#first glader!reader

[cyberg4l]

┏━ • 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐓 • ━┓

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.

𝐜𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠𝟒𝐥 © 2024, all rights reserved.

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(The Maze Runner) You Get A Minor Injury

What Thomas, Newt, Minho, and Gally are like when reader gets a minor injury, pre-relationship and also during.

Warnings: Injuries, mentions of blood, scratches, scrapes, fluff.

Author’s Note:  In my fics/imagines/headcanons, Gladers are aged up, and also movie version.

Thomas:

"Ouch!"

Thomas immediately looks up from his task at the sound of your pained wince. The two of you had spent the afternoon clearing a section to make way for a new garden. In the final stretch of the project, the garden tool in your hand slipped and scraped your other arm.

You lift your arm to check out the damage, and Thomas is making his way over toward you before you could insist it was nothing. He isn't in a panic, but the concern's evident in his expression as he crouches down beside you, carefully taking your arm in his hands to inspect it. He concludes that it's nothing serious, and his gaze travels back up to meet yours, suggesting that you pay the medjacks a visit. He lets it go if you insist you're alright and don't need to get checked out. He keeps an eye on you, though, to make sure it doesn't get worse.

If you're in an established relationship, Thomas feels free to be a bit more open about his concern. If you didn't wish to stop work and go to the medjack hut with him, then at the very least, he's getting the supplies and bandaging you up himself. He'll pull you into a hug when it's taken care of, letting you know he just wants you to be alright even when it comes to the little things.

Newt:

You're standing a little ways away from your crew, taking a break from your hard work after a spectacular fall, when Newt approaches you.

He must have been making his rounds as second-in-command, checking the progress of each group of Gladers.

Newt seems puzzled at first as to why you've paused your work- Not suspicious, as he knows you do your part. When he notices the tiny red scrape on your chin, his curiosity turns to concern as he leans in to get a closer look. You glance down sheepishly at your palms, both a tad scraped up as well.

"You just missed it," you laugh it off, though internally you're extremely glad he did indeed miss it. One misstep had all but wrecked you, and the last thing you'd want was this handsome Glader in particular to witness it.

"Are you alright?" He lifts a hand to gently tilt your chin up to inspect the wound. He definitely pulls you away from the job to escort you to the medjack hut and won't hear any "but"s or protests of any kind on your part.

In a relationship, Newt feels more inclined to take the task of tending to your injury himself. He'd rather be the one to enter your space, dab at the little scrape on your chin with a clean cloth, and bandage your hands. You can expect a tender kiss on your forehead when he's all done.

Minho:

You wince, kneeling down to take a look at the wound. You can hear Minho's steps slow to a stop ahead of you before he swings back around to see what was the matter.

An unfortunate misstep during your routine run through the maze left you with a scratch on your knee. It's red, and there is just a bit of blood beading in certain spots where the scratch went a little deeper.

"Oh shuck," he murmurs, crouching. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it was my own fault," you replied.

"You're getting that checked out when we get back." It wasn't a question.

And you do. He's glancing over his shoulder at you the whole way back, and then he walks you to the medjack hut to ask for Clint or Jeff.

In the context of a relationship, Minho is more transparent with his concern. He's a bit more in your space, in a gentle way, inspecting the injury more closely and asking you more than once if you're alright. He's good at remaining calm. He's just focused on getting you the care you need. You can expect him to be a bit fussy after you're all bandaged up, insisting you take a break from running for a while.

Gally:

You had a slip-up with one of your tools, and you're trying to hide the evidence. You were not in the mood to draw the attention of the Keeper of the Builders with a minor mistake that you thought might make you look silly to him.

To your embarrassment, he happens to be walking by when you wince, shaking your hand to fan the slice on your finger. He stops immediately and approaches, and you quickly protest that it's nothing.

"Let me see."

You sigh and hold out your hand, gauging his reaction as he leans forward to take a look.

His lips pressed firmly together, brows furrowed in concern.

"Take five, Greenie," he tells you, nodding in the direction of the medjack hut. "Get yourself bandaged up."

If you do voice any other protests, the raise of his brow tell you they're futile.

In a relationship, Gally is less reserved about his worry. He knows things happen on the job. He can't exactly blame you. Sure, he'll scold any one of his guys if they were being a shank and got hurt doing something obviously dangerous, but for the average cut and scrape, he is actually pretty understanding. He'll still tell you to be careful while he inspects the injury more closely, but it's not from a place of frustration at you. It's his protective nature, and he just wishes he could protect you from even the little things.

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

FUCK YOU, don't leave me

Part One: Paper Thin (Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five)

Gally x Fem!Reader

You were the first female greenie to arrive in The Glade and your continued feud with Gally is legendary among your fellow Gladers. It’s about to dazzle them even further tonight because it’s bonfire night. Which means you’re both excessively drunk, hopping mad, standing right next to an enormous open flame and contemplating one question; is arson really that bad?

Genre: pure plot, the set up to enemies to lovers

Word Count: 2.7K  Read Time: 9.5 mins

Warnings & Info: strong language, brief mention of needles and flesh wounds, underage drinking, Your POV, Movie!Gally, the only Glader slang I use is “shank” because the rest sounds dumb to me (sorrryyyy), minimal Y/N use, you’re not the only girl I added several unimportant OC’s, Thomas is there but the plot of TMR doesn’t move forward

Author’s Note: I was originally going to write this whole fic in one part but then I got too excited and it got really long, so I broke it up. The other parts will be coming very shortly, let me know if you want to be tagged when I post them! This is the first fic I’ve ever posted so all constructive criticism is welcome! The Maze Runner community on Tumblr is amazing & I just wanted to throw my hat into that very talented ring; thx for reading! fun fact: Gally’s name appears 62 times in this fic :)

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I can’t fucking stand Gally. And everyone knows that. Everyone also knows that he can’t fucking stand me. If it weren’t for saint Alby’s most sacred rule, (“Never harm another Glader”), I would’ve split his lip with my knuckles a long time ago. 

It started with The Box, obviously. That clanging, rusted, menacing machinery that brings life-sustaining supplies and headache-inducing complications. Like me. 38 months in a row The Box brought up a flushed-faced, wide-eyed, scared-shitless teenage boy. Every month, like clockwork. Until lucky month number 39 when it sent my sorry ass up. The first girl. Since then, The Box alternates between male & female greenies each month. No one has any idea why those who control The Box suddenly decided to make The Glade co-ed. But Gally’s working theory is that it’s to destroy everything they built before me.

He has a well-deserved reputation for having the loudest mouth in The Glade and he wasted no time using it against me, starting on my very first day. The first memory I have of him is watching his tanned face contort with confusion and anger upon opening The Box’s gates and finding me at the bottom.

“Why’d they send a girl?” he’d barked, piercing through me with his gaze even though his question was directed at the several dozen boys standing around him, also peering down at me.

“We’ll just welcome her like any other greenie. Maybe they thought it was getting too rowdy in here with only boys,” Alby had responded calmly, parting the sea of boy’s shoulders as he strode up to Gally’s side. He stared down at me with a much kinder expression on his face.

“I’d like to get rowdy with her,” a boy interjected loudly, sending a cascade of wolf-whistles and whoops through the group around him. I was still lying on the cold metal ground of The Box, dazed and barely aware of what was being said. But at the sound of the whistling I’d instinctively covered my chest with my arms, blocking any sight of the skin exposed above my top. Gally sharply lifted his head to meet the boy’s eyes.

“Stop thinking with your dick, shank. She,” he pointed harshly at me, “is only going to cause trouble,” He turned to Alby and lowered his volume but not his scathing tone. “If you want to welcome her like any other greenie, be my guest. But you know that a change like this could ruin everything we’ve built. Don’t expect any sympathy from me when it does,” He strode off in a huff, grabbing the set of tools he’d abandoned in the grass and going back to his construction site on the other side of The Glade.

That was my first impression of him. At the time, I didn’t know my name, where I was or what was happening but I knew that Gally hated me. And since I didn’t know anything else, I decided that the first thing I would be sure of in this new place was that I hated him too.

It didn’t take long for our fellow Gladers to take notice of our feud and prepare accordingly. It became part of the tour for every new greenie that came up.

“That’s Gally,” Newt would say, pointing out his broad figure as he ordered his crew around with a pointed finger, “And that’s Y/N,” he’d continue, pivoting 180 degrees to the front door of the med hut, where I was helping a bloodied Slicer get inside.

“If you ever see them standing closer to each other than they are right now, run or grab the nearest weapon,” he’d finish with a devilish grin. The Builders and the Med-jacks had an open agreement to keep us away from each other at all times. Whenever a Builder got injured and Gally brought them to the med hut, I would be forcefully told to take my break in my hut. And whenever the med hut needed construction work, Gally would be told to do work elsewhere in The Glade until his crew finished.

Alby had declared bonfire nights to be the DMZ of The Glade pretty early on in our feud. Gally and I have a paper-thin agreement to not start shit, but tonight? Tonight that paper thin agreement goes up in smoke.

I’m sitting on a horrendously rotten log surrounded by the few friends I have that put up with my constant outbursts towards an otherwise pretty popular member of The Glade. Elsie, (the 2nd girl to arrive in The Glade & by default my closest friend), passes me the dusty glass bottle full of Gally’s elixir and I take a hearty swig, my vision already blurry from the first round of passing. The only thing I can respect about Gally is that his concoction gets you fucked up, fast. With all the horrors we all have to deal with at such a young age, (running a functioning town, trying to find a way out of the Maze, hiding from Grievers, trying not to get stung & coming to terms with the fact that we might never know who we are or where we came from), it’s good to have a reliable way to get drunk.

Chuck is babbling a retelling of Minho’s latest run in my ear excitedly when he suddenly comes into focus; Gally. He’s marching up to me, fists balled and face flushed. It took me a lot longer than usual to realize he was coming due to my inebriation.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?” he snaps, jolting me out of the warm feeling his drink was bringing me. “Hank just told me he has a crush on you. Are you just going to seduce my crew? Or do you need to have the entire Glade under your control too?”  

He’s slurring his words slightly and swaying where he stands, telling me he’s probably just as fucked up as I am. Gally rarely drinks from his own supply, so this must be why he has the sudden gall to confront me despite our agreement with Alby. I get to my feet unsteadily, anger replacing my calm demeanor, but before I can speak, Newt shimmies in between us and puts his hands up, metaphorically waving a white flag. 

“Gally, mate, you’ve had a few. You don’t want to start something here. Just sleep it off and we’ll figure this out in the morning,” he says reassuringly, putting a timid right hand on Gally’s left shoulder. Newt’s keeping his voice purposefully low as he’s aware half The Glade has started staring in response to the confrontation.

“I’m not talking to you Newt, I’m talking to her,” he snarls, shaking his shoulder out of Newt’s grip, his blue eyes never leaving mine.

“I don’t know why you’d think I’d want to seduce a Builder. You all have the IQ of fruit flies,” I snapped back, my voice coming out far hoarser than I intended it too. At the sound of this insult, the rest of my group of friends get to their feet and several of Gally’s jog over from the other side of the bonfire. Elsie’s hand instinctively grabs my left wrist as Chuck holds onto my right forearm. Gally’s arms are also being held onto by Thomas & Ben, who are exchanging worried glances. Our friends mobilized so quickly that Gally & I barely had time to react. But despite Newt’s pleading & the four pairs of fingernails now digging into our arms, Gally continues.

“Please Y/N, like a guy’s intelligence has ever stopped you from opening your legs,” he chortles, before going in for his finisher, “Just stay the fuck away from my Builders. It’s hard enough to keep them working without some slut parading around The Glade like she’s God’s gift to teenage boys,” he spits, his eyebrows furrowing and his muscles flexing, as he rigorously pulls against Thomas & Ben.

His comment rings in my ears for what feels like an eternity. That choice of insult is vicious, even for Gally. Alby has all but banned that word in The Glade, chastising & throwing in the Pit any poor shank that dares to use it against any of the girls here. 

My cheeks are hot and I feel Elsie & Chuck tighten their grip around my arms. Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system or the stress of the day finally coming down on me or the wolf whistles I got this morning for taking my jacket off echoing in my ears or the smug look on Gally’s face or the memory of crying myself to sleep last week or the nods of agreement to his comment by several onlookers, but all of it is too much and something in me snaps. Fuck the agreement with Alby, fuck controlling my anger and fuck dealing with any of this sober; this means war. 

Before I’m even fully aware of my own plan, I’m ripping my arms from my friend's grip. Elsie & Chuck stumble to the ground as they call desperately after me. The crowd formed around our altercation parts for me easily as I rack my brain for the easiest way to cause Gally pain. The Glade is spinning haphazardly as I stumble to Frypan’s table with tonight’s feast set upon it. I search furiously for the rusted copper pot that holds the rest of Gally’s elixir. 

Thomas and Ben, who are now joined by Newt, Minho, Chuck, Alby and Jeff, are trying to forcefully pull Gally away from the fire, towards The Pit. He is fighting this punishment with the spirit of an angry Griever, his voice echoing continued insults towards me that I can’t quite understand at this distance.  Elsie & another Glade girl, Lireale, are sprinting after me, clearing the crowd and scanning the darkened clearing for any sign of me. Gally breaks from his friend's grip and has only a second to take in his surroundings before I’m back next to the bonfire, right in front of him.

I stare into his eyes with as much venom as I can muster, my left hand flat against the bottom of the pot, my right hand tipping it sideways. Months of swallowed anger and dismissed indignation swell in my chest. I take one last look in his eyes before chucking his famous elixir into the flames with as much might as my drunken body can muster.

The bonfire immediately swells to the height of our treehouse, quickly absorbing its new fuel. Gally’s drink has about as much alcohol in it as a bottle of medical antiseptic and I take a moment to drink in the cleverness of the destruction I’ve caused. Gally’s expression has melted from anger to fear. 

I win

I watch the orange hues reflected in his wide eyes before feeling the electric shock of stray flames connecting to my body. As I fall to the ground in pain, I feel two sets of calloused hands picking me up and carrying me quickly in the direction of the med hut. My vision is tunneled as I watch two other figures pick up Gally and carry him in the same direction. 

We’re going to have to be in the same room for the first time since our friends learned better. And after the stunt I just pulled, he’s going to murder me. I focus on preparing my mind for whatever counterattack he has planned, instead of the searing pain now blossoming in my hands and on my chest.

I come to my senses a little more in the bright med hut as I’m gingerly placed on a cot by Ben and Newt, wincing at the contact of charred skin and coarse fabric. Gally’s voice brings my ears back to reality with a ring. Though he can’t attack me physically through the pain of 2nd degree burns being sterilized, he still finds enough energy to take verbal shots at me.

“Fuck you, Y/N! I’ll be out of work for a week because of this,” he grunts emphatically, voice still slurring. I look up at him through the line of Runners & Builders standing between our two cots, trying to prevent the counterattack he’s in too much pain to plan for now. He’s balling his fists and wincing as Clint uses a damp cloth to wipe gently at the largest of his burns; a large red stripe on his right bicep. Thomas and Hank are standing at his shoulders next to the cot, helping pass supplies to Clint as he works.

“You don’t do anything but bark orders, your crew will be fine without you, shank,” I spit back. “Shank” was often used jokingly and with affection between other Gladers but when Gally and I use it, it sounds more like a slur. 

I’m still smiling cartoonishly from the sight of him getting his comeuppance. I can deal with my own pain if it means Gally has to be in pain too. I’m lying on my back as Jeff places an aloe-soaked bandage on the burn I have on my cheek. Elsie kneels next to me, holding my left hand, whispering mixed words of sympathy and scolding that I don’t hear. I’m attempting to stare at Gally, bobbing my head from left to right, trying to move into a position where her head’s not blocking my view.

The med hut is swarming with people. Alby is standing by the door, arms crossed, eyes jumping between Gally and I, getting the story of what happened told to him by Newt and Chuck. The former is in damage-control mode, sticking up for me with an earnest tone and the latter is beaming with pride, unable to contain the excitement in his voice as he recounts how high the flames got. The several large Runners & Builders that formed a human chain in between Gally’s cot and mine are starting to relax and disband, as they finally take in the severity of our injuries. Lireale is passing supplies to Jeff on my left, who’s whispering instructions to her. There are several other lookers-on who snuck in to see the action before Alby started stopping people at the door and telling them to go to bed, lest they lose their right to lunch tomorrow.

“Oh yeah and what do you do, greenie? Besides seducing every poor shank that gets bloodied up enough to have to come here,” he yells back, voice getting hoarse and gaze softening as Clint bandages the site on his arm that he injected the anesthetic into. He sighs with relief at the sight of it kicking in so quickly.

I shouldn’t be surprised this sentiment is what started this mess. Gally is known to rant to anyone who will listen that girls are a distraction in The Glade, and any shank dumb enough to fall for that distraction deserves to be thrown to the Grievers. I’m not the only girl and haven’t been for a while; there’s four more of us he could direct his sexist anger towards. But he never looks at them the way he looks at me; as if my existence itself causes him offence.

“You wish Gally. Is that why you always get your wounds patched up in your hut?” I croak back, my voice starting to falter as Jeff pulls an identical needle containing anesthetic out of my arm. “Afraid you’ll get too riled up if I’m the one stitching you up?” I mumble, my voice barely audible as my eyelids flutter close. 

I feel my shirt being pulled off gingerly by Elsie, exposing my bra. Jeff gets to work on a particularly nasty burn going from my collarbone to the top of my right breast. The last thing I see before being lured into a drug-addled sleep is Gally’s blue eyes, tracing my now-exposed figure. Maybe it’s the heat of the burns, or the stress of the pain, but I swear I can see his cheeks flush and his eyes widen before he quickly looks towards the ceiling and succumbs to the sedatives in his system as well. Like I said; Gally doesn’t look at me the way he looks at any other girl. But I’ve never seen that look before.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Pinch Me

Gally x reader summary: Gally isn't dead after all. In fact, he's very much alive. And so is that weird feeling in your stomach whenever you look at him.

a/n: god the lack of maze runner fics on my blog is unbelievable!!! needed to change that desperately

maze runner masterlist | main masterlist

You eye Gally carefully from the side as you wait. There's only one telescope and it's not like you're gonna line up behind Thomas to use it - no, you take the time to sit down on the ground and narrow your eyes at the newly un-dead glader next to you instead.

He's taller than when you'd last seen him. You'd noticed how much he'd grown the very first second you'd lain eyes on him. But he's got broader, too. He looks older, much older. More like an adult now. And that hoodie suits him. A little too well, actually.

"You're staring", Gally says, pulling you from your silent assessment of him. He doesn't even turn to look back at you. Some voice in the back of your head pipes up, tells you that you should probably feel embarrassed that he's caught you - but you don't, somehow. Instead, you hum in agreement. Yeah, you had been staring. You are staring.

"Are you trying to check if I'm real or what?", he asks with a chuckle, one that's surely supposed to cover up the fact that he sounds quite a bit nervous underneath. It doesn't really help. You hear the shake in his voice anyway.

It has you grinning just a little.

"Honestly?", you smile, trailing your eyes along him once more. "I kind of am."

He looks back at you then, finally, turns his head to yours and meets your eyes.

"You wanna pinch me to make sure?", he asks, seemingly serious with his eyebrows raised, but with a twinkle in his eyes that you've rarely seen in them. Your grin widens even further.

Without another word, you lean forward and pinch his arm. Just like that.

He doesn't even flinch.

He's warm under your fingertips, warm despite that thick, woolen hoodie he's wearing that looks so comfortable you honestly want to steal it from him. You pull back with a satisfied grin.

"Very much real", you approve, and then the corners of his lips tug up and you almost black out. Your heart really skips a beat. Just because he's smiling back at you. Oh, lord.

You settle a little further back and let out a breath.

"I'm glad you're not dead, Gally", you mutter, trying to keep your voice down so Newt and Thomas won't necessarily hear you. It's not that you want to keep it a secret, you just want to keep it private. It doesn't concern them. This is something between you and Gally. Something personal. Something that tugs at you and pulls you to him.

You don't know what it is exactly.

Maybe just relief, relief that at least one other glader is alive after you've already lost so many others. Maybe it's happiness, happiness to see an old friend. Or an old acquiantance? An old.... God, you don't even know what you and Gally were back then. Two people who threw glances at each other, who smiled at each other, who... Did barely anything else for the three months you'd spent there before Thomas had come up the box. Two people, three months and absolutely nothing that happened.

Ever.

But now he's back. And that something that never happened? That's back now, too.

...

You're nowhere near safe, really. You're anything but safe. You're the absolute, complete opposite of safe. You're running through a city on fire, your legs burning, burning, burning with the strain of carrying yourself- Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You can see the aircraft already. It's right there, you just need to run a little faster. If you had any oxygen left in your lungs, you'd shout for Minho and Gally to check if they're still right behind you - but you don't have the oxygen and you don't have the time either, so you push on, on and on until you're close, closer and closer and then, finally, inside the aircraft. You collapse onto the floor and gulp down what feels like a litre of air.

"Serum", you wheeze. "Serum. Newt."

You hear a body collapsing close to you, then another. You force your eyes open and turn your head to one side - Gally, his chest heaving and his eyes squeezed shut as he tries to calm down.

You're safe.

He's safe.

And you're both still alive.

Your ears ring so loudly that you barely hear how Jorge starts the aircraft. You don't care, either.

You're safe. And alive.

For the moment.

And that's all that matters.

So you steady a palm against the floor, heave yourself up and reach over him. Your hand comes down next to his head just as he opens his eyes.

Fuck.

Your heart is racing. You don't know if it's him or the adrenaline. You're not really bothered to think about it either, to be honest. He's too close to think. So close. Closer than ever before.

And you truly are drunk on adrenaline. Which is definitely the only goddamn reason for why you lean down, just like that, and press your lips to his.

You catch him off guard. You catch yourself off guard, too.

He tastes like sweat and blood, bitter and metallic and absolutely perfect considering you're still very much in a life-threatening situation, blood rushing in your ears and minds reeling with the heaviness of everything that's happening.

You shouldn't be kissing him. You shouldn't be planted half on top of him, with your hands shaking and your body so heavy you almost collapse. And then his fingers close around your waist and you do collapse, right on top of him.

He's broad and tall and most definitely more comfortable than the floor. Fuck, his hands on you feel so good. They're so wide and big and he's such a good kisser, his lips against yours so perfect.

God, how have you never done this before? He's always been right there, you've always felt that tug. And now that you've given into it, you never ever want to stop again.

He's heavenly. And he's holding you so firmly, so easily on top of him. He's so broad and tall and comfortable and firm and perfect and-

"Shit!"

Jorge's voice startles you so hard you flinch away from Gally, your head jerking up, your eyes searching the inside of the aircraft -

Everyone's staring at you.

Absolutely everyone.

Oh, god.

Oh, lord.

Oh, fucking hell.

Heat rushes to your cheeks. With a start, you push off of Gally and turn onto your back again. Your eyes squeeze shut as your breath evens out. Slowly, but steadily. Ever so steadily.

You can't think.

You're exhausted. Simply and just exhausted. This entire day has been too goddamn exhausting. And it's not even over yet. It's nowhere near over.

But as Gally reaches out for you, as he slips his hand into yours and interlocks your fingers... Yeah, you'll be fine. You'll be just fine.

[thedraculacat]

Keeping Him in Check ೃ⁀⤵

gally x reader

masterlist

synopsis: gally's always been a handful, but you've made it your job to keep in him check- whether he likes it or not. after breaking up his fight with thomas, a conversation makes it clear to everyone (except maybe you) just how much he actually likes having you around.

w/c: 1k

There’s blood on Gally’s knuckles.

Not his, of course.

Thomas is still on the ground, breathing heavy, rubbing his jaw, and looking like he might actually go for another round if someone doesn’t stop him. But you’re already moving, shoving your way between them before he can make that mistake.

“Alright, that’s enough,” you snap, one hand pressing firmly against Gally’s chest. He’s solid, barely moving under your touch, his muscles still tense like he’s ready to swing again. “You’ve made your point.”

Gally doesn’t look at you. His eyes are locked on Thomas, fists twitching at his sides like he’s itching for an excuse to keep going.

You look to Newt for a bit of help, but he just gives you a sideways glance. “You gonna keep your boyfriend from killing the Greenie, or should we start digging his grave?” His tone is light, but there’s an edge to it still.

You exhale sharply. “You know he’s not my-”

But Gally finally takes a step back, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off the last of his frustration. “We’re done here.”

Thomas mutters something under his breath, but smartly doesn’t get up. The Gladers start dispersing, some shaking their heads while others murmur amongst themselves.

Newt huffs, nudging your arm. “Better keep an eye on that one, Y/N,” he says, nodding toward Gally walking off. “Before he actually kills someone.”

You sigh, glancing over at Gally, who still looks partially wound up. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it.”

As you ditch the others, the sound of the crackling fire fades into the background. You follow Gally wherever he’s trying to escape to.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just walks beside you with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his face set in that familiar, unreadable look. He’s still tense and wound tight, but at least he’s no longer throwing punches.

You bump your shoulder against his. “So. What was that really about?”

“Told you,” he mutters. “Thomas needs to learn his place.”

You scoff. “Right. And nearly breaking his nose is the best way to teach him?”

Gally exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You don’t get it.”

“Then make me get it.”

That gets him to look at you. Not just a glance- an actual look, like he’s debating whether or not to let you in on whatever’s eating him alive from the inside out. You hold his gaze, waiting.

Finally, he exhales. “He’s messing everything up. The rules, the order- we have a system, and he just… acts like none of it matters. Don’t you see that?”

There it is- the real reason.

You sigh, nudging him lightly again. “Of course I do, but beating him up isn’t going to get him on your side, Gal.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. So you keep telling me.”

“And yet, you never listen.”

That earns you a side-eye, but there’s something a little lighter in his expression now, the edge of his frustration dulling.

You walk in a comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the Glade fading behind you as you reach the edge of the Deadheads. The air is cooler here, the trees swaying gently in the night breeze.

Then, Gally mutters. “Why do you always do this?”

You hum as you look up at him. “Do what?”

“Follow me. Keep me out of trouble.” His voice is quieter now, like he’s actually curious, like he really doesn’t get it. “You should just let me be.”

You scoff. “Yeah, ‘cause that’s worked out great for you so far.”

He gives you a look, but you just grin. “Besides… I don’t do it for Newt despite how much he asks.”

He slows his steps. His brows pull together, like he’s trying to work out what you mean.

You take a breath, feeling your heart pick up speed. “I do it for you, you idiot.”

Something flickers across his face. Surprise, probably. Or maybe, something deeper.

“I keep you in check because I care,” you say, softer now. “I stop you because I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you.

You roll your eyes, trying to play off the weight of your own words, shoving at his arms lightly. “You really are clueless sometimes, huh?”

Gally lets out a short, breathy chuckle. “You think so?”

The space between you shrinks, barely noticeable, like the gravity between you just pulled a bit stronger. You don’t overthink it- you just act, leaning up on your toes and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before you can lose your nerve.

It’s fast. Barely even a second. But when you step back, his entire body goes still.

You laugh, trying to brush it off. “That’s for not breaking Thomas’s nose.”

He stares at you for a moment, then reaches up, touching the spot where your lips just were. Then, finally, he says, “You’re lucky I like you.”

You hum, shaking your head. “Oh, I’m the lucky one?”

Gally just smirks, and yeah- there’s no coming back from that.

Newt watches as the two of you come back to camp, noticing your usual banter is still going, but something’s… different.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters.

Frypan, who has been watching as well, grins. “Told you it’d happen eventually.”

Newt groans. “Bloody hell. Fine. You win.”

Frypan holds out a hand expectantly. “That’ll be one day of your freedom, Newt. God, I’ve always wanted a personal assistant.”

Newt grumbles as he crosses his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, mate.”

Before he can worry about his loss for too long, you walk up, grinning. “You know, Newt, I really think I should start getting paid for Gally-wrangling.”

Newt snorts. “Oh, sure. I’ll pay you in extra chores, how’s that?”

You roll your eyes and nod to him before turning to walk off.

Newt and Gally watch you go. Newt’s eyes leave you first as he turns to Gally. “Bloody hell. You really like her, huh?”

Gally exhales through his nose, not answering, but there’s a small twitch at the corner of his lips as he watches you disappear around the other side of the bonfire.

Frypan just laughs. “Took you long enough to realize.”

masterlist

[em-ontv]

Heyy, I'm obsessed with your writing, so I was wondering of you could write some more about Newt from the maze runner? Anything really, I love your style of writing and i'd love to hear more about a charcter I love! Thank you, <3

Hey there, thank you for liking my writing <3! And yes, I will write more newt because he is an absolute sweetheart. Hope you like it ◡̈ !

Fix me up.

Pairing: Newt x medjack!reader

Summary: Newt got hurt when the new greenie accidentally dropped a garden-hoe that scratched him and he only wanted you to patch him up.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, Newt being a bit dramatic, a few Glader language?, use of y/n, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, apologies beforehand

Word count: 552

———————————————————————————

It was another normal day in the Glade. The familiar hum of activity filled the air as the boys went about their routine tasks. As you got up for the morning, Frypan waved you over from the kitchen area, a heap of fresh vegetables in front of him.

“Y/n, mind giving me a hand with these?” Fry gave a smile, gesturing at the pile while you walked over.

Although you were a Medjack, you often found yourself helping around in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables and stirring up pots by Frypan’s side – he really enjoyed your company, since you knew how to handle food with decency instead of almost burning the whole kitchen down like the greenie he tried to train two months ago.

You picked up a knife and started chopping, the rhythmic sound of the blade hitting against the wooden board created a comforting background noise.

But suddenly, a commotion broke out near the garden. Raised voices and loud chatters made you look up, and without a second thought, you dropped the knife and rushed towards the noise.

As you neared the garden, you yanked past the small crowd of boys that surrounded the person in the middle – Newt. You were greeted by the sight of him, clutching his arm as blood slowly bled through the gaps of his fingers.

“If you’re wondering, the greenie dropped a hoe and scratched him,” Winston gave you a nudge, his eyebrows raised slightly.

“That doesn’t look like a scratch to me, where the shuck is Clint and Jeff?” you shot Winston a glare after seeing the hint of amusement in his eyes.

“They’re–” Winston started but got cut off when Newt caught sight of you and immediately let out a dramatic groan.

“Ughhh… it hurts!” Newt groaned again, his eyes flickering to you every couple of seconds, making sure that you paid attention to his… uh, ‘pain’.

Newt started wincing and grimacing, exaggerating the pain of his arm. Clint and Jeff were there long before you, and they attempted to approach him once again, to try and help him with his injury. However, Newt kept swatting their hands away, shooting them glares and complaining loudly about the pain.

“Stay back, you’ll only make it worse!” Newt declared, throwing in a loud sigh for good measure. It rendered the two Medjacks speechless.

“Oh, the agony! The absolute agony!” he clutched tighter on his arm.

To be fair, the cut was bleeding pretty badly, but you didn’t expect a whole outburst followed by a meltdown from him. What did you expect? Perhaps more maturity from the second-in-command. And if the greenie wasn’t already klunking his pants, he sure is now.

“Alright, move… move.” you pinched the bridge of your nose and finally decided to step in.

Newt sighed in relief, visibly relaxing and letting his guard down. “Finally, somebody who knows what they’re doing.”

Clint and Jeff exchanged an amused look, some of the boys standing around rolled their eyes and chuckled before scattering about, returning to their tasks now that the theatrics were over.

“Come on, let’s get you to the Med Hut,” you shook your head while Newt started repeating a bunch of ‘ow, ow, ow, ow’ over and over again, seeking your sympathy. Hiding a little victorious smirk from your sight.

[wrtzia]

That’s no worries at all 🫶🫶I look forward to reading it!! I’m sure whatever you come up with will be great!!

What we are - Request

Warning ; mention of sex, first time, Reader is the only girl, frenemies, suggestive content

Notes : I went for a suggestive content and no smut because I was more comfortable writing it this way, hope you will still like it. Let me know your thoughts, if you liked it I might do a part 2 where they talk about it. It took me a WHILE to find out how to correctly write it, and I'm still not sure if it's okay, but I actually like it. Turned out really long too.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ The Glade wasn’t an easy place to live, but you had made it work. Being the only girl here had its own set of challenges, especially given how lonely you were and how you always acted tough. Some of the boys went out of their way to be overprotective, which could tend to annoy you, while others didn’t know how to talk to you like a normal person, didn't know how to act near a girl. Gally was neither of them and yet both at the same time. 

Gally had always been different. He wasn’t cruel, people who didn’t know him well enough like Thomas could say he was with wrong assumptions. He was sharp-edged. His words could sting, his looks could burn, but beneath it all, you knew there was something else. Something unspoken.

“Hey, you gonna do something useful today, or just stand there?” His voice cut through the air as you helped stack crates near the Blood House. His tone was rough, but you could see the way his eyes lingered on you. He was observing you and despite his tough look, for you his eyes always looked more soft, showing just a bit more of love.

The way his eyes would look at you always caused a feeling of confusion in your heart. It was so evident he didn’t hate you, that something else was behind it all, but at the same time you thought it would be easier if he hated you. Perhaps if he did, you wouldn’t feel your heart flutter and the butterflies in your belly every time he would soften around you. 

You rolled your eyes, placing the last crate down with a little more force than necessary. “I don’t know, Gally. Maybe I should leave all the hard work to you since you clearly love bossing people around.” and despite both of your attitudes, you didn’t hate each other. Behind all the ‘mean’ words, the roll of eyes, the annoying comments, love was hidden. Your relationship was really clear for you, and for the boy too. The gladers couldn’t understand and that was something you cherished ; them not knowing what your heart was feeling everytime you laid eyes on him.

He scoffed but didn’t fire back with a remark. Instead, he grabbed a cloth from his pocket and tossed it to you, letting his soft spot for you showing. “You got dirt on your face.”

Every time his attitude towards you would fall, it was as if you won the argument. So every time, a smug smirk would meet your face. You used his cloth to clean your face before walking toward your hut, as the night was setting. You didn’t need to turn back to know he was following you.

You entered your hut and Gally was quick to grab your wrist in a firm but gently hold, turning you around. Your faces were close, you could feel his warm breath against your cheek, his eyes were staring at your lips before he spoke your name in a gentle voice.

Was today the day he would finally let his guard down, the day he would finally tell you his feelings, those you knew about but always pretended you didn’t, not wanting to take the first step ? He frowned, his voice coming out rasping. “How the hell are you doing this to me ?”

Your eyes met his, your mouth about to answer before his lips stopped them, kissing you deeply. Your whole body froze, confusion filling you. Part of you knew his feelings for you, and obviously you loved him too. Your brain had trouble taking in the fact his dry lips were on yours, one hand holding you wrist while the other was making its way under your shirt. “..You make me feel crazy. I want to keep you buried in my arms but I also want to insult you every second..”

For the first time in your life, or atleast for what you remembered, you felt your heart beat like crazy, you could feel how red your cheeks were. You swore your legs could shatter at any moment, considering how shaky they were. As if Gally could sense it, he easily picked you up, his hands meeting your plush thighs. You could feel the warmth radiating from his hands on your whole legs, his thumb tracing small patterns causing you to shiver from the touch. “..I love you so goddamn much”

His eyes looked at you, his expression unreadable. You could see the love but you could also see the incertitude, as if what he said to you was hard to admit, as if he was unsure if he was doing the right thing or if you would get afraid and run away. But you didn’t.

You hadn’t expected his lips to attack your neck, and even less his hands to start taking your top off. Panic quickly set inside of you, suddenly you weren’t sure being there was a good idea. But then you remembered who was there, with you. It wasn’t anyone - it was this big asshole, the one who would treat you like crap only to be the most protective guy towards you. The one who would cradle you to his chest every time another glader would lose their life, but who spent his whole days telling you how much he hated you.

Your back was against the hammock, the pretty boy hovering above you. You were vulnerable, more than ever, but you wanted it. So with slight incertitude, you allowed yourself to speak the following words. ''Gally...I’ve never done that before'' 

His eyes met yours, not so surprised about what you just confessed. He himself didn't have much experience since there weren't many girls here, except for you. That didn't mean he didn't know what to do, and how to do it. In the world they were in, danger at the door, you actually didn't expect him to know anything. 

The danger around.

The danger around you seemed to fade. With Gally above you, your mind pushed aside all the fears—the Grievers, the threats outside. They no longer mattered. It was as if Gally was protecting you, putting a wall around the two of you.

You felt safe with him.

His words brought you back to the intimate moment the two of you were having,reassuring your racing mind, ''It's okay, don't know much myself.'' and his hands worked to take his shirt off, about to take yours as well before he stopped, putting a light kiss on your neck. ''We don't have to do anything if you're not ready, pretty thing.''

And you shook your head, because you were ready. You were just scared, scared because you didn’t know anything about it, nobody never taught you. But you trusted him, you knew he would be careful with you. You knew he cared. He was showing it everyday, and he was showing it today by taking his time with you. Your voice came out softly, almost in a whisper but he heard it, “..I’m ready as long as it’s with you.”

His calloused hands undressed you, taking his time to worship you, making sure every inch of your soft skin was kissed, caressed. You didn’t know how such small things could make your heart be so crazy, how that could cause your legs to press together before he would spread them. When he took his pants off, eyes ending on his boxers, you could have swore your eyes rolled in the back of your head. His chest was warmth against yours, his heart pounding beneath his chest, syncing with yours as if you were the same. You made one.

He didn’t take care of himself, didn’t allow you to put your attention anywhere else than on your pleasure. The only thing that mattered right now was you. Not the griever, not the newbie, you. The way he was, soft, careful, slow, it was different from what you knew. Different in a good way, you loved the way he was currently acting, as if you were the only in his eyes. As if nothing else existed. For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. The Glade, the Grievers, the chaos—it was all gone. It was just the two of you.

You didn’t know how you ended there, your first time and virginity being taken by your worst enemies but also your best friend. What you knew was how soft his touches and kisses felt, how well the two of you fit together. He took his time with you, showed you love. For the first time, you didn’t get any mean remarks, only words pure with love and admiration.

You never thought you would get the opportunity to lose your virginity, even less to Gally. But now that it was happening, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞

Main masterlist - part 2

[claraswritings]

Reunion

Pairing: Gally x reader

Warning: An unnamed Glader being a perv. Gally is sweet to his girl but grumpy to everyone else because you know he would be. Mentions of them sharing a bed but nothing explicit (For the purposes of the fic, everyone is aged up to be adult).

Notes: flashbacks are in italics.

****

You felt the ground spin as he pulled off his mask.

It couldn’t be, he was dead. He’d died in your arms.

You’d refused to leave him and had been shot with a tranquilliser to get you to go. You’d almost not bothered escaping into the Sorch with the others until you’d been dragged by Thomas, you’d been completely catatonic mourning your lost love for months.

And now he was in front of you.

He was slightly taller, his arms more muscular and his hair cut shorter but he was still unmistakably your Gally.

“Hi baby.” His lips tweaked slightly. That little smile that he mostly did just for you.

Before Thomas or Newt or any of the others could respond or say anything, you’d thrown your bag on the ground and threw yourself into Gally’s arms and he’d caught you.

“Hi” you mumbled into his chest “I missed you baby.”

****

When you’d first come up in the box, Gally had instantly been weird around you so you’d just kept out of his way, talking to him only when you had to until he warmed up…well warmed up as much as Gally could. He’d still stare at you or get weird if any of the guys were friendly to you, or follow you around to ‘make sure’ you got places but you’d put it down to him trying to uphold the rule the Glade Leader Alby had put in place. The rule that none of the boys were allowed to ‘call dibs’ on you.

Or so you thought

It had all came to a head on one day when you’d been cooking with Frypan. Handing out the lunches to the rest of the Gladers. It was Gally’s favourites and you’d handed him his plate with a little smile which he’d returned

“Your girlfriend cooked your favourite?” Ben commented with a laugh

“Shut it” was all he got in return. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Maybe I’ll have her then.” one of the new greenies who’d opted to join the Builders commented. Gally didn’t like him. Joe or Josh or Jack. He’d forgotten

“She’s off limits” Gally said back “Unless you want a night in the Pit,”

“Who’s going to put me there?” The greenie with the name he’d forgotten commented “stupid rule anyway that no one can have her, who’ll stop me?”

“Me..” Gally gritted his teeth focusing on his food, then realising what he said continued, trying to maintain his cool “Or one of the other Keepers.” Gally stabbed his food trying to imagine it was this guy “Or Alby. He’ll make sure you’re banished, shank”

“Only if he finds out. Maybe she’ll be up for it, maybe I’ll even let you have seconds…”

That was the last thing he said before heard before chairs began flying and Minho, Ben and Frypan were pulling Gally and the greenie off each other.

“I’ll throw you to the Grievers myself” Gally was yelling over Minho at the other guy. “Minho, man, let me go”

“Gally! You need to calm down!” Minho told him, trying to placate him “Go…”

Gally looked like he wanted to argue but then caught your eye and set his jaw, turning back to the other guy “Stay away from her”. He stated and gave him a shoulder barge as he pushed by him.

“You wanna go talk to him.” Alby turned to you.

“Me? Why me?”

“You’re the only one that can talk to Gally when he’s like this.” He said and you shrugged. He had a point. Gally was stubborn and could be hot headed but he always seemed to listen to you. You’d put it down to you being the peace-maker and more relaxed compared to some of the boys.

You followed him into the deadheads demanding to know what that was all about only for him to grab you by the waist, tilt your head up and kiss you and then immediately pull back and apologise.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He wanted you. Shit, was he as creepy as the greenie? Would you talk Alby or someone into throwing him in the pit?

“M’Sorry… I-…”

Before he could go on, you’d pulled him down by his shirt and you kissed him back, everything just fell into place. You’d been a couple ever since.

You’d be there to try talk him down when he got protective of you, you’d sit on his lap at meals, you’d cheer for him when he wanted an ego boost with his circle game and eventually Gally somehow convinced Alby you needed to be in his hut with him.

For protection. Was the excuse Gally gave. He didn’t want you out in the hammocks where any shank could get to you. Really he just wanted to be alone with you, to hold you and hug you and kiss you and touch you constantly.

He felt relaxed around you, like you were the only one he wasn’t constantly defensive around.

When Thomas had showed up followed by Theresa, you had spent half your time trying to keep Gally away from him. He was absolutely convinced everything had gone to shit because of Thomas and whilst you agreed that things had escalated in the Glade since his arrival, you knew Gally’s method of fight now, think later was not helpful.

When Thomas had got a group together to escape you’d held back, pleading, begging Gally to go with you before you kissed him, apologised and ran after the others.

You didn’t expect him to follow. You didn’t expect him to be stung and out of his mind and try to kill Thomas, and catch Chuck in the process and you didn’t expect Minho to throw the spear. It all happened so fast.

The scream that escaped you when you saw him collapse to the ground, spear in his chest, ripped through you.

Within a second, you were at his side. Whispering for him to stay with you, begging, whispering how much you loved him.

Only a minute later, you heard a commotion and shook off the arms grabbing you, until it all went black.

****

“I missed you so much” you cried “I thought you were dead, how are you still here, how did you survive…I…” a choked gasp escaped you.

A part of you wondered if you’d lost your mind in the past few months and if now you were hallucinating and clung harder for fear he’d slip away

“Shhhh, it’s a long story but I’ll explain I promise you” he soothed and he wrapped his strong arms around you, lifting you a little. “I missed you too, sweetheart. Every day.”

Behind you could feel the others staring but in that moment everything melted into the background and it was just you and Gally. Gally was always sweet to you, however usually in the Glade he’d be staring down the others for watching. Right now it looked like he didn’t care. You were the only person in the world to him.

“I tried to stay with you” you mumbled.

“I know sweetheart.” Gally whispered “I remember.”

He remembered. In the haze of memories, he remembered you’d stayed with him. You let out a low exhale of relief.

“I was so scared, I thought you’d died thinking I’d abandoned you.” You choked out “because I’d never… I’d…never…”

Gally’s strong arms held you tighter to him as he remembered what he could from that day.

“The last thing I remember was you being shot… and collapsing and…I wanted to get to you but I couldn’t” Gally said quietly. “I thought you were dead too”

“Tranquiliser.” You said breathlessly. “I wouldn’t leave you so they shot me”

That…that made sense but still made him furious. His arms tightened around you as his hand carded into your hair. “I promise we’ll get them back for what they did to us.”

**** later that evening ****

“I like this” you touched his much shorter, buzzed hair as you lay in his arms that evening, pressing yourself closer to his.

Gally loved this. He loved having you back in his bed, even if it was a room in quarters rather than a hut in the Glade.

“Yeah?” He asked “It was getting long by the time I got out of the medical bay, got bored of it so shaved it”

You smiled “I like it. It suits you”

You could almost swear he smiled as he looked at you “then I’ll keep it like this”

“Wish I’d seen it long though” your lips tweaked a little.

Gally rolled his eyes “Absolutely not sweetheart” and laughed when you playfully pouted at him an he leant in and kissed the pout “Don’t you pout at me”

He linked your hands together. “I’m never ever letting you go again, baby”

“I’m going wherever you go” you said determined nothing would separate you again. “Whatever crazy idea you’re thinking of…” you traced his cheek with your thumb. “I’m in.”

[mssorceressupreme]

Saviour | Minho x Reader

Summary: the gladers pull a prank on you, stealing your clothes while you’re showering, leaving you stranded there with nothing at all. Minho accidentally walks in on you, and you ask him for a favour.

Warnings: mild bullying/teasing

——

The hot water felt like a rare luxury, washing away the grime and exhaustion from your time in the glade. Being the newest member, or greenie, as they called you, meant that every day was a new challenge, full of unfamiliar faces and daunting tasks.

The shower was the only place where you could find a moment of peace, especially since you were the only girl.

You had just finished lathering up and rinsing off when you heard faint giggles and whispers outside. You dismissed it, assuming it was just some of the boys messing around.

But as you turned off the water and reached for your clothes from the shared clothing rack outside, panic set in. The rack was empty. Your clothes were gone.

All that was left was a tiny towel which you brought with you inside the shower. And it was barely enough to cover you.

Given that it was only boys in the glade before you arrived, there wasn’t a need for shower hooks or racks inside the shower, as most of them wandered around freely without a single care, grabbing their clothes from the shared rack outside the shower station and proceeding with their day as usual.

Your heart ached as you clutched the towel around yourself. There was no way you could step out like this. You were stuck, anxious and scared, not knowing what to do.

Minutes ticked by, and your mind was a whirl of panic and embarrassment. You were so caught up in fear that you didn’t hear the door open.

Minho opened the door, a white towel wrapped around his waist, revealing his well-carved and defined abs. You knew that being a runner meant that he was fit, but wow, he was truly fit.

“Ah-I’m in here—” you shouted, voice trembling. Moving to the corner of the shower to distance yourself from Minho.

Minho froze, his eyes wide with shock and embarrassment as he saw you without any apparel except for the tiny towel, “Oh, uh, sorry! I didn’t think anyone was in here.” He turned around, closing the door.

“Wait—please, don’t go!” You pleaded, desperately.

Though this was your first time properly interacting with Minho, you felt that he was someone you could trust.

You saw Minho come to a halt outside from the opening beneath the shower door, his feet facing towards the door now, “You need something?” His voice curious, a hint of concern.

“Someone stole my clothes, and I can’t leave like this—please, I feel so humiliated…” you felt a lump in your throat, eyes welling up from this situation, honestly, it was a combination of emotions making you feel on the verge of tears. The feeling of being in this new unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people was petrifying.

Realisation dawned on Minho, and he frowned. On his way back from the maze, he recalled a group of gladers running around and sniggering, carrying clothes that seemed a bit too small for them. “Stay right here. I’ll handle this.”

He left the shower station and you sank to the floor. Clutching the tiny towel around you.

Moments later, you heard Minho’s voice, angry and authoritative, echoing through the compound.

“Hey! Get back here, you shanks!”

Through the small hole in the shower, you saw Minho, dripping wet, chasing after a group of gladers. His towel was barely holding on, his muscular build flexing as his ran. Despite your predicament, you couldn’t help but admire him.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I’ll have Alby put you guys in the pit! And if you’re still not careful, banished.” He was stern, no glimmer of kindness.

Though he wasn’t first or second in command, the gladers held Minho highly. His position as keeper of the runners was much respected, especially since it would be him, of all people, finding the way out for you. It was no easy job, even you knew he was someone important when Newt explained who Minho was before you even saw him.

A few minutes later, Minho knocked on the door, “Still here greenie?”

You slowly opened the door, reaching your hand out to grab your clothes from him. His face was flushed, a mix of anger and exertion, “Here,” he said, as he handed them to you. “I’m sorry about those shuckheads. It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, “I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “I’ll wait outside to make sure no one bothers you.”

You quickly dressed, feeling a mix of gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

When you stepped out, Minho was leaning against the wall, his eyes scanning the area protectively.

“Thank you Minho,” you said again, feeling the need to express my gratitude. The awkwardness from earlier became a foreign feeling, for some reason, it was comforting to be in his presence despite him seeing you cloth-less just now.

“It’s no problem,” he replied gently, “We look out for each other here. I’ll make sure no one messes with you again.”

You shared a moment of silence. A sweet but short gaze into those warm brown eyes of his, before he cleared his throat.

“Well uh, I better clean up before the builders hog the stalls, but catch you at dinner?” Minho smiled.

“Oh yeah right—yeah, see you at dinner!” You jogged off.

——

Dinner time arrived in a matter of moments. It was a chaotic affair with everyone crowding into the dining hall, laughing and talking loudly.

You scanned the room and spotted Minho, who waved over to with him and the other runners. Relief warned over you as you made your way through the crowd to his side.

For the first time you had someone to sit with, it felt nice to have a friend.

We barely settled into our seats when a group of boys approached our table, the same ones who had pulled the prank earlier.

“Need your boyfriend to get your clothes for you again?” One of them sneered. “Want him to serve you dinner too?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks as they laughed, their teasing hitting a sore spot. Being the only girl in the glade was hard enough without their torment.

Minho’s expression darkened, and he stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor which darted most of the attention towards him, “You better shut up before I make you,” he gritted his teeth.

He had no idea where this sudden protective instinct was coming from, especially since you barely know each other, but he felt the overwhelming urge to protect you.

The laughter stopped abruptly as the boys realised that Minho was serious. Tension crackled in the air and for a moment, it seemed like a fight was inevitable.

They stood face to face, Minho’s fist tightening as he clenched his jaw.

Just then, Alby and Newt appeared, quickly moving to pull Minho back. “Calm down, Minho.” Alby said firmly, placing a hand on his chest.

“Yeah they’re not worth it,” you added, stepping forward to calm him. You placed a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch.

Minho looked down at you, his anger slowly dissipating. He let out a frustrated sigh and allowed himself to be guided back to his seat. The boys, seeing they were outnumbered, backed off, muttering under their breaths.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly once you were seated again.

“Yeah, I just hate seeing them treat you like that. If they weren’t so lucky, they’d be banished by now.” Minho replied, his eyes smouldering with residual anger. “I just don’t want anyone hurting you.”

You held your breath, before placing your hand on his, both of you jolting slightly at the contact of your hands, it was an all too familiar touch. You smiled softly at him.

His protectiveness touched you deeply. Despite the touch exterior, there was a kindness in him that made you feel safe.

“Can I stay with you for the rest of the evening?” You asked hesitantly, “I just…I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Minho nodded, a small but assuring smile, “Of course.”

The rest of the evening, you grabbed dinner and found a quiet spot away from the others. You talked, shared stories, and slowly, a bond began to form between you.

Minho’s presence was a comfort, and the more time you spent with him, the more you realised how much you liked him. Could this friendship turn into something more? You wondered.

As the night wore on, and the glade fell silent, Minho walked you back to your hammock. “Thank you for today,” you looked up at him with an appreciative smile, you truly did not know what you would have done without him.

“Anytime greenie,” he replied, a warm smile playing on his lips, “I’ll always be here for you.”

[sweetlovenotes]

worried

pairing: gally x fem!reader (before dating)

summary: gally picks up on you being anxious during a glade meeting and tries to offer some form of comfort (both pov's are included)

themes: boderline enemies to lovers because gally has an attitude problem, fluff, slightly hurt/comfort but more just comfort, physical touch

warnings: mentions of anxiety/worry (unsurprisingly)

word count: approx. 1,073

Your POV: Every month, the box would come up with a new greenie, and every 7 days, it would come arrive with general supplies. This was a fact in the Glade and it had been for the past two years. But at the end up the week when the box had came up, it was lacking the usual supplies. While the supplies weren't too necessary, it still raised the question of what this could mean for the Glade.

Chaos and worry was struck across the gladers, leading to a gathering quickly being called, which is why all the keepers were sat on creaky wooden chairs in a small semi-circle. Gally was sat to your left, your chairs almost touching, while Winston sat on your other side. The leaders and the keepers were surrounding you, discussing how to approach the news.

As the conversation continued, you were growing more anxious, your fingers fiddling in your lap while your leg bounced up and down. The heel of your shoe was tapping at the ground, the noise only audible to those next to you.

"Could you quit that," Gally hissed from beside you, his expression annoyed. "It's distracting."

"Whatever, sorry." You mumbled, stilling your leg as you looked over to concentrate on Alby.

Your concentration quickly withered as you picked at your fingernails, anxiety gnawing at you. It didn't take long for your leg to begin bouncing again, while you remained unaware of the movement, focussing on your nails. The tapping sounds of your heel were blocked from your hearing as your leg mindlessly bounced up and down.

It was only when a large, firm hand was placed on your mid-thigh that you realised you had begun moving your leg again. You looked up at Gally who was looking at you, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you questioningly.

"It's only supplies, Y/n." He spoke, his voice low to not disrupt the conversation. "We'll get more soon."

You shrugged, brushing off his words.

"Seriously," he said, his voice firm as he gently squeezed your thigh. "We'll be fine."

"Yeah but what if the box doesn't come back up again?" You responded anxiously.

"Well for now we have enough supplies, we can figure it out when we don't have any." He responded, surprisingly providing you were a sense of comfort.

You looked down at your hands, still slightly worried despite his best effort to reassure you. He moved his hand from your thigh to your hands, pulling them away to stop your fiddling. One of his calloused hands remained on your left hand as his fingers gently brushed over your knuckles rhythmically.

"We'll figure it out," He murmured, his tone softening. "I promise."

He turned his attention back to Newt who was now talking. But his hand didn't move, clasping yours and remaining on your lap. While half listening to the meeting you played with his fingers. At first only gently brushing your pinky over his- a test to see if he would complain. Much to your delight (and surprise), he didn't complain, prompting you to squeeze his hand with gratitude.

Gally's POV: I sat on the creaky chair, listening to Alby go on about how we had to be careful with how much klunk we used. This meeting was getting more and more pointless as Alby continued to drone on, what more was there to say? My patience was shrinking as the shanks we called keepers asked the dumbest questions possible.

Tap.

I looked over to where the sound had come from, finding it to have resulted from Y/n's foot bouncing against the floor. Expecting her to stop, I turned back to Zart who had begun to ask a question. But, Y/n didn't stop.

"So," tap "what" tap, tap "happens" tap "if" tap, tap "we" tap, tap, tap-

"Could you quit that?" I asked Y/n, exasperated and giving up on the idea of her stopping. "It's distracting."

"Whatever, sorry." She mumbled, finally stilling her leg and looking away from me and over to Alby.

I too, tried to focus on Alby, but Y/n fiddling beside was painfully obvious and very distracting. It took about ten seconds for her leg to start bouncing again.

I stared at her leg, willing it to stop with my mind as she picked at their nails, seemingly oblivious. I rolled my eyes at her lack of concentration, turning back to Alby, again.

When it became apparent she wouldn't be stopping soon, I furrowed my eyebrows. Caught up with a mix of frustration and concern, I moved my hand to her leg, holding it still to stop the bothering bouncing. She looked up at me in surprise.

"It's only supplies, Y/n. We'll get more soon." I said, my voice low.

She shrugged as though she didn't actually believe me, brushing me off as she turned to look down at her lap.

"Seriously," I said, catching their attention. "We'll be fine."

"Yeah but what if the box doesn't come back up again?" She asked, her eyes filled with worry.

My heart tugged, catching me off guard. I realised that I wanted her to believe me, I wanted her to know we'd be okay, that she'd be okay.

"Well for now we have enough supplies, we can figure it out when we don't have any." I replied, trying to reassure her.

The problem was, I didn't seem to be good at comforting people. It wasn't something I tend to do in the Glade. I didn't even know how to do it. She looked at her hands sceptically, clearly doubting my words.

Without knowing what else to do, I moved my hand from where it rested on their thighs (which I had somehow forgotten about) to her hands, stopping her from anxiously picking at her nails.

"We'll figure it out," I said, hesitating before continuing. "I promise."

I wasn't sure if a promise from me would mean anything to her, in fact I was certain a promise from me would mean very little to her. Maybe if it came from Newt or Minho she would listen- but certainly not from me. But when she appeared to relax slightly, I felt more content.

Not sure what to do from there on, I turned back over to Newt who was talking, deciding if to keep my hand in hers.

My attention was drawn back to her when I felt a soft line drawn along my pinky, making me shiver. I tried to focus on the meeting, figuring if she wasn't I probably should on her behalf at the very least. My attention was withering rapidly as she gently squeezed my hand. I could feel the tips of my ears heating up, my cheeks becoming rosy, but silently hoped that Y/n wouldn't notice.

The feeling of her holding onto my hand felt different. While I had no memory of holding hands with anyone, there was something about holding her hand that felt special and perhaps even a little bit safe.

[nomoreusername]

Hallucinations

Pairing:Gally x female reader

Summary:The attack from WCKD left deep mental scars only Gally knows how to properly handle.

Blood.

Blood was the only thing that really made sense that night. Blood was the only thing around. It was the only thing that connected me to reality, the only thing I knew was there, the only thing I knew was real. I had felt it pumping through my veins, the same way I smelt it when I shot Chuck, the same way I saw Y/N fall on the floor clutching the side of her face as it poured through her hands.

Blood.

Blood was the only thing to exist.

We both exist now. She made it through the Maze after a freak accident with a Griever ended with a knife to her eye, I made it through the Maze with yet another sting and a gun, and we got picked up by what was at first just masked weirdos who I wasn't totally convinced wouldn't kill us or do some more weird WCKD klunk.

They didn't though. Right Arm found us, her unconscious from the adrenaline crash and me from having a spear a mere two inches from my heart. She unsurprisingly doesn't like to talk about it. To be fair, she never gets to forget it. When she wears her patch over her eye, people question her about why, if they can see what her eye looks like, how it affects her, if her other senses are good, and every invasive thing they can think of. If she doesn't, they gawk at her like she's their personal entertainment. They act like she's not a person and doesn't have one working eye.

I’m not sure if it's what she experienced in the Maze, the loss of vision in that eye, or a mix, but she experiences all these things that I can't even begin to explain. Night terrors, paranoia, hallucinations, and more. Sometimes she tells me what they are, sometimes she doesn't. Sometimes she lets me know when they're happening, and sometimes she's frozen as she stares at something that isn't real or breaking down on the floor.

She has to avoid certain things more than others. Stress, surprises, sudden big changes, and probably other stuff we haven't figured out yet.

We know about violence though. Violence and loud sounds.

“Absolutely not,”I said firmly.

“We need an extra hand-”

“Then, find one,”I dismissed. Still, Brandon insisted on following me, trying to justify why I should tell Y/N she had to come with us to the city.

“Please? I can't find her-”

“Good.”

“Come on. It's just for a few hours. It won't be-”

“Yeah? Well, a few seconds is all it takes to trigger something. Do you want to risk hurting her like that? And if you're too much of an egomaniac to care about that, you're going to have to answer to me if something happens to her,”I warned, not bothering to look at him. I also didn't have to as he walked off, grumbling something under his breath. Not that I care what. He can call me any name he wants as long as he leaves Y/N alone.

♡ - - - ♡

I was right about having her stay behind. Because they're back. I certainly didn't go into the city with the intention of finding the Gladers, but I didn't plan on a lot of things that have happened to me. I didn't plan on trying to sacrifice Greenie and Teresa. I didn't plan on leaving the Maze. I didn't plan on killing Chuck. I didn't plan on almost dying. I didn’t plan on being in Right Arm. I didn't plan on falling in love with the only person I had left. I didn't plan on sharing a bed with her every night.

I have though, just like I have found connections to our old life that I was sure were as good as gone.

Surprise surprise, Brandon. There were angry mobs, there were bombs, and there were kidnappings. It's almost like taking down a powerful organization that murders people isn't a peaceful thing. Shocker.

She stayed behind, working on the creation of the operation. Planning what the next move would be, finding out what WCKD was up to, thinking of any obstacles, all of it. She's the brains, and I’m the brawns.

So she's not here.

She's not here, and I already know how this will end.

She's not here so I took my mask off and waited for the inevitable.

Thomas stared at me with pure hatred. The rage in his eyes was like nothing I’ve ever seen, chilling me to my core. Not even when I hurt him, did he look at me like that. It was nothing dramatic. No exaggerated wide eyes or open mouth. Just a shocked rage.

As the shock faded, the second he found the ability to move, he grabbed the collar of my shirt and punched me square in the jaw, knocking me to the floor. Staying still, I allowed him to tightly grip my shirt while holding his fist to my face. If he punches me again, he punches me. If he doesn't, he doesn't.

Until I heard familiar soft cries that would haunt my dreams now, that I want nothing more than to be safe and well. But she’ll never be well again. Not completely. She can only do so much.

Not caring about it it made him angrier, I shoved him off of me, pushing him to the ground before carefully yet swiftly sitting with her in the far corner. Not yet noticing, she had both her eyes covered as her sobs grew louder, making her words incoherent.

“Y/N, it's not real. Okay? None of it is real,”I coaxed. Shaking her head, she started rocking back and forth while holding her head in her hands.

She hates it when I do this. She really, really does.

But she needs to see as much of reality as possible. So far, it's been one of the few things that grounds her faster.

Gently grabbing her face, I pulled her head out of her knees, making her look at me. She started shaking while holding her head harder, her palms pressing the back of my hands. Not wanting her to hurt herself, I slowly pried them away while still whispering soothing words.

“Gally,”She just barely murmured before saying something else I couldn't understand.

“Yeah. Yeah, it's Gally, okay? It's me,”I said gently.

“Gally,”She repeated through shaky breaths before throwing her arms around me, burying her face in my neck.

“I know. I know,”I assured her, rubbing her back.

“Thomas. Thomas isn't real,”She insisted. Knowing better than to feed into the delusions and to add something big to her plate when she was in the middle of panicking, I just kept holding her. “It's bloody. The wall’s bloody,”She said through heavy breaths.

“I don't see any blood.”

“I’m not crazy,”She said in a more steady but still barely audible voice.

“Everyone knows you aren't crazy.”

“They think I’m crazy. They don't see the Grievers. They don't see it when they don't have a body. They don't see it.”

“The Grievers are back at WCKD. Remember? They made it to hurt us. And people couldn't be alive if they didn't have a body.”

Gripping my shirt, she sniffled as her breathing started getting a little more even. Knowing she had tired herself out, I kissed her temple before picking her up, pulling her to my chest. Curling up, she gently wrapped her arms around my shoulders as I carried her out the room to get to ours.

Thomas can do whatever he wants when this is over. I don't care if he beats me to the brink of death. As long as I’m good enough to comfort her when she needs it, it's okay.

Walking past the door we leave cracked for exactly this reason, I then shut it with my foot before slowly setting her down on the bed. The second her head hit the pillow, she was out.

I’ll sleep beside her. I always will. I’ll hold her as she takes a nap.

I just need to sit for a moment and keep thinking about the best way to make her better. For real this time.

[luvlystarr]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

Prompt: Minho x Reader, he doesnt want you to be a Runner

Content: Fluff

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

You and Minho never got along quite easily. Ever since you arrived at the Glade he paid little attention to you. You two always get into disagreements and arguments because of his sarcastic comments getting on your nerves all the time.

You tried your best to be polite knowing he is the Keeper of the Runners and that he’s the only way you could become a Runner. Yet no matter how much you prove your worth Minho always refuses you.

You’ve told him your reasons as to why you wanted to become one. All you wanted was to help everyone find a way out of this place in hopes to find a better life. But even after your heartfelt speech he replied with a harsh no.

So now you were stuck as a gardener, which wasn’t bad at all. Although it did get boring having to constantly dig up and plant things all the time.

The sun was glaring down at everybody outside, causing the air to be humid and warm. Luckily you were under a shelter, unbothered by the hot weather. Since there wasn’t much gardening to do left you decided to help Fry with cooking. You were chopping up some vegetables while he was stirring something in a pot. The two of you were cooking stew for everybody’s lunch.

You look outside to where the maze is, watching as Minho and Ben running back. You quickly look away before anybody catches you staring at Minho. But of course Fry noticed.

“(Y/N), stop staring or you’ll chop a finger off,” he teased.

You roll your eyes in response and continue the task at hand. Everyone in the Glade noticed your tough relationship with Minho, they would always tease you two about acting like an old married couple.

You didn’t want to admit it but you did look up to Minho. He was strong, smart and always looked after the other Gladers. You just couldn’t understand why he’s always so harsh to you.

You avert your thoughts back onto the chopping board in front of you and focus on cutting the vegetables properly. From a distance you could hear somebody’s footsteps approaching, you didn’t need to turn to see who it was.

“Hey, Minho,” Fry greeted him.

“Hey,” Minho huffed before pouring himself a cup of water.

His eyes landed on you, you could feel him staring intently. You felt pressured under his stare, distracting you from what you’re doing. It must’ve slipped your mind that you were literally holding a sharp object and it only occurred when you felt a sting on your finger.

You let out a hiss of pain as you immediately dropped the knife. A small but deep cut was on your finger with a small portion of blood seeping out.

Before Fry could ask if you’re okay Minho stepped in.

“(Y/N), you alright?” Minho asks while quickly rushing towards you.

You nodded your head but your face was grimacing at the sight. “Yeah..” You muttered.

“C’mon, I’ll take you to the Med-hut.” He gently laid a hand on your shoulder before leading you out of the kitchen.

“Minho, I can handle myself perfectly fine—“

“Just go with me,” he sighs.

“I’m pretty sure Fry has a band-aid.” You try your best to protest since you know Minho just came back from the maze and you didn’t want to burden him. But he kept moving you forward.

You look back to Fry with a look of help in your face. Instead you were greeted with him grinning at the two of you.

Not long after both you reach the Med-hut. Minho quickly asked for a band-aid from Jeff and began patching you up.

“I can do it myself,” you say while trying to push his hands away.

Minho’s grip stayed firm but still gentle around your wrist. It didn’t take long for him to finish.

Now you were getting mixed signals. At first, you were a hundred percent sure that Minho hated your guts, but now he’s here tenderly caressing your hand.

“Why are you acting like you care all of a sudden?” You blurted out without thinking.

Minho was taken aback by your words. “What are you talking about?”

You quickly turn your head the other way, hiding the way your face flushed from embarrassment.

“You always ignore me and argue with me. Just like when I asked to become a Runner. Why are you suddenly looking after me now?” You ask.

Minho sighed deeply, still keeping your wrist in his hand.

“You don’t understand,” he spoke under his breath.

“There’s a reason why I don’t want you to be a Runner,” he says with a stern expression.

You pry your hand away from Minho’s grip and glare back at him. “Is it because you think I’m not capable?” You spoke with bitterness in your voice.

Minho crossed his arms, avoiding your gaze. “No, I know you are.”

“Then why won’t you let me? You and the others need all the help you can get and you won’t even accept my help—”

“I refused because it was the only way to protect you.”

You stare at Minho, speechless and dumbfounded.

“What?”

He finally looks back at you. His eyes were filled with worry. A genuine look you’ve never seen on him before.

“It’s dangerous in the maze. What if you get chased by a Griever and get stung, huh?” His voice rose a little, leaving you stunned.

Minho quickly noticed how you reacted to his response. He took a moment to recollect his composure.

“If I lose you I won’t be able to forgive myself,” he spoke in a softer voice.

He slowly wraps his arms around your body. His strong arms held you close to his body as delicate as possible, almost like you were fragile.

“I really care for you, (Y/N), I really do,” he muttered. “I did what I know is right.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words. Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around him as well.

Although you still want to be a Runner, you understand Minho’s side of the argument.

“I understand now,” you replied.

The two of you bask in each other’s comforting presence. After a moment you could’ve sworn you felt Minho press his lips against your temple. His small gesture caused your heart to skip a beat.

As it turns out, there’s more to Minho than his harsh, sarcastic demeanour.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

[illloveyoutillidie]

I won.

Newt x Reader (TMZ)

summary - Newt and you had a argument, and now he's ignoring you.

The sun was beating hard on your skin and sweat trailed down your forehead. You stopped digging the soil with your shovel and look up, scanning around the glade for a certain blonde haired boy.

Newt.

Your eyes finally catch sight of him, his blonde sandy hair ruffled as the sun beamed at his hair, making his hair shine like gold and his shirt covered in mud.

He stood alone, picking some strawberries. You could tell from the way he pick the strawberries that he was still upset about the argument you had earlier.

You decided to take the opportunity to speak to him privately, away from the Gladers.

You put your shovel down, ditching your gardening duties and walk to Newt's direction.

As you approach him, he glances to see who it is, once he realizes it's you, he stops and turns himself around and stared at you long in the eyes.

he broke eye contact without a word as he looks at you up and down with his dark chocolate brown eyes which longed to be with you again.

He returns his gaze back to the strawberries and wipes his sweat of his forehead with his hand, not saying anything to you as if you weren't there.

"Feeling a little hot, Newt?"

You say jokingly and lean your back on the tree less than a meter away from him. He tries his best to concentrate on picking the strawberries.

"I'll shower later" he answered.

He kept his gaze at the ground, not wanting to look at you.

still sulking.

"can i help?" you asked him

instead of answering your question, he accidentally picked the strawberries too hard, making the stems break and fall.

You knew he would give up if you keep on doing this a little more.

so you did. you take a few steps closer to him.

Newt side glance at you a few times, watching every of your movement and clenches his jaw, resisting the longing feeling, wanting to talk to you, kiss you and touch you which weighed heavy on his shoulders.

"why don't you take a break? you've been picking strawberries all day" you try to reason out.

"No, Frypan wants the strawberries ready today to make strawberries jam"

"I'm sure the strawberries can wait for a little newtie" You say encouraging him.

He stops picking the strawberries and sighed. Newt finally answered your question, pretending to sound uninterested.

"y/n, please not now, I'm busy" looking at you with his deep brown eyes.

but you ignore him and walked closer to him until he can feel your breathe on him.

Your hand snakes it's way to his shoulder and you pulled him closer to you, and whispered in his ear.

"please newt, i want to talk to you" you both looked into each other's eyes, holding eye contact.

his eyes widened and he swallowed hard as he broke eye contact, refusing to look you in the eye.

Silence hanged in the air and for the first time in minutes he had made eye contact with you again.

His face was so stern for the next few seconds and then he suddenly sighed.

he finally gave in.

"You're right, the strawberries can wait" He smiled a little at you as he brush his thumb to your cheek and pulled you closer to him.

what happened next was a blur, he was on you in a second. Lips connected with yours as he backed you up into the tree you were leaning on earlier.

You had won.

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

FUCK YOU, don't leave me

Part Two: Three Weeks (Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five)

Gally x Fem!Reader

3 weeks have passed since the incident that took your feud with Gally to fiery new heights. Apologies have been exchanged, wounds are healing, and you’re trying your very best to move on despite Gally’s recent bout of strange behavior. In the midst of his mounting distraction and your continued efforts to return to business-as-usual, you receive an order from Alby that has you questioning your enemy’s motives like never before.

Genre: enemies to lovers, spice (very briefly it’s mostly plot)

Word Count: 3K  Read Time: 12 Minutes

Warnings & Info: very light very brief sexual content, language, had to change the POV for this one it’s omniscient, movie!Gally, only Glader slang is shank, not the only girl in The Glade, nonessential OC’s added

Author’s Note: At first I thought this fic was gonna be a oneshot, then two parts, and now it’s honestly looking more like four. Hope y’all enjoy reading this one as much as I’m enjoying writing it; it really heats up in the next part (there’s smut lol);)

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It’s been 3 weeks since the bonfire incident and every one of the days within them has been grueling for you. 3 weeks of apologies; to Alby, Newt, Elsie, Thomas, Ben, Lierale, Chuck and anyone else that had the misfortune of being near the bonfire that night. 3 weeks of waking up stiff from a night of sleeping in The Pit (Alby’s punishment). 3 weeks of evacuating the med-hut everytime Gally needed a check-up. 3 weeks of busy work and late shifts, trying to silently repay Clint and Jeff for their services that night by doing all the jobs they hate doing. 3 weeks of doing your own wound care. 3 weeks of staying out of everyone’s way and trying but failing to avoid the stares. And hardest of all, 3 weeks of having to come to terms with the fact that you’d finally gone too far. 

You had always prided yourself on only fighting Gally back in a defensive manner; only pushing back as much as he pulled you. But this stunt had thrown that streak out the window. Though it didn’t change the way you felt about him, you had to admit that scarring him permanently with an alcohol-fueled bonfire was hardly an appropriate punishment for slut-shaming and verbal harassment. 

For the first 3 days after the incident you were only let out of The Pit to go to the bathroom and shower. Alby had agreed to let you return to normal duties, if you continued to sleep in The Pit every night and didn’t socialize outside of work. But the main condition of your parole, (and the hardest one to fulfill), was an apology to Gally. It had taken place behind the Map Room, (a neutral location), and Alby had invited himself, Minho and Ben to keep the peace. Despite the countless apologies that had flowed from your lips like a never-ending tap, this one seemed to all but dry you up.

You had found it hard to meet Gally’s eyes at first, choosing to scan the bandages wrapped tightly around his strong arms, which were crossed in front of his chest. Your eyes finally settled on the prominent veins on the top of his left hand as you struggled to choke out the words.

“I’m sorry Gally,” you’d started, devoid of emotion. You lifted your head to meet his eyes. 

“You’re a dumb asshole…” Alby, Minho, and Ben moved in closer. “...but you didn’t deserve that,” you finished earnestly. 

“I am sorry that I hurt you. I hope it makes you feel better that I am also very hurt,” you continued with a dryer tone, motioning to the bandages wrapped around your chest and hands, a small smile tugging at your lips. Gally had returned it, against his better judgement. He looked to Alby, who gave him a reassuring nod.

“I’m sorry too, Y/N,” he said with a blank expression on his face.

“You’re the worst shank I’ve ever met…” Minho rolled his eyes. “...but I shouldn't have called you a slut. It’s not your fault all the guys around here only think with their dick,” he finished, using a softer tone that didn’t suit his defensive stance.

“And it does make me feel better, by the way,” he shrugged, nodding his head at the bandages poking out of your shirt.

“How about you shake on it?” Alby suggested cooly.

“No way,” you stated bluntly, your eyes narrowing as they never left Gally’s.

“Fuck no,” Gally scoffed, still staring at you. “The apology was painful enough,”

“Alright fine,” Alby conceded. “Get back to work. And if either of you come anywhere near each other, you’ll be living in The Pit until the next greenie comes up, am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Gally replied, finally turning his eyes to Alby’s face. You nodded slowly. Alby looked suspicious, but he waved his hand to dismiss you both. You both turned abruptly and took off walking in opposite directions, you towards the Med-hut and Gally towards his construction site. The three makeshift peacekeepers turned the corner to enter the Map Room.

“That was an apology?” Ben asked, scanning Minho’s expression for a hint of the same shock he was experiencing. 

“If I had nearly blown up The Glade, seriously burned someone and then tried to apologize to them like that, I think Alby would throw me to The Maze and lock the doors,” Minho just shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s the best we’re gonna get from those two. I’m just glad they didn’t try to kill each other on sight,” he countered, relieved it was over. After this apology, you and Gally had resumed your persistent yet unspoken agreement to never find yourselves near each other and any vague plots of revenge had died quickly, much to everybody’s relief. But it wasn’t exactly business as usual for Gally.

His 3 weeks have gone by a little differently than yours. 3 weeks of changing drainage-soaked bandages. 3 weeks of constant jokes about your outburst from his crew. 3 weeks of being watched like a hawk for any lingering retaliation plots. 3 weeks of being interrogated by his friends about his feelings on the matter. 3 weeks of daily check-ups in the med-hut by Clint & Jeff. 3 weeks of an extremely early curfew & a laundry list of extra chores set in place by Alby, who assured him that his role in the incident would not go unpunished. But he can deal with all of that.

The thing he’s having a harder time dealing with is how distracted he’s been. It’s so obvious that something’s bothering him that his crew has taken notice, his friends are concerned and even you can tell something’s not quite right. And that’s the thing that’s really been bothering him these last three weeks. The racing thoughts that are so out of character, Gally would rather fight a Griever barehanded than tell anyone about them.

The thoughts crept in slowly, like the beginning of a fever. He knew what he saw in the Med-hut that night and he knew his reaction. Arousal, obviously. He didn’t try to deny it to himself; that would have been pointless. But he did come up with a million justifications for it, each one weaker than the last.

I was drunk. 

He’d repeat to himself like a mantra. 

I was drunk and in pain and not in my right mind. 

He’d repeat with less confidence.  

I’m a repressed teenage boy who’s spent 3 years in a prison, most of that time with only other teenage boys. 

He’d continue, committing this list of contingencies to memory. 

That’s just a normal reaction for a boy to have when seeing a girl shirtless. It’s got nothing to do with feelings; it’s just human nature.

He’d think, coming up with some bullshit biological, animalistic, purely knee-jerk reason for the way his cheeks flushed while looking at you. The way he suddenly felt dizzy and not from the pain. The way his eyes widened and his thoughts immediately derailed into an X-rated movie.

I can’t fucking stand her. 

He’d always save this justification for last as it seemed to bring a finality to the matter. That just because he’s a warm-blooded male with the same instincts and needs as the rest of his species, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the worst shank he’s ever met. So that was that. His mind had found an uneasy peace with it. Until the dreams started. 

They would come in flashes, just sensual tableaus that came right out of every abstract fantasy he’d ever come up with in the shower or late at night in his bed. Your lips on his neck, your hands gripping the coarse sheets of his bed, the feeling of plush skin beneath his hands, soft moans filling the warm air around him. He’d wake up breathless, all the warmth from his face draining to his boxers.

The fever was rising in pitch.

It was after these dreams that he’d thank the gods that his Keeper status got him a private hut so he could…take care of himself before heading off to work. But the thoughts would follow him throughout the day, spiking his body temperature each time they interrupted him.

“Watch it Gally!” a blonde-haired Builder hissed, ducking out of the way of the lumber he’d had slung over his shoulder that became a beheading hazard when he’d turned too fast. This was more than a week after the incident and Gally’s head had been preoccupied with the image of you on your knees, instead of his surroundings.

“Sorry sorry. My fault,” he’d mumbled back, trying to conceal the flush in his cheeks and cursing at himself under his breath.

“Gally the wall!” Newt had exclaimed five days later, pointing to the newly erected wooden structure that Gally had failed to notice while shoving his nose in the newest blueprints he’d drawn up. His head hit it with a hollow thump.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his papers and massaging his forehead with his palm. Newt dropped his gardening hoe and jogged over.

“You alright mate?” he inquired lightly, trying to conceal the concern in his voice. If the ever-unflappable Gally had gotten to the point of literally running into walls, then there was definitely cause for concern.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Gally grumbled, shaking his head and trying to come to his senses. Unfortunately this accident had taken place in the middle of the day in one of the most trafficked areas of the Glade. And so the whispering had started. The strange glances his way during meal times, the ever growing mountain of well-meaning questions from coworkers and friends alike. The sentiment that Gally was for some reason, losing his mind, had even floated all the way into the med-hut, where you overheard it from Clint and Jeff.

“Yeah I don’t know, it's just weird. The shank’s a drill sergeant and now all the sudden he’s letting everybody off work an hour early?” Clint stated incredulously, wiping down a table that had been used to stitch up a nasty cut on a Builder’s arm a few minutes ago. The boy had come in an hour before sunset and Jeff had marveled in awe that he’d managed to convince Gally that a cut was enough of a reason to leave work early. The boy had responded, wide-eyed and with a hushed voice, that Gally let everyone out of work early, not just him.

“Maybe he’s sick. Maybe he’s been stung and this is the first phase of The Changing.” Jeff countered with a grin, emptying an armful of bloodied gauze into the fire.

“I hope not. Gally would make one hell of a Crank,” Clint scoffed and Jeff chuckled in response. You stopped pretending to go over the injury logs for the week behind the half wall that was obstructing your view of your coworkers, who you were shamelessly eavesdropping on. You rounded the corner quickly, intent on butting in.

“Gally let everyone out of work early?!” you asked dumbfounded. Clint and Jeff jumped slightly at your question and scanned your face for any trace of an outburst forming.

“Uh, yeah. It’s weird huh?,” Clint answered uneasily, still unsure of your motives. You weren’t exactly sure of your own motives so you gave a subtle nod of approval at his rhetorical question.

Why the hell would Gally let everyone out of work early? You’d seen him around the Glade with a dazed look in his eyes and you’d heard from Newt that he ran into a wall last week, but you couldn’t fathom what would be making him so distracted. You weren’t given much time to mull over the possibilities, as Alby suddenly appeared in the open door of the Med-hut, rapping curtly on the wooden door.

“Y/N, do you have a minute?” your leader asked calmly.

“Of course,” you responded quickly, trying to keep the panic flooding through your body at bay.

“Walk with me,” he motioned with his arm. You crossed the hut and followed him out the door, running through the list of everything you’ve done in the last several weeks, trying to find the discretion you were sure Alby was about to scold you for.

The sun was setting on The Glade, and it cast a distinctly romantic feeling into the air. You admired the orange and pink hues reflected onto the green grass and drank in the warm air that was punctuated by the excited chattering of your fellow Gladers in the distance, who were setting up for tonight’s bonfire. Your chest tightened at the thought. You knew you’d be the talk of the night and that everyone with a thirst for chaos would be hoping for a round 2 of your pyrotechnic prowess.

“So it’s bonfire night,” Alby broke the silence with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Yeah I know Alby. Don’t worry, I just need to clean up in the med-hut and I’ll be straight off to The Pit before it’s even dark,” You tried to get ahead of his warnings. But Alby was taken aback by this statement; he didn’t have any warnings to give. In fact quite the opposite.

“No Y/N, I want you to be there tonight,” You stopped dead in your tracks, your ears ringing slightly.

“What? Why?!” Alby tried not to be affected by your shock and continued with his well-rehearsed speech.

“I’ve spoken to Gally about this. If you two don’t go, the excitement about your incident from last month will only continue. It’s already all anyone will talk about. I know you’ve noticed that all eyes have been on you two,” he stated with a concerned look on his face that finally confirmed to you that he wasn’t joking.

“Of course I’ve noticed Alby, people call me “Firecracker” more often than my name. But if we go, it’ll be chaos,” you countered, your voice hissing slightly at the pronunciation of what was rapidly becoming your least favorite nickname. Honestly, you’d do anything to go back to your earliest days in The Glade, when a particularly cruel sect of boys started calling you “Suzy Swallows” after you’d eaten a banana at the breakfast table with a little too much gusto.

“If you both go and you both keep your temper in check,” Alby glared at you, “and you both stay sober,” he raised his voice slightly, punctuating the last word, “and everyone sees that nothing happens tonight then it will all blow over. If you don’t go, the gossip will only grow and we’ll just have to deal with it twofold next month. It’s better to rip the bandage off,” 

That last sentence was more to reassure himself than you. The Glade has to move on from this. It needs order to function and a female arsonist is the direct antithesis to that order. It’s bad enough he can’t seem to get a large sect of the boys to keep their hands off the very few girls; god forbid they all start thinking the best way to deal with that conflict is to set the place on fire.

“Is this an order, Alby?” You couldn’t think of any other protests at the moment. Alby did have a point; you and Gally not being there would almost certainly ensure that no one would be talking about anything else.

“Yes it is,” he retorted quickly. He quickly softened his tone. “Besides, you deserve a bit of a break, Y/N. You’ve been doing really good this past month. If everything goes well tonight, you can sleep in your own bed again and be free to do what you like after work,”

The sound of his praise elicited a sigh of relief that washed over your tense body like a wave of warm water. Alby knew you weren’t inherently stupid or destructive; just prone to bouts of occasional drunkenness and pigheadedness like the rest of the Gladers. He felt that your punishments had more than compensated for your crime and frankly he was starting to feel guilty every time he saw you timidly navigating your day to day activities with the demeanor of a kicked puppy.

“Ok. Let me finish up in the med-hut and get changed, and I’ll be there. Thank you, Alby,”

“You’re welcome,” he paused, a conflicted look on his face, as he pondered if he should mention one other detail of this arrangement. “You might want to thank Gally too. When I brought up this idea to him, he offered to stay in his hut and let you go tonight, but I refused. It seems despite your feud,” the corners of his mouth upturned in a slight smile, “he thinks you deserve a break, too,” Alby continued in the direction you’d both been walking in, still wondering if it had been wise to divulge that fact to you. He wasn’t sure if it would soften your anger towards Gally but he was confident it couldn’t make it any worse. You had remained frozen in place, bewilderment setting in rapidly.

What the fuck??

Gally had offered to do something…kind for you? He’d offered to sit out bonfire night, the one night a month in which he can let off steam by beating the shit out of greenies and getting his friends drunk, for you? You turned your head slightly, wondering if you were about to watch The Glade freeze over or The Maze come crumbling down, as the likelihood of those things happening seemed higher than the likelihood of what you’d just been told. You shook your head to clear the confusion and started half-running, half-walking to the Med-hut, finally letting the excitement of getting to do something fun for the first time in a month swell in your chest.

You never thought you would ever feel the sentiment that came to your mind next. It went against every instinct you had and all the history you’d established in your time in The Glade. But you couldn’t help it, the warm feeling of gratitude spread through your chest quickly and you found yourself muttering a very unusual string of words as you approached the Med-hut doors.

“Thank you Gally,”

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Tags: @katie-tibo @my-little-universes @vaille123

[loveroffictionalmen]

hey! i just came over from tiktok, could you possibly do a gally x reader where he tries to act tough around all of the guys but (y/n) starts teasing about how sweet he actually is and he has to try and defend himself but gets all flustered over it, but can’t get mad at (y/n) cause he’s got that fat crush on her? (fem pronouns possibly please?)

Not So Tough

Pairing: Gally x fem!reader

Description: Gally has a hard exterior, but secretly melts when y/n is around.

Warnings: smooching, glade slang, idk just a lot of fluff, gally being a bit of a jerk

Words: 651

Prompt: Grumpy x Sunshine Trope

A/N: It lowkey ends kinda abruptly but OH WELL HERE YA GO

“Gally, would you please stop yelling at the rest of the builders and actually start building?” Newt called from the gardens.

“No can do, I gotta make sure everyone stays in line, that’s why you put me in charge of the builders, remember?” Gally called back, yelping soon after when one of the newer gladers dropped a piece of wood on his head. “You shank! Look what you’ve done! Dropping klunk all over the place, you should be sent to the slammer!”

“Gally, is that really any way to talk to the new guy?” Y/n jogged up to Gally from the med-jack hut where she was just supervising Clint and Jeff. Y/n was somewhat of a floater when it came to jobs. When they were testing what jobs she was good at, she was nearly good at every single one. Well, except for the slicers. Poor Winston nearly scared the girl half to death when he first came out with a machete.

“I uh- Well he dripped- I mean dropped that shucking piece of wood on me an-” Gally stammered.

“Gally, c’mon give the guy a break, he’s only been here a week,” Y/n said with a soft smile.

“Look, I’m just trying to do my job, gotta make sure everything gets done, right?” Gally said, seeming to regain his composure.

“And it will get done, you can just be a little nicer about it through,” Y/n said, placing a hand on Gally’s arm and running her fingers down his bicep.

Gally blushed. Y/n was playing him like a fiddle and she knew damn well what she was doing.

“I’ll see you at supper?” Y/n said.

“You know you’re the only one that calls it that, right? It’s dinner,” Gally snorted.

“Oh shut it, you know you love me,” Y/n said before turning over her shoulder and walking away, not before giving Gally one last smile. Gally stood there for a moment, not sure what to do with himself.

“Oi, Gally, what were you saying about making sure things get done?” Newt called, snickering to Alby.

“Oh slim it,” Gally growled. “No- you can’t hammer that in, there’s not a screw to hold it together!” He turned his attention to the Greenie.

___

“Hey big guy, not interested in tackling anyone to the ground tonight?” Y/n’s voice came from above Gally.

“No, not tonight, gonna try to go to sleep early,” Gally said, getting up and trying his best to avoid y/n. But before he could leave, y/n grabbed his wrist.

“Wait- did today really bother you?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gally broke away from her grip and tried to escape again, but she was too quick for him. She grabbed his arm again.

“You know what I’m talking about. I didn’t think it would bother you, I thought you would actually like it, y’know considering I was flirting with you.” Gally’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“Oh my god,” Y/n laughed. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Kinda hard to pay attention to that when things need to get done,” Gally cleared his throat, trying his hardest to hide the smile that was forming on his face.

“Oh don’t act like you weren’t blushing the whole time you- oh my god you’re even blushing right now!” She laughed.

“Shh, no I’m not,” Gally smiled back at her, the blush returning to his cheeks.

“You are! Gally’s blushing! Gally’s blu-” Y/n called when she was cut off.

Gally’s lips crashed into hers as his hand moved to her cheeks. Y/n closed her eyes and sunk into the kiss, bringing her arms around his neck. When Gally pulled away first, y/n smiled.

“What was that for?” She breathed.

“To shut you up,” Gally smiled. He looked to her lips and back to her eyes. “And also because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

[thedraculacat]

Mending Hearts ೃ⁀⤵

gally x reader

masterlist

synopsis: when gally shows up at the safe haven with injured gladers, you're the medic tasked with patching them up- including the charming minho whose flirting doesn't go unnoticed. but it's a late night visit from gally that leads to a moment of honesty and a kiss that changes everything.

w/c: 2.1k

The steady hum of voices in the safe haven is suddenly interrupted by a group of footsteps, urgent and heavy, followed by muffling shouts. The sound is enough to make your pulse quicken. You glance up, exchanging looks with a few others who are near. Without a word, you all rush toward the entrance where the noise grows louder.

As you reach the door, you see Gally, flanked by several others, guiding a ragged group of new arrivals into the shelter. The newcomers look battered, their faces a mix of exhaustion and pain. Some of them limp, others stumble, barely able to stand on their own.

Your heart sinks at the sight. You’ve seen enough wounds in your time to recognize when people are in serious trouble.

You quickly make your way to Gally’s side, your eyes scanning the group of strangers, already making a mental note of who needs immediate attention.

“What’s going on?” you ask, keeping your voice steady despite the rising anxiety in your chest. You’re used to the chaos but something about this feels different.

Gally glances over at you, his face tight with tension. His gaze is piercing as always but there’s something beneath it now that you haven’t seen before. You catch his eyes for a moment, but he quickly turns away, not wanting to linger on unnecessary details.

“They’re part of us now,” he says quickly, motioning to the injured group. “Gladers. Been through hell, so get to work. Tend to their wounds, okay?”

You nod without hesitation. You know your role here, know what’s expected and don’t question it. You follow Gally’s lead, your focus shifting to the woman closest to you- her face pale and the bloodstains on her clothes dark.

You step forward, offering her a gentle smile despite the knot of worry in your stomach. “Come with me,” you say softly, linking your arm around hers to steady her. “Let’s get you checked out.”

She seems to lean into your support, her eyes tired but grateful. You can feel the weight of her pain and it only makes you more determined to help.

Without another word, you guide her toward the medical area, Gally’s form still visible in the background, his eyes scanning the room, seemingly unsure of the patient you’ve decided to take in first.

You take a steadying breath as you focus on Minho’s palm, carefully cleaning the cut. The room is quiet except for the soft sound of the medical supplies rustling in your hands and the occasional hums of conversation from the others in the shelter.

Minho, however, isn’t as quiet. He’s leaning back in the chair, casually draping one arm over the armrest, giving you a smile that makes his eyes twinkle with mischief.

“That feels so much better,” he says, watching you intently as you work. “But your hands feel way too soft for someone who’s been through what you have.”

You chuckle, glancing up at him as you finish cleaning the wound. “You’d be surprised,” you reply with a grin, your fingers moving to apply a bandage to his palm. “I’ve had my fair share of rough days.”

Minho’s gaze never wavers, his smirk widening. “I bet. That’s why I don’t usually let people get this close,” he adds, his tone light and teasing. “But… I gotta admit, I don’t mind when it’s you.”

A little laugh escapes you at the compliment, your fingers working faster now to wrap the bandage securely around his hand. “Lucky me, then,” you tease. “I’m pretty good at making people feel comfortable.”

He leans forward slightly, his pulse quickening under your touch, and you notice it- his heart rate elevating, maybe a little too much. You check his pulse, the rhythm of his heartbeat strangely quick beneath your fingers.

“I apologize if it’s high,” Minho says with a bit of a nervous chuckle. “You make me a bit nervous.”

You meet his eyes, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smile. “It’s okay. I heard from some of the others you’re fast at running but let’s hope you won’t be fast at landing yourself in trouble.” You give him a playful look, hoping to distract him a bit from the tension that was building in the air between you two.

Minho grins at that, the cockiness never leaving his voice. “I’d like to think I can keep myself in check. But seeing your face,” he says, his voice lowering just slightly, his gaze softer now, “definitely makes this whole thing a little more enjoyable.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, even as the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Just my face, huh?” you tease, your eyes narrowing in mock suspicion.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, that smile helps too. But honestly?” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice. “I think I could get used to this.”

The words are soft, but there’s an unmistakable hint of sincerity in them that catches you off guard. It feels like an invitation- one you aren’t sure whether or not to accept.

Before you can answer, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching the door, and a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Though you don’t turn around to see who it is, Gally stands in the doorway, his posture stiff, his eyes flicking between you and Minho. He doesn’t say a word, but there’s a bit of something in his eyes before he quickly turns and walks back down the hall without a second glance.

You finish up the last of the bandaging, trying to regain a bit of composure. “All done,” you say, giving him a friendly smile. “Try not to get into trouble now.”

Minho gives you one last, teasing look before standing up. “I’ll try, but I make no promises. You know where to find me if you need someone to talk to.”

He shoots you a wink as he walks away, leaving you standing there with a mix of amusement and a hint of lingering curiosity.

The mess hell buzzes with the typical hum of voices, forks scraping plates, and the occasional outburst of laughter. You’re halfway through your food when the noise shifts- just slightly, but enough to catch your attention.

Your eyes flick toward the hallway just in time to see Gally emerging, walking quickly, shoulders tense, and your stomach drops to see a deep gash running down his forearm. Blood drips from his fingers, leaving a red trail behind.

You’re already on your feet when you see Teresa step out of the room behind him, her expression unreadable, lips pressed tight. Something had definitely happened.

“Gally!” you call, quickly making your way toward him. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine,” he mutters, brushing past you with a firm shoulder and a deeper scowl than usual.

“Yeah? Cause your arm says otherwise.” You move to catch up with him, trying to get a better look at the wound. “Let me see it.”

He stops only long enough to turn and give you a warning look. “I said I’m fine.”

You don’t push but you don’t let it go.

When he disappears into your medical room, you wait a few moments, then follow.

You find him standing by the counter, fumbling one ehanded with a roll of bandages, trying to clean and wrap the wound himself. But his hands are trembling just slightly- not from fear, but from frustration and anger. Maybe something deeper.

You linger in the doorway for a second. “You know that’s not how you do it, right?”

He looks up, jaw clenched, but doesn’t speak.

“Let me help.”

He doesn’t say yes. But he doesn’t stop you either.

You approach slowly, grabbing gauze, antiseptic, and a clean roll of wrap. Gally sits on the edge of the table, holding his arm out with a reluctant grunt.

You work in silence at first. The room feels charged, quiet minus the sound of your fingers unwrapping the bandages and the soft wince he tries to hide when you press into the wound to clean it.

“You want anything for the pain?” you ask gently, keeping your focus on his arm.

“No.”

Your brows furrow. “Something for stress then, maybe?”

He scoffs under his breath, his gaze fixed on a point across the room. “Don’t need anything.”

You don’t answer right away. Just wrap the bandage around his arm, firm but gently, your fingers brushing his skin in a way that feels like it matters more than it should. He doesn’t pull away this time.

There’s something in the way he looks at you, finally- something unspoken. A flicker of vulnerability, of things he can’t say, or maybe won’t let himself. You meet his eyes, sensing the weight behind them, like he’s holding the world on his back and can’t affort to let anyone help him carry it.

You smooth the last bit of bandage down and step back, giving him space. “There,” you say softly. “Done.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move.

Then he stands, flexes his bandaged arm once, and gives you a stiff nod. “Thanks,” he says quietly, almost too quietly.

And just like that, he turns and walks out.

Leaving you standing in the middle of the room, alone, the weight of everything unspoken still thick in the air.

The med room is quiet, the kind of stillness that only comes at night. You sit on your cot, brushing your hair out of your face as you stretch and sigh. Your pajamas- just worm left-overs from a supply rade- are a little too thin for the chill in the air, but it’s not like you are expecting visitors this late.

That is, until a knock echoes against the door.

You blink, confused. Then pad over and open it.

Gally stands there, his hair slightly messed like he’d run a hand through it too many times, his expression tired. His eyes dropped, just briefly, taking in your appearance- bare legs, tank top, loose hair- before flicking back up to your face. He doesn’t say anything at first.

“... What are you doing here?” you ask gently.

He hesitates, hands shoving deep into his pockets. “Can’t sleep.”

You sigh quietly but step aside. “Come in.”

He walks past you, slower than usual, less sure of himself. He doesn’t look at you- not really- and keeps his eyes on the floor as he sits on the edge of your small exam table.

You move toward the shelf, rummaging through your supplies until you find a small amber bottle. “Is it the stress?”

He nods once. “Yeah.”

You hand him the bottle. “Here. Take one each night. Helps you fall asleep, and wake up feeling a little less… well, it’ll take the edge off.”

As he reaches for it, your fingers brush- warm skin against warm skin- and you pause for a second too long. He doesn’t pull away. Neither do you.

You look at him then, really look. His shoulders still carry the weight of the world, but for the first time, he’s really letting you see. That means something.

“All that stress?” you say softly. “It’s no wonder you can’t sleep.You’re trying to carry it all on your own.”

His jaw tightens. “Someone’s got to.”

“Maybe,” you murmur, “but healing has to start somewhere. And sometimes… it starts with forgiveness.”

He scoffs, low and bitter, but it isn’t convincing. “Forgiveness, huh?”

You nod. “You’re not alone in this, Gally. They’re not bad people. The others- they’re not who you remember them to be.”

“They left me,” he says, his tone sharper now. “Left me for dead. Minho tried to…”

Your heart aches, but you smile anyway. “I didn’t,” you whisper. “And I don’t plan on steering you in the wrong direction anytime soon. I mean it, Gally, they’ve grown just like you have.”

You reach out without thinking and place a hand on his arm, warm and solid under your touch. He looks down at where your fingers rest, and back up again. That’s when you realize just how close you are.

His hand comes up slowly, brushing your cheek. You lean into it just slightly, breath catching. “I’d be dead without you,” he says, like it’s the only truth he remembers.

You meet his gaze, unwavering. “I would be too. Without you.”

He doesn’t say anything else.

He just kisses you.

It’s tentative at first, but full of emotion- months of tension, unspoken words, and buried feelings spilling into this one moment. His hand cups your cheeks, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and time stands still.

When you finally pull back, his forehead rests against yours. Neither of you say anything.

You don’t have to.

He is still here. And so are you.

And for now, that is enough.

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