return to them. But her hopes were crushed when shortly after their departure guards appear close to them. In a hushed voice, Brenda tells the children to get down, hoping they will turn around and leave. Slowly they make their way toward the vehicle, guns raised. Brenda looks back at (Y/N), her eyebrows raised in a silent question. Every scenario was rushing through her head. The possibility to leave Gally behind to die was a heavy burden in her heart but she nodded. Her responsibility was bringing the scared children, clutching tightly onto each other, to freedom. Far away from Wicked so they would be safe.

"Where is Thomas?" Brenda asked puzzled, her eyes searching for her friend.

"I thought he was with you," Gally responded, sending the last child into the bus before focusing on the stubborn girl, who was already leaving the bus.

"Wait, wait. Stay here with the kids. Just wait. I'll find him."

“I will come with you.” (Y/N) decided but got a stern look from the man in front of her.

"Stay here. Wait with Brenda and guard the kids. I will come back I promise." His eyes are swimming with fear. Desperate to know that she will be safe until they arrive. His eyes pleaded with her to just give in. Which she did. Knowing they were only losing precious time, so she nodded, before stepping close to him.

"Stay safe." She gave him a quick kiss, hoping to show him that she needed him to return to her, before hopping on the bus as well. Gally pulls down his mask, clutching his gun before jogging back to the wicked compound.

Shortly after they left the wicked building behind, police cars appeared next to them. Chasing them through tight streets, with Brenda trying to shake them off. The bus swang to every side, aspiring to hit the police cars. Brenda turned into a different street, praying to finally get away, only to race towards a barrier, packed with cars and armed soldiers. Brenda reacted immediately, doing an emergency breaking that jolts all of them. They were panting heavily, hearts racing against each other while their bodies were still. No one moved afraid of breaking down.

"Sorry Thomas," Brenda muttered but it got drowned out by the starting motor.

“Hold tight, kids.” (Y/N) spoke loudly while Brenda pushed the gas pedal, making the guards in front of them scramble out of the way before they started driving through the city.

The trailer of the crane dropped in front of her. (Y/N) reached for it to secure it onto the front of the bus. Bullets flew next to her, trying to let at least someone suffer for all the damage they had caused, but the bullets just went past. Not even grazing her. As soon as (Y/N) is inside, the bus gets lifted into the air. Everyone getting pushed against their seat, while (Y/N) held onto one of the handrails in the front.

“Get out of the vehicle!” A voice bellowed.

"Give me the flashing light." Brenda shook her head vehemently. Clutching it tightly to her chest.

"Brenda, I have the bulletproof vest. Give it to me." Her grip faltered slowly. She never offered it up to the other woman but instead, she had to take it. (Y/N) held the light in a white-knuckled grip, stepping out of the bus without looking back at the immunes. She would leave them to Brenda.

"Step away from the vehicle. Put your hands in the air. Drop the weapon."

(Y/N) took slow steps until she was in front of the bus, raising her hands in the same fashion before smirking and firing the flashing light into the sky.

A red light engulfed the night sky, her eyes twinkled pleased. Finally, she was able to return what Wicked had done to her. A few years ago she was incapable of saving her friends. She failed, but she would make sure to give the children packed on the bus a chance for a new life.

When they reached the top height, Brenda whooped. Happy to finally be out of danger, only to get her hopes crushed by the loud creaking of the bumper. Frypan drops them fast outside the city, just stopping a few meters before they hit the ground. The bus falls forward with a loud crash, deafening the screams of the children. When they reached the ground safely, loud panting was heard throughout the vehicle until Brenda's loud voice broke the deadly silence.

A loud explosion is heard that shakes the ground. Everyone scrambles outside, seeing the last city burn with flames. (Y/N) imagined she could hear the screams. They wanted to save and know they helped to destroy. In this world, nothing would ever be without a cost. Without regret and doubt. They would always try to save only to see the world burn again.

"Okay everybody out."

They walk the last few meters over scorched land to the hideout but when they reach it nobody is there.

"Lawrence!" Brenda called out, hoping for a reply.

"Everyone is gone." (Y/N) spoke out the thought, nobody dared to. Her home was abandoned. All the people she had considered family left, without knowing if they would ever see each other again. She could imagine they were preparing for a war against Wicked. Without caring for all the lives they would take. Without caring that Gally was still in there.

"Just get the others. Get everybody out."

A cracking noise was heard from the walkie-talkie that sparks hope. Brenda answered immediately.

"Thomas, you there?"

"We're not gonna make it."

He sounded out of breath and out of hope. Screams and gunshots could be heard from the other side, making (Y/N)s eyes sting. Her heartbeat racing, trying to sprint towards the burning buildings itself. "What are you talking about?"

"No. I'm not leaving you. So forget it." (Y/N) could taste the sour panic in her mouth. She could not stand to watch, to listen. Her feet gave in, making her fall to the ground unceremoniously. She couldnt lose Gally. Not again. He was her life. She couldn't survive it for a second time. Her breath became rapid. All the memories of them together flashed through her mind. The future they wanted laying dead in a casket with cold hands and ash skin. She wouldnt survive it. A loud noise erupted next to her, bright lights she couldnt place making her eyes squint. Strong hands were on her, helping her up from the cold stone floor but she couldnt make out their voices, their faces. Everything was a blur until someone placed a hand over her heart.

“Youre safe. We`re all gonna be okay. We will get them out of there. Help is here.” Frypan spoke slowly toward them while (Y/N) lifted her head to look around. The scenery had shifted towards a metallic aircraft, flying them towards the high flames. Towards Gally. Relief painted over her face, letting her close her eyes before the airplane landed and she had to stand up again. The war was not won yet.

They waited anxiously. Brenda's eyes were glued onto the tunnels, the way the boys should come from. Whereas (Y/N) was pacing around, picking at the skin around her fingernails, while watching the flames climb higher and higher.

“We need the cure!” Minho panted. No air was left in his lungs for talking but Brenda didn`t need to reply. Racing towards the tunnels herself with the boys and (Y/N) closely behind. Gally and (Y/N) were the only ones left with guns, taking over to cover the others from attacks.

“There!” Frypan screamed, pointing at two running figures. (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Gally but her heart plummeted when she couldn`t spot Thomas and Newt anywhere.

The city was a mess. Cars were turned around, windows smashed and whole stores set aflame. Corpses were scattered around, while more were added to it.

(Y/N) drags herself behind the others. Her feet getting heavy and her brain hurting from all the screams and lights. A piercing pain ripped through her body. A scream ripped through the bright night sky while her hands clutched her abdomen. Getting stained with wet, red liquid. Her eyes were blown wide, looking forward to Gally who stood paralyzed a few feet in front of her, sprinting back to catch her before she hit the ground.

They took cover behind a car, (Y/N) shooting behind herself to get rid of a wicked guard that had been following them for quite a while. The others took off before the guard got hit by one of the bullets, leaving (Y/N) to fend for herself. The man falls shortly after. His eyes became lifeless while blood is trickling out of his wound.

They lay together on the ground, people moving around them but unseeing. His lips were moving, but she couldn`t make out his words. Her eyes slipped shut when she felt Gally encircle his arms around her.

The ocean was crashing. Whispering tails of heartbreak and love. Birds chirping above it, to add details. It smelled salty and clear like freedom and peace.

But her eyelids were heavy, refusing to open, while her body dragged her back down to darkness. It was war, fighting. A battle she couldn't lose.

She slipped in and out of dreamless sleep. Accompanying her until she felt ready to see the new world. The world they had created.

Slowly her eyes opened, registering the grey ceiling above her, it looked trist and old.

Wind swept through the open door, flying over her face, gently tickling her awake. Forcing her to move her head and acknowledge the blue paradise outside of her shed.

"Hey." A voice rasped beside her. Her eyes blinked blearily to focus on the man who had stayed at her side.

"Hey." Her voice was croaky and broken but it reached its destination. A tired smile played around his lips, while he took her hands.

"I missed you." Gally gave her a glass of water that was already prepared at her bedside table.

She nodded in gratefulness and tried sitting up, but a jolt went through her body, making her wince in pain. Hands automatically reached to her stomach.

"You got shot at the last city." He gently helped her to get her upper body straight. Positioning it gently on the pillows. Before bringing the glass towards her lips.

"Rob did everything she could. She saved you." His eyes were downcast. Avoiding her eyes.

"It's not your fault."

"But it is."

"There was nothing you could have done."

"I…I should have taken care of you. Looked out better."

"Gally, there is nothing you anyone could have done." (Y/N)'s eyes were truthful. Her face gentle with no regret etched onto it.

They sat in silence. Thinking about all the smoke and gunshots filling the air a few days ago, while the waves gently tried to wash away their sorrows.

"We're safe now. The boat got ready today. We will go to the safe haven this evening." Gally spoke up. His voice was a hopeful whisper. He that if he spoke of it their luck would run out and they couldn't reach paradise again.

A peaceful expression reached (Y/N)'s face. She let her eyelids fall shut again. A sigh that was trapped inside of her for years finally found the light of day.

"I will bring you to paradise. I promise." Gally cupped her face, breathing a kiss onto her forehead.

"You have said that before, you know? When we were children." (Y/N)'s expression never changed. Unconcerned about the secret she had just revealed.

"When we were Children?"

"Mhh, I already met you at the wicked camp." Her eyes opened abruptly, facing him again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier." She studied his expression but his face remained stoic not showing what he felt.

"I don't remember."

"That's okay. It was a long time ago." Her body relaxed at that.

"Is that why you trusted me when we picked you up at the ruins?" She nodded. Their memories fluttered through her brain chasing each other and creating their relationship.

"I fell in love with you again."

"I fell in love with you too."

Her eyes closed. Smiling warmly. Her mind felt at ease. The pain in her abdomen not hurting as badly as it did moments ago. Warmth spread through her body and she thought if dying felt like this she would enjoy it. Because it smelled like freedom and peace and love.

But she would open her eyes again, a few hours later on a boat in the middle of the ocean and they would already see their paradise.

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