Summary: y/n makes blankets for the gladers for the cold nights, when she realises she hasn’t made one for herself she just sucks it up and goes without. But Newt doesn’t let her freeze.
A/N: currently taking random oneshots I posted on wattpad and putting them on tumblr, cuz realistically I’m never gonna make a whole oneshot book worth of content for wattpad
fluff
Days in the glade were hot and humid. Which was mostly nice. Getting sweaty while doing jobs outside wasn't my favourite thing, but being the only girl amongst a ton of boys meant I was always the best out of a bad bunch when it came to sweatiness, so I didn't really mind. But, oh, were the nights cold.
Freezing, in fact. The complete opposite of the sunny days. Once the sun starts to set it's time to grab an extra layer, it gets so cold so fast. I can't even count the amount of times I had caught boys who "didn't feel the cold" or "didn't need a blanky to sleep" later shivering in their hammocks, too proud to admit they were freezing after all.
The creators never sent up blankets though.
So, I decided to take it upon myself to fix this problem. It took me a couple months, but I sheered the wool off the sheep and spun it into yarn (that took me ages) and I got two nice pieces of scrap wood shavings from Gally, that I whittled down to be my knitting needles. Of course I have no memories from before the glade, and as surprised as I am that I have this talent, I am so glad I learned to knit before I was sent down here for who knows what.
With my DIY materials and newly rediscovered talent I knitted as many blankets as my hands could manage. They were soft and thick, and large enough for a teenage boy. Of course they weren't perfect and no two blankets looked the same, but that was part of the charm. Each had a slightly different colour due to the sheep's coat colours all being different. Some were gradient from where I had started to spin a white sheep's fur with a black sheep's fur. Some suddenly switched colours from where I ran out of wool and had to switch to another colour abruptly. And some were just one solid colour. But the colours didn't really matter, it was the warmth they provided that mattered.
That night, during dinner, I slipped away excitedly to retrieve my handmade gifts. I had informed Alby of my plans the day I thought of the idea and he thought it was great, one less thing for the boys to complain about. So, once he noticed me jogging off to one of the lookout towers where I had done most of my knitting and where the blankets are kept, he followed me promptly.
"They're going to be so excited for this." He said once he had reached me, where I stood stuffing as many blankets into a spare basket as possible.
I chuckled. "And why is that?"
"It gets pretty shucking cold in the glade, if you haven't noticed." He joins me in folding and stuffing blankets into another basket for himself to carry. "The other gladers sure have noticed. Really, would it kill the creators to send blankets down themselves, instead of making us do it."
I don't respond to this. I try not to think about the reasoning behind the small actions of torture we have to endure from an unknown source. It's better to look on the bright side, we now have blankets. And soon the whole glade will be just a little bit warmer at night.
We finish loading up our baskets and begin carrying them back to where the others are eating. None of them seem to have noticed our absence, nor our return, until Alby yells:
"Oi! Listen up!" All eyes are now on us.
I drop my basket onto the ground and begin explaining, "Um, so I think it's safe to say that it gets pretty cold at night here in the glade." Murmurs of agreement. "And so I have taken it upon myself to help out with that a bit." I pick up a blanket, unfold it and hold it up for the crowd.
They smile, some nod their heads, and others roll their eyes, probably acting as if they're too tough to need a blanky. But as Alby tells them to form a queue, no one is left sat down.
Each person is given a blanket. Chuck was first in line, so I make sure he got the softest one. That earned me a hug from the kid. Minho gave me a fist bump and thanked me. Thomas, the greenie, as of about a week ago, seemed as confused as ever, but he took a blanket and thanked me still. Alby was quicker to hand out ones from his basket, not waiting for a thank you as I was, and so he had said goodnight and left when I was only half way through my line. One by one each glader was gifted until there was only one left in the line and...one blanket.
"You made these?" A familiar voice chimes. It's newt, of course, my old friend. He was second in the glade and I was third, so we have been through a lot together; I would go as far as saying he's my best friend. I spend more time with Minho or Ben or even Chuck, but I know he's always there for me if I need him.
But I don't respond to his question. I'm currently staring at the singular blanket. I really thought everything had turned out perfectly, the last of the wool I had spun was used to make the last blanket, I thought it was a miracle that there was the perfect amount. But clearly I miss counted, and all the sheep had been sheered too, so I can't-
"Y/n?"
"Oh...um- yeah." I look up at him. "Took me, um, took me ages!" Shuck.
He looks at me thoroughly, eyebrows furrowed, and then he looks into the basket. "There's only one left isn't there."
I nod, slowly.
"Well that's alright!" He smiles once again and picked up the blanket, thrusting it towards me. "Here, it's the least you deserve after all that hard work."
"No no no, I made them for you guys. Really, honestly it's fine."
"Y/n, come on, you made them, you deserve one."
"No Newt, it's for you."
"Y/n, take it."
"No, it's yours."
"Y/n."
"I've gotta go. See you tomorrow!" And with that, I turn on my heels and walk away as quickly as possible, leaving him stood there with the last blanket.
* * *
That night, each and every glader is wrapped in their new gifts.
It's rewarding to see them all so contempt during the harsh nights. But a part of me does wish I made them all just a little bit smaller, perhaps then there would be enough wool left for me to have my own. Tonight is particularly bad, like, I can't comprehend how any of the boys are asleep when such harsh cold winds are roaring in my ears. I tried curling up into a foetal position 10 minutes ago, and now I can't move, because if I do then the rest of my hammock, which has been exposed to the elements, will surely freeze my limbs off upon contact.
I am shaking and my teeth are chattering so loud I'm scared I might wake the other gladers. I contemplate putting on every piece of clothing I have to try and insulate myself, but that would require me to move and I don't have many pieces of clothing in the first place.
I can no longer feel anything in my hands or feet and just as I feel the tears welling up in my eyes I hear footsteps. No one should be up at this time and I almost build up the will power to lift my head before the person speaks.
"Are you alright, love?" Newt.
I try speaking but it only comes out as stutters and more chattering teeth, "I-i-m-m f-f-f-ine." How embarrassing.
"You don't seem it. I couldn't stand the thought of you laying here all cold with no blanket, especially on a night like this, so I thought I'd come and help out."
I lift my head to see him stood there holding the blanket I made him. I'm about to go on about how I made it for him and I'll borrow someone's spare hoodie tomorrow, but before I could speak I am lifted into the air and out of my hammock.
Newt doesn't let my feet touch the ground while he lays in my hammock himself, him on the bottom and me laying on top of him. He begins to drape the blanket over the both of us, making sure to tuck in the sides to stop any cold air from getting in. Once he's done that his arms snake around me, and I take a moment to address what's just happened.
"Newt?"
"Mhm?" He sounds sleepy.
"Thank you."
"Well I can't just let you freeze, can I?"
We both lay there in silence, and instead of falling asleep to the wind roaring in my ears, I fall asleep to the sound of Newt's heart beating.
pairing; GALLY x READER word count; 1.8k summary; you’re reunited with gally after a tumultuous few weeks of grieving his death. warnings; mentions of death and grief, canonical type violence, angst, hurt/comfort
A/N: this is set during ‘death cure’. all the characters are above the age of 18. there will be mentions of death, violence, and the flare. if you’re not in the right headspace to read something heavy, then please take care of yourself.
FOR THE LONGEST TIME, ALL YOU HAD WANTED WAS TO ESCAPE THE GLADE. You spent countless restless nights sitting under the stars and wondering what the world outside was like. There were times when you truly lost hope. There were times when you didn’t think you would make it out alive - that the only time you would ever get a glimpse of what was beyond the grey, harsh walls would be in your dreams. Or even the afterlife.
Now, as you trekked along the depressing streets, you found yourself wishing for that blissful ignorance again. Ben, Chuck, Gally, Winston. Those names were on repeat in your mind almost every night and every morning. They died so that you could live, and that had to count for something.
You remembered vividly what it was like to see a fellow Glader die right in front of you. Sure, Ben was banished; but he had died long before he was sent out into the Maze. He was dead the moment the infection took hold of his body.
Gally was next. His stubborn nature caused his demise, and Chuck’s too. Clenching your eyes, you blinked away the anger and resentment. Gally had been your friend. He was a hard-headed ass, and too overbearing, but he always took care of you when it mattered. Even if he was grumpy about it while doing so.
There was no place for love in the Glade, but if you had to pinpoint the first and last time you felt it, it would be for Gally. The memory of you begging him to come with you haunted your every waking moment. Tears, blood, and sweat covered your face as you dragged his sleeve - crying, almost falling to your knees to convince him. You’ll never forget the way he looked at you, the way he shook you off his arm like you were some pest.
And you couldn’t forget about Winston. His death was still fresh in everyone’s mind. It was hard to forget the echo of the gunshot that had ended his life - even if it was by his own hands.
A harsh slam woke you from your thoughts. Someone had rammed straight into you, trying to pass you. Looking up, you saw them walk past a cargo truck. A tall man was sat on it - gas mask heavy and tight on his face as he seemingly stared straight through you. You shivered before looking away. The streets were too crowded. Thomas held onto your arm tightly as he maneuvered his way around. Honestly, your search was feeling futile.
If you could go back in time, maybe you would’ve never left the Glade. Maybe Gally was right.
“Over there,” said Thomas, pointing to something in the distance.
You squinted, not quite understanding what he was getting at. In truth, you weren’t even sure how he knew what to look for. The Right Arm hadn’t been heard of in years. That’s what everyone had said. You were looking for ghosts.
“Thomas-“ you started, wanting to reason with him. Words caught in your throat as a bullet wheezed straight past you two.
All hell broke loose as swarms of bodies shoved and pulled - trying to escape the danger of being shot. Newt and Brenda had disappeared. Whipping your head around, you yelled for them, not wanting to lose another friend to the chaos that this world offered.
Before you knew it, a strong grip dragged you away, and everything went black as a strange fabric went over your face.
“Let me go!” you yelled, looking at the familiar mask on the soldier’s face. You quickly recognized them as the ones who were riding around town earlier.
The car ride had been brutally long. Your muscles ached, and your eyes were sore from being in the dark for so long. Frantically looking around, you tried to find your friends. Surprisingly so, your arms weren’t tied. The only thing stopping you was the almost painful hold on your upper arm. Whoever these people were, they didn’t seem like they wanted to hurt you - or else you’d most likely be dead by now.
You huffed as you were manhandled into a room. There was something about the soldier - something about them gave you a sense of deja vu. It was the way they held themselves, the way their breaths came in ragged gasps as you stared at their chest. Each moment felt like a distant memory that you had seen before. Furrowing your brows, you decided it was your memory loss messing with you again. It was common for you to think you remembered something from your past, just for it to be a fluke.
You were quickly let go, and you jogged up to Newt, wrapping him in a hug.
“I was worried sick,” he mumbled. “Where are the others?”
You shrugged as your eyes scanned around. Spotting Brenda, you nodded to her. There were significantly less of you than you’d initially had begun with. Had they taken the rest to a different location? Your heart hammered rapidly against your ribcage as you stepped back. You eyed the familiar soldier, noting the way his shoulders squared back as he stood tall.
You shook your head. I don’t know him. It’s all just fake memories. Get over yourself. Get over yourself-
A shout interrupted the awkward and anxious silence. As Jorge began laying down punch after punch on one of the men, Brenda ran up to him to put a stop to it. All your eyes were looking for was Thomas and Fry.
After everything you had all been through, the thought of losing someone else was unbearable. You couldn’t afford another loss like that. Letting out a deep breath, you watched as Frypan and Thomas stepped up, curiously staring down the soldier at the end of the room.
Words were exchanged, but none of them stuck.
His voice. It sounded like…
“What do you mean same side? Who the hell are you?”
The soldier stopped, his arm flexing as he lowered the gun in his hand. He looked away briefly before slowing pulling off his mask. A buzzed head came into view, and you had almost no time to process before his face turned to look at you.
All you could see was blue. The color of his eyes. The same eyes you had looked into as you pleaded and sobbed. The same ones you had watched the light slowly die out of. The eyes you had so long ago fallen in love with.
Both of your gazes locked onto each other’s, and if it weren’t for Newt’s hands steadying you, you genuinely think you could’ve passed out. It was like seeing a ghost.
All you heard was a loud commotion behind you as you turned to sprint out of the room. Another minute in there and you would lose your mind.
Pushing open the door to the balcony, you panted slightly, trying to get your bearings. The cool breeze pinched your cheeks, causing a slight twinge of pain. It was usually warm during the day, but the nights were freezing. In the Glade it had always been warm - never a dull day. Perhaps once every few months you’d get rain, which was always good for the crops, but it was never necessarily cold.
Shivering, you wrapped your arms around you. Weirdly enough you had never been more glad to feel the chill of air run through your bones. It was the only thing reminding you that you were alive.
Alive. Gally was alive.
Burying your face in your palms, you paced around. You spent almost three weeks grieving him. You saw him die - no, correction, you watched and left him to die.
His face tormented you every time you closed your eyes. The tears he cried as he realized he was being left for dead, the scream that had left your body as you were pulled away from the scene. Gally was the first person you had ever truly opened up to. You had been in the Glade for the brunt of 2 years, and over time you’d like to think you had gotten under his tough exterior.
The nights where you both couldn’t sleep. Your head in his shoulder, and his hand intertwined with yours, precariously tip-toeing the line between friendship and something more.
Then, in a split second, it was all gone.
“Hey, firecracker.”
You winced at the nickname. Gally had given it to you on your first week there. He said you would give him a run for his money with the way you snapped and yelled at everyone. Really, it was just because you were scared - especially being the only girl.
You blinked away tears. “Please, don’t.”
Your voice came out more shaky than you had liked. It wasn’t that you weren’t relieved to see him, it’s just that you didn’t exactly end on good terms. Now, seeing him alive and well - and so, unbelievably tall and handsome - it made you question everything.
He whispered your name, and you felt his body heat burn unbearably against your back as he stepped closer.
“Look at me.”
Shaking your head, you clenched your eyes shut, letting a few stray tears fall. “I’m can’t. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
The last time you let yourself cry was that exact fateful day. Every single tear in your body had been used up to the point that you weren’t sure you were even capable of crying anymore.
Your back hit something hard, and you soon realized that two familiar arms were holding you to his chest. He breathed in and out, his inhales pressing against your back, indicating and proving that this was real. That he was real.
“How?” You sobbed, leaning into his arm.
Really, you didn’t care how. All that mattered was that he was here. And bit by bit, you would hopefully fix what was broken - regain what was lost.
Shifting around, you collapsed against him, wrapping your arms around his torso and gripping at his shirt desperately. You felt that if you let go, he would disappear. Just as he did the first time - when you let go of his sleeve, and he slipped away from your grasp, like he was never even there.
The only words that you were able to conjure were feeble apologies as you let yourself sob against his shirt. Inhaling his scent again for what felt like a lifetime, you finally felt like things were piecing together. Like you were whole again. Taking a quivering deep breath in, you finally lifted your head to look at him. He was just as beautiful as the day he left you.
He cupped your face as he rested his forehead against yours. You must have stayed like that for hours - or maybe it was only a few minutes.
All you knew was that no words had to be spoken for you both to understand. You were never going to leave each other again.
summary: [short series] you’re the only girl in a stone prison full of boys. it goes exactly the way you expected it to, 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
word count: 1.4k
note: this is the first fic I’ve uploaded in over two years so it might not be the best so please be kind :). i know I have had a track record of not completing series (thank you ASD and ADHD) but i promise this one will be completed, just give me time <3
Thirty-two boys occupied the Glade when I arrived.
I didn’t ask questions when I came up in the Box, though they gave me answers regardless. I imagined these answers had been given thirty-two times before me.
“We’ve been here for three years. One boy a month. Alby was the first.”
“No one remembers anything before the Glade. Why we were put here, what the outside world is like—nothing.”
“Only runners are allowed past the Glade doors. The maze is a dangerous place.”
“Non-compliance with the rules results in banishment.”
“There are thirty-five boys that currently make up our Glade. You are the first girl. The only girl.”
Everyone had a name. It usually came back to them on the second or third night after they arrived in the Box. Winston. Alby. Tyson. Marcus. Frypan. Charlie. Zart. Gally. Three new boys had joined us since I was born into our little green box of forest and forgetfulness, and yet I was still called ‘Greenie’, a nickname reserved for newcomers. I hadn’t spoken a word, let alone my name, to anybody for three months.
Being the only girl surviving amongst a group of amnesiac boys does that to you.
“Hey, Greenie!”
Blood splattered across my chest, a knife gripped in my hand. I peered behind the hanging livestock whose neck I had just begun to bleed to find a sweaty Builder—the Keeper of the Builders, in fact, or so he liked to remind everyone—hands on hips, standing in the doorway of the Bloodhouse.
He eyed the knife dangling in my hand, then pointedly returned his gaze to my face. My lips itched for a grin. Nervous, Gally? I wanted to ask, but God forbid.
“Meeting in the Homestead. Ten minutes.” He looked at the knife again, then back at my eyes. “Don’t be late, okay?” he said.
I stared at him, maybe for a little too long, because he was hesitating on his feet, unsure of whether or not our ‘conversation’ had ended. I gave him a subtle nod of acknowledgement and could’ve sworn I saw relief ripple through his tense body. He returned the nod and took off, not wasting another moment in our uncomfortable encounter.
It was all on purpose. A façade, if you will. I wasn’t creepy by nature. I wasn’t gratified by slaughtering animals and hanging them on hooks to bleed out, but it was the only protection I could offer myself.
My second day in the Glade, I was told I needed to earn my keep. No freeloaders, Alby had told me. He taught me that there were different established roles that kept the place running. There were Runners, Builders, Sloppers, Med-jacks, Cooks, and a variety of other jobs I had to choose from. When he showed me the Bloodhouse, it all just sort of fell into my lap.
I saw how they ogled me when I arrived. Not all of them, of course. Some of the boys only gawked with simple curiosity, some even with fear of my longer hair and softer features. But some eyed me like starved dogs, and I was a bloody steak laid out in temptation. I had to nip that in the bud immediately, which is how I ended up becoming a Slicer—the ones who specialised in butchering livestock.
“Nice work, Greenbean,” came from Winston, who was wiping his own knife clean with a rag as he walked towards me. He eyed the hanging carcass with an amused grin. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ll be giving me a run for my money as Keeper soon.”
I smiled, giving him a playful ‘what-can-you-do?’ shrug.
Winston was alright.
“That Gally that just came by?” he asked, and I hummed in affirmation. “What’d he want?”
After motioning between the two of us with my forefinger, I pointed out to the far corner of the Glade where the Homestead stood, seeing others beginning to make their way over. Winston sighed. Nobody liked meetings. It mainly consisted of all the Keepers arguing with one another over meaningless problems while we, the ‘lower ranks’, sat and watched.
Winston stuck his knife into my wooden workbench. “Better get going, then. Don’t want any of those shanks getting their klunkers in a twist.”
He had spoken in plural, though everyone knew only one shank in the entire Glade was uptight enough to condemn tardiness, and it was Gally. That boy had a knack for finding every and any excuse to scold, berate, and criticise even the most compliant among us. It was entertaining to watch, but being a victim of it was more infuriating than trying to capture a wild pig in a pen of slop.
Winston walked ahead of me, the other Slicers following suit. Glinting in the afternoon sun, the blade plunged into the wooden tabletop caught my eye. I twirled my own knife between my fingers, contemplating. We weren’t supposed to carry weapons around the Glade. It was a sub-rule of one of our three commandments: Don’t harm other Gladers. Bringing one to a meeting was an even bigger no-no, considering it had been the cause of two or three added gravestones in the Deadheads.
Normally, I’d comply, but sitting in a cramped room of boys brimming with testosterone seemed a good reason as any to be a rule-breaker. So, I pulled the hem of my pant leg up, slipped my knife into my boot, and made for the Homestead.
The hut was bustling, as expected. Boys were crammed into rows of steps that had been dug out of the ground and used as makeshift seats. Various Keepers were talking in a tight-knit circle, their backs a wall to the rest of us. The general atmosphere of the room was heated; another show of arguments was inbound.
Scanning the crowd, I found little Chuck already waving in my direction, calling me over. I smiled at the innocent face and took a seat next to him.
“They’ve been talking for about ten minutes now,” he informed. “Must be important.”
I sighed, creating a gun with my fingers, and pretended to shoot myself in the head.
Chuck laughed, his round cheeks a deep red and eyes sparkling with delight. “Yeah. I feel you.”
The group of Keepers finally disbanded from their circle. It was clear that they came to some sort of conclusion, except there was one Glader who still seemed to be unhappy with the consensus. Gally stepped in front of Newt and Alby, his arms crossed over his chest. Honestly, he was becoming his own breed of stereotype.
He was obviously upset about something, and if the constant motioning of his hands wasn’t indicative enough, then the vein bulging in his neck certainly was. I watched as his chest inflated with a deep breath. He shook his head, turning away from the two boys as though to restrain himself.
Whatever opinion he was fighting for must’ve been pretty unpopular. Much to my own displeasure, I found myself often agreeing with Gally’s viewpoints. If he just hadn’t been so gruff, maybe more people might’ve felt the same. I’d never admit that to him; I was almost certain he would somehow find a way to turn my concurrence into a chance to scold me.
As though the universe could hear my thoughts, I suddenly became the next unfortunate soul pinned by Gally’s angered gaze. His eyes scanned over me once, still intense with aggravation, and then he looked away.
I almost breathed a sigh of relief. I’d never met anyone who made me feel so trapped beneath their gaze. Maybe trapped wasn’t the right word. Stunned? Hypnotised? Whatever it was, it returned as Gally looked at me from across the room once more, though this time it was different. Nothing about his stare was harsh, and if the crease on his forehead told me anything, it was that he was worried.
He wiped an anxious hand over his mouth.
Why was Gally worried? And why was it directed at me?
“Alright, guys. Quieten down,” Alby voiced over the raucous crowd.
Gally and I broke eye contact to look at Alby, who was scanning the rest of the Gladers with an irritated glare. Either no one had heard him, or these boys were ballsy enough to completely ignore their first-in-command. There were so many conversations happening at once, I couldn’t pinpoint a single one.
Summary: Y/N could never forget how she left Gally there as he died in the WCKD labs. It’s something she had to live with till the end of days. When they finally make it to the Last City, all of those flashbacks are brought back when she’s face to face with the familiar boy who had her heart all those years ago
Warning(s): Lots of fluff, mentions of death, violence, swearing
Anger.
Fear.
Sadness.
Pain.
Then Nothing.
Y/N couldn't even feel the way her heart shattered, the tears falling freely from her eyes, numbly as if she was doing it for hours. Frypan held her shaking state as she watched Gally gasping for less and less breaths of air, the spear sticking out of his chest.
She watched his body give out its last movement, his eyes staring at hers as he now lay there motionless.
Before she could even break herself away from Fry's hold, the doors behind them were busted down, soldiers yelling out to them as they ran up to the group.
It was then that Y/N had begun to protest as she was pulled away from her friend's arms and into a soldier's grasp, being pulled away from Gally and Chuck's lifeless bodies. Y/N had screamed, kicked, sobbed, and pleaded for them to not leave them there. Leave Gally there.
She should've told him. She should've said how much she loved him. She should've told him they could fix him. They could've. She couldn't stop thinking about all the things she should've done.
Should've. Should've. Should've.
The sun was scorching on her skin as they made contact with the fresh air. Gunshots around them fending off any threats coming their way as they were all being run out towards a helicopter.
Y/N couldn't stop the numbness from taking over her entire body as she sat in the helicopter, frozen in her spot as they took off.
Everyone was looking out their windows to see the place they were all once trapped in for far too long. The maze.
Y/N's lip quivered as she could only think back to all the moments she shared with Gally. How it had taken him a little while to warm up to her. How he couldn't leave her alone once she was on his good side. How they shared their first kiss together. When he said he wanted to be with her forever. Everything.
"When we get out of here, I swear I'm gonna marry you," Gally laughs, setting down her plate of food in front of her. He takes a seat next to her as their friends chatter at their table around them.
She snorted and looked over at him as she bit into her piece of bread.
"What?" she smiles sweetly, her voice soft when she notices he is being honest.
He nods while eating away at his own plate. "I mean it. Gonna put a ring on you and everything."
Y/N sets her food down, grasping the side of his face to make him look at her. He had such love in his eyes. She smiles, caressing his jaw. "I can't wait."
Now she had lost Gally. She had lost the man she loved so deeply, and he would never know it.
They had reached the last city, in hopes of finding a way inside to find Minho, amid the loud trucks, guns, screams, and yells of angry citizens outside the city's cement walls, with large buildings hiding behind them.
Y/N stayed close to Newt and Brenda, keeping a hand tight on Newt's jacket as they squeezed through the crowd.
They were following Thomas to the front, where many other citizens were standing, screaming and cursing to whoever was listening on the other side.
Her gut was telling her something, and she couldn't think of what it meant. It was probably her nerves trying to break free as she realized they're so close to where they need to be.
"Something doesn't feel right," she yells out towards Newt and Thomas, looking behind her to see a large truck roaming through the crowd.
"We've got to keep going! We've come this far, we can't give up now!" Thomas says back, still walking in the crowd.
Jorge cuts in this time from behind Thomas. "This place has really gone through hell."
Thomas looks at him with a curt nod. "We gotta stay together," he says before the group continues their trek. The truck behind them is getting closer, and someone with a megaphone is yelling out to the crowds as they drive through. They all come to a halt in confusion as they watch them pass by.
They heard the hoots and hollers of those around them as they listen to the message being yelled out over the speakers, Y/N's eyes scanning their large SUV, seeing all the masked men sitting and holding onto the outsides of the car as they passed.
There was one particular man who had done a double-take on her and her group, their eyes stopping on hers for a long while, before going back to stare down Thomas. He was sitting on the top of the SUV, red gas mask on with his gun in hand, talking to one of his buddies next to him as his gaze never left their group.
Her brows were furrowing in confusion, and her gut was definitely telling her something.
"You okay?" Brenda asks as they soon all continue their walk through the crowds. Y/N bites her bottom lip, still watching the SUV before it disappears from view.
"I just know something isn't right," she hums, watching as Thomas keeps his eyes on the SUVs too. "Like something bad is about to happen."
Brenda scoffs with a dry laugh. "Well, I could've told you that. We're pretty much walking into death row."
The group had walked through a tunnel and out to a large opening, Thomas patting Jorge's arm while pointing. "That's it. That's our way in!"
Y/N looks between Thomas and the entryway that was cemented shut. "Thomas, there's no way! What makes you think we're going to find a way in that these people around us haven't already tried?" she hollers out from behind, and he turns back to her as he helps pull her through the crowd.
He shakes his head.
"Came this far, I'm not turning back now," he hollers back, the yells and protests getting louder the further up they get.
They reached the front of the cemented barrier, looking around conspicuously for any sort of hint of a way in. Y/N has to use a good majority of her strength to keep herself upright, as people push and shove into her from the left and right.
"What the hell did we get ourselves into?" Frypan yells out from behind her, Newt coming up on the opposite side.
She peers over Frypan's shoulder, seeing the same man from earlier.
The one with the red mask. He was staring their group down intensely, a few of his guys behind him as they stood not too far away.
She could tell his eyes were staring down at her now, based on the way his head tilted towards her direction.
"What the," she mutters to herself as she squints her eyes at him. She shakes her head before trying to use her hands to tap on Thomas, who was staring at the gates in front of them.
"Thomas, this doesn't feel right," she hollers, Jorge agreeing with her as he turns back to look at the gates.
Newt and Y/N turn to the sides, scanning around as they notice something off. The guys from the SUVs were surrounding the crowd. They were all eyeing and staring them down.
She looks at Newt. "We need to go. Now."
He nods before shoving his way through to grab Thomas by his shoulder. "We need to go, like right now!"
As the group begins to file back from the front gates, Y/n halts as she notices the group of men who were surrounding them has now begun to pull in.
They were all coming from every side, the group being completely stuck and surrounded.
Y/N's hands grabbed onto Frypan's arm tightly, her eyes watching the men cave in around them. Her eyes went to the back of the crowd, where the man in the reed mask was now much closer than before.
Jorge pulled his gun out, ready to fire at anyone ready to fight them. Y/N was doing the same as she grabbed her own from her waistband.
Before anything further could happen, loud noises and alarms had boomed from behind them, large guns at the top of the gates turning towards them as they wired up with fierce power.
The group of protesters had begun to scream in terror, pulling away from the front and sprinting every which way behind them to hide.
Y/N had begun to back away herself as she watched the guns turn towards them, putting her gun back into her waistband as they all began to run away.
Frypan had grabbed her arm, pulling her away as they yelled at their friends that it was time to get out of there.
Loud explosions and screams were heard behind them as they ran as fast as they could, the ground shaking and crumpling up around them as they tried to get away fast.
Smoke rose as each shot hit the ground, Y/N raising her hands over her head as she ran, her calves burning with every step she took.
She turned around the corner of the same tunnel they came through, following behind Frypan and Minho, looking back to make sure the others were still behind her.
"Let's go, come on!" she yelled behind her before turning back to the front. They all were brought to a brief halt when the men from earlier surrounded them, grabbing them each harshly.
Y/N had run into one of the men herself, the man grabbing her harshly by her biceps, manhandling her body as she tried to fight against him. "Get the fuck off me, you motherfucker!" she snaps, kicking him in his groin and pushing him off of her.
She didn't get far before her body was met with a hard chest, making her look up and see the man with the red mask looming over her.
"No!" She bites back, struggling in his hold as he grabs her by her torso, taking one of his hands to grab both of her wrists in his hold.
His touch was a bit less harsh, but still firm enough to pry her off her feet and into the SUV with Brenda and Thomas. Once they were all loaded in, the men around the Vans banged on the rooftop, signaling for them to drive off.
She sat between Brenda and Thomas, looking at them both, before gazing back at Thomas and gripping the gun in her waistband.
He shook his head once in a sly manner, as if telling her not now, making her roll her eyes and pull her hand away from it. She turned back to look at the men in front of her, seeing as the red masked man was staring her down with his head tilted to the side.
She watched his grip tighten and soften on his gun, making her slowly reflex back to holding onto her own.
He must've noticed her reflex, slightly softening his own grip on the trigger and letting his hand sit on his knee instead. She furrowed her eyebrows as she took her hand away from her own trigger, the SUV soon coming to an abrupt halt.
The trunk pops open behind their backs, making them turn and slowly step out to look around them.
Y/N looks around the new spot they're in now, seeing that it looks like an abandoned parking ramp, turned into a hiding place for everyone around them.
The other SUV, where the remaining friends in their group had come speeding in shortly after, came to a screeching stop as it moved back and forth. They could hear the screaming and grunting inside, fighting breaking out as the trunk popped open.
One of the men was thrown out of the back end. Jorge was going to jump onto him with a gun pointed at the man's neck.
"Where is she?" he screams out, Thomas and Y/N going to pull him back from the man.
"Where'd you take her?" he yells again, Y/N and Brenda going to grab him as Thomas is pulled back by one of their men.
Y/N didn't get far as she was ripped away from Jorge and slammed up against the back end of the SUV she was in, a gun pointing straight at her as she glared. "Get that fucking thing out of my face!" she curses, trying her best to pry the man's grip off of her.
"Hey, hey, hey! Back, get back, it's okay!" the man with the red mask yells out at the man holding her back, pulling his guy's grip off of her.
His voice had caught her off guard slightly, the familiarity of it now beginning to drive her slightly crazy as she couldn't pinpoint where she had heard it.
Frypan and Newt immediately came to help break it up, only to have guns pointed up at them, causing Y/N to bring hers out once more and point it at the two men who were pointing back at her.
"Everybody relax! We're all on the same side here!" he says once more, Thomas ripping the harsh grip off of him as he turned to face them.
"What the hell do you mean, the same side? Who the hell are you?" he growls out, glaring at the man in the red mask.
He stares back at them for a few moments before turning away and taking off his mask. He turns to look back at them, breathing heavily from all the action just seconds prior.
Y/N's entire facade faded, her gun lowering as her eyes stared at him.
"Hey greenie," he says to Thomas. Y/N's eyes had to be playing tricks. There was no way he was standing in front of her.
Gally was alive, and it was definitely not another dream of hers.
"Gally?" Thomas mutters weakly. They all stared in shock at the sight before them, Y/N completely frozen in her spot.
Before she knew it, Thomas had charged for Gally, throwing a punch across his cheek and knocking Gally to the ground. Everyone had immediately come to take charge as Newt was the first to hold back Thomas' fist as his other hand gripped Gally's vest harshly.
Gally told his men to back down and that it's fine, knowing that this was coming for him. He hadn't expected anything less.
Y/N was too much in shock to hear what was happening, her hands gripping tightly on her firearm as she watched it unfold. Thomas had to rip himself away from the boy under him, Frypan helping pull him back from Gally.
Gally stood up a few moments later as he adjusted his jaw, rubbing at it with his hand. "Kind of had that coming," he says, eyeing his old friends from the glade. "Anyone else? Fry? Newt?" he asks, his eyes then going to Y/N, who was still up against the SUV, eyes glazed over.
"You know this guy?" Jorge asks, Frypan shaking his head in disbelief.
"He was an old friend," Frypan mutters, his eyes locked on Gally in complete shock. Newt looked back at Y/N for the first time since the reveal, seeing her eyes glossed over. He walked over to her.
"Hey," he says, snapping her out of her daze. Her grip on her gun tightened as he came close to her, still being hyperaware of her surroundings. "You're okay. Give me this," he says, helping her loosen her grip on her gun to let it slide into his hands.
Brenda looks over at her with confusion. "Is she okay?" she asks with concern, Newt turning to look at her, seeing as now her questions had made the rest of their group look back at her. His eyes find Gally's, who is looking only at her, seeing that her eyes are still looking at him too.
"Long story," Newt says shortly, getting them to catch the hint to not ask any other questions.
Y/N hadn't snapped out of her daze until she felt a tug on her wrist from Newt, signaling that they were now going to start walking somewhere.
They had joined Gally as he led them around the facility, explaining how he got there, and how he lived, more importantly.
She kept her grip tight on Newt, as Gally and Thomas talked to this new man, who she gathered was the main leader of this rebellious group around them, Newt taking that time to turn to her.
"You okay?"
"You've asked me that already."
Newt smiles softly at her. "Wasn't so sure you heard me the first time, because you were so shocked at the sight of your boyfriend."
"Ex-boyfriend."
Newt gives her a look. "I doubt it."
She shook her head, staying silent. She didn't know what to say or how to approach Gally. Newt could tell not to push her any further, and instead turned his attention back to the front.
They soon dispersed shortly after that, understanding that Gally could bring only a few of them into the tunnels to get a look at what they'd be dealing with inside those walls.
"Meet back here in about half an hour, and we'll go over everything. Follow my men, they'll get you guys some food and water for now," Gally explains.
They all nodded curtly before deciding to go join the group behind them, Y/N watching Gally head the opposite way.
Newt calls her name, making her look back at him. He sees the expression in her gaze, knowing she wants to go see him. Talk to Gally privately. She just didn't know how.
He nods at her. "Go," he mutters softly. "He would never shut you away. Not even now."
Y/N hesitates, but nods lightly at her friend's words, and turns back towards the direction Gally disappeared. She begins to walk slowly away from Newt, her eyes scanning around to find the familiar buzzcut as she gets further into the unknown place.
Her eyes don't take long to spot him as he turns a corner and into a small spot covered by a curtain. She takes a deep breath before she cautiously makes her way towards it.
Once she's standing right in front of it, she feels her hands becoming shaky, her mind screaming to just turn around.
"I know you're there."
Y/N froze lightly at his voice, causing her to pull the curtain back and step behind it where he was. Gally was turned away from her as he was unfolding a sweater, his shirt from before now missing on his upper half.
Gally turns to face her, his expression softening at the sight of her.
She looked tired, but she looked like she'd been through a lot. He couldn't imagine what she had seen. What she had lost to get to where she was.
Her eyes tore away from his as they caught onto his bare chest, scanning his abdomen. They stopped as soon as they saw the scar on the left side of his chest.
She didn't speak as she finally walked towards Gally, his eyes never leaving her figure as her own eyes frowned at the scar on his chest.
Gally's heart was beating quicker and quicker with every step she took closer to him, wanting to do nothing more than just hold her again. Feel her lips on his own. Feel her touch again.
"Hey Y/N," Gally says softly as she now stands just inches in front of him. He could see her eyes fully now, not missing how they had tears glossing over them as she looked at his scar.
She slowly brought her hand up to touch at it, only to freeze and put it back down. He knew her mind was going a million miles a minute.
Gally instead took the chance to grab her hand softly with his own, not missing the way her breath hitched at his touch, placing it over his scar. Her lip began to quiver lightly as she caressed it with her delicate fingers, Gally clenching and unclenching his jaw as it took everything in him not to touch and kiss her like he used to.
He watched as she traced over the skin, before she finally brought her eyes to look up into his own, looking back and forth into his eyes. She shook her head. He placed his hand over hers that still caressed the scar on his chest, rubbing his thumb over her skin.
"You died," her voice finally said, a lot scratchier than she expected. Gally was just relieved to hear her voice again.
"I'm here," he says lightly, nodding curtly in reassurance. "I'm right here."
"I left you there. I-"
He shook his head. "No," he argues. "You didn't. Don't."
She bites her lip, looking up at him. "I'm so angry at you," she says more firmly, shaking her head at him. He nods. "But I missed you. I missed you so much," she says once more.
"You have no idea," he mutters back, leaning his forehead against her own. "How much I've missed you. I've been wishing on the day I'd get to see you again," he assures her, his eyes never looking away from hers. "It took everything in me not to just come and take you when I first saw you today. It took everything."
Her other hand trails up his abdomen, his chest, to his neck, caressing his jaw. "I realized I never said it back," she whispers out, making him look deeply into her eyes.
He shook his head before taking her face into his hands. "You don't have to," he says softly before planting his lips onto her own for the first time in a long time.
Y/N's hands fell to his bare chest first, then wrapped around his neck as she kissed him back with so much need and love.
They kissed for what felt like forever, but never enough for all the lost time between them. Once they broke apart, Gally placed kisses on her cheeks and her forehead, bringing her into his arms as he let her cry quietly against his chest.
"I'm here now," he assures her. "I'm never leaving you. Never again."
The waves crashed against the shore, the sun beating down on the Safe Haven as the people around the small village chattered and worked on putting things together.
Laughs could be heard all around, nothing but happiness and joy filling the environment created.
Y/N stood in one of the small huts, where a crooked mirror had been leaned up against the bamboo wall. She looked at the dress Brenda and the other girls had made. It had pieces of lace and silk amongst the entire dress.
"You ready?" Brenda had said softly on the other side of the door, knocking as she came in.
She scanned her best friend, smiling warmly at how she looked. "You look gorgeous, Y/N. He's going to fall in love all over again."
Y/N chuckled lightly as she smoothed out the dress.
"I just can't help but remember when he first told me he wanted to marry me," she says, grinning as she thinks back to the glade. Thinking back on how they first met, to where they are now. "I just can't believe this."
Brenda chuckled with her, helping with any finishing touches to her hair. Y/N's smile soon fades as she thinks back to the one person she wished could see her today.
Brenda looks at her through the mirror, seeing how she's now trying to fight tears back, caressing the small vial with a note from her best friend inside. Brenda squeezes her arms. "Newt would be so proud of you," she assures Y/N, who looks up at Brenda. "He's going to be walking you down the aisle in spirit, I just know it."
Y/N smiles graciously at Brenda, soon bringing the vial up to her chest as she holds it there.
She takes a few deep breaths before nodding at Brenda. "I'm ready."
Brenda smiles widely before clapping her hands and opening the door for her. "Let's get you married, love."
Y/N is greeted by Frypan when she comes outside, seeing him look at her in awe. "He's going to fall in love all over again."
Brenda chuckles. "That's what I said."
Y/N laughs as she takes Frypan's arm, linking it with her own as they begin to walk towards the aisle, seeing everyone sitting in rows on each side.
Gally stood at the altar, Thomas and Minho behind him as he talked to them with slightly nervous jitters.
"You ready to get married?" Frypan asks her, and she nods.
"He's been waiting for this day since he met you."
Y/N looks at Frypan with shock on her face. "Really?"
He nods. "He knew it the first day he met you."
Y/N smiled to herself at that. Brenda walked down the aisle long ahead of them, signaling that Y/N was coming next. Everyone had stood up from their seats, turning towards where she stood with Frypan.
Her eyes locked with Gally's as soon as she got to the entrance, seeing him put his head down at the sight of her, wiping tears from his eyes. He then looks back up at her, tears falling freely as he looked at her with so much love.
Y/N could feel her tears falling too, smiling as she looked at him.
When she made it to the end of the aisle, Frypan kissed her cheek and squeezed her arm, handing her off to Gally before going to stand next to Thomas and Minho.
Gally took both of her hands in his, looking down at the love of his life with such adoration and happiness.
"Hi," he mutters softly. She smiles back at him. "Hi."
They both turned to look at Vince, who had a large smile on his own face, and nodded at the pair. He began the ceremony, Y/N and Gally not being able to look away from one another as they said their vows. Tears fell freely as they shared every single emotion and detail with each other.
Gally had wasted no time pulling her in for a passionate kiss when they were announced Husband and Wife, the audience letting out hoots and hollers as they kissed.
She gripped his face in her hands, smiling so widely that Gally couldn't help but laugh against her lips.
NAVIGATION — MASTERLIST // Inbox to be on Taglist!
After your unexpected arrival in the Glade, Gally warms up to you quickly, becoming a bit possessive over you. And spending a night on the watch tower with him, you realized you liked him too.
GENRE ★ Fluff, suggestive content.
PAIRING ★ Fem reader x Gally
WARNINGS ★ Gally is kind of a douche to reader, but like, not intentionally he's just nervous around a girl, you both makeout on the lil watch tower! cuties, lol
Word Count — 2.7k
Adjusting to the glade was much easier than you thought it'd be, with the help of the welcoming group of boys who'd been here longer. Gally had been watching you from afar, his eyes lingering, a frown etched on his face. You hadn't noticed at first, too busy taking in the vast expanse of greenery and the towering maze walls that surrounded you.
After your first genuine conversation with him, where he acted like because you were a girl you couldn't protect yourself, you realized that his tough exterior was just a shell to hide his nerves. He'd never seen a girl before, and you were the first one to be sent up in the elevator. It was all new to him, and he was just trying to make sense of it all. You felt a strange sense of pity for him, mixed with a hint of annoyance. You were tougher than you looked, and you'd proven it back in the real world before you ended up here.
Here you were, tending to the garden when Gally approached, his eyes still filled with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. He didn’t say much at first, but you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your neck as you worked. The air was thick with tension, but you ignored him, focusing on the task at hand.
"Hey, uh, Y/N," Gally finally spoke up, his voice gruff. "Could use an extra hand with my job."
"Huh-?" you turn around, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. "What job?"
"Just- building and stuff," Gally mumbled, averting his eyes as he pointed towards the half-constructed wooden structures nearby. "We're always short on hands."
You glance at the other builders. He had more than enough people to help him, so why was he asking you specifically? Still, you didn't mind the change of pace, so you grabbed your knife and followed him over. The work was hard, the wood unforgiving under the harsh sun, but you didn't complain. You'd done tougher jobs before, and this was a good way to keep your hands busy and your mind off the eerie maze that loomed over your new home.
"Surprised you asked me to help," you said as you swung the hammer, driving a nail into the wood with surprising precision.
"Why is it surprising?"
"You acted like since I'm a girl, I can't do the same stuff you guys do." You shrugged, not looking at him. "But here we are."
Gally's cheeks reddened slightly, a rare sight on his normally stoic face. "Look, I just- I don't know what's going on with you being here, alright? It's not every day we get a… a girl." He paused, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "But if you're going to stay here, you gotta be able to pull your weight."
You nodded, noticing the way his grip tightened around his hammer. He was clearly uncomfortable, but you weren't about to let that stop you from proving yourself. Together, you worked in silence for a while, the rhythmic hammering echoing through the glade. The scent of freshly cut wood filled the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of the blossoming flowers. Sweat beaded on your brow, and the muscles in your arms protested with every swing, but you pushed through, determined to show him what you were made of.
Every now and then, Gally would steal a glance at you, his eyes lingering on your determined form as you worked. His expression was a mix of admiration and something else, something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, really seeing you, not just as the mysterious newcomer, but as a person who could hold her own.
He also just thought you were pretty. But he wasn't about to admit that out loud. Not to you, not to anyone. Gally had always been the tough guy, the one who didn't need anyone, especially not a girl.
"You gonna be at the bonfire?" Gally asked as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the glade. His voice was softer now, the edge of his earlier gruffness worn away by the steady rhythm of work.
"Ummm, probably not? I don't feel exactly…comfortable around a bunch of teenage boys who stare at me like I'm a piece of meat." You replied, trying to keep your voice light despite the knot in your stomach. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene.
"Right…" Gally murmured, his expression thoughtful. "Well, maybe I'll… I'll come by your hammock later then." He was trying to sound casual, but you could hear the nerves in his voice. "To make sure you're okay."
"I'll probably just be on that watch tower thing." you smile a bit. "Alby gave up trying to stop me from going up there."
Gally's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're not scared of heights?"
"Nope," you replied with a smirk. "I like the view."
"Huh." Gally nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on the tower. "Well, I guess that's your place then."
"You can hangout with me up there." you offer casually, turning your attention back to the wooden beam you've been hammering away at. "If you want to make sure I'm okay, that is."
Gally's eyes widened slightly at the suggestion, and he coughed, trying to cover his surprise. "Yeah, sure. I'll, uh, I'll come by."
And that night, you were leaning against the railing of the tower, carving little doodles into the wood as you'd glance at the bonfire from afar. The laughter and shouts of the Gladers carried through the air, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude you felt up here. Gally had kept his word, finding his way up to the tower after the sun had set. The moon cast a silver glow across the maze, and you could see his silhouette approach, the wooden ladder creaking under his weight.
"Hi," you smile softly as Gally reaches the top, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight. He doesn't say anything at first, just plops down beside you, his legs hanging off the edge of the tower. You can feel the tension in his body as he sits there, unsure of what to do with his hands.
"So, why do you like it up here?" he asks finally, his voice low and gruff.
You look up at the stars, twinkling like a sea of diamonds in the inky sky. "It's peaceful. And I can think without everyone else's voices in my head."
Gally nods slowly, his eyes following your gaze to the heavens. He's never seen the sky from this angle before, not really. It's like he's seeing it for the first time too, like everything is new with you here.
"You know," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "I used to hate the nights. The quiet, the not knowing… it was all just too much. But now, with you here, it's like I got something to focus on that isn't all doom and gloom."
"You say that as if I'm your #1 priority." You tease, trying to lighten the mood. But there's an undeniable warmth that spreads through you at his words.
"Maybe you are," Gally mumbles, his gaze still on the stars. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. It's a simple gesture, but it feels like a confession of something more than friendship.
You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. The air between you is charged with something new, something that makes your heart race. You feel his eyes on you, and when you turn to meet his gaze, you realize that he's closer than you thought. His eyes are no longer on the stars; they're on you.
"What are you saying, Gally?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. His hand are fiddling in his lap, and you can see the struggle in his eyes, as if he's fighting an internal battle.
"I'm saying…" He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I'm saying that maybe…maybe you make this place feel less like a prison and more like… home."
His words hang in the air, and for a moment, you're frozen. You've never thought of the glade as anything but a terrifying, confusing labyrinth with a bunch of boys you didn't know that you need to escape. But with Gally here, maybe it could be more than that.
"Gally…" You whisper his name, the sound barely carrying over the distant sounds of the boys below yelling and cheering.
His eyes flicker with something unreadable, and before you can say anything else, he leans in, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek. His thumb brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. And then, without another word, his lips are on yours, soft and tentative, as if he's afraid you might vanish if he presses too hard. You're surprised, but you don't pull away. Instead, you lean into the kiss, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of his warmth and the gentle way his hand cradles your face.
The world around you seems to melt away as you kiss, the bonfire's glow fading to the background. Gally's hand moves from your cheek to the back of your neck, his grip firm but gentle, as if he's afraid you'll pull away. But you're not going anywhere, not now that you know he feels the same way you do. The kiss deepens, your heart thudding in your chest like a drum, echoing the rhythm of your racing thoughts.
You didn't even know what to do with your hands. You shakily placed one on his thigh and the other on his cheek, feeling the rough skin under your fingertips. The kiss was unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It was like every emotion you've ever felt in your life was condensed into this one moment, a heady mix of fear, excitement, and something else entirely. You'd never kissed anyone before, let alone someone like Gally, the brooding and mysterious boy who'd become a surprisingly comforting presence in this alien world.
You felt his hand tighten around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you realized that you liked this feeling of being wanted, of being needed. His other hand found yours, weaving your fingers together, and it felt like a promise, a silent pact between the two of you to face whatever came next together.
As the kiss grew more urgent, you lost track of time, the world outside the tower fading away. All that existed was the taste of him, the feel of his breath mingling with yours, the warmth of his body beside yours. But as quickly as it had begun, Gally pulled away, leaving you gasping for air, your eyes searching his for some sort of explanation.
"I've never-" you gulp, trying to find the right words to express the tornado of emotions whirling through you.
"Me neither." Gally murmured, his eyes searching yours in the moonlight, a hint of vulnerability peeking through the cracks in his tough exterior. He looked as stunned by the kiss as you felt, his chest heaving with every breath.
"You wanna…" Gally stammers, his eyes darting to the bonfire and back to you, "You wanna go to the bonfire?" He seems hopeful, like he's trying to change the subject, to ease the sudden intimacy that's thickening the air between you both.
All you did was smile and pull him into another kiss, your hands threading through the little hair he had. It was like you were trying to memorize the way his lips felt against yours. Gally's surprise quickly gave way to passion, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you closer. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, matching the erratic beat of your own. The bonfire and the noise of the other gladers might as well have been on another planet.
Accidentally, you knocked him over and had him laying on his back, you hovering over him. You pulled away with a giggle, but it was cut short when Gally's eyes searched yours, and his hand found the back of your neck again, pulling you back down to him. You kissed him harder than before, feeling his body respond, his hands sliding down to your waist, holding you closer.
The heat between you was palpable, the tension of the moment coiling tightly in your stomach. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt, the rapid beat of his heart. Gally's hands moved up your back, his fingertips tracing the line of your spine, sending shivers through your body. It was as if you were two magnets, unable to resist each other's pull.
As the kiss grew more intense, you became aware of the sound of your own breathing, the soft gasps escaping your lips. The tower was your sanctuary, the only place you felt truly safe in the Glade, and now it had become something more, a symbol of the connection forming between you and Gally.
He pulled away, keeping his hand in your hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. "I didn't mean to-"
"I liked it." You murmur, smiling softly as you straddle him. "Don't be sorry, Gally."
The tension in his body eases slightly, and he lets out a shaky laugh. "Okay," he says, his thumb tracing patterns on your cheek. "But we should probably go down before people start wondering where we are."
"Or…" You lean in closer, whispering against his ear. "We could just stay here." Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch the play of emotions on Gally's face. Surprise, confusion, and then something that looked suspiciously like desire.
"Okay just-" he gulps, now grabbing your hips. "C-Could you get up really quick?"
You blink, looking down at him with a mix of confusion and amusement. "Why?"
"I-It's nothing! Just- just move a little," Gally stammers, his cheeks flushing in the moonlight. You feel his hands tighten around your waist as he tries to push you up. Confused but willing to play along, you sit up, allowing him to adjust his position beneath you.
"Why'd you-" you glance down, only to see Gally's eyes wide and slightly horrified as he stammers. You follow his gaze and realize his discomfort isn't from the conversation but rather from the very obvious tent in his shorts.
Your cheeks heat up as you jump to your feet, trying to play it cool. "Oh, uh, sorry!" You laugh awkwardly, brushing off your pants. Gally sits up quickly, his face a deeper shade of red as he tugs at the fabric of his shorts.
"It's not a big deal," you say, trying to diffuse the situation. But the moment has changed. The intimacy of the kiss is now tinged with an awkwardness that you both can't ignore. Gally clears his throat and looks away, focusing on the distant bonfire.
"Gally-"
"It's fine," he clears his throat, keeping his hand on his shorts. "Let's go to the bonfire."
"You wanna go with that?" you giggle a little, pointing at the tent. "It's so obvious. And everyone's gonna think we did something since I'd be behind you!"
Gally's face goes from red to a deeper shade of crimson, and he mumbles something incoherent under his breath. He looks away, his eyes scanning the glade as if searching for an escape route. You can't help but laugh at his embarrassment, the tension between you dissipating into the night air.
"Well, I don't know how to-" he paused mid sentence, mumbling something under his breath.
"What?" You giggle, leaning in closer to him. "I don't know how to make it go away either, but it's okay." You playfully poke his cheek, making him squint slightly. "It's not like it's the end of the world."
Gally lets out a relieved sigh, the tension draining from his body as he smiles back at you. "I guess."
"Come on," you say, taking his hand and leading him back to the ladder. "Let's go enjoy the bonfire."
PAIRING: gally x fem!reader
WARNINGS: injured reader, no use of y/n
GENRE: angst, fluff
SONG INSPIRATION: honest by the neighbourhood
WORD COUNT: 1.7k
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the sound of your ragged breathing mixed with the pounding of your feet against the concrete echoed in your ears. minho was just ahead, his movements sharp as the two of you darted through the maze, weaving between the looming stone walls.
the sky above was beginning to darken, the first sign that the walls would soon begin to shift, and with it, the grievers would come.
and they did.
you heard it first. a mechanical whir, a deep, guttural churning of metal and flesh, followed by the distinct clicking of sharpened legs skittering against the stone. it sent a chill through you, instinct roaring louder than thought.
you shoved minho forward just as the griever lunged from the shadows, its grotesque, writhing body twisting through the narrow passage with terrifying speed.
"go!" you shouted, voice raw with urgency.
minho barely had time to react, stumbling forward before catching himself. he turned back, eyes wide with frustration and fear, but you were already moving, already twisting out of the way.
the griever's jagged limb sliced through the air where you had just been, missing you by mere inches. but you weren't fast enough.
the force of it’s swing still caught your side, a brutal impact that sent you flying backward. your body slammed against a wall with a thud. an explosion of pain ripped through your torso.
the breath was stolen from your lungs, your vision momentarily darkening at the edges as you crumpled to the ground in a heap.
everything felt like it had slowed, your senses dulled by the sharp sting in your head where it had struck the wall. warmth trickled down your face, sticky and thick, the metallic tang of blood filling your mouth as you gasped for air.
the pain in your side throbbed in sync with your heartbeat, and when you tried to push yourself up, a sharp spike of agony shot through your ankle.
twisted? maybe worse.
"shuck!" minho's voice was a distant roar, his footsteps slamming against the ground as he skidded to a stop beside you. he didn’t hesitate. his hands grasping your arm, yanking you up with a force that nearly sent another wave of nausea rolling through you.
"get up," he snapped, voice tight with urgency. "we gotta move, now!"
"i–" your words barely leaving your lips before he was throwing your arm over his shoulder, all but hauling you forward.
your legs screamed in protest, your ankle a burning mess, but there was no time to complain. the griever let out a horrible, guttural screech, its body dragging itself toward you with terrifying speed. its bladed legs glinted under the fading light, rising to strike again.
minho didn't slow. "come on, come on, come on–"
each step was agony, but the sight of the glade’s walls ahead sent a fresh surge of adrenaline through your veins. safety was right there. you just had to make it.
minho was half dragging you now, your injured leg barely keeping up, but he didn’t let go. he didn’t let you fall. he kept moving, kept running, even as the shriek of the griever grew louder behind you, too close, too fast.
and then–.
the moment the two of you stumbled past the threshold, the stone doors groaned, their deep rumbling echoing through the maze. dust and debris rained down as the massive slabs of rock slammed shut with a final, deafening boom.
silence.
the maze was sealed. the horrors locked away behind stone and shadow, for now.
your knees buckled, body trembling with exhaustion, but minho kept you upright, his grip tight as he gasped for breath beside you. his chest heaved, sweat dripping down his face as he turned to look at you. his expression was tense, jaw clenched, but his eyes. his eyes burned with something fierce. relief. frustration.
"you okay?" he panted, though he didn’t need to ask.
you swallowed hard, still dazed, still struggling to process the fact that you’d made it. that you were alive.
you opened your mouth to answer, but your vision blurred at the edges, black spots dancing in your peripheral vision. the blood still dripped down your temple, the weight of exhaustion was unbearable.
"help! someone get jeff, now!"
the darkness swallowed you whole, you barely registered the weightlessness of your body, the sounds around you becoming distant echoes. but there was something keeping you upright, something solid, something warm.
hands.
strong, steady hands gripping your shoulder and your leg, the person shook you. not rough, but firm enough to fight against the pull of unconsciousness.
“don’t you dare.”
the voice cut through the haze, it filled with desperation. the grip on you tightened, grounding you, keeping you from slipping any further.
“stay with me, shuck face.”
your eyelids fluttered, the effort to keep them open unbearable, but that voice, it had a hold on you.
then everything went dark.
when you finally stirred, your body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and pain. the first thing you registered was the dull ache in your head, the lingering sting of your injuries. the second was the warmth of somebody beside you.
your eyes cracked open, slow and sluggish, blinking against the dim light. the familiar wooden beams of the med-jack hut swam into view, followed by the scratchy feeling of blankets pulled over you.
and then, him.
gally.
he was right there, sitting at your bedside, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together as if he was holding himself back. but the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was clenched, told you everything.
at the sound of your breath hitching, his head snapped up. the moment his eyes met yours, something flickered across his face. relief, frustration, something deeper.
“you’re real stubborn, ya know that?” he muttered, voice hoarse.
you tried to swallow, your throat dry. “nice to see you too.”
but gally wasn’t amused. he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “what the hell were you thinking?” his voice was rough, almost fearful.
your body still ached, but you managed a small, tired smile. “didn’t… have much of a choice.”
he scoffed. “yeah? ‘cause from where i was standing, it looked like you ran straight into danger like a damn slinthead.”
you sighed, shifting slightly. “we had to get back.”
“that’s the problem,” he snapped, leaning forward. “you didn’t think. you could’ve died.”
his voice cracked at the end, just slightly, but enough for you to notice. you blinked at him, your exhaustion making everything feel distant, yet gally, he was the only thing that felt real.
then, like he couldn’t stop himself, he reached forward, his rough, calloused hands gripping your arm, fingers pressing into your skin. his touch was soft.
“back there,” he muttered, voice low, like he hated admitting it. “when you started slipping, when you almost–” he stopped, inhaling sharply through his nose.
you remembered. the way his hands held onto you, the desperation in his voice.
a faint smile tugged at your lips, weak but genuine. slowly, you lifted a trembling hand, brushing your fingertips against his cheek. he tensed, eyes flickering between yours, but he didn’t pull away.
“you were worried,” you murmured.
gally let out a dry, humourless chuckle. “yeah, no klunk.” his voice softened, though the frustration still lingered. “minho came running in with you half dead, bleeding all over the damn place. of course, i was worried.”
your fingers traced lightly along his cheekbone before dropping back onto the blanket, your body too weak to do much more. but the warmth of his skin lingered on your fingertips.
“i’m okay,” you whispered.
he shook his head, exhaling deeply. “yeah.” his hand that was still wrapped around your arm, sliding down to intertwine your fingers. “you better be.”
the exhaustion was still heavy, your body sinking into the thin makeshift mattress. but you weren’t fully out. the warmth of gally’s hand remained, a steady reassurance even as your eyelids fluttered closed. he didn’t move right away.
you could feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting, like he didn’t fully trust that you were okay just yet.
then, finally, his grip loosened, but only slightly. his thumb brushed over your wrist, lingering there for a second longer before he let go.
“you need to rest,” he muttered, voice gruff but softer than before. “don’t pull any more stupid stunts.”
you hummed something incoherent in response, too tired to argue, he sighed knowing you weren’t really listening.
there was a shift in the room, a murmur of voices just outside the hut, and then the faint creak of the door opening. you heard the shuffle of footsteps. clint’s voice, quiet but firm.
“how bad was it?” gally’s voice was lower now, quieter, but still edged with worry.
“she’ll be fine,” clint replied. “but she’s banged up bad. twisted ankle, bruised ribs, mild concussion. jeff and i patched her up the best we could, but she needs to take it easy.”
gally let out a breath, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into every movement. “make sure she does,” he muttered. “don’t let her push herself. she’s stubborn as shuck.”
clint chuckled. “yeah, no kidding.”
“i mean it.” there was an edge to gally’s voice now, something protective, something fierce. “be careful with her, alright?”
there was a pause, then clint’s voice, softer this time. “you really care about her, huh?”
silence.
you fought to keep your breathing steady, to keep yourself still, even as your heart thumped a little harder in your chest.
“…just make sure she’s okay,” gally says finally.
then, without another word, the door creaked again, and the heavy sound of his boots returned to your bedside.
you felt the mattress dip as he sat down beside you. there was a brief hesitation, then warmth. his warmth, as he shifted closer.
you felt his arm slide beneath you carefully, his other draping across your waist as he eased you against him, mindful of your injuries. his grip was firm, but gentle.
for a long moment, he was still. then he muttered, “i hope you know you scared me half to death.”
you could have answered. you could have told him you knew, that you were sorry, that you were still here. but instead, you let yourself relax against him, let his steady breathing lull you into something close to peace.
as his fingers absently traced soft patterns against your back, as his hold on you tightened just slightly. the mix of the feeling of his arms around you, and the distant hum of the glade outside slowly pulled you under. your eyelids fluttered, too heavy to keep open,
