#gally tmr

[nomoreusername]

Love Isn't Mine (Part 2)

Pairing:Gally x female reader

Summary:Ending up in the woods has a better than usual outcome.

1,399 words

Leah ended up with Frypan, Kali found Sam, hell, even Brenda caught Thomas eventually. Granted, he still gets this faraway look in his eyes as though he’s being haunted by a thousand ghosts, but that's pretty normal for this place.

Love is all around me. Relationships are thriving, people are leaning on each other, and I’ve got my back turned to them as I fish. If I have chicken for dinner one more time, I’m throwing myself into the next bonfire. I want sea food, and if I have to catch it myself, I absolutely will.

When there was finally a tug on my line, I started to reel it in. Whatever I got was fighting back, pulling on the bait. I know dying isn’t fun, but this is the circle of life. I didn’t survive hoards of Cranks to not get the dinner I want. After having a Griever three feet from my face, I’m going to get what I deserve for once in my miserable life.

Stepping back, I watched it ripple to the surface. As I was fighting to hang on, a pair of hands firmly tapped my shoulders. Adding to the suspense, Brenda yelled, “boo!” right by my ear.

We both watched my pole fall to my feet. When I scrambled down to pick it up again, I found it weighed nothing.

There would be no sea food for me tonight.

“Sorry. I didn't know you were so . . . focused?”she trailed off. I could only shake my head as I reeled in my line. I’m sure she swam off to tell all her fishy friends to hide away for a while.

“It’s fine,”I sighed, picking up my equipment. As the saying goes, you win some, you lose a million.

“So you’re done hiding away for the day?”she teased, lightly nudging me with her foot.

“I wasn’t hiding away. I was enjoying nature,”I corrected, leaning my pole over my shoulder.

“You were living in solitude again.”

“Well, yeah. A lot of nature is solitude.”

She rolled her eyes at my observation as I followed her off the dock. Seeing as it was late afternoon, everyone was out. Tara was hiding on the edge of the gardens while Minho was leaning suspiciously close, touching her arm as she laughed. Aris was fanning himself on one of the tables while Sonya was sitting between his legs.

And working by himself, Gally was putting up a much needed canopy. He had that stoic expression that fit his dark eyes so beautifully well. When he raised his arm, hammering a nail, I couldn’t help but observe his biceps. He had the kind of strength that represents hard work yet these delicate scattered freckles on his skin.

“Hello? Y/N?”

“Huh?”I snapped out of it. I shoved my hands in my pockets and refused to look at her to conceal the sudden heat that flooded my cheeks. There’s no need to call attention to the sun making my face hot and absolutely nothing more.

“Oh,”she teased, bumping her shoulder into mine.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”I dismissed.

“Y/N-”

“Weren’t you saying something?”

She slowly looked me up and down before shaking her head. Pushing some of her short hair behind her hair, she kept her pace beside me.

“Some of us are going to the beach tonight. You should come,”she invited.

“Brenda,”I sighed. My answer hasn't changed once for these things, no matter how badly she wants it to.

“Just come out with us. It’ll be fun,”she insisted.

“I was just with you guys last week.”

“The bonfires don't count.”

“Well, my social battery sure says it does.”

♡ - - - ♡

The sky was perfectly clear tonight. The stars were shining through the tree branches, though they weren't very thick to begin with. Still, it was nice that mother nature was being kind to us. I’m not sure how exactly life got this way seeing as I was a bit distracted by all the death when it was explained in that video where a woman then shot herself. I question it all the time, wonder how anything got to this point.

It's just incredible that pretty things still exist after all that's happened.

Leaning against the tree, I closed my eyes. The grass was damp under me, though my clothes were plenty of protection. I ran my fingers through it, immersing myself in the world's life.

Just as I could drift off to sleep, consistent footsteps sounded near me. They matched the beat of heavy boots walking the halls, monitoring my every move. Their beady eyes peaked at me to make sure I couldn't escape when I didn't even have the strength to move.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn't think anyone was out here.”

I opened my eyes to find the more acceptable reason for a racing heart rate. My shoulders relaxed as his figure became more clear in the dark.

“It's fine. You brought me back to the darkest place of my life, but I’m mostly stable enough to let it go,”I shrugged, giving a humorless laugh. He returned it in a way that didn't feel pitying.

“You want moonshine? I’m not sure it’s healthy when you're in a bad state of mind, but it's homemade,”he offered, holding out a jar as he sat across from me.

“I don't know what to ask. Why you're carrying that around or what you're doing in the woods.”

“I don't know. Probably the same thing you are.”

“Hiding from everyone while they have a good time?”

“Yes actually,”he chuckled, glancing over his shoulders like our somewhat intertwined friend group would appear. Crossing my arms over my chest, I put my legs out as I studied him. There was nothing exaggerated or overwhelming about his expression. There was something calmingly neutral about him despite how you could read him if you really wanted to.

And I do. Unfortunately for my closed off heart, I do.

“Why aren't you with them?”I asked, my voice suddenly soft even though nothing about me is.

He looked at the ground as he rubbed the back of his neck. I silently cursed myself for opening my mouth. I, of all people, should know how questions can end.

Right as I was about to promise he didn't have to answer, he spoke. It was barely above a whisper, like he was scared of someone hearing any kind of vulnerability.

“I don't know how to be around people anymore. I think my brain forgot how to cope with . . . connection,”he confessed, staring past me. His eyes glazed over with memories he wanted to bury.

“Your turn,”he remembered, apparently snapping out of it.

“I’ve never been good at deep connection for long periods of time,”I said simply. I can't remember all of my life, but it's hard to imagine me as a social butterfly that can open up to any stranger. I don't even hug my friends unless they're upset.

“We should probably work on that,”he (somewhat) joked.

“Yeah. Or we could find someone similar. Maybe even be able to be deeper than friends.”

The suggestion left before my brain could actually think about what I was saying. The feelings I adamentally deny to the world crawled to the surface at the worst time imaginable. There's something stupid about the stars and woods and being alone that made a bolder version of who I am possess me.

“I’m sorry. I just-”

“Did you know there's really cool cliffs near the edge of this place. They're actually safe to jump off too. I’ve tested it.”

“I, uh, no?”I stuttered out, malfunctioning under the slightest bit of pressure.

“It's a date then. I’ll meet you here tomorrow night.”

“Yeah. I will be here. In this spot. Tomorrow night.”

He smiled at me for just a second. Then, like he was trying not to talk himself out of it, he quickly stood up and left the way he came.

I’m actually going out with someone I like on my own free will. That means either I’m going to be murdered or this will be the best night I’ve ever had.

I’ve got a date with Gally. I’ve for a date with Gally, and I’m jumping off a cliff for the first time, and I don't have a bathing suit.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

the finished product | gally

masterlist

pairing: gally x reader

summary: [short series] you’re the only girl in a stone prison full of boys. it goes exactly the way you expected it too, but you have come prepared. though, not everyone has malevolent intentions.

warnings: sexism, livestock slaughterhouse, allusions to sexual assault, protective gally, pining, fluff, smut eventually, people hunting, physical violence, swearing, gore

word count: 1.3k

notes: things are about to get intense, y’all.

Sunlight peeked through the cracks of the Med-Huts' wooden walls. It wasn’t a warm light, but rather beams of cold silver you saw only when the world outside was miserable and overcast.

A heartbeat pounded painfully atop my head, reminding me of the sleepless night I had had previously. Believe it or not, falling into a dreamless slumber is a pretty difficult task when someone has just attempted to kill you. It didn’t help that Gally had spent a good portion of the night prodding more information out of me about Luke and his friends. His foot would tap violently on the ground whenever I spoke their names, the rage inside him begging to be set loose.

So, when my eyelids cracked open and I peered at the empty chair beside me, my heart had dropped to the bottom of my stomach.

He wasn’t serious, was he? When he said he would kill Luke? Surely not. He would be banished. But as I stared at the vacant seat beside the bed, a voice echoed within my mind. ‘This is Gally we’re talking about, ’ it said,and I felt my conviction grow weaker.

The outside world was much like I imagined it to be. Bleak and grey. What I had not expected was to see a group of Gladers in the distance surrounding the hut that we Builders had been working on for the past couple of weeks. In fact, it looked just about finished.

Carrying a plank of wood over his shoulder was little Chuck, his red cheeks visible even despite the distance between us. He placed the plank down beside whom I guessed to be Zart, who was hammering nails into the outer walls to secure them. I counted the fingers on my hands, assuming I was still asleep because this couldn’t be right.

Chuck was a Slopper, and he was carrying around wooden planks. Zart was a Trackhoe, and he was hammering nails. Newt was second in command, and he was helping Winston, Clint, and Jeff, two Medjacks and a slicer, fix the hut’s front door onto its hinges.

I counted once, then twice, and then a third time. Ten fingers. Not one more. Not one less.

Perplexed, I began walking over. I must’ve captured Chuck's attention because he was looking in my direction, grinning ear-to-ear. “Guys, she’s awake!”

One by one, they all turned to look at me, covered in a sheen of sweat and heaving deep breaths due to their labour. I found Gally amidst the mass, fitting in the last square of glass for the four-paned window next to the front door. He turned around, crow’s feet etched deep beside his eyes as he squinted through the bright grey sunlight, to find me watching him. His shoulders drooped, as though to relax.

A weight lifted off my shoulders. His hands weren’t covered in blood. I was so sure I was going to have to start the day with Gally’s trial for murder.

Chuck waved at me and then beckoned me over.

“What have I missed?” I asked as I stopped in front of the hut. It dawned on me then that I had never asked what we had been building, although now that it was all pieced together, I unmistakably identified it as a bungalow.

Gally swiped a layer of sweat off his forehead. “Do you wanna look inside?”

I looked to Gally, and then to the small crowd that had gathered around us, as if this were some grand opening and I was about to take some scissors and cut a ribbon. A few of the boys were smiling at me, encouraging me to go inside, even a couple of Builders I had never even spoken to before.

I remembered the conversation between Winston and Gally the night before, how Winston had said half the boys would be scared if one day they woke up and I was gone. I wondered how far that notion extended. To those I’d never even spoken to before? To Gladers I had only sent passing smiles to? Had I really become so important in the four months since I had arrived in the Box?

“Okay,” I said, nodding.

Gally bit his bottom lip, a smile teasing his lips. He pushed the front door open, allowing me to step inside. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t what I saw.

In the corner of the room was a bed, a real bed, like the one in Alby’s room, fitted with white sheets and topped with a plump pillow that looked more comfortable than the softest cloud in the sky. Beside the bed was a wooden desk and chair, a small lamp sitting atop shining a warm golden light on the walls and ceiling. There was even a mirror—jagged-edged and damaged by a crack or two, but a mirror all the same—attached to the back of another door within the room.

I looked at my reflection, seeing myself for the first time rather than looking in a rippling reflection on the Glade’s lake surface. My pants were baggy around my legs, and a maroon singlet clung to my torso. Muscles curved through my arms like rolling hills, which I imagined had grown during my time as a Builder.

Gally stood behind me, towering over my shorter form. I’d known he was larger than most people in the Glade, but seeing him compared to me in the reflection was a total mind-blower. He was so tall and broad that my entire body was shrouded by his. If he wrapped his arms around me, I would completely disappear into the mass of him. There was so much of him.

“Here. There’s more.” He reached around me to push the door open. On the other side was another room, albeit much smaller, containing a metal bucket full of water with a sponge floating on the surface. “Thought you might like your own place to wash instead of with all us boys,” Gally explained. Next to the bucket was what looked to be a wooden seat resembling a toilet. To my deepest gratitude, it came with a lid.

“This is all for me?” I asked. I spun around, taking in my new surroundings. “You all made this for me?”

Gally hummed a casual, “Mhm,” as if he had done me a simple favour.

A rock lodged itself inside my throat, and my eyes began to water. I thought they were all scared of me. I thought they hated me. I looked to Gally, feeling a deep need to grab him by the neck and pull him into a deep kiss, but then I remembered the audience waiting outside the front door.

“I don’t know how to thank you all. This is…” I shook my head, unable to find words profound enough to explain my appreciation.

“You don’t have to,” Gally replied. “You’ve been through enough to not owe anyone anything. The guys out there were just happy to contribute to protecting you.” He took a step toward me, and I glanced at the boys outside nervously, worried they could see the totally non-platonic way Gally was staring at me. He stopped inches away from my body, his hand barely touching my own. “I was happy to protect you.”

“Gally…” I whispered, my skin burning to touch his. I had half a mind to close the front door and put the bed he had built to good use. “They’re right outside.”

“Then you should stop looking at me like that,” he whispered in return.

“Like what?”

He sucked in a breath. “Like you’re thinking of all the ways you could thank me without saying a word.” My heart dropped down to my core, pulsing. How did he know? “Besides,” he continued, putting space between us again, “I’ve got something more important I need to deal with.”

“What could possibly be more important?” I teased.

The playful ambience drifted out of the room, and seriousness entered Gally’s body, turning his face to cold, cut stone. I immediately regretted asking, having realised I already knew the answer—Gally had spoken it to me the night before.

Luke.

part twenty-two

tags <3: @evelynstanmarvel @luvymelody @what-the-jams @lockeandkeyye @cherrystarship @sxserenity @andrianasinger @aoartstudio @annaiaweirdokid @h0ney223

[icecoldvenipuncture]

It hadn’t taken much, really. Some lingering glances, a head jerk in his hut’s direction from Gally, an acknowledging nod from you, a hand signal from him; closed fist to open palm twice in rapid succession (flashing five fingers twice = meet at ten). You’d both been a lot more apprehensive losing your clothing sober, but you’d quickly picked up the passion that had burned the other night once more.

You’re on all fours with your back arched on Gally’s bed and he’s standing behind you, thrusting his hard cock into your quivering pussy as he grabs your waist tightly.

“Are you close?” the Builder huffs out in a low tone.

“Yeah…” He is determined to not leave you without a climax this time and reaches a hand around to your front, fumbling blindly until he locates the bundle of nerves hidden between your folds. When his rough fingers begin to fondle it, you feel a jolt of pleasure zap your body that causes your arms to buckle beneath you.

“Keep…doing that….and…slower….pleeease”. The whine on that last word makes Gally’s cock ache for release but he focuses on delivering you slow thrusts as he swipes at your clit. You feel the warmth building in your core as each stroke pushes you further to the edge until you’re gripping the sheets beside your head and pushing your thighs together, riding your climax to its satisfying finish.

“Did you..?” // “.....duh,” // “Can I-” // “Yeah go ahead,”

With your permission given, Gally quickens his thrusts for a few seconds, his own familiar wave of pleasure washing over him as his cum spurts into the condom buried deep inside of you.

Neither of you says a word while cleaning up and redressing, too high off the post-orgasm endorphins to trust your mouths not to say anything stupid.

“You fuck better when you’re sober,” you finally state with an air of constructed indifference.

“Really?” Gally raises a well-defined eyebrow at you, his blue eyes wide.

“You’re less sloppy. More…” // “...Focused?” // “...Intentional.”

Gally’s heart is pounding in his ears. Your praise of his sexual prowess seems to affect him more each time you express it.

“Thanks. You’re more…responsive, when you’re sober,” It was your turn to become skittish at his soft-spoken, rather clumsy compliment.

This conversation has been backed into an awkward corner. You cross the room to his door, avoiding his eye contact in the process, ready to make a quick escape.

“‘Night” // “Yeah see you, um, later I guess” // “Yeah,”

The door closes quickly behind you, leaving Gally to curse his lack of verbal smoothness in his now starkly empty hut.

excerpt from my fic "FUCK YOU, don't leave me" on ao3. originally posted to my old blog strawberryglock around march/April '25

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

somebody's watching me | gally

masterlist

pairing: gally x reader

summary: [short series] you’re the only girl in a stone prison full of boys. it goes exactly the way you expected it too, but you have come prepared. though, not everyone has malevolent intentions.

warnings: sexism, livestock slaughterhouse, allusions to sexual assault, protective gally, pining, fluff, smut eventually, people hunting, physical violence, swearing, gore

word count: 1k

note: I finally managed to finish it omg. i’m so sorry about the weeklong wait y’all, especially since this is only a thousand words. trying my best to keep on top of myself. thank you for all the support <3 <3

Bark scratched my back.

Fingers dug into the flesh of my hips.

Gally had sandwiched me between himself and a tree, and his lips were working at mine in a manner that meant to cause my knees to collapse beneath me.

My head was craned back, almost perched to the sky, just so that I could reach his mouth. He was so much taller than I was. The old me would have felt inferior being so small compared to him, but the girl I was now endured no such feeling. In fact, a warm, tingling sensation grew in the bottom of my stomach at the thought of his large hand cradling the side of my face, which was the same size as my head.

It evolved into something fiery as he bent down to deepen the kiss and slowly let his tongue slide against my own.

We did this a lot, actually—sneaking around the Glade just to find somewhere to kiss each other in private. It was becoming quite a bad habit, but if anyone had noticed, no one had said anything. Although I was ninety per cent sure Newt had his suspicions. Some people had a resting bitch face, others a resting sad face, but Newt always had this look that told me he was aware of a lot more than people told him.

He had an all-knowing ambience about him. If I had to compare him to anything, it would’ve been a wise elderly man, but I didn’t think he would appreciate that very much.

“Gally,” I exhaled, his warm lips travelling across my jaw and down my neck.

He pulled away, eyes heavy and lidded like a drunkard.  “Yeah?”

I knew how he was feeling. I could feel it whenever our bodies pressed together, that hard length pushing against my stomach. The urge was there—to let go and have him take me then and there against the tree. To give myself over to weakness and indulge. But a grotesque sensation was building inside me with each kiss he gave, and I found myself wondering if this was what I really wanted at all.

Something tainted crawled beneath my skin, and it screamed the words, “Why else would a girl be sent here if it ain’t for our use!”  

“We can’t,” I said, and then betrayed my body by placing a gentle kiss onto his lips in an attempt to diffuse the tension building between us.

Tightness constricted my lungs. His hands on me now felt like a cage. I kept kissing him, but my heart was gone, now replaced with the darkness worming around beneath the surface. I couldn’t stop. I initiated this. If I didn’t give him what he wanted, how would he react? Would he berate me? Overpower me?

Hurt me?

Gally’s body ripped away from mine. “Stop.”

I opened my eyes, only just realising how hard I had been squeezing them shut. Gally had put a meter of distance between us, his face a picture of confusion. I took a step toward him; he took a step back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

My heart ached at the hurt in his voice.

“I don't know. I wanted this,” I replied. It was supposed to be a statement, but it came out more like a question.

“Are you sure? Because it felt like I was kissing a statue rather than a human being.”

“Don’t spare my feelings or anything.”

“You know what I meant.”

A stick snapped and echoed throughout the woods. Both our heads snapped in the same direction, expecting to see a person standing over a broken branch, only we found nothing except an expanse of oak trees. The wildlife of the forest had fallen into a quiet, and the hairs on my neck stood on end.

We were being watched. I could feel their eyes on me. They were like lasers burning a hole through my skull.

I surveyed our surroundings, looking high and low for whoever or whatever was in the forest with us, but as the crickets began to chirp and birds began to sing, I knew that whatever those eyes belonged to had left the area.

“Greenie,” Gally spoke, an edge to his tone, “we should head back.”

“Yeah.” I pulled out the knife tucked within my boot. “Come on.”

As the light of the open Glade shone down upon us, I began to wonder whether it was kissing Gally that had been the source of my discomfort, or if my subconscious had been alerting me to whatever had been watching us in the forest.

**********

Night came unwanted.

A nippy breeze blew down from the clouds, the usually comforting sea of stars hidden behind a ceiling of dark grey. I had taken a nap earlier in the day, after the incident in the forest, in an attempt to energise myself for a night of keeping watch.

It had become a routine now—climbing into my hammock, forcing my eyelids open until they started to dry like a patch of wet cement, and then eventually passing out. My goal of catching the person stealing my blankets was never achieved. My body was most disloyal to me, I had found.

This night was no different. My determination to stay awake began to wear off as sleep began to cradle me in its warm, soothing arms, and I was quickly drifting off into oblivion.

But then it happened. The same thing that happened every other night.

Through blurry vision, I caught the outline of two figures standing over my hammock.

“She’s awake,” one whispered.

And then, before I could comprehend what was happening, I heard the sound of steel rubbing against twine, and then I was hurtling towards the ground.

part twenty

tags <3: @evelynstanmarvel @luvymelody @what-the-jams @lockeandkeyye @cherrystarship @sxserenity @andrianasinger @aoartstudio @annaiaweirdokid @h0ney223

[finnlr]

something i hate seeing all the time in gally fics is him being so fucking rude, then switching up and being like "i'm in love". like what????

and we ALL know that nobody likes book gally. nobody would write for him, just movie gally, who's way more lenient. he might not be nice, but he's not a total fucking asshole the whole time (if we ignore him and thomas' beef.. which is slightly justified. fight me.) and he actually respects people a LITTLE more.

i honestly might be biased, as i am a very big gally defender (movie wise anyway) but i just want a fic where hes not a total dick, but also not a super kind and nice guy cuz that is NOT him. i just want him neutral, and a little hostile. a slow burn is the ONLY way a gally fic should be written. point BLANK. i better not see that dude get soft after like 2 interactions. i can assure you he does not give a shit enough.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

two gladers and a forest | gally

masterlist

pairing: gally x reader

summary: [short series] you’re the only girl in a stone prison full of boys. it goes exactly the way you expected it too, but you have come prepared. though, not everyone has malevolent intentions.

warnings: sexism, livestock slaughterhouse, allusions to sexual assault, protective gally, pining, fluff, smut eventually, people hunting, physical violence, swearing, gore

word count: i feel like my writing abilities are declining rapidly and I don’t know why. like, do y’all notice it or am i going crazy? sorry about to long wait as well. depression tings frfr. decided a small update was better than no update.

note: 900

The next couple of nights were nothing short of nightmares and blanket-snatching. I tried to stay awake to catch the culprit, but my body always gave in to the darkness that crept behind my eyes before I could.

People were beginning to catch on that something was wrong. I would wake up to myself gasping for air as I dreamed of dark eyes, uncanny smiles, and a knife to the stomach. And then came the teeth chattering as my body realised its layer of warmth had been ripped away in my sleep.

It wasn’t just me suffering anymore; it was everyone around me. I’d wake to groans from the boys sleeping in local hammocks, hearing a “shut up” now and then. Chuck tried to offer me his blanket once, but I refused. I couldn’t let a child go without warmth.

My lethargy was slowing the progress of the hut we were building, and Gally had made it clear how detrimental it was that we finish it promptly. He even allowed me time off work—although this was clear favouritism at play—to regain my energy. Instead of sleeping, I used this time to practice my knife throwing.

Sleep would do me no good.

I knew they were messing with me, Luke and his friends. I also knew it was just the beginning.

My knife flew straight toward the tree, nestling itself an inch deep into the trunk. The target had become a messy circle of scattered wounds, but the centre circle was still identifiable—the blade marks clustered tighter and tighter towards the middle, like a kind of gradient.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I plucked the knife from the wood. The sun seemed to have doubled in size today, turning the Glade into an oven meant to make us feel like one of Frypan’s rotisserie lambs. Half the boys had stripped down to their bare essentials, prioritising the danger of overheating; the other half were clothed head to toe, protecting their skin.

Gally was of the latter.

He was far from where I stood, working on our mysterious wooden hut with the other Builders who had all taken their shirts off, most likely due to a mix of vanity and an early onset of heatstroke. Gally was carrying a load of logs over his shoulder, which I assumed would soon be the roof, as it was the only part left to build.

Despite the distance between us, the definition of his muscles was easily spotted. His thick shoulders tensed as he brought the logs in front of him, arms filled with spiderwebs of veins, as he placed them on the ground.

I shouldn’t have been distracted by something as trivial as Gally’s body, but I had found that recently, all my mind could focus on were trivial matters. And they all led back to him.

Our eyes met from our places on either side of the field, and the space between us felt light-years across. My desperation—albeit shameful—for him must’ve been radiating off of me because Gally turned and spoke with another Builder nearby, who nodded in response to whatever Gally had said, and suddenly he was picking up his shirt, and walking in my direction.

My heart leapt into my throat.

What was happening? Maybe he thought I had just been standing around doing nothing and wanted me to start working again. Yeah, that was it. He was definitely coming over to scold me for taking advantage of the time off he had given me. I should’ve realised that being the only Glader he kissed could only save me from so much trouble.

I tucked my knife back into my boot and stepped into the forest, deciding that if we were going to argue, it would be best to keep it between us and the trees.

Leaves crunched behind me as Gally entered the woods, and an odd sensation began trickling down my body, like millions of little spiders were crawling over my skin. A stretched, toothy smile wormed its way into the forefront of my mind, followed by hands wrapped around my throat, and a knife being plunged deep into my stomach.

I wondered if entering the forest had been a smart move. Every dream I had revolved around being chased amongst these trees, and it never ended well.

“Greenie,” Gally spoke, stopping me in my tracks.

“If you’re here to scold me, just get it over with already.”

“Scold you?”

A branch snapped behind me, and suddenly warmth began spreading up my back. Gentle fingers brushed against my wrist and then trailed up the length of my arm. “You think I’m here to pick a fight with you?”

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

Turning my head, I looked back at Gally, who was peering down from the ten inches he had on me. He brushed a lock of hair behind my shoulder with nimble fingers, and I found myself wondering how this boy was named the most aggressive person in the Glade. They all had it so wrong.

“Why are we out here then?” I asked, unable to stop myself from glancing at his mouth.

He wore a sly smirk. “You know why.”

His fingers moved under my chin, and soon enough, his lips were pressed against mine.

part nineteen

tags <3: @evelynstanmarvel @luvymelody @what-the-jams @lockeandkeyye @cherrystarship @sxserenity @andrianasinger @aoartstudio @annaiaweirdokid @h0ney223

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

sleepless nights | gally

masterlist

pairing: gally x reader

summary: [short series] you’re the only girl in a stone prison full of boys. it goes exactly the way you expected it too, but you have come prepared. though, not everyone has malevolent intentions.

warnings: sexism, livestock slaughterhouse, allusions to sexual assault, protective gally, pining, fluff, smut eventually, people hunting, physical violence, swearing, gore

word count: 1.1k

note: so sorry about the long wait y'all, it's been a busy weekend. trying to get back into consistent writing. also, we hit 20k words??? oh my god, i've written a novella about gally from the maze runner, what's wrong with me?

Strong winds blew through the Glade, the usual scorching sun hidden behind a wall of dark grey clouds. A storm was approaching.

I poked at my breakfast as multiple strands of hair stuck to my lips, preventing me from eating. It wasn’t like I was hungry, anyway. Hard to have a desire for food when your desire for something else was so much more consuming. Someone else, I should’ve said. Especially when that someone hadn’t spoken a word to you, let alone shown his face.

Not much had happened after our kiss the previous night. Our exhaustion having gotten the better of us, we had retired for the night without so much as a word to discuss what we had done. At the time, it felt natural. But now, having heard nothing from Gally, I began to wonder if he regretted it. If it even meant anything to him at all.

A cold, gaping hole had been punched through my chest as I began speculating if this had been his plan from the start—get close enough to me to make my walls crumble for him, just to take what he wanted and leave me with nothing. Surely someone couldn’t be so cruel?

Then I thought of Marcus, and then Luke and Erik and Liam, and I remembered people could be so much worse than cruel. Tears welled in my eyes.

My hair settled around my shoulders, the wind having suddenly dropped off, and my skin warmed despite the sun still hiding behind the clouds. Only when I looked to my right and saw Gally sitting beside me did I realise that he was the reason for the lack of wind. He was shielding me from it.

Without so much as a word, he spooned a heap of food into his mouth, and I just watched him, perplexed. He then looked at me, surveying my face, and a smile began to stretch across his lips. I couldn’t help but offer a sheepish smile in return, feeling that hole begin to patch itself back up.

Following his actions, I began working on my own bowl of food, the two of us eating together in a comfortable silence.

We might not have had a conversation about what occurred the previous night, but it was pretty obvious what would’ve been said. In any way that mattered, we were connected now. Where I went, he would follow, and I too him.

“You gonna tell me your name yet?” Gally asked, breaking the silence.

My facial muscles ached from smiling. “Nope.”

***********

Branches scratched at my cheeks as I ran through a thicket of trees, warm blood trickling down my skin.

“Where are you?” a voice sang.

Tears escaped my eyes as if they were opened floodgates, and no matter how much I wanted to stop, I couldn’t stop the horrific cries leaving my lips. I kept running and running and running until a sharp blow to my stomach halted me in my tracks.

Looking down, I saw a bloodied knife sticking out of my abdomen, held by someone I thought was a boy, but his body was so crushed and mangled it was difficult to tell.

“Found you,” he whispered.

A sudden gust of cold wind ripped me from my nightmare, the flash of my blanket flying through the air sending my heart lurching into my throat. As my senses came back to me, I made out a shadowed figure leaning over my hammock, peering down at me in the darkness.

A scream was caught in my throat.

The blanket thief, having realised I was awake, flung themself away from me and took off into the night. I clutched a hand over my mouth, an unshakeable horror paralysing my body. I should’ve chased after them, or him, I should say. I knew who it was. Well, I had a one in three chance of guessing right who it was. I just didn’t know the why.

Why keep stealing my blankets? To try to freeze me to death instead of using their own bare hands? It wasn’t nearly cold enough for the temperatures to kill me. I lay back down in a shocked stupor, deciding I’d rather go the night without a blanket than explore the darkness and potentially run into my thief.

The image of the hut’s roof was ingrained in my mind by sunrise, accompanied by those soulless eyes that were looking down upon me.

Morning came with a whisper of sunlight breaking through the thick clouds, rain sheeting down in sporadic increments. While most Gladers had sought cover beneath various wooden structures, Gally had cursed the indecisive weather and decided to work harder than ever.

As my axe came down on a piece of wood, rain soaking me from head to toe, I suddenly remembered why Gally and I had struggled to get along in the past. He was a goddamn workaholic who didn’t know when to quit. The other boys looked miserable too; their clothes had become a second layer of skin on their bodies, and the stench of humid sweat and dirt disgraced the surrounding air.

We had only been working for an hour when the lack of sleep began to clutch at my muscles. My eyes ached, the weight of two anchors drooping my lids. I slammed down on a piece of wood, the log splitting unevenly as my swings became lazier and my grip became more slippery. My vision blurred, and the log became a blob of brown, yet I swung again, missing my target completely and burying the axe into the tree stump beneath.

The world darkened for a split second, as though the sun had completely disappeared from the sky, and I suddenly felt weightless. The thoughts previously swimming around my mind had been lost to darkness, and I was left with a gentle void to float in.

Just as I began to settle into this quiet serenity, I was ripped back to the light as a hand latched onto my wrist.

My eyes opened to a vast patch of blue sky and the sun glaring down onto the Glade. Looking behind me, I saw Gally holding my wrist prisoner in the air, my axe drawn back as though I was about to swing. I moved my gaze back to the log, seeing my hand resting on top of it.

I had a couple of very troubling realisations: one, I had fallen asleep standing up, and two, I was about to chop my hand off.

Gally lowered my hand beside me, his fingers travelling up to my upper arm and softly running his thumb along it.

“You need to rest,” he said.

tags <3: @evelynstanmarvel @luvymelody @what-the-jams @lockeandkeyye @cherrystarship @sxserenity @andrianasinger @aoartstudio

part eighteen

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

pretty fixation | gally

masterlist

pairing: gally x reader

summary: [short series] you’re the only girl in a stone prison full of boys. it goes exactly the way you expected it too, but you have come prepared. though, not everyone has malevolent intentions.

warnings: sexism, livestock slaughterhouse, allusions to sexual assault, protective gally, pining, fluff, smut eventually, people hunting, physical violence, swearing, gore

word count: 1.4k

note: IT’S HERE, EVERYBODY STAY CALM.

My brain buzzed, the butterflies in my stomach having travelled up my body and into my head. Or maybe it was the alcohol. There was no other explanation as to why I had thrown caution so far to the wind.

Gally’s bottom lip grazed against mine. All we had to do was—

“Hey, Gally!”

We ripped apart.

Over by the bonfire stood an intoxicated Zart who had an arm around the new Greenie’s shoulder, wide, loopy smiles stretched across their lips. I was certain they hadn’t noticed Gally and I’s interaction; from the state of them, they probably hadn’t even noticed they were on planet Earth.

“Greenie here said he wants a rematch!” the blond Trackhoe shouted as he almost tumbled over.

Gally looked to me, his eyes portraying an emotion resembling worry.

Everything suddenly came back into focus. I realised where I was, what I was doing, and who I was surrounded by, and the sweet fluttering in my stomach metamorphosed into a nauseating churn of anxiety. I shot off the ground, looking down at a nervous Gally.

“Greenie…”

I gasped softly. “I’m sorry.”

The orange glow of my skin dimmed into darkness as I walked away from the celebration, intent on putting as much distance between myself and the bonfire and whatever had occurred between Gally and me.

**********

It had been a couple of hours since I had found refuge in my hammock, my attempt at falling asleep starting to feel futile. The party had finally began quietening down, just the odd few hoots and hollers now and then disturbing the peacefulness of nighttime.

I imagined Gally and the Greenie sparring, over and over, the only piece of information my mind had related to the sound of boys cheering. By now, Gally would have taken his shirt off, too hot from the fire and the tackling and the constant ducking and diving. He would only be wearing pants and those leather cuffs on his wrists, beads of sweat dripping down his skin, along the veins of his biceps, and over the ridges of his toned stomach.

His plump lips would be parted as he caught his breath after winning yet another fight, his chest heaving with each laboured breath. I imagined all the ways in which I could pull the same reaction from him. I wondered if he would enjoy it.

“Oh, god,” I groaned and ran my hands down my face.

How had I let this happen? I was supposed to remain invisible, and yet somehow I had managed to find myself inches away from kissing the most controversial boy in the Glade, and now I was fantasisingabout him. Fantasising about Gally.

Come on.

I began counting sheep in an attempt to force myself asleep. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Upon reaching sheep number six-hundred-and-forty-two, I finally noticed myself losing track, and sleep gently took me into its arms. The numbers kept climbing in my unconscious mind, the sweet, woolly animals gradually transforming into more grotesque creatures each time they jumped the fence, sporting mechanical limbs and sharp blades for teeth.

Soon enough, they were no longer sheep.

They were Grievers.

I woke with a gasp.

The waking world was silent. Not even the sound of a crackling fire could be heard.

The bonfire had long since been abandoned, and everyone was now tucked away in their hammocks for the night, the smell of alcohol and vomit a clear sign of their frivolous activities. I shivered, goosebumps spreading across my skin like a cold blan—

My blanket was gone.

I sat up, dazed and confused, and checked beneath my hammock, thinking I had just kicked it off in my sleep, but it was nowhere to be seen. A breeze blew past, caressing my exposed skin, and I found my thoughts navigating directly to Gally and how warm his body felt next to mine.

Shaking my head, I climbed out of the hammock. “Enough.”

At first, I planned to seek out another blanket, as there was no way the temperature would allow me to sleep without one. But as I wandered through the shadowed field of grass, the twinkling stars my only company, I felt my desire for sleep become less and less. No one was here to perceive or question my existence.

It was only the moon, the stars, and me.

Or, it was, until I spotted a small fire burning away its last pieces of wood. And who, out of everyone in the Glade, would still be awake sitting by a dying fire at midnight?

Gally, that’s who.

He was staring into the flames, forearms resting on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him.

I recognised the patches of grass and the placement of log seats to be the same as where I had been sitting earlier, where it happened. Had I known any better, I would have thought Gally hadn’t moved an inch since. But it had been hours…

“Gally?” I spoke quietly so as not to startle him.

He threw a glance over his shoulder, his eyes finding mine, and then they returned to the flames. “Can’t sleep?”

Hugging my arms to my chest, my mind flashed back to my previous visualisations of sweaty skin and parted lips. No, there was no chance I was going to sleep tonight.

“I’m not sure,” I said. I took a couple of steps forward and sat on the log beside him. There must have been a millimetre of distance between his leg and mine.

“You’re not sure?” he asked, incredulously.

He refused to meet my gaze.

I was sure—or perhaps I was hoping—his reasons were as good as mine, which was the unfathomable urge to throw away all my plans, all my promises, and all reasonable thought to feel his lips against mine. I couldn’t think of anything else. Not the impending confrontation with Luke and his friends. Not my approaching title of being a murderer or having been murdered. Not anything.

Just Gally.

“I was sort of hoping I was dreaming right now,” I said, playing with my fingers.

“And why is that?”

My knee knocked gently against his, finally gaining his attention. His head turned to face me, revealing the exhaustion riddling his face. If I wasn’t second-guessing myself before, then I definitely was now. But I knew if I didn’t do what I so desperately wanted to do, then I’d regret it for however long I had left to live.

“That way I won’t suffer any consequences from doing this,” I said.

Before I could stop myself, I cupped his jaw with my hand, and my lips were on his.

It only lasted a couple of seconds before my nerves reached my brain and pulled me away from him.

I watched him, my leg bouncing frantically as I worried about whether or not I had completely misread the situation between us. His face was impossible to read, only adding to my apprehension.

I was about to just get up and leave with a prompt, “Sorry,” when suddenly Gally’s hand was on the back of my neck, pulling me toward him. And then his lips were pressed against mine.

The first kiss was only a test run compared to whatever this was. This was slow, like hot honey melting off a dipper, and I’d never thought having a boy’s tongue pushing against my own would be so erotic, but it was. My god, it was. His hand moved to my hair as he tilted his head to the side, our lips moulding together further.

Everything was hot. The fire’s warmth on my skin. Gally’s lips on mine. And there was this strange heat building in my stomach that I could only describe as a fire smouldering to life.

My hand found its way onto his shoulder, exploring every ridge of muscle I had been dreaming about for weeks. I was sure nothing could ruin the moment, although as the fire in my stomach moved into my chest, I realised I was wrong.

I pulled away from Gally, sucking in a deep breath. “Wait, I can’t breathe.”

He gave me a strange look, and I was worried I had ruined the moment, but then he started to laugh. He was laughing so hard that when I finally caught my breath, I couldn’t help but join him, earning a hand over my mouth just to keep the other Gladers from waking up.

I thought kissing Gally would have been the most intimate thing I’d ever experienced. But laughing with him in the dead of night was something I’d cherish so much more.

tags <3: @evelynstanmarvel @luvymelody @what-the-jams @lockeandkeyye @cherrystarship @andrianasinger @sxserenity

part seventeen