Far as Forever [Gally x Reader]
Pairing: Gally x Reader. Words: 3k. Disclaimer: This gets smutty. Real smutty. The characters are 18+ as are those reading it. P in V, the whole banana split. Notes: I have an idea for a prequel and/or sequel, would love to know if that's something anyone would be interested in. Thanks!
“Did your friends find what they were looking for?” Gally had just ducked down to slip under the curtain when you asked. You hadn't needed to look up, the sound of Gally's footsteps was as familiar to you as cars backfiring and people yelling.
Gally mumbled something that resembled a ‘yeah’ before stretching his arms out in front of him. He sat down on a trunk and started to pull off his boots and then his socks, noticing you were stitching up a hole in a black jacket. He knew it belonged to someone else in the Red Arm by the style of it.
“You okay?” You weren't staring, but you could see that Gally had a lot on his mind. That wasn't unusual for either of you, but this was different. There was something more melancholy about his tension since others from his Glade showed up.
Gally tied the waistband of his sweatpants tighter before crawling over the blankets to lay beside you. He preferred the ground to the hammock sometimes. You had padded it with enough blankets that it was cozy even on the worst nights.
“Hey, can you stop that for a second?” He reached over and gently pushed the jacket down, your hands following suit. It took a second to put your needle and thread down, but you gave Gally your full attention. “Things are going to get hectic fast.” He was warning you as if you hadn't grown up on this side of the wall amongst crime and strife. What was he warning you for? Did he forget that it was you who had helped nurse him back to health after Lawrence saved him? How many more times did he have to assist as you popped someone's dislocated limb back in place?
He put a hand on your stomach, a ratty throw keeping his touch from your skin. He looked serious, like the first time he walked you home as if it was an assigned job or something. You had continuously tried to lighten the mood and ask questions, but Gally was no nonsense. It took a long time to crack through his intense exterior.
“There's really only one opportunity to get to Minho which means only one shot to get into their headquarters all together.” As Gally explained, you scratched lightly at the crown of his head, moving toward the nape of his neck. You felt a stitch and then another, all of them more precise and clean than what you could do with the crummy supplies the Red Arm had.
Tightly, your brows frowned over your eyes as you grazed the spot and looked to Gally for answers.
“We got our chips taken out. WICKED can't detect me now.” The actual procedure had stung, but Gally did feel good. It was as close to freedom as he had ever known. Nobody owned him anymore. “We put together a plan. Tomorrow night. We're infiltrating WICKED.”
“What's the plan?” Eagerly, you sat up even taller, ready to listen.
“You're going to leave in the afternoon. Before I go.” It wasn't at all what you thought he was going to say and it showed. “Red Arm is going to destroy the wall, but you'll be on your way by then. There's some sort of safe place…you're going to go in one of the vans with some of the others and drive to a checkpoint where there will be - ”
“No.” Maybe you sounded like a child, but you didn't care.
“I'm going to meet you in a safe place."
“Gally, no. I'm going with you. Taking on Wicked by yourself is suicide.”
“I won't be by myself. We have a plan. I'm going with Thomas, and Newt, and Fry, and…” He almost forgot her name. “Brenda.”
“And me.”
“Absolutely not. I don't want you anywhere near the building. You're going to be at least 100 miles West before I'm on the other side of the wall.”
“What if someone is injured? I always stay in case someone is hurt.” Long before you were an ally of the Red Arm, this had been your job. A naturopath mother and fighter for a father had made you something of a valuable resource to Lawrence and crew.
“No, ______, you're not listening to me.” He squeezed your hand, willing you to focus.
“No, I'm not because I am not going to just leave while you play vigilante in a building where everyone is heavily armed and wants you dead.”
“I will throw you in one of the vans myself, ________.” He meant it too. His tone didn't give him away, you just knew. Gally would throw you over his shoulder as if you were made of feathers and then buckle you up tightly in one of the windowless vans without a second thought if he had to.
In an effort to compose himself, Gally dropped his head and took a deep breath.
“When do you know me to not fight like Hell, huh?” He was on death's doorstep when you first met him, but he had pushed himself to recover and become stronger. Still, this was WICKED. It was walking straight into the lion's mouth dressed in a meat suit. “I am going to do everything I can to make sure I get to you, okay?” Gally squinted, trying to see if he could make out any of your thoughts. “I won't be able to think straight if you're with me. I need to be sure you're safe.”
“I need to be sure you're safe.” You hadn't met any of the Gladers he took off with today. They were just names from stories Gally told you late at night when there was too much unrest in the city to fall asleep. He never referred to them as his “friends”. In fact, he had said they despised him. Thomas was the reason Gally currently had a red mark on his face.
His hand reached for your furthest hip and he pulled you up as close as you could be to him without becoming one, “Babe, this is what we have been working toward. If you want help, and I know you do, you pack up tomorrow morning, get in a van, get to the Berg, and wait for me in the safe place.” He poked his finger into your chest, driving home his point.
Your teeth were biting down on your gums in an effort to prevent yourself from getting too upset, but it was futile when you felt a storm of concern swirling inside yourself. Gally's voice may have been pleading, but his face was serious. There was no wiggle room.
Gally nodded to the wall nearest to you, his backpack slumped in the corner by a couple books, the light source, and a couple metal water bottles.
“Pass me that.”
You did as he asked, but not without a childish scowl that made him scoff with amusement. Gally riffled with both hands in the sack before pulling out a pocket-sized knife. In the hard oak handle was an irregular uppercase ‘G’. Gally showed you the blade, your reflection muddy in its side, but he quickly closed it into itself when your finger went to touch the tip.
“I sharpened it a couple days ago. It's the first tool I had in the Glade. I want you to take it.” When you didn't immediately do so, he carefully put it in your palm and wrapped your fingers around it. It was a piece of him.
“Gally, you love this knife.” How many nights had you woken up in the middle of the night to him beside you, opening and shutting the blade? He couldn't sleep. Too much guilt.
“And you're going to give it back to me when we see each other.” It was a promise, cemented with a confident nod. “But you use it tomorrow if you need to. You remember how to throw a left hook?” Once Gally had recovered, he had wanted to find a way to thank you and prove that he wasn't some helpless shank with one lung. His solution was to show you how to punch. You could help fix up a broken nose and clean out most infections, but he saw that all you had to protect you in the streets was luck and wits.
Gally held up a palm for you to push your fist into. He waited, but instead, you leaned in and kissed him with the same strength he wanted to feel in the punch. The type of kiss that was reserved for goodbyes. Gally reciprocated, bringing his open palm to your back side and sealing your chests together. While he was not going to say ‘goodbye’, he was willing to admit tonight was different. He hadn't told you how scared he was, how uncertain he was about Thomas's plan, how he didn't trust Teresa, how after all these years it was almost impossible to be hopeful.
Gally was able to maneuver you onto your back. A blanket still between you both. He laced his fingers with yours and held on dear life, the folded knife between both your palms. He was careful with his body weight, but his free hand was gripping its way around your body as he was gathering pieces of you to take for himself. If this was the last time you two could be together, it had to be unforgettable.
Gally took a breath, but you didn't want a second apart. Your mouth moved right to his jawline and then his ear, your teeth against it releasing a low purr that shook off his bottom lip. You moved to his neck, intent on leaving a mark, and moving down to the scar on his chest. You threw the knife over to your items, freeing both hands to feel his body, nails digging into his stomach lightly.
“You think I'm not going to fight my ass off so I can have more of this?” Rhetorically, Gally asked on his knees with his head back and eyes closed. He tried to put his fingers into your hair, but you palmed the growing firmness under his sweatpants and his fingers trembled. It didn't matter how long he had been out of the maze, he was still putty when it came to pleasure.
With both hands, you helped him out of his pants and he sprung to life, barely missing the tip of your nose. Gally had never been able to devour you while you had him in his mouth. It felt too good and he couldn't concentrate, but if tonight was the last time, he wanted everything. Wicked would have to burn the city down in order to clear out the stench of sex from this tent when you two were finished.
“Up. Up.” He whispered and coaxed your head up from what you were about to do. “On my face. Go down on me while you're on my face, beautiful.”
The main square of the last city had nothing on your pretty face. Gally had always thought that. He pulled his pants off the rest of the way and laid down, licking his lips in anticipation.
The t-shirt you always wore to sleep bunched up around your hips as you lowered yourself on Gally's face, his satisfied hum muffled by your warmth. Eyes closed, he kissed you as if it was your mouth, pulling on the lips with his own before inviting his tongue to venture in. Large hands on each of your hips, he rocked you slowly back and forth over his face while his thumbs pressed into your plush ass.
Slowly, you moved down and slid his length into your mouth. Gally was not difficult to please. He had always thoroughly enjoyed what you did to him, hollowing out your cheeks after sucking only the tip at the first, making just enough room for him. You could hear and feel him moaning between your thighs. It was a shame that he would be risking his life at WICKED headquarters tomorrow because this was his preferred way to die.
Gally was slowing down and reaching around to try and use his thumb to massage circles around your clit, the delicate bundle of nerves you had taught him to make you cum with. Gally had had no idea to be with a woman when your relationship evolved. He was eager, but terrified to touch you. There was no blueprint. You had laid out in front of him in soft darkness and touched yourself. He felt he was going to blackout, but somehow he managed to stay conscious and study what your fingers were doing and how it caused small, sweet sounds to sneak out of you.
Releasing his cock, you sat up with a gasp. It only encouraged Gally to curk his tounge in deeper and rub harder. His cock slapped his chest loudly thanks to all your saliva. Gally grinned into your pussy. It was heavenly to feel you melt in his mouth, whimpering as you came undone. He had come a long way from the guy who didn't know where to put his hands or how to kiss.
Sitting up, Gally helped turn you around. His mouth smashed against yours, impatiently and sloppily showing you just how in love he was, how much this connection meant to him. His thumb returned to your pussy, feeling it twitch from cumming moments ago.
“You don't want to cum in my mouth?” You thought that was his favorite.
“What do you think I'm going to do first thing in the morning?” He smirked and started to lift up your shirt. Instinctively, you reached for the lamp on the floor, but Gally shook his head. “Not allowed. I want to see every inch of you.”
You pulled your shirt overhead and watched as he took a mental photo, framing you in his eyes and holding onto the image. It occurred to him that he did not deserve this, but you rolled your hips against his groin and he refocused.
“It makes me feel so good…how needy you are.” He mused and kissed you again, hands sliding together up your back to easily lay you down and put himself on top. “I never need to make you beg. My girl...” Gally cooed as he ran his hands from your back to your sides and down to your hips until he was gripping each thigh, pushing his thumbs in, and opening your legs. “You think I'm going to leave you when you need me this much?” Gally's kiss was softer this time, at least until he moved lower and put your nipple between his teeth, nipping at them, and then growling as he became rougher. His cock throbbed as he gave each one attention before reaching for himself and sliding himself inside your wet mess. The two of you whined together. Instinctively, you lifted your legs over his shoulders. He kissed one ankle before holding onto it as he bucked his hips into you. He didn't need any help balancing, your pussy was squeezing him so tightly that he knew he wouldn't slip out. He could move recklessly and focus purely on your bodies combined.
“You're so beautiful.” Eyes opening, you told him truthfully. As your hand found his free one still on the ground, holding it tightly like you were both in this together, promising to be his and for him to be yours. Gally squeezed his eyes shut and thrust harder, grunting through his nose.
“I want to make you cum again.” He manage to say while panting, his face turning pink along with his chest. “Please, let me feel it. You feel so good.”
Legs slipped from his shoulder and Gally helped up to your knees. There was zero space between your bodies, just friction and sweat. You were grabbing him, over his shoulder, one hand in his hair. A leg wrapped around his waist and using his pelvic bone to get you off along with his relentless strokes.
“I love you, Gally.” In his ear, mouth hanging open, you said. He had never heard the words before, at least not that he had any memory of. It felt so good that it hurt and he had to swallow around the way it stung. He clung to you, a hand grabbing the leg around him and other to your neck. He felt you cumming, a sudden pulse around his cock, while your nose scrunched up and forehead pressed against his. Gally had grand illusions of going for round after round until neither of you had anything, but gasps left. He let himself go though, unable to hold back. He mumbled a string of inaudible curses as he came inside you and panted against your bare skin.
Pushing aside hair stuck to your face, you watched Gally pull out of you and carefully move around for some kind of cloth and settling on ripping a piece of bandage off the roll. He cleaned himself and you lazily rolled over to shut off the light. It only occurred to you now that anyone who had walked by would have seen a provocative silhouette of the two of you. Gally shrugged when you said so. Usually he was private and possessive, but he didn't care right now. This could be his last day on Earth after all. He didn't care that he had cum deep inside of you either. When he first joined the Red Arm, the other rebels gave him all kinds of “brotherly” advice namely “don't unload in the girls - even the professionals”. This was no place for a child or more responsibility. It had felt so natural and also otherworldly at the same time. He closed his eyes once he was under the covers, accepting you under his arm when you rolled in and used his chest as a pillow.
“I love you, too.” He finally said it back as you listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat start to return to normal and he wasn't taking such laboured breaths. His deep voice didn't show any signs of doubt, just like it when he said he would meet you in the safe place.
