#tmr thomas x you

[bruisedboys]

please write for tmr!thomas i beg of you

tmr!thomas x reader | established relationship, fluff and hurt/comfort, 1k words (set in the scorch trials!)

you, thomas and your friends find sanctuary from the scorch with the right arm. unfortunately, they don’t provide any sanctuary from nightmares.

“Are you awake?”

Thomas feels you shift under his arm. You’re curled into his side, arm slung over his chest and thigh pressed to his. He hums.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” he murmurs back. “What’s up?”

He feels your hand glide across his stomach and your fingers curl around his hip. It makes him shiver.

“Nothing,” you hum. “Just thinking.”

Thomas huffs. Typical you, keeping yourself awake for no good reason. “Stop thinking and go to sleep then, sweetheart. You need rest.”

You muffle a giggle in his shirt. It warms his chest all the way through. “You’re mean.”

“And you’re keeping me up,” Thomas says back, only half serious. “Go to sleep.”

Eventually you do as he says. These days Thomas always always has waits for you to fall asleep first before letting himself drift off. It makes him feel better about himself. He does everything in his power to make sure you’re safe and healthy and happy, but it’s hard when you’re on your own in a sick world, running from a government organisation that wants you for your blood.

The Scorch has been unforgiving, but you’ve braved through like you always do, never once complaining, always making sure the rest of the group are okay. Thomas thinks someone as lovely as you doesn’t deserve to live in a world like this. It’s half the reason he’s as determined as he is the find somewhere safe.

Well, you’ve found sanctuary for now, at least, with the Right Arm. You and Thomas are sharing a tent with the rest of the group — Minho, Newt, Frypan — none of whom seem to be willing to seperate from each other, despite the spare tents the Right Arm offers. It speaks volumes about where the real safety net is.

Eventually Thomas falls asleep too. He’s not sure how long he sleeps until he’s woken by you. You don’t mean to wake him, he thinks, but he’s a bad sleeper at the best of times, and he’s got a sixth sense for this kind of thing, anyway.

He blinks his eyes open sluggishly. It’s dark, but the campfire still flickers outside the tent, so he can just make out your figure. You’re sitting up straight, stiff as a board. Panic slices through his heart like a cold knife.

“Y/N?” He murmurs. He finds your thigh under the sleeping bag you’re sharing and braces his hand on it to help him sit up. “Baby, are you okay?”

Thomas’ eyes slowly adjust to the light until he realises, with a pang in his chest, that you’re crying. Thankfully, you don’t seem to be in any immediate danger. Everyone else is still fast asleep, and everything’s quiet outside the tent. Still, he doesn’t like the way your shoulders are shaking.

“Sorry,” you gasp. You’re holding your face in two clammy hands, fingers cruel where you scrub at your tears. “Didn’t mean to wake you. I just—“

“Bad dream?” Thomas asks gently. He can guess well enough. He’s had his fair share, and while he’s not an expert on the human mind or anything, he can see that you’re pretty shaken up.

You nod. Tears splash down your front. “Yeah,” you mumble. “Sorry.”

Thomas frowns at you as he brings his hand to your shoulder.

“Stop apologising,” he says, squeezing you gently. His drags his thumb across your collarbone, soothing. He doesnt want to think about what you’d’ve done if he hadn’t woken up. Would you have suffered all by yourself? The thought alone feels like a bullet to his heart. “It’s okay, babe, really. Can I give you a hug?”

You nod viciously. Thomas makes a pitying sound from deep in his chest and wraps you up in a hug, sliding his hand to the nape of your neck to encourage your head over his shoulder. You’re shaking like a leaf, your cheek damp and warm where it presses to his neck.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs to you. It’s all he can say, really. He can’t tell you it wasn’t real, because the chances that you had dreamed about something very real, and equally horrifying, are high. He strokes your hair, feeling a little useless but a lot sorry. “I’ve got you.”

Somebody stirs across the tent. Thomas watches over your shoulder as that somebody sits up.

“Thomas?” It’s Newt. His voice is raspy with sleep but he sounds concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Thomas feels something akin to a rush of gratitude for his empathetic friend. If anything was ever to happen to Thomas, he at least knows for certain Newt would take care of you.

“Yeah, Newt,” he says. “Everything’s fine. We’re good. Just a nightmare, I’ve got it.”

Newt hums and his lanky figure drops back to the tent floor. Meanwhile you’re sniffling over Thomas’ shoulder, your hands screwed into the back of his shirt.

Thomas can’t be sure if Newt’s still awake, but he doesn’t really care if his friend hears him or not. He’s past being embarrassed about how much he cares for you. Thomas draws back and takes your face in his hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks you.

“Not really,” you whisper back. Your anguished tone breaks Thomas’ heart clean in two.

“Okay. That’s alright,” Thomas tells you, as kind as he can when he’s up to his ears with worry. He swipes his thumbs over your cheeks, rubbing away your hot tears. He gives you a reassuring smile. “Do you want some water?”

You nod. Thomas reaches behind him to pull his metal flask from a meagre pile of supplies. He unscrews the lid and encourages the bottle into your hands.

“Here, babe,” he says softly. “It’ll help.”

He steadies your shaking hands with his own and helps you have a few gulps of water. When he returns the bottle to it’s place you’ve calmed significantly. Your cheeks are still damp and sticky but your tears have ebbed, at least.

Thomas smiles at you. He’s sure he looks sick with concern but he tries not to let it show, thumbing your cheek with as much tenderness as he can manage. “Let’s lie down, yeah? C’mon, sweetheart.”

He tugs you down with him. You slump onto his chest and push your hand under his shirt. You’re really warm, but it gives him goosebumps anyway.

“You’re safe with me,” he promises. It’s a promise he doesn’t plan on breaking, ever. He rubs your back. Big, rough sweeps that have you going lax in his arms almost instantaneously. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I promise.”

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, and feel free to send more reqs for thomas!

[freedomfireflies]

Can we get an angsty Thomas blurb? 👀

“Hey. Hey. Don’t fucking walk away from me when I’m talking to you. Hey—”

Thomas’s fingers find your arm, tugging furiously as you’re yanked to a halt, nearly colliding with his chest as he demands your attention.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hisses, pressure hard along your skin, as if attempting to shake the answer from you. “Huh? The fuck was that—”

“I told you, I’m done,” you respond flatly, expression bored as you slip your arm from his grasp. “Do whatever you want, I’m not staying to watch.”

You turn, striding toward the ruins of buildings before you, ready to disappear into the crowd of people before Thomas is brushing past you and coming to a stop.

“Enough,” he barks, a distraught look on his face as you’re forced to freeze. “S’this cause of what Gally said? Cause he’s wrong. It’ll be easy—”

“It’s not about Gally and you know that—”

“Then what?” He straightens up, eyes flicking between yours as he waits. Waits for an answer he already has.

You purse your lips shut. You nod your chin at him. Wait for him to connect the pieces himself.

And you watch as he does. Watch the way his brows pull together and his teeth scrape. “Really?”

“Really,” you agree, arms crossing. “I’m not putting Minho’s life on the line for your ego.”

“I’m not—” He stops, quickly lowering his voice as he glances around. “M’not fucking putting his life on anything. This is just our only chance to get him back—”

“No. It’s not.” You take a step closer to him, searching his face for any sign of something you can trust. “You know the right thing to do and you’re not doing it. Which shouldn’t really be a surprise at this point, and yet here we are.”

The muscles in his jaw constrict. “This is the right thing—”

“No, the right thing to do is go with Gally, and you don’t want to because you’d rather get everybody killed than admit he might know what he’s doing,” you correct, a rather disappointed lilt in your tone.

He moves closer to you, nearly nose to nose as he glances down with vicious contempt and murmurs, “And you think I should give two fucking shits about Gally after everything he’s done? After what he did to Chuck? To all of us? You think I should throw a fucking parade and follow him into battle?”

You don’t fall victim to his attempt for dominance, merely straightening up as you respond, “I remember what he did. I’ll always remember. Just like I remember how he saved our asses from getting lit up and knows the layout better than we do. If he says your way isn’t possible, then I believe him because sometimes, you don’t use your head.”

A bitter scoff. He glances away. Pretends to be oblivious. “Don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Why don’t you really wanna do this?” Your voice softens, hoping to expel the truth. “Can’t just be about Gally because even you know he’s our best chance at getting to Minho. What’s really going on?”

Again, Thomas hesitates, fingers flexing by his side as he regards you suspiciously. “Nothing, I just don’t think it’ll work—”

“Is this about Teresa? About what she said last time we were there?”

His eyes widen, frown deepening as he leans back, clearly taking great offense. “What? No, s’not about her—”

“Are you worried about Newt?”

Another indifferent scoff. “I’m always fucking worried about Newt, but that’s not—”

“Brenda will be there, Thomas. If we can trust anybody, we can trust her—”

“It’s not about that—”

“Then what?”

Now, you both still, voices having risen until you’re teetering on the edge of screaming.

He’s silent now, chest heaving as he battles the real answer in his mind. Refuses to let you in. Refuses to just admit what you’re afraid you already know.

“We’re not doing it that way,” he finally huffs, voice coarse like gravel. “Okay? It won’t work and it’s too dangerous.”

“It’s not dangerous, it’s simple—”

“No.” The excessive force of his refusal has you leaning back, heart hammering in your chest.

Despite your better judgment, you snort, brushing past him as you mumble, “Fine. Then like I said, I’m done.”

You expect him to let you go. Let you storm off and have your little fit while he goes back to camp and rounds everybody up. Expect him to go raid the back hallways of WCKD no matter how fucking stupid you know it is.

But, to your surprise, he doesn’t do any of that, instead striding after you as your arm is grabbed—yet again—until you’re forced around. 

“Don’t,” he’s quick to hiss, soft breath hitting the shell of your ear. 

You struggle, offering a bored look in return as you glance over your shoulder. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t do whatever it is you’re fucking planning.” He lets go, but steps to the side until you can see his face a bit clearer. “All right? I know you. So whatever it is you think you’re gonna do…don’t.”

His memory might not be his strong suit, but he is right about one thing. You do have a plan.

But you let him believe he’s won. At least for now. Because it’ll be much easier to ask his forgiveness than his permission.

“Fine,” you agree before returning to your stride. “I’ll stay right fucking here like a good little dog. Exactly the way you want.”

His eyes narrow at your obvious jab but you don’t mind. Because it worked. That is all he wants. For you to obey.

Although, he should know by now that it’s not about obeying. But about doing what’s right.

No matter the cost.

And he should also know exactly where you learned that from.

After all, nobody disobeys better than Thomas.

So that night, with Gally, Brenda, and Newt by your side, you proceed with Gally’s plan. The one Thomas was so sure wouldn’t work.

And in fact, it does work.

Gally, Brenda, and Newt sneak their way through the halls of WCKD dressed as Med Staff with you as their patient.

It’s an easy in. You make it to the main floor, slipping past the different security guards as you search the halls for Minho.

To your disappointment, you don’t find him, and time is running out. With a heavy heart, Newt declares you’ll all have to try again later.

With little to no hold-up, the four of you manage to make it back through the back alleys of the Last City and through the wall without suspicion.

It’s not until you finally arrive back on base that the real trouble begins.

The doctors, security, Ava, and Ratman? All easy.

But Thomas?

Possibly the only person you’re all actually terrified of.

He’s waiting with a scowl. Arms crossed and jaw clenched as you slip through the gate.

Frypan, Jorge, Aris, and about five others stand behind him. They seem curious to know what you’ve found, but before any of you get the chance to divulge the details, Thomas steps closer.

And your heart sinks.

“Where the fuck…have you been?”

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

evemore - T

evermore masterlist | closure | its time to go

Warnings: mentions of death, ptsd, mental health issues, kissing, blood, violence mentions

Summary: you loved the safe haven but you could never truly get over the events that allowed you to get here and the people you lost along the way.

Wordcount: 1.1k

It had been three months since you and Thomas had arrived at the safe haven. It was a cold gray November and you were used to the sunny landscape of the maze and this was different. The winds were blowing cold in yours and Thomas’ shared hut and you sat on the bed, blanket wrapped around your figure. 

You two had met after you had escaped from your maze, the two of you meeting at the facility before mourning through the scorch together. 

You don’t know how you would have survived without Thomas, if he hadn’t demanded that you didn't follow Janson then you would have been drained of blood and you wouldn’t be here right now. 

He had fallen for you first when you grabbed a bomb when WICKED infiltrated the rebel base. He had stood by your side then and he had stood by you ever since. 

You’d both been through hardships that no other 18 year old would have gone through, you’d lost countless friends, those you had considered as family. Every day you wondered what you could have done to save Chuck, or Teresa, or Newt. There must have been something you could do. You would replay your footsteps every time, trying to find out what went wrong. 

You both drove yourselves crazy with the what ifs, the only thing that grounded you was each other. So whenever you’d have a nightmare or he would, you would be there for each other. Unconditionally. 

You took a deep breath, staring at the poor excuse of a window in your hut - they were still working on manufacturing glass - as the wind swept through. 

As the cold drove itself into your bones, you wondered if maybe the cold feeling would kill you too. It was a constant fear, they'd already lost a few people to minor accidents: a bacterial infection, a broken leg, and drowning. It was always difficult to bury people, especially when their bodies don’t come back. 

Thomas walked in when you were drowning in your own thoughts, holding plywood to cover up the window to stop the draft. He placed it down and instantly sat down next to you, knowing that something was up. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, arm wrapped around you and when you didnt answer he sighed, already knowing the answer, “Just one of those days?”

You nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder, “Guess I just can’t remember what I’m fighting for sometimes,” you said, sniffling because of the cold. 

Thomas nodded his head. He knew how it felt to lose people as well and you two were going on this journey together. He had days where he was emotionally exhausted as well and you just had to be there for one another. 

You would constantly rewind the tape back to that moment where you ran into the courtyard in the last city, seeing Newt lying on the floor, blood in his mouth and a knife jabbed into his chest, his eyes open and at peace. 

You’d go back to that moment where time slowed as Rachel fell to the ground, gunshots echoing through the maze and the holes beginning to fill her body, her blood pouring out like a sif. She hadn’t even had time to comprehend it before WICKED were pulling her out, promising that they were ‘saving her’.

You’d go back to the moment where Teresa didn't make it. You wish you’d been there for her and Thomas but you were on that ship, pulling Thomas’ bloodied and bruised body into your arms. The sobs had escaped your mouth before you even realised and before you knew it the building was collapsing and Teresa fell with it. 

You’d go back to that moment when you were walking through the scorch and the gunshot echoed through the deserted land. You had turned back to see Winston's body falling in the distance, like he didn't even mean a thing. 

“Hey,” he said and his soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts that you were drowning in, “We’re fighting for us, for this life that the safe haven has promised,”

You sighed, your voice shaky, “But what about everyone else. They’re not coming back and they don’t get to experience this,” you explained, lifting your head off of his shoulder to look at him. 

He looked at you and sighed, reaching a hand forward and placing it on your cheek, watching as you leant into the warmth, “It’s never going to go away and we both know this, that gnawing feeling in your chest that makes you feel like you’re drowning,” Thomas explained, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, “But its going to be okay because I’ve got you,”

You couldn’t not think about the cost of it all but for now you just had to pause it and live in the moment. You knew you couldn’t spend the rest of your life dwelling on whether or not you can save them. You just had to let go eventually. 

“I guess so,” you said. 

Thomas nodded, “And the safe haven is better. Vince is going to look for more of the immune soon and we’ll have more people. And there’s already been so much progress, a marriage, two pregnancies. It’s going to get better,” he said. 

You knew that you could count on his reassuring words because even though you were struggling, he was too and you would always be there for him when he had days like this, days where he just wanted to lie in bed and hold you close. 

And whenever you were worried, you thought about him. About the way that he would savage you no matter what it meant and it was enough to get you through the days. It had gotten you through the scorch and then the rebellion and now your escape into the safe haven. 

“They’d be happy for us wouldn’t they,” you said. 

He chuckled lightly and smiled, “Yeah, and you know what baby, theyd want us to be happy,” he said and you nodded at his sentiment. 

Thomas stood up, reaching a hand out for you and you stood up, the floors of the the hut creaking out from under your step, “Just let me hold you,” he said and you smiled, allowing him to pull you in for a hug, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” you said, your words muffled against his chest. 

You sighed as you allowed yourself to melt into his warm embrace. You knew that the feeling was never going to go away but maybe, just maybe, the pain wouldn’t be for evermore because you had each other. 

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

could we get some gally headcannons please?👀

Whatever you want to write🩷

Thank you ❤️

gally in a relationship headcanons

masterlist

finally some gally love <3 idc what anyone says, his eyebrows are beautiful. NSFW BELOW.

the glade

enemies to lovers type shit. i'm talking y'all would go as far as avoiding meal times just to avoid seeing each other.

he'd always be staring at you—from across the glade, through the bonfire, literally all the time.

sooo many interactions would end with y'all being up in each other's faces and throwing petty insults.

you'd slap him if he says anything that borders on sexism. he eventually learns what's what.

'there's a thin line between love and hate'.

other gladers would get so annoyed by how much he talks about you. his favourite excuse: "she just pisses me off so much".

but there's no excuse for jerking off to the thought of you late at night.

honestly, he would probably realise he likes you when you scull his secret recipe drink in front of him.

he'd ignore his feelings until you're the only thing on his mind and it infuriates him so fucking much.

you would be arguing one time and then suddenly he kisses you. the kiss would be aggressive, heated, and most likely up against a tree or hut.

suprisingly, his confession after would be very vulnerable and tender.

everyone is confused the next day when you're practically glued to each other's sides

gally would be very protective and borderline possessive. he'd hate it whenever other guys stare or talk about you.

would probably end up in a fistfight over it.

he'd be a rough/passionate kisser.

he'd be very into thighs. his hands are big and calloused so he'd enjoy wrapping them around the plush of your thighs, kneading the soft warm skin in his hand.

despite his gruff and harsh demeanour, he would always hold/touch you with utmost delicateness, apart from heated moments.

guards you whenever you shower.

would break so many rules for you. reluctantly, of course.

y'all know the term 'sleeper build'? that's gally. he might not seem extremely muscly at first glance, but once he starts heavy-lifting and building, his arms are legit bulging.

your first time together wouldn't be too great, but once you practice more, it gets good. like, really good.

love love loves receiving but also thoroughly enjoys making you come and knowing only he can do it.

his favourite sex position would be holding you up against a wall. he likes feeling strong.

arguments would almost always end with him taking you into the forest and fucking you against a tree.

when he gets stung, he would probably fight through the changing to tell you he loves you one last time before getting speared. oop.

the last city

when y'all reunite, you'd both collapse to the floor in each other's arms kissing and crying which surprises you. the gally you knew was not a crier or favoured public affection.

gally changed a lot since you last saw him, emotionally and physically. he is taller, more muscular, and has a more level-headed and calmer attitude.

he'd be more emotionally available and willing to be open and vulnerable with you.

the first thing y'all do when you're alone is have sex. and he even fucks differently.

the better wording would be 'make love' instead of 'fuck'.

he is much more gentle and loving and focuses on your needs wayyy more than his own. he couldn't believe how aggressive he previously was with you, how selfish he was.

he would worship your body and show you how much you really mean to him.

you would make him leave his mask on one time while y'all fuck. its hot af.

would always be touching you—an arm wrapped around your waist, holding your hand, your thighs, etc.

the hugs, man. he'd literally pick you up and engulf you in his arms. all the time. this mf had a severe epiphany and realised his love language was touch.

would always be complimenting you. "you're beautiful, you know that?", "god, you're a fucking angel.", etc

wouldn't get mad if other guys talked to or stared at you anymore. he would probably joke about it with them instead.

well, maybe he would be a little aggressive.

"yeah, ha-ha, careful or i'll throw you to the cranks".

trusts you to be able to take care of yourself but is still a major worrier, especially during the war within the city.

after arriving at the safe haven, he would build a house for you. you would enjoy watching him because, well... muscles.

all in all, gally would be an extremely different man compared to the one you first met, making your love for him stronger than it had ever been.

[blackbirdi]

Tired

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

Point of View: 2nd Person

Word Count: 454

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, he was whipped.

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

[majesty31]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 | 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒂/𝒏: 𝑯𝒊𝒊, 𝒔𝒐 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒓𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅, 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒍, 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉, 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒃𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒓𝒔, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒈

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟑𝒌

The day you first entered the maze you knew something was off, not just the obvious fast that you were a girl in a glade full of boys but also your memories. You remembered. And not just the little bits and pieces the other boys did but you remembered faces, names, and the maze.

You didn't know the reason why you'd been sent to the maze, and you didn't remember who had sent you there but you remembered the maze and the glade, as if you'd been their before or seen it somewhere. You remembered the boys, you recognized their faces and that freaked you out more than you let yourself know. But there was one boy who you recognized more than the rest, you knew his name before he told you it and you knew he was a runner.

Minho.

You never shared this with any of the boys for you knew that they would most likely throw you in the maze to die. You feared everyone when you realized it, feared they would kill you, slice you in half and string you up for everyone to remember, so you stayed away from everyone and never talked. You felt something deep in your chest that made you feel as if you were different from them, as if you were sent here for different reasons. And it scared you.

All the boys were really nice to you, they all tired to get you come out of your shell, they would tell you it was okay to be scared but they didn't understand the reasons you were scared in the first place. You didn't fear the maze or the things that were inside, you feared them, and your secret.

And after two months of silence from you they all begun to wonder and worry. They made up their own conclusions as to why you never spoke and why you shut down whenever they came near. Some said you were just a scared little girl, others said you were mute and the rest said you were stupid. They were a wrong, they didn't know a thing about anything. About the maze, about the people who sent you all here. They were as clueless as a lamb for the slaughter.

But you hated it in there, you hated being trapped, you hated being the only one with memories and you hated that you didn't know why the hell they put you in there. Why they put all of them in there. No matter how hard you raked your brain you just couldn't think of one reason.

"Minho," You were surprised at the sound of your voice, it was a lot different than you had expected, and Minho who had turned around so fast that the water in his cup splashed all over your face must have thought the same thing.

That morning you had woken up and thought enough was enough, you were going to stop hiding around and wallowing in your own self pity and do something to get out. You were done with not talking, you were done with ignoring everyone and you were done with wondering how the hell to get out of here. It was time to go in there and see for yourself. And Minho was the one and only way to do that.

"Holy shuck," He whispered, stepping closer to your wet form, he didn't seem to notice how your face was dripping or it was just that he didn't care. His face was full of shock, or was it awe? You didn't know, all you did know was the way Minho was looking at you right now made your stomach turn in a way you've never felt before. "Say that again,"

"Do you not see my face?" You questioned, refuring to the water still dripping off. Then it seemed to click. His eyes widened and a small smirk made way on his face. One that you loved.

"Sorry," He said as he tired wiping it away with his sleeve, which only irritated you more. You pushed his arm away but he didn't even seem to care, for the look in his eyes never vanished. He seemed as if in a daze, or dream.

"Will you stop?" You questioned, shifting under his stare.

"Stop what?"

"That,"

"What?"

"Never mind its not important, what is important is why I came to talk to you," You said with a roll of your eyes, this only made the boy worse it seemed. You furrowed your brows but continued. "Uh anyways. I came here because I wanted to ask you about becoming a runner," It grew silent for what felt like forever, as if he was processing what you had just said.

"Are you joking?"

"Does it look like I joke?" He scanned your serious face for what also felt like forever.

"You? The girl whose never said a single word since she came from the box for who knows why wants to become a runner?" You nodded. And then he started laughing. You stared, watched and waited until he was done. Your jaw was clenched as were your fits. You did not find this funny.

"I'm serous. I think I can help,"

"I don't think so shebean," He patted the top of your head as if you were some child which only added to the irritation. You slapped his hand away before grabbing him by the coler of his shift and pulled his stunned face twards yours, your lips close, and your eyes never left his wide ones.

"Don't treat me like a child Minho. I know you must think the reason why I didn't talk was because I was scared but you sorely wrong. I know more than you think about the maze, I know I can help you, I can help us all get out. I know you haven't found a way out, I know you've searched the whole damn place and still nothing. You've lost hope and you think there is no way out, but I know there is and I can help you find it," He stood there shocked, his mouth opened but he didn't have a word to say.

"Okay," And thats how you became a runner. For the next week you trained and then finally you went into the maze. And it was like you expected, all familiar. You didn't feel scared as you ran next to Minho, and you realized how you already started turning before Minho had even told you were to go, as if you knew the way.

And Minho noticed this. He noticed it all. He saw the way you knew the maze as if it were written on the back of your hand, he saw the way you knew the order to which walls would open what days and it was starting to scare him. You knew far to much for someone who just started. But as much as it scared him he never said a word, he was going to at first but than something happened.

You happened.

He started to fall for you, and he hated himself for it. He was like every other shuck face in the stupid glade. But he didn't care, for when he was with you which seemed to be all the time, he felt as if he weren't in the glade, he felt as if they weren't trapped in a death prison with no escape. He felt alive, he felt sane and he felt a sense of normality.

And he just couldn't seem to get enough of you, you felt like a drug to him, and he caught himself thinking about you at the most random times, he would think about you in the dead of night, when everyone was asleep he was up, thinking about you. And he just couldn't keep you out of his head, no matter how hard he tried it just seemed impossible.

As for you, you felt a connection with the boy, one you've never felt, one you never thought could even be possible. He was like you other half, as if someone had ripped you apart and know you had found each other, making the other whole again. But you were still scared, each night you would have dreams, each reveling more and more of the past, and each one was filled with Minho.

You didn't know if they were just dreams or if they were memories, you hoped each morning they were just dreams for what you did to him was something you knew he would never forgive you for, something he would maybe even kill you for.

So you kept you mouth shut about them as-well.

And after three months another greenie had come up, one that you recognized in an instant, and before you even remembered his name you did. You had seen him in your dreams, but he was different, he was reblouse, and you knew he did something to get him put down here, but you just couldn't remember what it was. And it was driving you crazy. For you had little bits and pieces of it but not the full puzzle.

And too soon, much to soon the boy became a runner, a lot of things started going wrong the second he showed up, and everyone saw this. But no one said a word about it other than Gally of course. But the rest saw hope in him, a hope that maybe he was the key to getting out, so when Minho had declared him a runner everyone kept their mouths shut when you three entered the maze.

But that day, was a day you would never forget, a day you wished never happened, a day he wished never happened.

You were running a good distance behind Thomas and Minho, looking around the maze when you spotted it. It looked awful, worse than any nightmare, worse than any monster and you new that you wouldn't be able to get away from this thing. It was too close.

But you tired anyways, yelling out to the boys and running faster than you had before, the greavior right at your heels, screaming and snapping its jaw as if trying to catch you in its mouth.

When Minho saw you he knew, and it made his heart drop, it was too close, it was too fast, and you were already tired from the run. He could see you struggling to keep moving, he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the cold fear laced in your eyes, he wanted to run towards you and take your place but Thomas grabbed his shirt pulling him to run before him.

But Minho stopped running altogether the second he heard your screams, screams he knew he'd hear in his nightmares, screams that made his heart shatter into a million pieces. He turned around, his eyes going towards your screaming and bloody form that was laid on the cold stone floor. The greivor was on-top of you, its jaw inches from your crying face, the only thing that kept it away was the stick that was pressed agents it, one that you must have found near you.

He had never heard cries or screams like this and he hopped he would never hear them again. He tired running towards you but thomas held him back, yelling at him to keep going and how it was to late for you, but Minho was barely listening to him, his eyes were fixed on you. He felt his whole body shaking, he thought he might cry, yell something, anything. This couldn't be your ending. He didn't even get to say everything he wanted to. He never told you his feelings, or how much he thought about you, or how he craved to be kissed by you or even just hugged by you.

It all felt as if it were happening in slow motion, Thomas's yelling was background noise, as was you, all he could hear were the same thoughts in his head. You can't leave her. You can't leave her. You love her. You love her! They were yelling at him. His heart felt as if it would explode, he just wanted this nightmare to end. It had to end now!

You screamed louder, so loud that Minho was sure they heard you from all the way in the glade. You felt something stab your side and just like that you blacked out.

Minho and Thomas ran towards you the second the greavior ran off, leaving you there, bloody, crying and violent. You were stung. Dread filled both boys when they saw you, how you acted. They knew. And no matter what you were ruined.

They dragged your body back to the glade, all of the boys were already at the opening. They must have heard your screams.

~~~

You woke up with a gasp, sitting up with wide eyes as you looked around the room, trying to figure out where the hell you were. The room was dark, and empty except for a body that was slouched over on a chair. Minho.

You tired moving off the bed but this only woke him, cauing him to move towards you, worry written all over his face. You back away, tears coming to your eyes and your hands pushing at him. He was confused, and looked to be scared. You don't think you've ever seen him scared.

"Y/N wha-"

"Get away from me!" You yelled, falling off the bed completely when he tired to reach out to you again. You were quick to stand up but he was also quick to reach you.

"What the shuck is going o-"

"Stop Minho please don't come near-"

"Why not!? What did I do? What did you see?" Your hands were shaking, your face was wet and you were so scared. He could see it. And it only made him more and more worried.

"You," He blinked, confusion taking over all other emotion.

"What?"

"I saw." You paused, catching your breath and calming your nerves. "I saw you,"

"What did you see?" He asked again. Stepping a little closer. You looked at the ground, knowing if you told him you might lose him forever. You had grown to love him, and you were starting to wonder if maybe he felt the same.

"You will hate me Minho,"

"I couldn't ever hate you." You shock your head. He was right in front of you now. You could see his shoes and feel his warmed. He lifted your chin, his eyes connecting with yours. "It doesnt matter what you saw."

"Yes it does," You whispered, taking his hand away from your face. "Minho. I did this to you." His brows furrowed.

"Did what?" He already knew what you were talking about and he didn't know why he was even asking, but he wanted to hear it from you.

"I put you in here. The whole time you were here I was-I was watching from the other side. I saw everything that happened to you. I was in charge of you Minho," He blinked. And everything clicked. Why you knew so much about the maze. He didn't even know what to say, he didn't know how to react.

"What?" His voice was quiet, you've never heard him so quiet. He seemed confused, betrayed and hurt. He backed away from you causing your heart to drop to your stomach.

"I-I was your doctor, I did the tests. You were my test subject, you were the one I was responsible for..." You stopped, your voice breaking when you saw a tear slip from his eyes.

"You?" He was hurt, his heart was shattered. "You did this to me!" He yelled, making you flinch. He trusted you, more than he's ever trusted anyone else before, he fucking fell in love with you. And you were behind all of this! He couldn't believe his ears. He didn't want to believe it.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Sorry doesn't do shit! It doesn't make it all better! No matter what you fucking sa..." He paused, looking at the ground as you heard a sob. "You did this damage to me, to us. You traumatized us all and for what?"

"I-I don-" He moved so fast, so fast that you got wiplash. He pushed you agents the wall, taking both hands and pinning them to the wall.

"You what!?" He yelled. You let out a sob, shaking your head as you looked down. "Look at me!" You didn't do it, you couldn't look into his eyes without it ripping your soul into pieces. But he lifted your chin up, making you look into his eyes. "You what?"

"I don't know why, it hasn't all come back to me yet," he let go of you and took a step back, giving a small laugh as he shock his head.

"Isn't that fucking convenient," You were scared. He never acted this way. "You don't remember why. But it must have been pretty fucking important if it meant to traumatize and experiment on teenagers. Fucking children!"

"But that isn't me anymore!" You yelled back. "I don't know who that girl is anymore. I don..." You felt as if you were going to have a panic attack, you didn't know how to explain it to him, and you were so scared you had just lost him forever.

"Y/N?" His voice was like a background noise. You felt lightheaded and so warm. This wasn't good. You felt yourself waver and stumble. And soon he was right by your side, holding onto you so you wouldnt fall.

"Minho," You cried. "I know. I know you hate me right now," You felt as if you were going to black out at any moment now but you had to say this before. "But I would never do anything she did. I would never hurt you, and I'm so sorry I did," You were only being held up my Minho at this point. You couldn't see his face, you couldn't hear his voice. And then you blacked out.

[imjustagirlinthisworlddd]

Hello:))) been reading ur newt hcs and absolutely adored them YOU WRITE HIM SO SWEET. But i was wondering if you would do newt cuddling hcs with a f!reader please? (I haven’t requested for you before so if this isn't the type of thing you do just delete this lol)

thanks<3

hello anon!! i'm happy you like those!! i think that newt is the type of person that treats their s/o gentle !! i hope you like this:))))

Newt who can't keep his hands to himself when you're both cuddling. Newt who would pull you into his chest with your back against him so he can kiss your neck. Newt who would put his arm around your waist just to touch you. Newt who would be crazy and rambles whenever he sees you wear his shirts to cuddle or sleep (and when you ask him why, he says "you look hot- i mean beautiful, wait i didn't mean it like your not hot, cause you are hot, i mean- your hot- wait that's not the point- but you look bloody amazing with my shirt"). Newt who can't sleep without you in his arms. Newt who would be very clingy and glued to you when both of you are alone (he's starved for your attention and affection). Newt who doesn't have a 'favourite cuddle position' but he loves it so much when you rest your head on his chest and just lay there. Newt who runs his fingers through your hair and leave a bunch of kisses all over your face whenever he gets the chance. Newt who sometimes wander his hands underneath your shirt (with consent of course) and he just trace circles all over your skin. Newt who sometimes would just lay in your arms tiredly because he’s exhaused from doing all work, helping around the glade, and having many meetings with Alby and the runners(he's a busy man). Newt who would smell a little more earthy when you guys are cuddling before shower. Newt who prefers to cuddle after shower because he thinks you'll like him more if he smells 'sweet like a candy' when you're both cuddling (he used your soap and shampoo because he said it made him "smell like sweets and vanilla" lol ). Newt who would sleep with you with hardly any space between each other. Newt who loves it when you bury your face in his neck and when you play with his hair. Newt who will always pull you back onto the bed and back into his arms if you try to leave or stop cuddling. ("Newt we have to get up! Alby will be mad at us-" "2 more minutes, please love? i'm sure Alby will be fine without me" "Newt, you said that 20 minutes ago."). Newt who doesn't mind being a big spoon or the little spoon when you're both cuddling. Newt who likes it when his arms are securely around your waist & his face in your hair when he's being the big spoon. Newt's arms will be the place you wake up every morning. Newt who would ask if he can play with your hair every time you're both cuddling (he wants to make sure you're giving him consent even tho you've reassured him that he doesn't need to ask that). Newt who would randomly compliment you when your almost asleep ("your so beautiful. like really bloody beautiful, love"). Newt who would sometimes talk in his sleeps because he gets nightmares when he's cuddling you ("please stay, please. don't go. stay with me." "i'm not going anywhere love"). Newt who would easily get sleepy when you run your hands through his hair. Newt who would fall asleep on top of you, then wakes up only to ask if you're okay, if he made you uncomfortable, and why didn’t you wake him up in his raspy sleepy voice. Newt who would have a staring contest with you and then make stupid faces so you laugh and he wins the contest (later on he tease you about it). Newt who would stay up with you and just have deep conversations as you both cuddle when you can't sleep ("why do people has to lose the person they love first, to realize they're bloody value and worth? doesn't make sense, what do you think?").

I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY MAKING THIS, IT TURNED OUT SO LONGGGG. I'M SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG FOR YOU

[gladerscake]

Gally: And of course, Y/N was there, looking at everyone with her ridiculously big eyes.

Minho: Why is he talking about Y/N?

Newt: I don't know. I asked him about the new shack and somehow we ended up here.

[bee6r]

Rushed Reunion

⚠contains maze runner SPOILERS⚠

{Gally x !GN! Reader}

Summary: After reaching the last city, you reunite with Gally after thinking he was dead. (takes place in the Death Cure movie)

Warnings: Violence, cursing

WC: 1k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The streets are crowded as your group attempts to push their way through to the front of the barrier. You wonder silently why no one wants to cross it, given the lack of guards patrolling, but decide it is better to be safe than sorry.

People are screaming from all around you and the group, and it's all you can do, not to be separated from each other. Finally, you reach the street that winds down the middle of the square. Large black trucks pass, many of them carrying uniformed soldiers towards the border. You stare up at them, wonderingly and one catched your eye. You don't mean to exactly, but as the soldier keeps your gaze locked with his own, you let your eyes follow him down the road until the car turns and continues out of sight.

"Y/N," Newt calls from a few paces ahead, "we're going to try to make it to the front." You nod and follow him, along with the rest of the group.

It takes some pushing, shoving, and Thomas pulling you forward between two women who refuse to budge, but finally, you can rest your hands on the concrete fence. Thomas and Newt talk to each other in hurried whispers to your left, while you quickly survey your surroundings. Beyond the mass of people there is a strong iron wall, splitting only for seconds at a time as vehicles enter the city.

Resting on the tops of the walls are large weapons, all pointed away from the crowd, but you don't underestimate their power once activated. As if reading your mind, small red lights flicker on inside each of the machines and they spring to life, un-focusing on the entrances and instead setting their malicious sights on the front of the crowd. At once, everything goes silent, then, the first blast crashes to the ground on your right and screams erupt throughout the mob.

You're knocked out of your stupor as someone grabs your arm.

"Let's go!" a voice yells, and you can't tell if it's Thomas, Fry, or someone else. Instead of thinking, you run in the direction of the voice, trying to get away from the area of the blast but more attacks are already coming. The hit the ground behind you and it is all you can do to stay on your feet as the ground shifts. Suddenly, someone grabs you, but the idea that it may be someone from the Glade stops you from reacting immediately.

"Thomas?" You ask, but no one answers, and before you know it, you're being thrown into the back of a dark van. You scream, running towards the doors to escape, but you're knocked backwards as Jorge is thrown into the van as well. He doesn't hesitate to mimic your actions, throwing his weight against the door of the van right as it closes securely.

You sit back on your heels, trying to catch your breath, but Jorge continues to ram himself against the door as the van begins to move.

"Let me out you assholes!" He screams and you lunge forward grabbing his middle and pulling him back.

"Jorge! Stop, you're going to hurt yourself!" You try and scream over his consistent yells, but he continues trying to break down the doors, to no avail.

After about ten minutes of this, the vans stop, and Jorge backs up, readying himself for a fight, and as the doors open, he propels himself forward and out of the car and towards the soldiers.

You jump after him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he tries to run at the others.

"Where is she?" he yells, his voice booming in what you realize is a kind of highway overpass. "Where is Brenda? If you hurt her i'll-"

"Jorge I'm here, I'm right here," Brenda assures, stepping out of an identical van to your right. You release Jorge's middle as he crosses over to Brenda. You turn to the others, Thomas, Newt, and Fry, as they also step out of the van.

"Thanks for leaving me with him," you mutter as Newt walks over to pat your shoulder.

"Anytime," Newt smirks, and you smile. Thomas, however, is already striding over to the closest soldier, anger evident in his features.

"Where are we?" he asks, his voice and temper both rising, "where did you bring us?"

"We're here to help," another soldier calls, making his way over to your group, "no need to get angry." You recognize the voice but can't place it immediately. Apparently, Newt does as well, because he turns to you, a look of confusion crossing his face.

"Who are you?" Thomas asks, his voice still louder than anyone else's. The soldier sighs, and stops walking, only a few feet away. Then, his head turns towards you, and he takes off his helmet.

As soon as you see him, your arms are around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Gally's arms curl around your waist in return, and he snuggles his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent deeply.

"I-I thought you were-"

"I know," he whispers so that only you can hear him, "I know, and I'm sorry." Instead of responding, you pull him impossibly closer, never wanting to let go. When you finally pull away, he presses a quick kiss to your lips, and you smile.

"I missed you," you whisper, before turning back to the group. While the two of you reunited, the others had been talking. As you face Thomas, Newt and the others now, they turn to you, hope alite on their dirt-covered faced, and smiles starting to form.

"Okay," Thomas starts, "we have a plan."

PART 2 COMING SOON...

[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect quote

Thomas: Uh. I think I got your lunch. *Holds up a note that reads ‘I am very proud of you. Love, Newt’*

Y/n: Oh yea. I didn’t think this was for me. *Holds up note that reads ‘Be good. For the love of god, Please be good’*

[valentinetypewriter]

Ivy trio x Y/n incorrect quotes

thought I'd try branching out from only Marauders content so I hope you all like this

Masterlist

Newt: Y/n! What did I tell you about lying?

Y/n, looking down: ...That it only works on Thomas

—

Newt: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on Minho without him noticing?

Y/n: Hey, Minho, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny

Minho: *takes and swallows tracker* Pay up, loser

Newt: …

—

Y/n: Made you all playlists!

Y/n: Thomas, yours has only heavy metal, and is dark like your soul

Y/n: Newt, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression

Y/n: And Minho has the ABBA Gold album

—

Newt: Christmas is cancelled

Thomas: You can't cancel a holiday

Newt: Keep it up, Tommy, and you'll lose New Year's too

Thomas: What does that mean?

Newt: Y/n, take New Year's away from Thomas

—

Minho: Newt, you'll be working with Thomas and Y/n

Newt: Alright! My fantasy threesome!

Everyone else: *blank stares*

Newt: ...Of people on a team

—

Newt: I’m so happy two of my favourite people are getting along now

Minho: Uh, Y/n and Thomas are not getting along

Newt: They’re not trying to kill each other

Minho: You may have a point

—

Thomas: ARE YOU-

Y/n: Fucking

Thomas: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

Y/n Fucking

Thomas: IDIOT!

Minho: …What was that?

Y/n: Newt banned Thomas from swearing, so I’m helping him out

—

Minho: I think we're missing something

Newt: Teamwork?

Y/n: Cohesion?

Thomas: A general sense of what we’re doing?

[tbsangstersgf]

maze runner boys headcanons

little things they would do if they were dating you

Newt

•loves to kiss right at the base of your jawline

•will come up behind you and do this

•loves putting his arm around you

•always giving you hugs

•calls you “love” and “sweetheart” (maybe darling)

Thomas

•constantly kissing your hands

•showers you with compliments

•forces you to be big spoon

•constantly holding your hand or touching you in someway

•calls you “baby” or “angel”

•leans his head on your shoulder any chance he gets

•likes to lay in your lap

Minho

•constantly flirting and trying to get you to blush

•loves to kiss your neck and cannot get enough of your lips

•calls you something like “princess” and “sugar”

•will occasionally let you style his hair if you’re lucky

•loves it when you wait by the gate for him to come back home

•makes you fall asleep on top of him very often

•always wants to make you laugh

Gally

•compares hand sizes a lot

•very needy and kinda clingy (in a cute way)

•loves kissing your collarbone and forehead

• likes it a lot when you sit in his lap(I can’t explain it, it just makes sense)

•calls you “short stuff” and “babe”

reminder:these are my personal opinion

requests open

[wheelsvoid]

WE FOUND YOU ; THE MAZE RUNNER

⇢ you have been stuck at WCKD for months, when the gladers finally find you

masterlist

genre: platonic, angst

word count: 888 words

warnings: mentions of torture, kidnapping, weapons and violence

The last time I could remember seeing the boys, they were all screaming in terror. You’d think they were on the brink of death, and maybe they were, but it was the sight of me being dragged away that was the source of their pure fear.

It made me feel guilty to think of that.

WCKD had stolen me from the only people I could call family, and after months of torture and testing, I was getting tired. Some nights, I couldn’t even remember my own name.

I was the most scared when I started to forget their names, too. Minho, Thomas, Newt, Frypan… every person I could ever call a friend, I tried to keep track of every night. The only thing I had to remember them by were memories, but I didn’t trust my own mind to keep those.

I sat alone in my room. A sterile smell was in the air, and the blank walls and cold bed were in the back of my mind, but I ignored it. I continued to repeat the names of my friends. My brothers.

Minho, Thomas, Newt—

The door creaked open loudly, cutting off my train of thought. I slowly turned my head, my neck had a dull ache from lack of movement—a result from the hours of staring up at the top, empty bunk.

A woman stood there, with a man close by. I didn’t know either of them. I couldn’t remember if we had met before, and I didn’t care.

My eyes glanced down at the gun the man held tightly in his grip, before I met his eyes. His stern ones stared into my hazy ones. “Get up.” He said. Before I could even move, he shouted the command again. “I said, get up!”

My legs ached much like my neck did as I stood on them, but I didn’t make any move to disobey the man. I had to be smart about it. He had the gun, and I had nothing.

I let him lead me down several hallways that I had grown uncomfortably familiar with. The woman, who was a doctor with a clipboard in hand, was leading the way, completely unbothered with the violence.

It was routine at this point. Every day I was dragged out of my room to be tested on—to find out what made my brain different. The results were usually the same, but they were beginning to see improvement. It felt like I was the only one who saw that I would never be good enough to be the cure.

Typically, the hallways were buzzing with the sounds of technology, footsteps and soft voices. Something was different today.

The sound was quiet at first—distant—but growing louder. Stomping footsteps grew closer, gunshots rang though the hallways, and three familiar voices caught my attention.

My eyes grew impossibly wide, and I held onto the almost faded memory of their faces. I knew them.

With the man’s surprise, he wasn’t ready for me to snap out of my daze, whip around and punch him in the face, but I did it so quickly that he was out in seconds.

I was quick to pick up his gun, rushing away to follow the voices, while being mindful for other guards and flying bullets.

“Come on, this way!” I heard a voice echo down the hallway to my left. I snapped my head in that direction, and my heart stopped. I held my breath.

Three boys had stopped on the other end, focused on hiding from the gunfire. They had yet to see me, but then the blond shot the final bullet, and the gunfire stopped.

They let out heavy breaths, slowly backing away before turning to face me. Once they saw me, standing there with my jaw dropped like an idiot, and my appearance a complete mess, they froze.

The four of us looked at each other, and slowly, each of us began to grin.

“Y/N!” Thomas’ voice was shaky as he began to sprint in my direction, the other two following quickly behind. I ran as well as I could, my legs being somewhat shaky, but I didn’t fall or trip. I was determined to stay standing like I had all these months trapped within the walls of WCKD.

Thomas reached me first, pulling me into a desperate hug. Minho was next, and finally, Newt. The four of us stood there, trying to stretch out the moment.

I don’t think any of us thought I would ever be saved, so we were holding onto the fact that this was real and we were together.

“We’ve got you.” Minho said. At first, I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not. WCKD had shown me a lot of things to get my mind going. Nightmares, illusions. But this… felt so real. I felt a tear slip from my eye, landing on Newt’s shoulder.

We pulled away, and I looked at each of them closely, noting the relieved smiles on their faces. “I missed you so much.” My voice cracked. I couldn’t help it. I’d been through hell.

The boys smiled at me. Thomas’ lips pulled down like he was trying not to cry. Newt held a firm hand on my arm. Minho had his arm wrapped around my shoulder.

“We missed you, too.”

[yourloverfromthepast]

Y/N: I don't trust Teresa.

Minho: Why? She seems fine to me

Y/N: Something's off about her behavior...

Newt: You're right, I have a bad feeling about her

Thomas: What? No! Newt! What the fuck is wrong with you guys? *Scoffs* I- ugh, admit it y/n, you're just jealous. I- I can't believe this! Wow!

*Teresa betrays the entire team*

Y/N: *Click their tongue and inhale sharply* SOOOOOOO, THOMAS-

Thomas: Don't. Just- don't. Please.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

I liked your gally headcannon <3

could i request some headcannons for a reader he meets after the glade like they work for Lawrence and stuff? Thank uu

meeting gally in the last city would include

masterlist

ahhh thank you so much! ofc, i love making relationship headcanons <3 reader is a little softie. i'm sorry!! i love writing soft readers too much. suggestive themes.

before relationship

you two first met in an altercation with lawrence's men upon entering the last city's outskirts. he had suggested taking you back to lawrence to join his cause.

it took a while for him to talk to you. he didn't want to leave a bad impression, especially given his track record.

plus, he thought you were really pretty which to him, was intimidating.

he was surprised by how kindly you treated him and how warm the smiles you gave were. such pure-heartedness was a rarity in this world.

you started spending a lot of time together. he would train you in combat; you'd take watch together, and even sometimes talk on the roof at night.

people would definitely notice the connection.

the other men would blatantly tease him about liking you in front of you.

his attraction to you would reach its peak whenever you used a gun. something about a gun and girl really got him going.

there would be moments where you two flirted and then became all flustered when you realised what you were doing.

he would start distancing himself.

he'd never feel worthy of having you in his life. his past would always haunt him.

one night, he caved and told you everything he had done.

you kissed him for the first time and told him he was the strongest person you had ever met.

that was when he knew he had fallen in love with you.

during relationship

pet names would include baby, angel, beautiful, and short-stuff.

his sense of humour used to be self-deprecating, but your constant reassurance and loving words changed that.

now he'd do anything, say anything, to make you laugh or smile. he loved your smile. your laugh even more so.

he would be extremely protective over you. your gentle nature would make you more vulnerable, something he felt he needed to protect.

especially during missions and supply runs.

"don't leave my side, alright?"

"please be careful."

"i don't want you in any danger. i cant lose you too."

you'd always protect each other in combat, even though he's like, way taller than you.

sometimes he needed a little protection though, given the fact that he only had one good lung which affected his fighting capabilities.

sometimes you would sit on his lap during car rides with his arms wrapped around you as your seatbelt.

he wouldn't care about anyone watching. he liked having everyone know you chose him of all people.

he'd tease you about your height all the time. expect a joke at least once a day.

would love hugging you from behind, just enveloping your body with his.

kisses would be so tender. he'd bend down and cup your jaw so delicately while pulling you in by the waist.

forehead kisses, temple kisses, basically just kisses all around. not much in public though, that was something he liked keeping private.

when the relationship progressed, he'd still hold out on you. but gentle wasn't all that you were.

"touch me, gally".

and he would. he would brush his fingers along your jaw, up and down your arms, and hold the side of your neck as he kissed you.

"no," you'd whispered. "gally... be rough with me"

at first, he would be hesitant. but once he saw your insistence, he'd pick you up and plant you on a table, allowing his old rougher self to take over as he kissed you, touched you, and well...

that would be how you first sleep together.

he could lift you up like you weigh absolutely nothing. you're basically like a rag-doll to him. in an innocent way. most of the time ;)

his hands are so big that they completely cover the sides of your head.

you would wear his hoodies and sweatshirts to bed. he'd love how big they were on you.

people would hold parties in the ruins of old buildings. there'd be music, bonfires, and alcohol.

gally wouldn't be able to help himself. you'd just look so beautiful in the firelight, he'd bring you somewhere secluded and take you against a wall.

these were the only times he was harsh with you and you loved it—the contrast between having someone who was lovingly gentle and sinfully rough was exhilarating.

when thomas and the others came to the last city, they were genuinely shocked by how he managed to score you.

thomas especially.

"you know about the things he's done, right?"

you instantly come to his defence.

"i know. i also know that people can change. he's not the same person you knew. he's brave and strong and the most caring man i've ever met."

gally's a bit of a snoop, so of course he 'accidentally' eavesdropped on your conversation.

"did you really mean all that? what you said to thomas."

"of course i did. i love you, you big idiot."

"i love you too... little idiot."

damn this was kinda long. my bad.

[mae-gi-writes]

Arch-nemesis . Gally (themazerunner)

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

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

You hate him with all your heart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is my business if you’re gonna—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nobody asked for your opinion, ugly brows.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Flare.

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

And then, she pounces.

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

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

You stare at her for a minute. One more.

Your gaze slowly trails up to see familiar booted feet.

“What were you even thinking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well I said I’m sorry!”

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

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

“Yeah and look how that ended!”

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

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

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

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

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

Wow.

Is this what a kiss is?

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

It's almost like time has stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It makes you want him.

You want him.

Shuck’s sake.

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

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

You don’t want to talk about it.

————

It’s been days.

Days since the incident.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve got a point I suppose.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not until you agree.”

Your glare deepens, “I said no.”

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

“Get your hands off her.”

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

Gally.

Oh.

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

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

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

“I said: Now.”

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Y/N--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you can’t.

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

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

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

“Answer my question, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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