unkindnessesofone

[unkindnessesofone]

Far As Forever pt 2 is coming.

[unkindnessesofone]

Cactus in the Valley [Part 1] [Gally x Reader]

Word Count: 4.5k. Notes: I can tag if someone was interested in that.

Summary: Gally isn't interested in sharing you especially not with those he doesn't trust.

You couldn't remember the last time you had gone into the city. It had been dangerous for a mother hiding her child to stay there, sometimes more so than living amongst poverty and chaos on the other side of the wall. Lawrence appreciated that you had survival skills from a high-stress upbringing and immunity which meant that he granted you his army's protection so that in return you cared for them whether that was doing their washing, cooking their meals, sewing bandages, stitching clothes, or whatever else they might request. You had never before been told to join any of the rebels on a recon mission on the other side of the wall.

Gally said to stay close, but act normal - like you were supposed to be there. To help conceal your identity, you had on a paper medical mask while Gally wore his nearly permanent scowl as armor. 

In awe of the cleanliness, thriving trees, and functioning infrastructure, you stared with widening eyes behaving like lenses as your head darted around in an attempt to mentally store everything in front of you. Without the intended subtlety, Gally knocked his shoulder against yours to pull you from your trance. 

“You got to look like you live here.” He hissed while watching the crosswalk. “Nobody who lives here is staring at what they got in awe.”

Gally was right and it fixed a scowl that matched his under your mask. These people had clean air, freedom, and sovereignty and they didn't even stop to breathe it in. You would have seethed with anger had the light not changed and Gally bent his head to the side, silently instructing you to follow along. 

Oftentimes, at night, when everyone was pretending to relax, Gally would wait for you to finish cleaning up and walk you “home”. Since you had single-handedly kept his spear wound clean from infection, there had been plenty of alone time to pull each other out of your respective shells. Granted, his seemed to have been made from steel while yours was a thick canvas. Usually, he would walk back alone to where he stayed, but after a couple close violent calls and one time where he accidentally just fell asleep, he became a common fixture in your secret world. He would tell you about Chuck while trying to keep tears from his eyes. You would tell him about your mother and how she worked tirelessly to keep you both together even joining a brothel in order to hide you there as a child (and make a living). If he saw the unwarranted shame in your eyes, Gally never said so. He asked you about living in the streets and you, in return, asked about the Glade. He was the closest thing you had to a real friend. 

“Hey, I wanted to show you this.” Gally moved toward a newsstand where a man with hair only his face and none on his head sold coffee, candy, and other goods. You were distracted by beautiful women on the covers of magazines and didn't see Gally pull a crumpled bill from his pants. Maybe, he had pickpocketed in the crowd or Lawrence gave it to him. It felt impolite to ask. Grumbling, he argued back and forth with the vendor before giving him the money and then taking a green fruit in return. 

“Here.” He handed it to you. A pear. With one finger, you removed the mask from your right ear and took a bite as you two walked. “It's the freshest thing I've ever tried. I wanted to take you there.” He said like it wasn't kind or sweet, which it was, but instead like it was something someone would rattle off when they shake a rock from their shoe.

The juice brought your mouth to life as soon as you took a bite. A little liquid nearly escaped the corner of your lips, but you sucked it back in. If you looked like a deer in the headlights at the sight of the city, you were sure you looked obscene now. 

“Right?” Gally laughed as he looked behind himself at you. 

“Here you have some.” You held it up to him, but he shook his head. He had only had enough for one and he wanted you to experience it. 

“This is WCKD.” Gally stopped abruptly, holding out his arm so that you wouldn't move any further either. For safety, he kept a road between you both and the building. “We can't exactly just walk in, but I've been keeping track of how many guards are at the front at what times and how many are patrolling the grounds. It's been changing lately” 

Pear to your lips, you counted six, but that was just at the front entrance. Maybe, some in civilian clothes were also security. Gally put a hand on your back, flat and large, but just as you looked at him, he took it back. 

“I'm going to do a walk around. Stay here. Don't talk to anyone. Try to keep track of what guards change and what direction they go.” He didn't jog off completely until you nodded that you understood. They were simple instructions. 

As you ate, you walked a few steps backwards to a bench where you could stare at WCKD without seeming obviously malintentioned. In order to use it as a napkin for your sticky fingers, you removed the mask from your ear, but never took your studious stare from the building. 

“You're making that pear look very good.” A voice, confident and sophisticated, broke through the serenity and you slowly turned your head like a prey might check on how close a jackal was. He was slim, shorter than Gally, but not small, and wore an eerie smile that seemed to radiate through his eyes and suggest that he had never been wrong once in his life.

“It is really good.” Gally had said not to talk to anyone, but he did also mention to act like you belonged. 

“May I?” He reached out his hand and you two silently engaged in a conversation you didn't understand with just your eyes. Eventually, you gave him the pear and watched as he took a large indulgent bite, returning it to you with barely any flesh left juice running down his chin and hitting the pavement between his leather shoes. “Thank you.” Once he had swallowed, he sat beside you and followed your gaze at the building. “See anything interesting?”

This felt dangerous so you didn't speak. You just shook your head so softly that it could have been missed if he wasn't keeping watch through his peripheral. 

“Don't you have somewhere better to be on a Saturday morning?” The man was researching you in the same manner you had been researching WCKD headquarters except there was no road to keep you safe. All he had to do was lift his hand from his pants leg and he could do anything he wanted to you. 

“No.” The uneasy feeling that came on when you first heard the man’s voice had not subsided in the slightest and yet you told him the truth. This was the best place for you to be right now. This helped your cause. Of course, he didn’t need to know that. 

“Sounds like you could use a hobby.” He mused, a cruelty wet in his throat even though he accessorized it with an expensive smile. “Or a job then.  Do you live around here?”

You had no idea where Gally went. He knew how to be sneaky and go unseen in the city whereas you, evidently, stuck out like a sore thumb. This was a mistake, you thought to yourself, I want to go home. 

The man was peering down at you, salt and pepper hair barely moving with the small breeze that blew your hair directly in your face, “Off Third Street.” You made up on the spot. On the way over to the building, you saw a fourth street which led you to believe there had to be a third. 

He was wordless and you internally panicked that your lie hadn’t made sense. Maybe, the city only used even numbers or third street was a block without any residences. Suddenly, you wished he would say something. Gally had told you to keep track of the guards so you focused on the doors of the building, watching as one masked man brought a walkie talkie to his mouth and then patted the guard to his left, subsequently releasing him. 

“I'm Janson. I work there.” His hand came in front of your face, waiting for you to shake it as he nodded toward WCKD. Eyes wide, you devoured him with a blank stare purposefully draining it from the stress that was making your heart race. Janson took the hand and put his hand down and began to stand. He looked over to his place of work and then back to you.  “This is where you tell me your name.”

You tried to think of what Gally would do in this situation, but you knew that Gally would never put himself in this situation. You went through a list of names, thinking of your mother, and then decided to tell him your nickname. 

“______” Janson repeated it as if he was considering its taste. He must have seen your attention go past him, a little to the left. Gally appeared with a confused expression directed at you. It was practically shrieking. 

“Do you know him?” Janson asked. He wasn’t listening, he was studying.

“No.” Shaking your head, you finally gave him a quick response.  “I don't know anyone around here. What about a job? You were saying I need a job.” It felt prudent to make it so Gally could go undetected again. He was loitering, trying to read you, but you swatted your hand in the air as if there was a fly only you could see in front of your nose. It was supposed to be a signal to scram and, thankfully, Gally understood.

“A pretty girl like you is vulnerable. You should find something to occupy your time.” Janson advised and finally started to move away, over to the crosswalk that would lead him to his evil business. You imagined him laughing manically inside and making potions and robots that could rule the world. Of course, he could have just been some marketing employee trying to make a living. “There’s a beauty school on Milton.” He patronized. “Can you answer a phone and make coffee?” He pulled out his phone and checked the screen, thinking aloud passively. “They need a front receptionist downstairs. I don’t know what happened to the last one. It doesn’t require much.” 

Behind you, Gally was waiting with his back against a cement column and his head on a swivel. On the bench, you watched guards become more alert and adjust their stance to have their long legs further apart by an inch more or so. Janson had just presented you with an opportunity. The Red Army had been trying to figure out how to enter WCKD for ages and all you had done was let a man eat your beloved pear. Through the large glass windows of the reception area of WCKED. Three impeccably dressed women were behind a long desk and glossy red and pink smiles, answering phones and glowing angelically under crystal ceiling light. You hadn’t let yourself imagine a dress as bright as the girl on the end had on, a vibrant yellow that rivalled the sun for its allure. 

Janson turned around and whistled for your attention, yanking you out of your dangerous daydream. 

“Are you going to come? Opportunities don’t just fall out of the sky!”

Thinking fast on what you should do, you stood to your feet and wiped at the front of your pants. 

“I am not really dressed for a job interview.” Something was pulling you back. 

“All the more reason to take it!” He eyes the tight maroon top you were wearing, signs of its age around the neckline. 

You were starting to walk away from the bench, sneak away with Gally, and then swear off ever coming along on a recon mission or anything that would bring you into the mouth of the city ever again. The lights changed and Janson began to slowly walk toward WCKD and, surprising both you and Gally, you followed. 

Janson grinned like the Cheshire Cat as he heard your feet behind him. A guard opened the door for him and you knew immediately he was important. He called for Ida, one of the women at the desk, and said you were there for an interview, that he had recruited you himself before walking directly into an elevator.

* * *

Retracing your steps from when you snuck into the city with Gally took longer than you had expected. The young member of the rebellion was right, the exterior beauty of Last City was distracting you. It meant turning too soon and being there after curfew. Members of the army considered you to be clever, not a bruiser or injured. You were a survivor. You were embarrassed that tall buildings and fresh fruit had impressed you with ease. 

Up the ladder that was slick as the tunnel was dark, the sound of the curfew bell from miles ago still had your nerves shot. A few knocks on the lid that concealed your return home was all it took for it to be opened. There was no time to adjust to the new light, two hands reached in and pulled you out by the upper arms. 

It was Gally, equal parts furious and relieved. His boots scuffed against the ground as he pulled you in a hug that surprised everyone around including himself.

“What happened? I told you not to talk to anyone.” His tone was livid, but both his hands were frisking down your arms and then around your waist, checking for signs that you were unharmed. 

“I know.”

“I waited for as long as I could - I should have - “ Gally tried to explain himself. Lawrence had said for Gally to be back before sundown, likely a rule due to bringing someone as inexperienced as you or a punishment because he was reckless a trip before - finding a place to lay back and admire the city lights. Gally hadn’t wanted to leave you, but he also couldn't lose the community and purpose he found with the rebellion. 

“I'm really sorry.” Genuinely, you swore and watched Gally deflate, shoulder slumped and finally allowing himself to exhale. You were safe in front of him. 

“I'm glad you're alright.” He swallowed around the tightness in his throat and told you calmly before leading you away. “Lawrence wants to talk to you. He's not happy.” Gally warned and took you to the leader of the rebellion, bending down under a curtain of throw blankets. He caught the attention of Lawrence and stepped to the side to reveal you were back before Lawrence dismissed him with a Grandpa smile and confident wave of his hand. 

Gally only went out of sight, knowing what half wall to stand behind to listen. He was loyal to Lawrence, but the man was half crank. He could be unpredictable and without sense from time to time. Besides, terrifying ideas of what could happen to you between the walls of WCKD or just lost in the city hadn’t yet stopped in Gally's mind. He had to keep telling his brain to shut up as the same two thoughts teasing him: “Anyone else would have kissed her by now.” and “What if I lose her, too?” No, Gally was not ready to lose you again even if just for fifteen minutes. 

Lawrence began cordially, pouring himself something to drink and paying most of his attention to the silver cup, “What did you think of the city?”

“Excess everywhere. Like you have always said.” You were inclined to tell him what you thought he would want to hear. Lawrence would likely not warm to you if you told him that you sniffed a bouquet of roses that smelled so sweet it made your molars hurt. He likely wouldn't be amused by how fresh you found the fruit to be. “It was upsetting.” A whole city of people who could make life easier, better for everyone else and simply chose not to.

“And yet you barely returned to us, huh?” He mused before taking a long sip, sighing once the sting of the liquid hit. Your mouth was open, but words hadn't even come to your throat. Thankfully, Lawrence's question was rhetorical. “Poor Gally, first time he gets to take a girl out and she ditches him for WCKD.” He laughed, actually amused, but his eyes pinned you to the wall like a memo too important to lose. 

Behind the wall, arms pressed to the warm and chipped concrete, Gally rolled his eyes. Today hadn't gone exactly how he hoped. He hadn't had the chance to tell you that you meant a lot to him and that he wanted to stay at your “place” every night. He had assumed you two would do some recon, take today's count of exterior guards, and then run around the city together. He would take you to his favorite vantage points with stunning views of greenery and even through Albright Parc where he would pluck a pale yellow primrose for you out of the garden to take back and dry the petals in your journal for a memory. Instead, you went into WCKD with a guy who set off a hundred alarm bells in Gally's head. 

“I was invited to go into WCKD by Janson,” That had both Lawrence and Gally's attention, plus the other member of the army loitering around. “He is pretty high up there. Works closely with Ava Page.” Ida at the front desk had told you that while explaining that Janson likely saw you as attractive and vulnerable. It was why he brought you in. 

“We've been trying to sneak into that place for years and you walk through the front door, invited by the second in command.” He was giddy, snickering to himself while fiddling his fingers anxiously in front of his decaying face. “What did you two talk about?” After another sip, Lawrence put down his cup and then eagerly leaned forward to hear more. His plan to ream you out had vanished from what was left of his mind. 

“He just dropped me off at reception. He said there is a vacancy at the desk.’

“And you're going to fill it.” It was an order. His tone didn't change, but Lawrence stood up straighter and sounded so quiet, but confident. 

Charging out from behind the wall, Gally was talking long before you nor Lawrence spotted him. He had one hand flexed into a fist, fury holding his face hostage.

“Over my dead body!” Lawrence gave Gally a second chance at life. He respected him and was loyal, but having a punctured lung hadn't altered anything about Gally besides his ability to breathe easy. He was not going to stay quiet when he felt passionately about something. “Janson has tpo much power. That's a suicide mission.” 

“Stand down, Gally.” Gently, Lawrence warned the young soldier. 

“I saw him talking to her. It was predatory. For all we know, he knows she's affiliated with us. He could be luring you to him. I don't like any of them, but they aren't stupid!” 

“Gally-” 

“Ida said the job is mine if I want it because what Janson says goes. It's just Mondays and Fridays that they need coverage. I wouldn't have access to much more than the mail room and the coffee machine.” You would still be free to work bloodstains and sweatmarks from their clothes. Your focus left Lawrence just to check on Gally, his chest rising and falling like a rollercoaster cart. His eyes glaring a hole at the table in front of his leader as he tried to listen to you over the tantrum in his head. 

“It's an in.” Lawrence explained to his team including Gally. 

“It's real risky.” Gally continued, unmoved.”. 

“She said I have to dress appropriately and I don't have anything.” Arms out and shoulders to your ears, you shrugged. This was your best shirt. 

“Well, there you go, too bad. We'll have to keep memorizing the guard schedule.” Gally summed up for everyone.

A heavy silence slipped into the room like a ghost, a prelude to news that would change everything. Lawrence embraced it, striding around the table and picking up his cup again. He walked right by Gally without so much as a glance and over to you. 

“I'm very proud of you, ________. This won't be easy. You're going to have to be careful and report back to me after every shift.” He was sizing you up, seemingly trying to figure out how to best use you in order to own the upperhand. “If Janson wants you to bring him a coffee, memorize his office, which direction his window faces. If there is an after work party, you attend.” 

“Yes, sir.” You agreed, Gally's breathing starting to sound as if he was attempting to breathe fire. “I'll need papers, documents that make it seem like I'm a citizen of their utopia.”

“You leave that  to me.” From one of the holes in his nose, a whistle came out of Lawrence as he sharply inhaled. He couldn't believe he had never considered this idea before. “Gally, boy, if you're so concerned about it, you escort her there every Monday and Friday and bring her home.” Lawrence raised his hand to summon Gally's attention (though he instantly had everyone's). “Tomorrow, take her to the brothel. They'll have some clothes she can use.” Lawrence was finished, but he pat your cheek with his palm and whispered, again, that he was so proud of you. 

Behind him, their steps loud and not all uniform, two rebels followed and it was just you and Gally in the open space, but all you felt was his stress. It seemed like disappointment and you supposed that you deserved it. 

“You should have lied.” Gally yelled, turning away from you and busying his hands touching blanket walls as he passed them. “You should have told him nothing happened. Did something happen? Did that creep touch you?” Gally shook out his arms at the thought. 

“No. I didn't even see Jansen after he left me at reception. He went to the 21st floor.” Information they hadn't had before, but you saw him press the elevator button. “And if you didn't want Lawrence to know, why did you tell him I went in?” 

“I said someone at WCKD took you inside. He needed to know that much. What if they interrogated you and…?” Gally was talking so quickly that he didn't stop himself in time. His tongue got carried away. 

“And I compromised the cause? Gee, thanks.” 

He dragged the toe of his boot in front of him in a line, dust kicking up and glowing under the dim lamp light. 

“Gally, what did Lawrence mean when he said taking a girl out…”

Gally's embarrassment felt large enough for him to climb inside of and hide, but he knew he couldn't do that forever. You healed people, you cared too much to let anything go. It was through being so diligent about his stab wound that you two became as close as you were. He couldn't keep how he was feeling away from you for long, especially not when he was starting to feel helpless to them - something he loathed.

“Is that why he let me come with you today?”

“He said he noticed that we…” Why was this so hard to talk about? Five different shades of red met in the center of Gally's face. “He said that we wouldn't have a lot of chances to have, like, a normal…nice…” He sucked at this and wished so badly that someone else would charge in and end the conversation. “I wanted to take you to this park. I wanted to  show you…” Putting him out of his misery, you came up right behind him and clasped one of your hands on each of his. 

“I'm sorry I didn't get to go there with you.” Against his back, you pressed your cheek in as he lifted your hands up and hugged himself. “Sometimes, when I'm kind of starting to fall asleep, you hold my hand.” His desire to duck into a black hole and never return. He thought he had been sneaky. “I really like it.” You admitted and Gally poked his head out of his pretend shell. Letting go of your hands, he finally turned around to face you. “The pear was great, but it was perfect because you gave it to me.” 

His brooding and tough skin shed and he let you see his tissue soft heart on the outside for a second as a sheepish smile accepted the compliment. 

“I'm scared about going to WCKD, but it's not so bad knowing I'm going to come home to you -”

“With me.” He corrected, three of his fingers dipping into one of your pants pockets and urging you closer. 

“Yes, with you. This could be really good.”

He didn't know if you were referring to you infiltrating WCKD or being with him, but he didn't clarify either. He just adored you in the shadows, finally calming down from an exhausting day. 

As soon as you stepped foot out of Lawrence's den, sometimes called his “war room”, Gally halted. He tugged you back by the hand. He wanted to go back to your place. He wanted to rest. He wanted to have you right by his side. 

“Can I kiss you?” He interrupted the stillness and let you into his brain. Today, he had been nervous about having you and all night, he had been scared to lose you. As soon as you said ‘yes’, Gally leaned down and hoped for the best. He pushed his mouth against yours, making a guess at how to kiss. He had seen a perfume ad on one of the screens in the main square or the Last City and he tried to copy the male model in it, snaking a hand up your neck to your jaw until his fingertips met your ear. Your chest was leaning into his which he took as a good sign and you reached up to move his head, adjusting him slightly which he welcomed.

“That okay?” Gally checked. He wanted to know more than he wanted you to see him as macho.

“You're even better than the pear. And I really liked the pear.” You promised and walked hand in hand with him back to where you lived. Neither of you knew what was coming, but the feeling of unavoidable change was hard to ignore.

[unkindnessesofone]

New story coming tonight. Then some part 2s. Maybe a prolouge.

[unkindnessesofone]

Jettison Level [Gally x Reader]

Pairing: Gally x Reader. Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: I think there should be a Part 2 for this.

This had to be important. Tomorrow a new Glader would arrive, which you hoped would be another girl, so it was important that you were helping Frypan prepare for something that could be considered a ‘feast’ in the Glade. Alby knew that and still insisted you two had to talk now. As you wiped your hands on the front of your grey henley, you looked over to your right and saw Gally staring back, an axe hanging at his side, and his other hand on his hip as he tried to suss out the situation from where he was chopping wood. There was too much space between you both right now for you to say anything, so you just shrugged and caught up with Alby as he walked away from the Homestead and toward The Maze. 

“Tomorrow marks your fourth month here.” He said while swinging his arms to his side, always walking with purpose. He stopped surveying the land and turned his attention to you, your eyes already studying him and trying too hard to get underneath his skin and figure out what he was thinking about. “I bet it’s not been easy to live with a bunch of boys.”

The last thing you wanted to do was say the wrong thing so you didn't speak, but instead moved your lips into a small smile, only visible to Alby because he was right beside you. 

“You and Gally seem to be getting close.” Alby chuckled, like it was an insane thought, and checked over his shoulder toward where the Builder was with a couple others. Following suit, you stopped walking and looked to Gally, too. He was immersed in work though. “How did that happen?” 

“I don’t know, really.” Flexing your brows low, you wiped at an invisible bead of sweat from your hairline with the back of your hand and contemplated, “I think because he didn’t want to fight me in The Circle, he tried to figure me out in a different way…” The Builder had challenged you to an arm wrestling which had been comically easy for him, but also broke the evident tension between you both as well as with other Gladers.  “My hammock is close to his, too, so it makes it easy to talk when I can’t sleep…” Gally had so much more time in the Glade than you did. He didn’t have as many restless nights now and, if he was annoyed with you for waking him up, he hadn't said so. “He likes my stories, too, you know?” In a futile effort to try and conjure up some of your stolen memories, you had taken to making up fables to tell the Gladers at night. With a lack of entertainment around, they had been a quick hit. 

“We’re not all going to be best friends here. It makes sense that we find connections with some people that we don’t have with others…”

It hit you as you walked along the wall of the maze, Alby two steps ahead, that this was what he wanted to discuss. Gally. You and Gally, specifically. 

“I’m asking you to be mindful that relationships affect everyone here. It’s important to not do anything that could disrupt the composure of the Glade.” 

“I don’t see how Gally and I go against keeping the peace here.”

“There’s never been a pairing here before. It unsettles some.”

“Who?”

Alby had stopped moving, his hands on his hips, as he shot you a look that made it plain he was not going to share that information. 

“Gally is hot-tempered.”

“I know.”

“So something happening could have side effects -”

“Have you had this talk with Gally?” You had to assume not because surely he would have told you. 

“I wanted to go to you first. You’re generally more willing to talk.” Alby was trying to avoid a mess, that was literally the point of the conversation. “______, some of the guys here view you as the closest thing they will ever know to a mother….”

“They do not.”

“They do.” He wasn’t speaking about himself directly, but Alby realized after your second month in the Glade that he had never experiencing nurturing, that he could recall, until you arrived. “And if Gally hurt you or something happened…” To see if you were following with what he was saying, Alby paused. “It could cause a big rift. Not to mention, the biology of you two together…”

“Alby, stop.” He had never seen a scowl over your face before, but it was as clear as the crossed out names on the wall you two were inches away from. The expression must have been novel to Gally too as he had both his hands over his eyes, trying to make out what was going on. “What are you asking me? Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?”

“Specficially, I’m asking you to not sleep in Gally’s hammock anymore.”

Swallowing hard, you shook your head and looked away from your leader, embarrassed and pissed. There was no comfort in the Glade. Sometimes, it made you feel crazy when you remembered how nothing was real there. Alby was chastising you over the one thing that was both to you. 

“It’s happened…” Holding up your fingers, you tried to count and then dropped your hand. “It doesn’t happen all the time.”

“It’s getting there.” He warned. “The two of you together could throw too much off balance. It’s the kind of risk we can’t take here.” Frankly, he was surprised that Gally hadn’t said all of this already, that he was allowing himself to give into whatever feelings were growing like weeds between you two. “If you two continue what you’re doing, I’ll leave it up to a council meeting and we can all vote.”

A whine leapt from your throat and your jaw hung open, “That is ridiculous, Alby. That is so unfair.” Like a little girl having her doll snatched away, you stomped a foot into the ground and kicked up some dry dirt to your left. 

“I’m thinking of The Glade. You and Gally need to do the same.” He held your shoulder with a hand, physically grounding you, before taking it away with him. You resented how comforting the touch was when he was telling, not asking you to essentially set aside the one bit of reprieve of your fate, the only thing whoever put you in the Maze gave you after taking everything else away. 

Walking back to the kitchen, you tried gathering your thoughts like they were peaches that had fallen to the ground from their branches, bruised from impact.

“What was that all about?” Gally jumped over a pile of cut wood to you, cutting off your path as he landed. 

He expected you to spill right there, no hesitation. Even with the sun beating down brightly over you, he could see chaos swirling around in your distracted stare. Maybe, this was a private conversation, Gally thought, and picked up your hand in his to stalk off to somewhere where you could be alone, but you snatched it back. Gally’s neck felt sore from whipping around so sharply. 

“I have so much to help Frypan with.” 

Gally watched you stalk off into the Homestead, feeling as dumbfounded as he looked. He had gone almost three years without a kiss or much compassion, but his face felt winter cold when you left his cheek without the feeling of your lips - a sensation he had only known for the last twelve days. 

You didn't sit with Gally at dinner. You didn't sit with anyone instead staying busy in the kitchen. Gally waited for you to walk back to the hammocks together, but you didn't greet him. Instead, doing the dishes right away. 

“Gally, I'm busy.” You didn't turn around, just buried your hands elbow deep in cold water and started working. 

“Tell George to do it.” He said it like he was addressing one of his Builders. “I want to talk.” Four words nobody imagined coming out of Gally's mouth. He looked at one of the sloppers wiping down the tables, scowling at them, but their only response was to sh rug. “Come on, let's go.” He breathed out. He had only been waiting a couple minutes, but your hands were still immersed in the water. Gally moved until he was right beside you: one half frustrated, a quarter nervous, and a quarter distraught. 

“Gally, I’m busy.” Out of the side of your mouth, you hissed.

“I’m just going to go ask Alby.” It wasn’t a threat because he was walking out as he was talking. It pulled your arms out of the sink in an instance, water splashing all over the floor and almost hitting your shoes. 

“No!” You yelled, but by the time he turned around you were on your knees with a stained towel, cleaning up your mess. Gally bent over and tried to help, using a damp dish towel from the countertop. “Can we, please, talk about it later?” The exhausted sigh that left your lips blew up your nose. It was an attempt to collect yourself, eyes closed, but it didn’t do anything at all. 

Reluctantly, Gally gave in. He said ‘okay’ and then looked around, a slopper still sweeping, but with his back to the two of you. He crouched down lower, sort of like he was copying a toad, and moved a handful of your hair away in a messy fashion, kissing your cheek, as close as he could to your lips - even catching one corner. 

“I’ll try to wait up.” Back upright, Gally told you instead of ‘goodbye’. 

“Wait.” Looking at your pruned pads of your fingers, you called out and brought Gally back to you for what you worried would be the last time. “You can’t do that anymore. We can’t do that anymore.” It hurt you to say so, but you tried to conceal that. If Alby could be straightforward about it, why couldn’t you?

“What?” Maybe he didn’t hear you right so Gally bent down again, bouncing his toes off the ground a little as his nerves made him fidget. “What did you and Alby talk about?” In his mind, everything was fine before you and Alby went for a walk. He had held the hammock in place that morning, throwing a leg over to press his foot into the ground in order to allow you carefully off. You smelled like him, he remembered thinking so as you stretched awake like a cat might when it uncurled from a perfect position. Now, some hours later, you were being cold, doing slopper tasks over hanging out with him, and saying you guys couldn’t kiss anymore. Confusion rearranged Gally’s face as he tried not to blow his top. 

“He doesn’t think what you and I are doing is in the best interest of the Glade…” Gally’s eyes rolled and he tossed his head back. Everything took a backseat to the irritation he felt prick at his skin like the possibility that Alby could be right. “He doesn’t want me sleeping in your hammock anymore.” 

“Okay. I’ll sleep in yours.” 

“Gally.”

He shot up and started to walk away, hands on top of his head and a huff like dragon’s breath seething out his nostrils. Pulling the apron from around your waist, you charged after him and managed to get a single step behind. 

“Don’t go argue with Alby about this, okay? It’s not -”

Biting down on his sore molars, Gally ceased all movements, just looking at you with pupils dilated to the size of saucers and gaping at you. You were going to say ‘worth it’ and it felt like you had thrown him into a tree trunk, casting him aside like nothing. 

“It’s either we behave or he holds a council meeting and lets everyone vote…”

“Vote?” Rocking back, Gally shook his head. He really couldn’t believe it. He was starting to laugh, but you knew this was not funny to him. Both your arms came around your chest as you felt uneasy about what was happening. “Yeah, raise your hand if Gally and ______ can sit together at dinner.” He called out to no one in particular, though people did look, and lifted his hand high above his head. “Okay now raise your hand if you care if Gally and _____ share a hammock sometimes.” His hand had never gone down. 

“You’ve made your point. It’s ridiculous.” 

“It’s bullshit. Did you tell him that?"

Silence was not the right reply. Gally had been about to calm down, take in a cooling inhale, but your bambi-like gaze over his shoulder and zippered mouth made a growl rise up out of his chest. He turned around and slammed his own fist into his palm. He finally had something that made the Glade feel like his, not somewhere he was trapped, but where he wanted to be and it was being taken away before it had a chance to be anything. 

“We have to put the Glade first.” When you were new, Gally had said that exact sentiment to you. “Alby is the leader. If he thinks that…I have to believe he is right.”

“You don’t have to shucking do anything.” His palms were open to you as he shoved at the air as if he was pushing you away without making contact. Gally respected Alby and he was willing to abide eventually, but for now, he wanted to be pissed off. He wanted to burn things or cut something down, a physical destruction to match the enormous storm he felt internally expanding. As he stalked away from everyone, he had to shake out his hands and stretch out his fingers to try and make room for all the commotion going on inside of him. 

Once far enough away, Gally plopped down on the trunk of a fallen tree and started picking at the bark, getting a splinter on his middle finger almost immediately. As he instinctively brought it up to his lips, he focused on the thought that had been popping up throughout his temper tantrum. If he had known that was the last time he would get to kiss you, he would have actually done it. 

[unkindnessesofone]

Jejune [Billy x Reader]

Words: 1.8k. Notes: Likely part one of a short series. Feedback appreciated.

Billy could tell that it was an afterthought, being invited out for post-work drinks by his co-workers as they were pulling on their coats and leaving the office. He tried to blend in, but something about him made him an outlier. He couldn’t put his finger on it despite the copious amount of time he spent in front of the mirror every day trying to make sure that he looked the part. While he politely declined and told them to have a good time, Billy didn’t want to just go home and stew. He would just wind up arguing in silence with his conscience that had been gnawing at him lately like a cookiecutter shark that had sunk its teeth deep into his ankle, trying to scoop out his flesh. He considered calling Amber, suggesting they get together, but they saw the situation at work so differently. Feeling every bit like the loser he feared he might be, he started his car to go home, alone.

In an effort to distract himself from the conflicting thoughts that had been keeping him up most nights, Billy stopped at the bar near his apartment. He had flirted with pretty girls there before which not only boosted his ego, it was also a great distraction. He scored a perfect street parking spot and took that as a sign that he was supposed to be there. As soon as he walked in though, he wasn't as confident.

A burgundy slip dress with embroidered roses all over it stopped him before he was even at the bar top. Billy could practically feel the mesh straps between the pads of his fingers as he sat down on a stool, having helped you out of it countless times. 

One drink, he promised himself. He didn't think things ended terribly and it had been over a year anyway. Mentally, he told himself to focus on himself or to drum up conversation with the striking curly haired model-type two seats over.

Instead, out of his peripheral, he saw you pulling a cream colored cardigan over yourself and holding it closed with both arms around your chest while some guy talked thisclose to your face. He felt a pain in his stomach and half stood up before remembering what you had said to him once in the passenger seat of his car, “Billy, I'm not a little girl. I can defend myself.” If it had annoyed you then, he had to assume that it would annoy you now to have your ex-boyfriend step in. 

He couldn't entirely help himself though. As you walked toward the bar, leaning over to ask for your bill, he called over, “Hey, is that guy bothering you?” 

It took you a second to register that the voice was directed at you. As soon as your eyes found Billy, your face lit up like hilltop mansion. 

“No, but this guy is. Hi!” Meeting him in his spot, you wrapped your arms around his neck to the best of your ability and held him tight for a second. His large hands slow to completely let you go. “Billy, it's so good to see you.” It had been over a year since he ended things, dragging it out until you were both miserable. 

“I live around here. What are you doing here? Can you stay for a drink?”

He saw you look to the guy behind the bar as he tapped his finger against the register screen, presumably calling up your tab. 

“On me.” He tapped his hand to his chest like he was swearing an oath. 

“Okay, one drink.” You caved and plunked down on the stool beside him. “I wasn't going to come out tonight, but it's a last hurrah for Zoey.” Pointing over your shoulder to the table you had been at with work friends. Billy remembered Zoey well because she told him he was pretentious twice and not like it was her opinion, but simply a fact. “She got a job at a fancy gym downtown. Not an Equinox, but a place like it. A place you'd get a membership too.” You teased before thanking the bartender for the bill and opening up your little black purse. Billy noted it wasn't the one you had been wearing when you two were together, the brown one from the Gap that was falling apart. 

He took a second to order you a gin and 7Up, hoping that your drink order hadn't changed even if your purse had. He saw you roll your eyes, directed at your lap, when he requested Hendricks and not just “gin”. 

“I have a gym in my building actually.”

“Ah, so no on-site massage therapist.” You mused while putting a creased twenty on your bill and pushing it away. You weren't really fishing if he had a girlfriend. For some reason, you assumed that he did.

Picking up the drink, you reached over to tap it gently against his own drink, but after your first sip you took Billy in with a softer smile than you had greeted him with. The curve of your lips flattened as you took him in. He had on an expensive overcoat, his wrist was weighed down by a shiny silver watch, and in a bar with brighter lighting, you would have been able to see your reflection in his shoes. He mentioned living nearby which meant he was in an up and coming neighborhood and in a building with a gym. It seemed like he finally had the life he really wanted when you two were together, but he didn't seem happy. 

“Are you meeting someone? What are you doing here?”

“I just…I…” Billy almost said he needed to just get out, but he worried it came across pathetic. He was usually quicker on his feet, years of working in sales had gifted him that skill, but it was hard when his ex-girlfriend was reading him like a take-out menu. “Just wasn't ready to go home yet.” He settled on. 

“Bad day at…?”

“I'm still at Purdue.” He clarified from behind the rim of his glass, watching as you nodded and didn't look at all surprised. “No. It was a good day. It's been a great year.”

“But something's not right?”

At first, he framed you in something that resembled annoyance, but Billy physically shook it from his face after a second. It actually felt really good to have someone see him, to not have to perform for a second. 

“What gave it away?” He laughed and emptied all, but one sip of his drink. 

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, Billy notes that they were decorated with pearl studs that looked real. He wanted to know if they were a gift from a guy. 

“We were together a good chunk of time. I knew you pretty well.” Two years and a bit wasn't nothing. “What's going on, Billy?” 

The glass was back on top of the hardwood bar and Billy’s hands were clasped together instead, leaning forward as he wrestled with opening up. He knew he should talk to someone. Someone without an agenda or a bias. Someone like his ex-girlfriend who he had left wounded due to no fault of her own. 

“I have everything that I wanted now.” He was sleeping with one of the hottest, if not the hottest, woman he had ever seen. He was making more money than he ever had been before. He wore designer labels. He drove a nice car. Yet, Billy was beginning to hate himself. He wiped at his forehead and swallowed hard before admitting, “I'm not good - I'm fucking miserable.” Sheepishly, Billy checked up from his Gucci shoes to see you keeping your mouth too full to talk, gin slightly pushing out your cheeks. “Shit. You're about to say I told you so.”

Swallowing as quick as you could, you hurriedly shook your head from side to side.

“No.” It's urgency made it sound a little bit like a lie. You did want to revel in that, but you didn't want to kick a man when he was down. “I'm going to say that I am sorry’, that sucks.” 

“You don't want to gloat a little bit?” 

It wasn't hard to remember any of the conversations between the two of you where Billy lamented being unsatisfied and you asked if he really thought “items” and “status” would change that. It was hard for him to look at you as a voice of wisdom then because you were usually in the black uniform scrubs you wore to the spa you worked as a massage therapist in. 

“That wouldn't feel good for either of us. Besides, we were never going to work out, Billy.” He seemed to want you to behave like a pissed off ex who hated him, but that wasn't you.

“Why's that?”

“I am just a massage therapist. I was never going to be enough for you.” The words came out so simply like you were talking about the weather. You washed them down with your last sip and were up on your feet. 

“What the hell? That's not true.” His brows squished his eyes and brought his whole face together like he was insulted or had just bitten into a lemon wedge. 

“Cause you're not enough for you.” You finished the thought and watched him take it in, making him instantly sober. “No pharmaceutical company or spending spree at Saks can fix that.” In the past, he hadn't believed you, but the umpteenth time was enough. You weren't his “wholesome” girlfriend anymore, you were someone who saw him and Billy realized now that nobody else had since he broke up with you. He surrounded himself with empty husks who worshipped greed. They only liked him for what he could do for them. “I really got to go. I have a stacked day tomorrow.” Billy was forced out of his head as you hugged him again, kissing his cheek chastily as you did. “It was so good to see you, Gorgeous. Thanks for the drink.”

Billy raised his hand to say ‘goodbye’, but you were already rushing back over to your small group of friends to hug them ‘goodbye’ too.

Turning around to leave, Billy made your heart jump. He was coming toward the door as if to see you out.

“Hey, do you think if I ever sort my shit out…maybe, we could get together some time? Just hang out?” His eyes looked hopeful, but childish. It didn't match anything else about him.

Billy could spy Zoey glaring at him from a good ten feet away while you decided how to respond. 

“Sure.” You decided, knowing that either Billy would never reach out or, if he did, you could set up boundaries. “I'll always be there for you, Billy.”

Watching you leave through the sliding patio window behind him, Billy felt stupid for ever forgetting that. You would always be there for him.

[unkindnessesofone]

Far as Forever [Gally x Reader]

Pairing: Gally x Reader. Words: 3k. Disclaimer: This gets smutty. Real smutty. The characters are 18+ as are those reading it. P in V, the whole banana split. Notes: I have an idea for a prequel and/or sequel, would love to know if that's something anyone would be interested in. Thanks!

“Did your friends find what they were looking for?” Gally had just ducked down to slip under the curtain when you asked. You hadn't needed to look up, the sound of Gally's footsteps was as familiar to you as cars backfiring and people yelling. 

Gally mumbled something that resembled a ‘yeah’ before stretching his arms out in front of him. He sat down on a trunk and started to pull off his boots and then his socks, noticing you were stitching up a hole in a black  jacket. He knew it belonged to someone else in the Red Arm by the style of it. 

“You okay?” You weren't staring, but you could see that Gally had a lot on his mind. That wasn't unusual for either of you, but this was different. There was something more melancholy about his tension since others from his Glade showed up. 

Gally tied the waistband of his sweatpants tighter before crawling over the blankets to lay beside you. He preferred the ground to the hammock sometimes. You had padded it with enough blankets that it was cozy even on the worst nights. 

“Hey, can you stop that for a second?” He reached over and gently pushed the jacket down, your hands following suit. It took a second to put your needle and thread down, but you gave Gally your full attention. “Things are going to get hectic fast.” He was warning you as if you hadn't grown up on this side of the wall amongst crime and strife. What was he warning you for? Did he forget that it was you who had helped nurse him back to health after Lawrence saved him? How many more times did he have to assist as you popped someone's dislocated limb back in place?

He put a hand on your stomach, a ratty throw keeping his touch from your skin. He looked serious, like the first time he walked you home as if it was an assigned job or something. You had continuously tried to lighten the mood and ask questions, but Gally was no nonsense. It took a long time to crack through his intense exterior. 

“There's really only one opportunity to get to Minho which means only one shot to get into their headquarters all together.” As Gally explained, you scratched lightly at the crown of his head, moving toward the nape of his neck. You felt a stitch and then another, all of them more precise and clean than what you could do with the crummy supplies the Red Arm had. 

Tightly, your brows frowned over your eyes as you grazed the spot and looked to Gally for answers.

“We got our chips taken out. WICKED can't detect me now.” The actual procedure had stung, but Gally did feel good. It was as close to freedom as he had ever known. Nobody owned him anymore. “We put together a plan. Tomorrow night. We're infiltrating WICKED.”

“What's the plan?” Eagerly, you sat up even taller, ready to listen. 

“You're going to leave in the afternoon. Before I go.” It wasn't at all what you thought he was going to say and it showed. “Red Arm is going to destroy the wall, but you'll be on your way by then. There's some sort of safe place…you're going to go in one of the vans with some of the others and drive to a checkpoint where there will be - ”

“No.” Maybe you sounded like a child, but you didn't care.

“I'm going to meet you in a safe place."

“Gally, no. I'm going with you. Taking on Wicked by yourself is suicide.”

“I won't be by myself. We have a plan. I'm going with Thomas, and Newt, and Fry, and…” He almost forgot her name. “Brenda.”

“And me.”

“Absolutely not. I don't want you anywhere near the building. You're going to be at least 100 miles West before I'm on the other side of the wall.”

“What if someone is injured? I always stay in case someone is hurt.” Long before you were an ally of the Red Arm, this had been your job. A naturopath mother and fighter for a father had made you something of a valuable resource to Lawrence and crew. 

“No, ______, you're not listening to me.” He squeezed your hand, willing you to focus. 

“No, I'm not because I am not going to just leave while you play vigilante in a building where everyone is heavily armed and wants you dead.”

“I will throw you in one of the vans myself, ________.” He meant it too. His tone didn't give him away, you just knew. Gally would throw you over his shoulder as if you were made of feathers and then buckle you up tightly in one of the windowless vans without a second thought if he had to.

In an effort to compose himself, Gally dropped his head and took a deep breath. 

“When do you know me to not fight like Hell, huh?” He was on death's doorstep when you first met him, but he had pushed himself to recover and become stronger. Still, this was WICKED. It was walking straight into the lion's mouth dressed in a meat suit. “I am going to do everything I can to make sure I get to you, okay?” Gally squinted, trying to see if he could make out any of your thoughts. “I won't be able to think straight if you're with me. I need to be sure you're safe.”

“I need to be sure you're safe.” You hadn't met any of the Gladers he took off with today. They were just names from stories Gally told you late at night when there was too much unrest in the city to fall asleep. He never referred to them as his “friends”. In fact, he had said they despised him. Thomas was the reason Gally currently had a red mark on his face. 

His hand reached for your furthest hip and he pulled you up as close as you could be to him without becoming one, “Babe, this is what we have been working toward. If you want help, and I know you do, you pack up tomorrow morning, get in a van, get to the Berg, and wait for me in the safe place.” He poked his finger into your chest, driving home his point. 

Your teeth were biting down on your gums in an effort to prevent yourself from getting too upset, but it was futile when you felt a storm of concern swirling inside yourself. Gally's voice may have been pleading, but his face was serious. There was no wiggle room. 

Gally nodded to the wall nearest to you, his backpack slumped in the corner by a couple books, the light source, and a couple metal water bottles.

“Pass me that.”

You did as he asked, but not without a childish scowl that made him scoff with amusement. Gally riffled with both hands in the sack before pulling out a pocket-sized knife. In the hard oak handle was an irregular uppercase ‘G’. Gally showed you the blade, your reflection muddy in its side, but he quickly closed it into itself when your finger went to touch the tip. 

“I sharpened it a couple days ago. It's the first tool I had in the Glade. I want you to take it.” When you didn't immediately do so, he carefully put it in your palm and wrapped your fingers around it. It was a piece of him. 

“Gally, you love this knife.” How many nights had you woken up in the middle of the night to him beside you, opening and shutting the blade? He couldn't sleep. Too much guilt.

“And you're going to give it back to me when we see each other.” It was a promise, cemented with a confident nod. “But you use it tomorrow if you need to. You remember how to throw a left hook?” Once Gally had recovered, he had wanted to find a way to thank you and prove that he wasn't some helpless shank with one lung. His solution was to show you how to punch. You could help fix up a broken nose and clean out most infections, but he saw that all you had to protect you in the streets was luck and wits.  

Gally held up a palm for you to push your fist into. He waited, but instead, you leaned in and kissed him with the same strength he wanted to feel in the punch. The type of kiss that was reserved for goodbyes. Gally reciprocated, bringing his open palm to your back side and sealing your chests together. While he was not going to say ‘goodbye’, he was willing to admit tonight was different. He hadn't told you how scared he was, how uncertain he was about Thomas's plan, how he didn't trust Teresa, how after all these years it was almost impossible to be hopeful.

Gally was able to maneuver you onto your back. A blanket still between you both. He laced his fingers with yours and held on dear life, the folded knife between both your palms. He was careful with his body weight, but his free hand was gripping its way around your body as he was gathering pieces of you to take for himself. If this was the last time you two could be together, it had to be unforgettable.

Gally took a breath, but you didn't want a second apart. Your mouth moved right to his jawline and then his ear, your teeth against it releasing a low purr that shook off his bottom lip. You moved to his neck, intent on leaving a mark, and moving down to the scar on his chest. You threw the knife over to your items, freeing both hands to feel his body, nails digging into his stomach lightly. 

“You think I'm not going to fight my ass off so I can have more of this?” Rhetorically, Gally asked on his knees with his head back and eyes closed. He tried to put his fingers into your hair, but you palmed the growing firmness under his sweatpants and his fingers trembled. It didn't matter how long he had been out of the maze, he was still putty when it came to pleasure. 

With both hands, you helped him out of his pants and he sprung to life, barely missing the tip of your nose. Gally had never been able to devour you while you had him in his mouth. It felt too good and he couldn't concentrate, but if tonight was the last time, he wanted everything. Wicked would have to burn the city down in order to clear out the stench of sex from this tent when you two were finished. 

“Up. Up.” He whispered and coaxed your head up from what you were about to do. “On my face. Go down on me while you're on my face, beautiful.” 

The main square of the last city had nothing on your pretty face. Gally had always thought that. He pulled his pants off the rest of the way and laid down, licking his lips in anticipation. 

The t-shirt you always wore to sleep bunched up around your hips as you lowered yourself on Gally's face, his satisfied hum muffled by your warmth. Eyes closed, he kissed you as if it was your mouth, pulling on the lips with his own before inviting his tongue to venture in. Large hands on each of your hips, he rocked you slowly back and forth over his face while his thumbs pressed into your plush ass. 

Slowly, you moved down and slid his length into your mouth. Gally was not difficult to please. He had always thoroughly enjoyed what you did to him, hollowing out your cheeks after sucking only the tip at the first, making just enough room for him. You could hear and feel him moaning between your thighs. It was a shame that he would be risking his life at WICKED headquarters tomorrow because this was his preferred way to die. 

Gally was slowing down and reaching around to try and use his thumb to massage circles around your clit, the delicate bundle of nerves you had taught him to make you cum with. Gally had had no idea to be with a woman when your relationship evolved. He was eager, but terrified to touch you. There was no blueprint. You had laid out in front of him in soft darkness and touched yourself. He felt he was going to blackout, but somehow he managed to stay conscious and study what your fingers were doing and how it caused small, sweet sounds to sneak out of you. 

Releasing his cock, you sat up with a gasp. It only encouraged Gally to curk his tounge in deeper and rub harder. His cock slapped his chest loudly thanks to all your saliva. Gally grinned into your pussy. It was heavenly to feel you melt in his mouth, whimpering as you came undone. He had come a long way from the guy who didn't know where to put his hands or how to kiss.

Sitting up, Gally helped turn you around. His mouth smashed against yours, impatiently and sloppily showing you just how in love he was, how much this connection meant to him. His thumb returned to your pussy, feeling it twitch from cumming moments ago.

“You don't want to cum in my mouth?” You thought that was his favorite.

“What do you think I'm going to do first thing in the morning?” He smirked and started to lift up your shirt. Instinctively, you reached for the lamp on the floor, but Gally shook his head. “Not allowed. I want to see every inch of you.” 

You pulled your shirt overhead and watched as he took a mental photo, framing you in his eyes and holding onto the image. It occurred to him that he did not deserve this, but you rolled your hips against his groin and he refocused. 

“It makes me feel so good…how needy you are.” He mused and kissed you again, hands sliding together up your back to easily lay you down and put himself on top. “I never need to make you beg. My girl...” Gally cooed as he ran his hands from your back to your sides and down to your hips until he was gripping each thigh, pushing his thumbs in, and opening your legs. “You think I'm going to leave you when you need me this much?” Gally's kiss was softer this time, at least until he moved lower and put your nipple between his teeth, nipping at them, and then growling as he became rougher. His cock throbbed as he gave each one attention before reaching for himself and sliding himself inside your wet mess. The two of you whined together. Instinctively, you lifted your legs over his shoulders. He kissed one ankle before holding onto it as he bucked his hips into you. He didn't need any help balancing, your pussy was squeezing him so tightly that he knew he wouldn't slip out. He could move recklessly and focus purely on your bodies combined. 

“You're so beautiful.” Eyes opening, you told him truthfully. As your hand found his free one still on the ground, holding it tightly like you were both in this together, promising to be his and for him to be yours. Gally squeezed his eyes shut and thrust harder, grunting through his nose. 

“I want to make you cum again.” He manage to say while panting, his face turning pink along with his chest. “Please, let me feel it. You feel so good.”

Legs slipped from his shoulder and Gally helped up to your knees. There was zero space between your bodies, just friction and sweat. You were grabbing him, over his shoulder, one hand in his hair. A leg wrapped around his waist and using his pelvic bone to get you off along with his relentless strokes. 

“I love you, Gally.” In his ear, mouth hanging open, you said. He had never heard the words before, at least not that he had any memory of. It felt so good that it hurt and he had to swallow around the way it stung. He clung to you, a hand grabbing the leg around him and other to your neck. He felt you cumming, a sudden pulse around his cock, while your nose scrunched up and forehead pressed against his. Gally had grand illusions of going for round after round until neither of you had anything, but gasps left. He let himself go though, unable to hold back. He mumbled a string of inaudible curses as he came inside you and panted against your bare skin. 

Pushing aside hair stuck to your face, you watched Gally pull out of you and carefully move around for some kind of cloth and settling on ripping a piece of bandage off the roll. He cleaned himself and you lazily rolled over to shut off the light. It only occurred to you now that anyone who had walked by would have seen a provocative silhouette of the two of you. Gally shrugged when you said so. Usually he was private and possessive, but he didn't care right now. This could be his last day on Earth after all. He didn't care that he had cum deep inside of you either. When he first joined the Red Arm, the other rebels gave him all kinds of “brotherly” advice namely “don't unload in the girls - even the professionals”. This was no place for a child or more responsibility. It had felt so natural and also otherworldly at the same time. He closed his eyes once he was under the covers, accepting you under his arm when you rolled in and used his chest as a pillow. 

“I love you, too.” He finally said it back as you listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat start to return to normal and he wasn't taking such laboured breaths. His deep voice didn't show any signs of doubt, just like it when he said he would meet you in the safe place.

[unkindnessesofone]

Choke [Gally x Reader]

Pairing: Gally x Reader. Word Count: 2.7k Plot: You only get so many opportunities to go after what you want (ft. other Gladers) Warnings: Lite smut (heavy petting, really) at the end.

“Which one of you shanks is to blame, huh?” Gally huffed as Newt, Thomas, and Zart came out in a rush, panting, and occupied. He had his hands on his hips and as they clumsily dashed out of the forest. 

Many Gladers saw Thomas go into the forest and even more heard him call the other Track-Hoes for help, but nobody actually knew what was going on. It didn't seem like an emergency until they moved past Gally, Zart's shoulder knocking into the Builder's, and headed toward the medical hut. Gally only realized then that Newt was holding you up, sort of dragging your sopping wet body in both arms while Thomas kept trying to interact with you.

Gally said it again, but this time with growing wrath, “Which one of you shanks is to blame, huh?” In only a few steps, he was with them and picking up your feet. “What happened?”

“Is she dead?” Chuck, seemingly out of nowhere, inquired. The youngest Glader earned himself a sharp death stare that went through his skull from Gally and his first ever “fuck off” sigh from Newt.

It wasn't as if you and Gally were together, but it felt like an open secret in the Glade that you were “Gally's Girl” (a term you loathed despite your affection toward the hard-headed builder). If anyone who was going to make this awful situation worse, it was Gally. He cared for you in a way that surprised everyone. Nobody had been more annoyed when you, the first girl, arrived in the box and yet, over time, he had come to adore you. Alby had assumed it was a symptom of mommy issues. None of them could remember their own. It was deeper than that though. Gally was your safe place. When other Gladers assumed you had been sent solely for mating purposes, he shut it down. It went both ways as well. You were Gally's safe place. Someone he didn't have to have ego with. He could deflate his chest and drop his shoulders when you two were together.

There had not been any declaration of romance though. It was a friendship with hunger dancing vividly between it. One time, after more moonshine than usual, and because Minho kept razing him, ‘You're never going to do it. You're never going to do it. You don't have it in you.’, Gally kissed you. It was rough and nervous. You didn't even have a chance to close your eyes. Once he pulled away, he looked sort of like a spooked rabbit and he jolted away sort of the same. 

When he finally came back, you were putting dishes away with Frypan and acted like nothing happened so Gally followed suit. In the moment, it seemed easier.

Now you were half out of it and Gally finally had things he was desperate to tell you. He wanted the safety of your company. He wanted you to say everything would be fine. He kept pulling Jeff's arm back when he went to touch your chest, your shirt soaked and stuck to your skin. By the third time, despite Newt hissing for Gally to leave, Clint reached over and simply pressed both palms to your sternum.

“If you can't handle this, Gally, you need to go outside.” Again, Newt said. He eyed Zart and Thomas in case muscle would be required to remove the Builder.

“What happened?” 

“We don't know.” The answer enraged Gally. His nostrils flared as he turned to glare at Thomas. 

“I asked her to get water from the pond. She didn't come back after…some time…” Newt tried to explain to the best of his ability. “Thomas went to go and see what was going on and…”

“She was face down in the pond.” Thomas told him plainly, not with the same panic when he said it to Newt while pulling you from the water.

A fist bunched up at Gally's side and it was clear he intended it for Thomas's face, but Jeff interrupted the thought. 

“She's got a pulse. She's breathing.” 

“She needs mouth to mouth.” Thomas said though he wasn't sure how exactly he knew that. 

“I'll do it.” With all the confidence in the world, he said. You were his girl after all. Luckily, he didn't catch the excitement in Zart's eyes at the prospect of putting his lips on yours.

Newt and Jeff stepped aside, making room for Gally to begin. Clint still had his hands on you, ready to do compressions. Gally ran a shaking hand over your head, dry fingers tangling themselves in wet locks. He blinked nervously and struggled to focus. It was as if the already crowded small space closed in on him. The other Gladers were saying his name, trying to bring him to reality, but it wasn't enough to pull him out. 

“Gally. Now.” Clint shouted at him. Maybe, it was Thomas. All Gally could see was you. 

Newt shoved him out of the way, tipped your head back, and began. His mouth sealing over yours. 

Gally felt like he could vomit. He was consumed by his own failure and left the hut. What good was he to you? Biting hard on the inside of his cheeks, he took off to his workspace, barking at another Glader to get out of his way. 

It took a few minutes of CPR though to everyone in the hut, it felt like an hour. Thomas nearly went to gather Gally right away, but Newt advised against it. He knew Gally. He needed time to sulk or cool down. You needed rest. 

When supper was ready, Newt gave Gally a bowl and told him to take it to you. It was a task, not a suggestion. With his tail between his legs, Gally entered the medical hut where you were laying, looking bored, but finally dry.

“Free me. Newt says I have to stay here.” Sitting up, you reached both arms out and wiggled your fingers. There was some lightheadedness, but that was all. Newt was being overly cautious. “Hey, what's a lady got to do to get a hug around here? Drown?” Arms still wide open, you waited for his large body to fill the space.

“That's not funny.” Gally put the bowl down on a small table and scolded. “You could have…” Was he going to say it? Tell you how awful it would be to lose you? “It was really scary.” Living in the Glade, he was plenty familiar with the feeling of helplessness, but it hadn't paralyzed him like that before.

“Come be close. You're so far away.” It was like he was magnetized to the wall or something. 

Curling your legs behind you, you made space for him on the bed. His body hit it like it was a sack of bricks. His arms hung between his knees, head dipping low. It wasn’t like Gally not to look at you, usually you caught him throughout the day stealing glances. 

“Why won’t you look at me?” 

Gally only shook his head. 

“What happened? You’re being weird.”

An inhale from through his nose filled his stomach, large and ponderous. 

“Gal -” You sat up to reach him, but his whole body away. 

“I choked. I shucking choked.” 

“What?”

“You needed help and I choked.” 

Gally was standing now, holding his arms over his chest with a face crumpled up in agony. 

“What are you talking about? I slipped. I went in because the water at the edge has so much algae and I hooked my boot onto a vine or something, I slipped -”

“No, you needed - I couldn’t -” Words had never been Gally’s strength. He spun around to try and find a way to explain himself that didn’t sound pathetic - weak. He spied the bowl of soup and picked it up again, this time handing it over. Maybe, it would be easier to talk if you were occupied by something else. “You needed mouth to mouth.”

“Don’t remind me.” Bringing the spoon up to your face, you pretended to grimace. While grateful to Newt and Clint, it was gross to think about. 

“I choked.” Gally came back to where he had been sitting before. He came down softer this time, eying your bare feet and then pulling the blanket by your side over them. “I said I’d do it. You needed it and I…I froze.” 

If not for the sound of laughter outside the hut, friends leaving dinner to wind down, it would have suddenly been silent between you both. Gally still looked perplexed and upset with himself and you had a mouth full of soup. 

“Do you think I’m mad at you?” Brows lowered, you tried to figure out the problem. 

“I’m mad at me! You needed one thing and I froze! I couldn’t do it!”

“Gally, don’t shout. I hate when you shout.” Closing your eyes, you offered him the bowl back so you could lay back down. “Come lay beside me, please.” 

“There’s no room for me on there.”

You shuffled right against the woven edge of the bed, legs on top of one another. It gave Gally a smidge, enough room that only one of his legs would have to dangle off. If he was precise, he could mimic your pose and make room for his whole body. His body weight shifted the bed, but the warmth coming off it drew you in and you rolled into the other direction to face him. 

“It's hard to know how you're going to handle something until you're in the middle of it sometimes…” He was listening, but he put two fingers on your neck, checking for a pulse - assuring himself. “Gally, I promise you're still the toughest person here. I won't tell anyone.” It helped that you couldn't remember. “I didn't tell anyone you kissed me.”

“Minho knows.”

“What?” 

“Well, it was sort of a dare.”

“What?” Sitting up on one arm, your jaw unhinged.

“What?”

“You kissed me on a dare?”

“Well, I wanted to do it, but Minho kept saying -” 

“It's all I've been able to think about. You kissing me, touching me, me touching you-”

“Whoa. What?”

“And it was a dare?”

Gally could feel heat radiating off your cheeks. He recognized the annoyed expression in your eyes because he had seen it directed at others. He wasn't sure if it had ever seemed this annoyed. 

“Can we go back to what you said about touching?” 

Angry eyes poked holes in his face as refused to give him the satisfaction. 

“You kissed me on a dare.” You said as if you had food in your mouth just as Gally spoke to.

“I think about it all the time too!”

Quiet fell between you both with a thump. Your chest rose and fell noticeably due to labored breaths. You turned your back to Gally and hugged yourself at the beds edge, taking up just a sliver.

“Maybe, not all the time, but a lot. And all the time at night.” They weren't the kind of thoughts conducive to sleeping in a hammock. Gally had had to find spots elsewhere at night to deal with the fantasies that drifted into his mind whenever he settled in for the night. It was hard to let himself want something. The Glade wasn't designed for dreams or desires. Frypan had commented that Gally had a small bladder due to the amount of times he hopped out of his hammock at night and wandered away. Sometimes, he needed to satisfy himself, but other times, he walked around until he was too tired to think about anything and once he splashed pond water on his face. “I liked kissing you, but that felt stupid.”

“Why?”

Gally groaned. He did not want to open up. He did not want to embarrass himself. 

“Because it's not like I was good at it and…” Eyes rolling at himself, he swiftly took in a breath to try and be brave. “And I know I'm an asshole.”

“You're not wrong.” Three words, all it took to damage Gally's pride. “You are an asshole.” He cracked a smile, but just barely. Your back was still to him. “It meant something to me and it was just a dare.”

Gally groaned, no patience for the frustration he was feeling. The curve of your body beside him did not help with how stupid he was currently feeling.

“It meant something to me too.” His large hands, weathered from constant work, spread across his face. It muffled his words, but not enough to make them inaudible. “I wanted to do it. I just didn't know how and then Minho…” None of this was helping. As he opened his fingers, he could see your profile. Eyes still hurt, mouth scowling. He sighed and shut up, reaching over to abrasively turn you around by the shoulder, making you face him. He kissed you and the nerves he felt were undetectable beneath the eagerness. It felt like need. Finishing a cup of water in one sip after a day of working in the heat. Draping your body in a blanket after getting caught in a downpour. Air after your lungs fill with water. 

Since you didn't pull away, he pulled you in with both his hands running over your back. His left was sliding beneath the fabric and he realized this was a shirt that belonged to another Glader. Your clothes must have been hanging to dry elsewhere. First, Newt had his mouth on yours. Now some other guy's shirt was on your skin. He felt feral, a growl escaping his lips and his nails lightly dragged over your skin.

“Not a dare.” He said as you stopped in order to breathe. “Because I want to. Because I feel like it.”  Gally was about to fall off the bed due to a lack of room, but he held onto you for dear life. This wasn't about comfort anyway. It felt necessary. It was what had been pulsating between you both for weeks, if not months. It seemed like Gally had finally decided going for it was more important than staying in the same place, a thought that Thomas would surely find comical. “You said something about touching me…” In a whisper, he reminded you before resuming what he had just been doing, lips clumsily opening yours. It felt natural when you swung a leg over his, pulling yourself on top of him. 

Gally was flat on his back, the bed all his, and the view making his chest ache. You looked so beautiful, like you always did, only on top of him. 

“Whose is this?” Bunching the fabric of your shirt up in a tight fit, he demanded to know. 

“I don't know.” Still kissing him, you shrugged. He tugged on it again, like a rein. “Ben's or something.” A Glader who was no longer around. “Maybe Zart's. Probably Zart’s.” You accidentally bit Gally's bottom lip. It was not easy to kiss, talk, breathe, and think all at once. He liked it though. His hips knocked upward in approval. It felt like he had a stone in his pants and, curiously, you moved your hand down to find out for yourself earning another hip jolt from Gally. 

He didn't want to tell you to take it off. He wanted to rip it from your body. It scared him how much self-control he was having to conjure up not to tug on it swiftly and throw it to the side.

He reached down, moaning, and moved your hand. It had felt like you were on the point of no return and, Gally was sure, one more touch of your hand would push you both over. 

When you looked up, face as flushed as his, you saw that he was flustered. Gally's eyes were fluttering and his chest that could be seen from the open three buttons of his shirt was beet red. It had never been that shade when he was pushing guys around in The Circle or building under a merciless sun. 

“This is crazy.” He said breathlessly. The whole day had not been what he expected. 

You rolled off him and laid beside him, his hand loosening on your shirt in order to loosely drape his arm over you. A minute passed, maybe two, and you both blinked at one another again. Everything had changed in an instance and yet it felt normal like this is how you both were supposed to be spending your time. As Gally pulled you in a little closer, the stiffness in his pants unrelenting, you sat up to whisper right in his ear, “I dare you to take me to the woods.” 

[unkindnessesofone]

Independent Studies [Gally x Reader]

Words: 2k. Summary: You have taken on a new role in the Safe Haven and it has Gally's attention.

Note: This was an idea I have had for a while. I think this could be a series. I have a second part in mind that could be smutty, but could also just be sweet. Some feedback would be appreciated. Thank you.

Someone referred to them as ‘the Lost Children’, the many kids rescued from WICKED headquarters who wandered around the Safe Haven with fear wordless on their tongues,  but wonder flashing in their eyes. It could be hard to watch them as they tried to piece together a new life with even less certainty than the timorous adults around them who were mostly making it up as they go. Vince suggested you take on a teacher role for them. 

“Everyone’s role is important here, but maybe that’s what you’re being called to do…” He countered when you worried that you would be leaving the other cooks high and dry. 

At first, you rounded up all the kids in the morning by the water for walks. The lesson was simple: familiarize yourself with your surroundings and ask questions. 

“Why is the water salty?”, “Why aren’t the sun and the moon in the sky at the same time?”, “When can we stop walking?” 

Sometimes their questions required your own research, setting you up to be the student around the bonfire with others at night. It became clear to Vince that you were going to need an actual classroom. Rocks on the beach could only cut it for so long. 

Lessons continued while the Builders worked on the space. Over the sound of hammers against wood and grumbling voices, you read the class, Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. A beat up paperback someone had brought along on the journey to the Safe Haven had become a favorite of the Lost Children. Evidently, it was a favorite of one of the Builders. The tallest one. The one who was easily annoyed until story time started, then he was focused and quiet. Gally. You caught him leaning away from the beam he had his hand on, straining to hear, or laughing at the same part the kids did. When Dorothy angrily tossed a bucket of water at the Witch, the Builder hissed in pain. Accidentally, he had hit his index finger with his club hammer because he had been paying more attention to the story. 

“Would you like me to make you a copy of the book?” The kids were gone and the Builders were beginning to pack up for the day themselves. It was the perfect time to approach the guy who was still shaking his hand out in an effort to minimize the pain. “I am going to write copies for the class anyway.” What was one more?

“Why would you do that?” He was asking in a way that suggested you were crazy for asking. 

“It seemed like you were enjoying it. We're going to start The Secret Garden soon. It's too bad you guys are almost done.” 

Gally inhaled deeply, hastily trying to hide the flush of color growing across his face. A whistle sounded through his teeth as he inhaled. 

“I don't care about your kid stories, okay?” He huffed, arms crossed over his chest. He sounded defiant, but not at all convincing. Still, you had been spending most of your days surrounded by small children. You understood when not to push. 

“Understood.” A simple nod seemed to soften him.

A few mornings after your terse exchange with Gally, you were sitting at breakfast with your crew of kids. They had become something of an extra limb, but not an anchor. They couldn't wait to swallow their porridge before asking the new questions that had come to them in the morning. 

A rare second of silence granted you enough time to put a spoonful in your mouth, but a delicate barely-there tap on your shoulder interrupted as soon as the cutlery was between your lips. 

“Teacher.” The little boy, Malcolm, sputtered instead of calling you by your name like you had told them they could. With a full mouth, you simply gave him your full attention with an enthusiastic stare. “Gally has a question. He told me to ask you -” His arm outstretched, he pointed right at the Builder hunched over his own breakfast two tables away. Gally appeared mad, but you detected it was embarrassment tightening his jaw. “But I forgot.” It was Malcolm's turn to look embarrassed. 

“If the question is important enough to him, Gally will ask me himself.” Gally was no longer looking over at your table, but you were willing to bet he overheard. 

*****

As the kids in your class grew closer, it was easier for them to let their guards down even with only select people. Grown adults still struggled with night terrors whether they had survived a maze, a medical facility, or life through the Flare so it made sense that the kids were scared to fall asleep. You were sharing rancid moonshine around the fire with a friend when three of your students scampered over, taking turns jumping over sticks and small designs in the sand on their way to you. 

It was all they could think to do when one of them was crying from a nightmare: Go find teacher. 

Three hands pulled you along, back to their tent, as you swallowed over and over to try and replace the putrid flavor that had instantly dried out your mouth. If you hadn't seen the jar with your own eyes, you would have sworn your friend gave you something from the laundry to drink. 

Holding the sniffling little girl, Ada, up on your lap, running a hand down her long braid as she leaned into your cheat, you started to weave a story aloud for all the kids. It started with the Cowardly Lion, a character they particularly liked from The Wizard of Oz, and he had to go on a journey with his friends not unlike the one they went on down the yellow brick road, but despite all they had been through, the Lion was still afraid. 

As Ada began to drift off on your lap, you looked up to see how many others had been lulled to sleep. It was then you saw him. Gally. A jar of moonshine in hand, leaning against the beam he installed and listening intently. He didn't break your stare. He didn't pretend to be doing something else. This time, he stayed completely still and just listened. 

It took a couple minutes to tuck every kid in and you waited one more to be sure they were actually asleep. Stepping around their cots and hammocks carefully, you made your way to Gally with a playful insult about his moonshine on the tip of your tongue. 

“How does it end? You didn't say what happened to the Lion…”

“I thought you didn't care about my kid stories.” 

“I don't.” Instinctively, the answer popped out like a button leaving the pants of a man they no longer fit. “You know a lot. It's intimidating.” Reluctantly, he caved before taking a big sip. 

“I intimidate you?” It made you laugh. Gally was large and loud and seemed sure of himself.  

He wasn't laughing though. He was looking off over your head, drinking. Tilting your head to the side, you led him away from the kid's quarters. 

“I'm intimidating, you were saying…”

Maybe, that was the wrong word, Gally wasn't sure. He wrestled with his head before the liquid courage took control, “You’re smart.” People always said Builders were good with their hands, not their heads and that stuck with him now that he was out of the Glade. “You’re literally teaching those kids to read and write and count…”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin with building these structures. We all have our roles.” It was the truth, but you could tell that it did little to comfort him.

“I can read and write okay, like, I wrote Chuck’s name in the rock.” He explained as you two walked side by side towards the water, the sound of the waves softly meeting the shore calling to you. He offered you his jar, but you shook your head. A clear ‘no’. “I just…I was in the Glade a long time. I don’t know a lot that…other people do.” He was turning his throat into linen, taking a sip with every embarrassing piece of his confession. He noted your feet walking along where the water met the land like you were walking along a tightrope, moonlight dancing down the part of your arm exposed from your fallen sweater. He reached over and pulled it back up over your shoulder, nervous by how much he liked what he saw. It made you pause and stare back up at him. “I do like your stories and I like when the kids tell me stuff they’re learning from you. I guess I’m…I’m not jealous, but -”

“Gally?” It seemed like if you didn’t interrupt, he might talk himself into a circle. “Do you want private lessons?”

“What?”

“We could get together and we can read or you can help me make copies of stories for class. Nobody has to know.” The last part seemed vital to the Builder so you held up your hands as if you were being held at gunpoint, trying to mime that you had no malintention. 

Gally sat on the offer while you kept tip-toeing over the wet sand, arms out at either side for balance. He took a long sip of his drink before nodding.

“Okay!” He called to your back. “Yeah, I could do that.” He jogged to catch up to you again, once again lifting your sleeve over your shoulder. “When?”

The bonfire was still roaring in the distance, but there was no chance Gally would have his story time on full display like that. The key to successfully tutoring him was the privacy aspect. Checking your surroundings, it took a second before an invisible lightbulb flickered on above your head. As if Gally was one of your adorable students, you grabbed his hand and pulled him toward your classroom. 

It was pitch black, but Gally could hear you closing cupboards and shuffling around. Being there reminded him that you had asked for desks for the kids, but it had been waved away at the time. It crossed his hazy mind that he could do it himself after hours. 

“Aha!” Pulling him from his thoughts, you lit a white candle. Carrying the flame chin-level, Gally was mesmerized by your features. He supposed he might actually make a decent student considering how much studying he was doing at the moment: noting the three different shades he saw in your eyes and the fluttering of your lashes, taking a mental picture of mouth as it curved into a smile when you waved him over with your other hand. 

There was a comfortable corner with cushions and blankets, a place the kids liked to sit when they were having a tough time focusing. You rested the candle on a stool while Gally spread out his legs. He didn’t leave much room for personal space, so you folded your legs behind you and opened up the book to the first chapter. 

Your finger stroked the page, gliding beneath the first few words, “Can you read that?” Gally’s lids were heavy though. A hard day of work and a plethora of moonshine made it hard to resist the comfort of the pillows he was resting again.

"I was sort of hoping you could tell me what happens to the Lion in your story..." Gally admitted, putting his jar off to the side and leaning deeper into the soft nest. 

Curled up like an oversized child himself, blanketed by a small flame, it seemed Gally wasn’t so tough and you couldn’t help, but feel genuine care for him. The offer to tutor him came out naturally, but looking at him now, it didn’t feel like extra work. It was something you wanted to do.

Putting down the book beside you, you took a cue from Gally and stretched out your legs to get comfortable, closing your eyes and starting where you left off in your made up fable earlier.

[unkindnessesofone]

Vitals [Gally x Reader]

Words: 1.3k.

Notes: Reuniting with Gally ft. Frypan friendship. [This was inspired by the prompt, 'Honestly? It really sucks', from one of @promptsbytaurie's lists]

As if your feet were suddenly one with the ground, you could not move. The freshly unmasked man in front of you with shame and surprise stirring together through the pale green in his eyes was waiting for you to say something, at the very least, but even your lips seemed to have turned into stone. The sight of Thomas rushing at Gally and throwing a fist to his face hardly shook you from your trance. 

He looked behind himself as he led the way to Lawrence and the rest of the rebellion, quietly checking on you, but all you did was stare wide-eyed in return. He told himself it was a look of contempt. He killed Chuck and now you hated him like everyone else.  

It wasn't until Gally took Thomas and Newt into the city that you could actually figure out what you were feeling.

“Is it too on the nose to say you look like you've seen a ghost?” Frypan dryly remarked, leaning up against the dilapidated “shed” you were to call home for the night.

Slowly, you dragged your eyes to him before laughing. He was right. He was always right.

“I was picturing some whole Romeo and Juliet thing, but you were kind of cold…” 

“I thought he was dead. I was in shock. I am in shock.” The words came out clumsily as you dipped your head back. “I've been grieving him alone and now suddenly…here he is. He's been here. He's alive.” At least, he seemed okay.  “What do I even say to him?” Looking to Frypan, a pleading in your eyes illuminated by a nearby trashcan fire. 

“I don't remember you two doing a whole lot of talking back in the Glade.” A perfect “big brother”, Frypan teased and knocked his elbow into your rib. He forgot how sore it was from the tumble you took earlier when outrunning a hoard of cranks. 

“You guys act like we were making out all the time in front of you. You saw us kiss, like, twice in a whole year.” Gally was private about everything. He hated when any of the guys gave him guff about it. It wasn't easy for him to be viewed as soft, to have a weakness. “It's not like I can just leap into his arms now and shove my tongue down his throat.”

“Why not?”

“Because for all I know, he's with someone or…maybe, he hates me.”

“No way he hates you.” 

“He could. I left him. He was dying and we left.”

Frypan was shaking his head from side to side, not willing to accept what he was hearing. 

“I distinctly remember a guard taking your foot to their groin as they dragged you off him, alright?” He dug his eyes as deep as he could into yours to really make himself clear. “You don't have to charge at the guy or make any moves, but you can tell him you missed him or something.”

Frypan had always been so willing to be there for you. It made it hard to be annoyed with his wisdom.

“I don't know…” You sighed and dropped your head to your shoulder, feeling as if it had doubled in weight. 

As your tired eyes finally began to close, Frypan spoke again, “Hey Gally, ______ and I were just talking about how much she missed you.” He said matter-of-factly, like he was asking what to make for dinner. “How'd it go, guys? Figure out where Minho is?” Climbing up onto his feet, Frypan shouted toward Thomas and Newt before heading over.

Gally was staring at you, expectantly, but every time you tried to look back, your eyes strayed. You found dust on the toes of your boots, a series of holes in a blanket being used as a door across the way, and even an empty brown glass bottle beside the pillar he was leaning against to look at. Anything, but him. 

He was about to give up. Gally uncrossed his arms, dropping them loudly to his side, when you found something to say.

“What's it like having a collapsed lung?” It wasn't what you wanted to say and it seemed like Gally knew that because he raised his brows in a way that basically asked, ‘Seriously?’

“Honestly? It really sucks.” He said plainly and kicked at dirt between you, coming closer. “It's not that different than watching someone you love leave.”

 A sudden feeling of breathlessness that was sharp and held his entire body hostage. It wasn't foreign to him.

Gally's words didn't sound cold, but they made your whole body tense up like someone ran an ice cube up your spine. Once again, you tore your eyes from him in shame, but he didn't let you escape this time. Gally sat down beside you and forced you to see him, to take in his dirty face. If there was a competition between you both for who needed to wash and rest more, Gally would win. 

“You were so cross with me for following Thomas…” A whisper was the best you could do, eyes tightening to keep tears from flooding in.  

“No. No.” He shook his head, trying to whisper back. Quiet was not Gally's default. “I was mad at myself for trying to hold you back...” He said it urgently and like it was a promise.

“And then when Minho struck you, I didn't want to -” You were crying now, tears evaporating into your dry skin as soon as they dropped out of your eyes. It didn't stop Gally from shushing at you and pressing his calloused thumbs into your cheeks, gracelessly trying to wipe them away. 

“Stop. I don't want to talk about it, ______. I don't want to go back there.” He half-sighed, dropping his head back before taking his touch for your face and picking up one of your hands in both of his. Gally held your palm up against his chest, keeping it close to where his bad lung was, where a scar sat as an everyday reminder of one of the worst days of his life as far as he could recall. The day he killed Chuck. The day he was stung. The day he lost his “family”. “Do you feel that?” He asked over the beat of his heart that was tangible beneath his sweater. “I'm okay. We’re both okay.” The fact that you two managed to find one another again was almost enough to make someone as abrasive and disillusioned as he was to believe in fate. He lacked the depth to say so, but it was the only thing he felt since seeing you in the crowd, standing beside Frypan and trying to see an inch in front of yourself.

Sucking in a deep breath, you tried to blink away a few remaining tears. The rhythm of his heartbeat was soothing so you kept your hand there, holding on to proof that Gally was alive. 

“We’re going to get Minho and we’re going to get out of here. Together.” He sounded every bit as confident as he used to when he told everyone to stay in the Glade, that Thomas was lunatic. He sounded like your Gally. “We're going to take down WICKED.”

Jumping up to his feet, Gally extended a hand to help you stand. You didn't waste a second putting your hand back to where it had been on him once you were upright.

“I'm just reminding myself that you're really here.”

Gally smirked before leaning in and brushing his lips to yours. Slow at first, nervous for the count of one, and then his mouth opened up to pull you in. He had a hand on your back to fulfill his own need to feel your realness while the other covered your hand still on his chest. 

“Out of practice, but I'm here.” Taking in a deep breath, Gally panted. He was going to have to get used to doing that with one lung, but the dyspnea felt worth it with you back in his arms.

[unkindnessesofone]

Please send in a number and a character. A maze runner character or any Will character. Thanks.

dialogue prompts: four words

!!please credit/tag me if you use any! I'd love to see what you write!!

"I'm sorry, you what?"

"Just... open the door."

"I was joking, okay?!"

"Honestly? It really sucks."

"Part of me hurts."

"Bring me my child."

"Did I fucking stutter?"

"I have three PhDs."

"You should kiss them."

"Wipe the blood away."

"I waited for you."

"Was I wrong, though?"

"I hate your face."

"I need more time!"

"Wish it all away."

"I can't help you."

"Just let me inside."

"It won't hurt, okay?"

"They'll never be ready."

"You took everything away!"

"Now we're just stuck."

"I don't need you."

"Go ahead, kill me."

"This was never ours."

"You're still here waiting?"

"I want my dad!"

"Let them go. Now."

"Especially after that happened."

"I'm not going home!"

"You're better than this."

"Don't you even dare."

[unkindnessesofone]

Masterlist

Gally

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Photopsias - Gally x Reader [Angst]

Couverture - Gally x Reader [Fluff/Mentions of smut]

Vitals - Gally x Reader [ft. Frypan - Fluff/Angst]

Independent Studies - Gally x Reader [Fluff]

Choke - Gally x Reader [Angst/Lite smut]

Far as Forever - Gally x Reader [Smut]

Jettison Level - Gally x Reader

Cactus in the Valley - Part 1 - Gally x Reader

Billy Cutler

----------------

Jejune - Billy Cutler x Reader

[unkindnessesofone]

— yikingtons (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

[unkindnessesofone]

Couverture [Gally x Reader]

Pairings: Gally x Reader. Word Count: 435.

Plot: A whole lot of firsts to experience now that they are out of the Glade. [Mentions of smut. No actual smut. Happy Gally. Fluff!]

Lopsided and large, a slaphappy smile had taken over Gally’s face as you pulled him away from his friends as soon as the bonfire had begun. Earlier, when you were eating dinner with everyone else in the Safe Haven, you whispered to Gally while his mouth was full that you had a surprise for him. 

Once far enough away from the group, you led Gally into one of the tents. He helped himself to a made cot, legs extended over the edge, and parted with room for you. He figured he was about to be treated to a sequel from the other night. His hands were impatient as they fiddled with the button of his pants.

“Close your eyes.” You hummed. Gally did not need to be told twice.

He pulled at his groin and then flattened his palms against the cot, leaving you to undress him. 

“Open your mouth.” 

The instruction struck him as strange, but Gally didn't question it. Immediately, he dropped his jaw and waited.

He wasn't sure what he expected to taste, but as soon as the sweet earthiness hit his tongue, his eyes popped open. You could plainly see fireworks exploding in them as you lightly tapped his chin and helped bring his lips together again. He swallowed the sugary treat as it melted in his mouth. 

“Helen showed me how to make it. It's chocolate.” Gally followed your eyes to the small brown squares sitting on a piece of cloth in your hand. “The crops she needed for it finally grew. Isn't it so good?” They hadn't had it in your maze so you assumed correctly Gally hadn't any memory of it either. 

“I thought you took me away so you could go down on me again.” Gally admitted with a laugh, helping himself to another square.

“This is better than that!” Popping a piece into your mouth, you declared.

Gally had to think about it. It was delicious. It tasted special somehow. Looping a finger into the pocket of your pants, he pulled you between his legs and helped bring your lips to his. The taste of sugar and cocoa beans coming together as he kissed you. 

“It's a close second. I’ll give you that.” He teased. 

While you wrapped the confection back up, Gally tapped his tongue to the roof of his mouth and studied the flavor. He had a hand in your soft hair, remembering that's where it had been the other night. Every day in the Safe Haven, he learned something new and he couldn't believe that this was his life now, that he could be this happy.

[unkindnessesofone]

Photopsias [Gally x Reader]

Pairings: Gally x Reader. Word Count: 1k

Summary: Gally hates change. [Angst]

Notes: I haven't written in a while.

He was restless. Tossing and turning beside you and constantly ripping the thin blanket from your body. Usually with exhausted bones and a full-ish stomach, Gally was out like a light as if the prospect of nightmares didn’t exist. Tonight was different. You knew the arrival of Thomas, and the changes he brought along with him, had irked Gally. Still, it was strange for him to be up all night.

“I’m going for a walk.” He grumbled in one low huff. 

“Do you want some company?” Through a yawn, you asked. The question held Gally in place. He stopped pulling his shirt over his head for a second, contemplating. 

Once his brown shirt was on, he brought his chin to his shoulder, looking back at you in his bed in the hut he had just recently built for only the two of you, and nodded sheepishly like a little kid embarrassed that they were still afraid of the dark. 

You wore the blanket like an oversized shawl, holding it together at your chest, and took his hand. The usual nighttime soundtrack of the glade made up for Gally’s silence: crickets, low wind between blades of overgrown grass, and light snoring from your fellow Gladers fast asleep. Gally’s footsteps leading you around the outskirts of the forest was the only added note. 

“Are we going to talk about it?” Finally, you interrupted his stewing and asked. “Secret’s out - you’re upset.”

Gally walked a little deeper into the trees, sighing as he tried to decipher how to even go about expressing himself. It was easy when it was with his fists with the other guys, but talking was a novel concept. He didn’t let go of your hand, but he leaned himself up against the trunk of a walnut tree and sighed with his head bent back. The moon illuminated his face through the branches, softening his face that was otherwise tight from the tension he was carrying. His eyes opened slowly on you and he put his fingers between yours. It occurred to you now that he seemed scared. He was holding on tightly. 

“Talk to me.” You tried again, taking a step closer to him. The words were trapped between his teeth though, locked between molars. “Is this because Thomas thinks he found a way out of the maze?” It wasn’t a promise. He and Minho had simply found something new: the Griever's entrance.  

“I've been here three years. We had made peace with being here. He comes along and now, three days later, everyone's itching to get out -" His nose scrunched up as his eyes narrowed, casting his anger away from you and toward whatever was tangled up in the shadows of the forest. 

“It's just hope. For the first time, they feel -”

“Yeah, don't think I didn't notice how you lit up when he made his big announcement.” Gally snarled. He felt your fingers loosen in his grip and Gally adjusted his posture, standing at attention, trying to make out your expression. “What? You did.”

“Yeah, I did. Wouldn't you want to be out there instead of trapped in here?”

“We don't know what's out there.” He snapped, almost hissing as he pushed off the tree and toward you. 

“Change is scary, Gally. I know that, but if there's a chance-”

“A chance for what?” He snatched his hand away, gripping at his hair as his eyes dilated wide as if he needed to make them as large as possible to make you understand, to get through your head. “We're here. Our lives are here. I built us our own place. We have community. We have what we need.” His voice was getting away from him. Gally stopped to try and compose himself, running both hands down his head while taking a deep breath. He returned to you and pulled you closer, both hands sliding under the blanket until they were rested at your side. It was as if he was attempting to anchor you both to the Glade. “If there's something else you want, name it, I'll make it. There's nothing out there for us.” He kept his voice down, but barely. 

The silence felt as heavy as the darkness you were both standing in. The only thing you could think to say was the one thing you knew Gally did not want to hear. 

“But what if there is a chance -” His groan cut you off as he stomped away, his calloused hands off you like you were suddenly made of flames. “No, listen to me…” Following behind him, you pleaded. It was hard to catch up. He had long legs and knew the forest was better. You didn't want to trip and land in God knows what. “I have thought about a life outside of this. With you. A real bed or a home with a door. Or, I don't know, a morning where I get dressed without you standing watch…” Gally had to admit that would be a perk, one less responsibility. “Don't you want to know where you came from?” It had been the hardest part of adjusting to the Glade for you, having no answers to the past. Who were your parents? What had been your life? Did you have siblings? Pets? Good friends? You used to close your eyes as tightly as you could to conjure up a memory but there was nothing, just phosphenes.

“Not anymore.” Gally turned around and made your shape out under the crescent moon's glow. “Not since you got here.” Six months and three days ago. “I don't long for anything now. I'm happy here.” Maybe, it wasn't happiness, but he was satisfied. “You make me happy. This is enough for me.” A beat passed and you thought, maybe, he would walk over to you again. “I guess I thought I was enough for you too.” 

This time it was you who was at a loss for words, not that Gally gave you an opportunity to find them. He turned around and started going further into the trees, leaving you alone in the woods and as wide awake as he was. 

[unkindnessesofone]

I used to write all the time. Different stories for different things. It was a primary source of joy for a long time, but then life happened (mostly good life, albeit) and I stopped. So, for me, I'll be taking baby steps. Be gentle and kind. I will always be gentle and kind in return.