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majesty31 · 1 month

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𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 | 𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔, 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕. 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚. 𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 <𝟑

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒆. 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏. 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓?

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓, 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔, 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒔, 𝒃𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒔. 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟐.𝟖𝑲

The world felt as if it were spinning- no coming to a complete stop. Time felt as if it wasn't a thing. You stood there like a complete idiot with a knife to your throat as you looked at the man you had come to love other the past three years. Millions of thoughts were coming to your head as everyone around you was yelling, you couldn't hear a word anyone was saying all you could hear were the thoughts running trough your head.

Did he even love you? If he did, wouldn't he give anything to be with you, give anything to have a normal life with you outside of this damn Glade. You knew the reasons for this, he was scared, so scared that everything else was blurred and blocked out. His feelings for you didn't feel as strong when the fear was much stronger. And at this moment you wanted to hate him, you wanted to yell and scream at him to just listen to everyone. Listen to you. But he wouldn't and everyone including yourself knew this.

Your eyes were filled with tears, your heart was going so fast you thought it would rip out of your chest completely and you felt as if the world was ending. You didn't think you'd ever feel so bad in your life, the feeling was far worse than fear, it was far worse than the many panic attacks you've had over the years, it was much worse than millions of stabs, you'd even prefer the stabs, you'd prefer the panic attacks. For anything was better than this.

The moment his eyes connected with yours you knew you would never see him again, you knew he was gone, he was already a dead man. And even the thought of leaving him behind made you want to throw up. The thought of begging him to come with you came across your mind many times but you knew better than to beg a dead man to leave his graveyard.

His hard eyes softened when he saw the pain in your eyes, he knew you wanted to go with them, he knew you wanted him to go with you, he knew it all. But he couldn't see past that damn fear.

"Let her go," His voice came out soft, softer than anything you've ever heard coming from his lips. Your eyes didn't leave his, not even when you felt the knife slowly drop from your throat. And before you could stop yourself you ran up to Gally, your shaking hands grabbing his neck and pulling his face down to meet yours.

His lips collided with yours and he didn't stop you, instead he dropped his knife and pulled you in closer, kissing you back with so much passion you thought that maybe this would change his mind, you thought for sure he loved you. But this kiss was a goodbye and you both knew this.

You gripped his hair tighter, going onto your toes to get more acses to him making his grip on your waist tight, so tight it hurt, but you didn't care. The hurt was nothing compared to what you felt in your heart. You wanted nothing more than to be in his arms for the rest of your life, and if you would've known that the last time you'd ever see him smile or laugh was that night you wouldn't have ever looked away.

You pulled away from him, your head leaning on his as he gazed into your eyes. Neither of you said anything, for you both already knew what the other wanted to say. You knew you'd never find another like Gally, and you never wanted to ever try to find someone to replace him. He was the one for you, and now. Now you had to leave him here to die. You were in a nightmare and you were just waiting until the morning came so that you could run back into his arms and everything would be fine again. But that was just a dream at this point. A dream you'd never be able to reach.

You felt cold the second you stepped away from his warm embrace. It took everything in you to keep on moving forward, you didn't even dare to look back. You felt a warm hard on your back right as you rejoined the group of teenagers leaving the Glade.

"It'll be okay," Newt whispered as he wiped your wet face.

The rest of it all came in a blur, you barely remember anything from running in the maze to running from Grievers. And soon you were in a room with dead bodies scattered all over, most due to gun shots. You remembered a video and then your world crashed and crumbed right in front of your eyes.

You remember screams and cries, all coming from you. You remember being pulled away from the only dead body you never wanted to see dead, you remember feeling numb. You remember his face, his eyes. They looked as cold and empty as you felt.

~~~

As the months went on you wished you had never left the Glade in the first place, for the world was nothing any of you expected, it was dark, and dead. Everywhere you looked you saw more and more death, you saw how survival was all anyone ever thought about anymore, your small group seemed to be the only ones who cared about friendship and loyalty.

You were surprised you lasted as long as you did without dying, or without getting the flare but in all honesty it was due to your group, you all saved each other over and over, never leaving anyone behind. So when Minho got captured each and everyone of you wanted to go back fro him, and thats exactly what you did.

You got shoved to the side by Newt as a truck passes by, yours eyes follow it when you see there were about five men sat on top all wearing masks. You start to feel a little uneasy when one of the men doesn't look away from you, his head moving to the side as the truck moves further along the road.

You snap your head back to Newt when he starts walking forward, your eyes roam around, seeing so many people in one spot was rare nowadays and you knew this wouldn't end well, WIKD would never allow it get like this and soon they would put a stop to it.

You saw how Thomas walked ahead of all of you, ignoring Jorge when he tried to stop him, you knew this wasn't the best way to get Minho back but none of you had a better plan so you kept on walking, ignoring the strange feeling in your chest that told you something bad was going to happen.

You looked behind you only to see that same man who you saw on the truck, his eyes were covered by the mask so you didn't know weather or not he was even looking at you, but either or it didn't feel right. Something about him made you feel uneasy, maybe it was his height, he towered over everyone it seemed like, and he had a really good build. He was intimating, and the mask made it worse.

Newt seemed to see this too, he pointed another one out to you, and this made the both of you move faster towards the rest of your group. And before you even realized you were all running again with bombs crashing into the ground all around you.

As you were running you saw someone behind you, you didn't think much of it for everyone was trying to get out before being killed but than you felt strong arms warp around your waist and before you could get out of their grasp they pulled you up.

You screamed and tried hitting the man but he was far too strong. Your wide and worried eyes searched for your friends but you didn't see them anywhere, making fear creep into your body. You turned your head to see it was the same masked man you saw on the truck, his eyes were looking stright ahead and before you knew it you were shoved into a van, hitting the floor with a grunt.

You quickly moved to the back wall when the man got in with you. You looked at them with fear laced in your eyes, there were about three men all in masks and just staring at you. Your breath was coming in and out fast, you looked around trying to see if there was a way out but you knew if you tried they would probably shot you dead.

You jumped when the door slid open but relaxed a little when they threw Thomas in. He was yelling at the man but his yells came to deaf ears when the man shut the door in his face, he turned around, his eyes finding your causing him to relax a little.

You both jerked when the Van started moving, and you tried your best to not freak out. What if they were with Wicked? All kinds of horrible thoughts came to mind but they all vanished when the Van stoped.

Thomas tried to fight off the men when they grabbed him and pulled him out. But due to his fighting they just threw him to the ground. You on the other hand, got out of the van by yourself, your eyes glaring daggers at the man who reached to get you out. But by the look you gave him, he backed away from you.

You ripped your gaze off his, the further you walked the more men you saw, all wearing masks, all carrying weapons, all looking like they could kill you without a single thought, or a single care. Thankfully you saw everyone you came here with, but they were all standing in front of the men, this could very well be your end. And Minho would rot in wicked for who knows how long.

Your heart picked up in pace when a man started talking, his voice was deep but it sounded way too familiar. He was the same man you've been seeing since you got in the city, there was something different about him, but you didn't know what exactly it was.

You could feel Thomas getting impatient the more the man spoke. You cursed to yourself when he finally had enough, pushing the man who was behind him and stepping forward. "What do you mean same side! Who the hell are you?"

Everyone went dead silent, and you could feel yourself holding your breath, waiting for the man to give some kind of reaction, a reaction none of you wanted. But he was quiet for far too long. You furrowed your brows when he turned his head, grabbing his mask with his free hand and pulling it over his head. He looked at the ground for maybe 5 second before turning his head to you all.

Your heart dropped to the ground, the air around you felt thick, and you could feel yourself having trouble breathing. Tears came to your eyes in an instant and every sound around you turned off, all you could hear was a faint buzzing and your pounding heart in your chest.

His eyes connected with yours so fast you thought you had gotten whiplash, you could feel everyones eyes on you, not just Gally's and it was making you feel suffocated. You didn't know what to do, or what to feel. You wanted to cry, yell and scream all at the same time, you wanted to run into his arms and hug him until you died but at the same time you wanted to hit him over and over again for the way he hurt you, and make you leave without him.

But before you could even take a step Thomas lunged forward, hitting Gally straight in the face, hard. So hard Gally fell to the ground with Thomas right on top of him. You wanted to move, run towards them and stop Thomas from hurting him but you couldn't move, no matter how hard you tried too.

Thankfully Newt did it for you, running towards the two boys, he fell beside Thomas, grabbing his hand, stopping him from going further. You could see their lips moving but you didn't know what they were saying, you felt as if you were in a dream, floating out of your body, it didn't feel real. Nothing felt real.

Thomas got off him fast, but you could see he was dripping with anger, anger you were slowly starting to feel. Gally got up and off the ground, moving his jaw with his hand before he eyes you again. His gaze softened, his voice dropped in pitch and he looked almost scared.

"Y/N?" Everyone turned to you again, but you didn't even see anyone, all you could see was red as you looked at the boy who was supposed to love you enough to leave with you. But he was a coward then he defiantly was one now.

And before you could stop yourself you moved forward, it all happened so fast as you grabbed the gun for the man behind you, he tried to stop you but you kicked him in the crouch casuing him to fall to the ground.

With the gun in your hands and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you tightened your grip on the firearm, your knuckles white with tension as moved towards Gally who didn't move from where he stood before. He held his head high, his eyes becoming glazed, but he clenched his jaw waiting for you to do what you wanted.

You could hear yelling from everyone behind you, but it was too late. Without a moment's hesitation, you swung the gun with precision, striking him hard across the temple with the back of the weapon. A sickening thud resonated through the air as the force of the blow sent him reeling backward. His eyes widened in shock, then dulled with pain as he crumpled to the floor.

The room fell silent, save for the heavy breaths echoing in the aftermath of the swift blow. You stood over him, chest heaving. The weight of what you had just done settled upon your shoulders, but you pushed it aside, the anger still seeping in your veins when he looked up at you, his nose bleeding.

You didn't know what was going on around you but whatever it was it died down when Gally raised his hand, telling them it was okay. His breathing came in and out harshly, his eyes connected with yours and the same softness still visible.

"You piece of shit," You breathed out, your voice dripping with hurt and rage. "You shouldn't have come back," Tears filled your vision as you remembered what he did, and how he made you feel. You had woken up screaming and crying because of him, and thinking you saw him die right in your arms. But he wasn't dead, and it was messing with your head, he was messing with your head.

"I'm so sorry Y/N," You let out a small cry at the sound of his voice, or the way your name rolled off his tongue. You didn't think you would ever hear him say your name again, and it caused your heart to physically hurt. Your breathing was getting faster and faster the more you let yourself feel the pain, you felt yourself give in slowly.

Tears slipped down your cheeks and you took a step away from him, dropping the gun on the ground in front of you. Gally didn't even waist a second, his eyes connecting with yours as he got up and off the ground, and making his way towards your form.

You gasped when he grabbed you and pulled you into his warm arms. And as he wrapped his arms around you, he could feel you trembling against him, your body shaking with the weight of all the emotions coursing through you. He held you close, his embrace a shelter from the storm of doubt and fear that had plagued you both during your time apart.

Your arms wound tightly around his neck, fingers clutching at the fabric of his uniform as if afraid he might slip away once more. He could feel the dampness of your tears soaking into his shirt.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the passing of time, nor the trials you had faced while you were apart. All that mattered in this moment was the warmth of your bodies pressed together, the rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

And as you held each other, lost in the sweet embrace of reunion, the world faded away around you, leaving only the echo of your love reverberating through the empty spaces between you. It was a moment frozen in time, a testament to the enduring power of your connection, and a promise of the future you would build together, one tender embrace at a time.

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semicolonsspace · 4 months

Text

Him (your favorite) (Stiles//Dylan O'Brien)

No use of names. Just pet names and Y/n.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Roleplay, unprotected sex, edging, begging, praise kink, degradation kink, Bondage (use of handcuffs), breeding kink, stretch kink(?), mommy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace.

"Honey, I'm home," he yells as he shuts the door. He would always do this, he would always say it's 'hilarious'. Y/n found it humorous so soon after they made it a thing she started doing it as well. But except she put her spin onto it, talking like a 1940s housewife that just got back running errands.

Y/n rounds the corner to the front door. She was wearing his favorite, his T-shirt and shorts— or at least he thought she was wearing some; She wasn't. She was doing errands around the house in his shirt—Which mostly consisted of organizing the new room they had just renovated— more like Y/n renovated because she wanted it to be perfect!

"Hello, dear," she says in her housewife's voice. He laughs at her and pulls her in by the hips to kiss her. His hands snaked under the shirt she wore and slapped her ass when he realized she was only wearing underwear and his shirt. "You tryna kill me today?" He asks in a guttural groan. Her forehead rested on his as she smiled lovingly at her boyfriend of two wonderful years. "Not currently."

He gave her a playful shrewd look. "I think I'm already dead, then," he hums suggestively as he pulls hair out of her face, then resting his hand to cup it. His soft touch sent a chill down her spine as she stared up at him with lust that was masked by playfulness. "Oh, yeah?" She starts as she bats her eyelashes. "Well, I guess I might have to resurrect you."

He looked intrigued by her choice of words, choosing a decision for himself he indulged her humorous antics. "How so?"

"By laying you on my sacrificial altar bed and extracting your life force fluids," she jokingly purrs at him. That seemed good enough for him because he slung her body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As he walked he shreaded his layers then threw her on their bed.

Y/n scolded him for being so careless, as she almost hit her head on the metal bed frame. She pulls him down, and pulls his shirt off effortlessly—as she had done it so many times before due to the numerous times of "catching up sex" they had due to his work. She pins his pale buffed arms to the mattress while speaking. "Now, baby. Don't you remember how I said 'I' have to extract some fluids?"

He looks up at her and smirks. He decided to indulge her roleplay and started improvising lines. "Please, don't hurt me— I'll be good— you said you needed fluids, take my spit anything but my blood!" He whined with feigning horror. But she knew he was aroused, she could feel it— feel his 7-inch cock pressing— begging to be drained by her— and if he was lucky he could have her cunt to grip her tight.

Y/n chuckles darkly, something he thought was too authentic to be in their present roleplay. "I never specified which fluid I needed, dummy."

His eyes widened when he 'realized' what she meant. "By all means, go ahead— just don't kill me— please—" he begged once more. Y/n plants a soft kiss on his pointed elf-like nose as if saying 'good.'

That led to having him cuffed to the bed for hours. Her hand wrapped around his cock— jerking it just to stop before he would release. She wanted him to explode when he did so. And she wanted it to be inside of her. She wanted to feel the familiarity of the thick warm liquid rife her up just for it to enter her cervix. She was on the pill, plus she had a few boxes of plan B she liked to keep a stack of.

"Mama! Please! Just let me cum! I'll be good!" He screams, fake tears streaming from his eyes. Some of them were genuine tears from how delicious the pleasure was.

"Will you be my little ingredient holder?" She tilted her head as she spoke, speaking in the most condescending tone she could muster. "I need lots of human sperm to make my potions, would you like that? For me to milk you dry every day?"

He lets out a guttural groan that she didn't think was part of the roleplay. This was purely him. He was enjoying every bit of this, lapping up all the attention his girlfriend gave her.

The last statement was proved by his hips thrusting into her hips in an attempt to chase his orgasm. She stops and rubs his stomach. "How many times was that? 6 times? 6 potential orgasms just for me to stop... That makes me powerful don't you think? To have the ability to stop you from doing something your body chases? It's okay though, you'll get it soon."

Then her cunt was hovering over his red cock that was tortured for the last 2 hours. He nodded eagerly as he babbled how much he needed her to finish him off— to give her the "ingredient" she needed. She sat on him, wincing at how big he was, Every time she had him in her at first she would always be shocked by how much he stretched her fluttering walls.

"Going to be the best ingredient ever— make the strongest potion," she praises, continuing their little roleplay. He didn't seem to be acting anymore due to the immense pleasure, mostly just him begging for mercy for her to finish him off finally.

"For fucks sake— please just ride me, mama— need it," he whines, actual tears falling down his face. He was ruined— disheveled. And she felt glorious; she had done that. She had made him feel so divine just for her to deny his unholy release six whole times.

Y/n clicks her tongue and slaps his chest slightly, before reaching back and squeezing his balls. By his reaction she knew it was painful from how much he groaned— a different type of groan— he needed that release and she was just toying with him— She had been toying with him this whole time. "Next time you won't finish. I may need the ingredient but I can always use other fluids," she warns darkly.

He seemed to get that she was still roleplaying and nodded, breathing a sorry that was soon sucked in as she started hopping on him, his dick curve hitting her spot every time she sheathed onto him.

Her hands rested on his pecs before finding his nipples and tugging on them harshly. "Pretty boy looks so good fucked out for me," she whispers into his ear, her one hand caressing his sweaty hair. "Only for you." His eyes flutter, his mouth staying open. She kissed him— now instead of hopping, she was rocking into him, which seemed more sensual to them as they moaned in sync, telling each other they loved each other, completely forgetting about the roleplay. Now it was just the couple of two years that have lived with each other for eleven months.

Y/n reaches for the cuffs and he shakes his head while begging a no. "Keep them on, please," he moans.

Her mouth forms a smile before opening from the pleasure. She gets an idea so they both have what they want. "Wanna feel you touch me," she says uncuffing one singular cuff. His hand immediately finds her hip while his hips thrust into her—seeming like he was trying to gain control.

"Fucking being a brat for not letting me cum, baby," he groans as he pinches her nipple. She smiles at him before kissing his neck. "Good," she whispers, before unlatching the other cuff. Then she was flipped on her stomach, her ass in the air, her face buried in the mattresses as he plunged his abused cock into her. "Oh, you feel so good—way better than your hand, that's for damn sure," he murmurs breathily. Y/n was clawing at the mattress, bratty almost pornographic moans being muffled into the light grey satin sheets.

She lifts her head finally, positioning her body to arch, her elbows propping her up as he continued to rail her pussy into oblivion. "Cum in me— wanna feel you-"

He cuts her off before she continues with a humorous moaning chuckle. "Trust me, I'm gonna fucking milk every fuckin' drop inside this pussy, gonna stuff it full so you can carry my baby," he growls, making his thrust harder to punch— not kiss— her cervix. She squeals as a sudden wave of intense pleasure knocks her out. Her vision faded black and he coaxed her, his thrust becoming sloppy before he stilled in her. He doubles over from the climax, whispering praises into her ear. "S'good, I love you so much, honey," was all she could make out.

She thought he was the one who was going to be exhausted but he kept going, his cock continuing to piston inside of her for round two. She was more than okay with it, letting him use her just how he wanted; he deserved it.

By the time he stuffs her brim full with a second orgasm, she is on her back. The cum oozed out of her cunt as he pestered wet-sloppy and open-mouth kisses all over her neck and chest. She was bound to have marks all over her in the morning. "Look at that, baby," he says as he plays with his release around the hole. He was still inside, his finger lapping up the release and stuffing it back into her.

"Fuck, don't do that, or we're doing a round three," y/n squeals. He smiles cheekily at her and stuffs his finger into her again.

His cock and his finger were both inside, stretching her to limits she never thought she would be able to with him. Then he starts thrusting slowly, his vacant hand holding her ankle in the air so he can have maximum access to his favorite toy.

"We need to get those ankle holders like hospitals have so I can fuck you better," he says between grunts. "Or a fuck machine so I can get payback."

At the mention of the machine, she screams, especially because he removes his finger and presses it onto her stomach. "Scream for me again, baby: tell the whole fuckin' neighborhood I'm breeding my little whore again."

And she did, she couldn't take his rough thrust with his hand pushing on her stomach, it made her tighter— sensitive. But she could not bring herself to stop such amazing pleasure.

His stamina never seemed to shock Y/n. It did at first, having to beg her to eat her out. She let him, barely saying no simply because it was a win-win. He would always say "I get pleasure from eating my girl out, I don't need anything else." Which she loved, it almost became a love language for him to do so. While she answer emails for her stay-at-home job—when he was home that is— he would rarely pass an opportunity to either 1: eat her out or two: fuck her while she worked— and trust the universe, he made sure she would take it while working whatever she did on her computer.

He soon got tired of the position and pulled her by her thighs, manhandling her and flipping her back on her stomach. Y/n pushed herself down the bed, her feet touching the ground in front of him. He pushed himself back in, his hands grabbing her hips so he could pull her back onto him repeatedly. His thrust was a little harder, exactly how she wanted right now, making loud pleasured moans to leave her lips— along with many praise for him for how good he made her feel.

She then pushes herself off, causing them both to stand, he gets the hint and pulls her close, grabbing by the throat to choke her. Her vision fades a bit, from the pleasure of his cock hitting her cervix and his slender hand stifling air from her throat. "I love you, honey. 'Missed you at work; 'Could only think of my beautiful girl all alone at home," he says between moans. "My good fucking girl," he growls as he moves her hair from her face just to return to her throat. His thrust never faltered either, his words, and admiration, all pushing her over the edge so hard she went limp. "Did I fuck you too dumb, baby? Awe, my poor baby." He then pushes her face back into the mattress, spreading her cheeks to gain better access to his cock moving into her pussy repeatedly. "Take me so well," he groans, massaging the fatty flesh of her rump.

Y/n was too far into subspace to talk. She could barely even comprehend his dirty words, plus the painful pleasure she had from overstimulation of her recent orgasm was going straight to her head.

He continues to fuck her, eventually picking her back up and carrying her to the bathroom—while fucking her. Her arms wrap around his shoulder lazily, his hands steadily gripping her ass to push her onto his cock repeatedly. He lays her down in the huge circle bathtub, turning the water on and continuing his work to chase his own orgasm. "Baby, fucking love you and your pussy, both of my girls make me so happy," he then doubles over, his face going for her neck, stifled whimpers escaping his mouth traveling from her neck to her ears.

Y/n holds him, her hands rubbing his back as he finishes for the third time inside of her. "I love you too, dear," she whispers. He whimpers causing her to chuckle. "Too sensitive?" She asks, feeling his dick twitch inside of her. He nods into her and she splashes water onto his body. "You wanna take a nap in the bathtub?"

He moves his face to look at her with a dumbfounded expression. "Honey, as much as I love being in your embrace, I don't want to risk you drowning."

174 notes · View notes

crazysheeplyca · 1 year

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Gally following Y/n : Y/n come back here I am trying to have a shucking serious conversation with you!

Y/n walking faster : And I am trying to avoid it !

Newt looking at them : Alby how do you you manage to have a serious and peaceful talk with them ?

Alby sipping on his drink : Bold of you to assume I'm leaving them any choice

903 notes · View notes

arcadian-litterateur · 3 months

Text

sick of kissing you in my head (when can it be real instead?) | modern au!gally x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: your boyfriend, gally, is across the country, and despite the struggles a long distance relationship can bring, your love is strong enough to carry you through the long distance season of your relationship. but spending your birthday without him is different than spending normal days separated, and you know deep down that nothing will make you happy on your birthday when he’s all you need.

word count: 8k holy—i really didn’t even realize how long this was till i checked the wc omg

warnings: emotional meltdown, mention of anxiety and anxiety meds, brief mention of panic attacks

a/n: hey guys! i love love love the song this is based off of: all i need (the distance song) by avery lynch. it's such a good song. this was supposed to just be fluff about visiting your bf gally, and then it turned into a whole thing lol. so yeah, i hope you guys enjoy this long ass one shot. i really really enjoyed writing it.

“𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥.”

𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 onto my side, legs brushing against my sheets, I smile at the FaceTime call on my phone, but it's bittersweet. On the other end of the video call sits my boyfriend, the soft smile on his face mirroring my own. From where he sits, I can see the San Francisco skyline out his hotel window, highlighted by the rising sun.

“I miss you,” I mumble, studying the lines and contours of his face and wondering if they've changed since the last time I saw him in person. If I've missed any change; any detail while we've been separated. If anything has changed or tipped the balance since we've been apart.

I'm not insecure in my relationship with Gally, but be long distance for enough time and everyone gets in their head about it. Catches themselves wondering; doubting.

“I miss you more every time we have to part,” I add, watching the bitter take over the sweet in my boyfriend's eyes for a few seconds before he replies.

“I know, baby, I know.” His gaze wanders into the space between the atoms, his mind leaping forward into the future as he assures both me and himself, “Once my contract with WCKD Enterprises is up, I'll be able to move back to Denver. We'll be back in the same city.”

My smile is tired, only half there, and Gally knows it. It's been months since I've held him in my arms. This long distance routine is wearing us both out. We're both running out of steam—not for each other; not for our relationship, but for the complexity that being long distance has brought to our relationship. Conflicting schedules, spotty internet, the deprivation of physical contact with the person we crave it from the most…it's all beginning to pile up, and we both know it.

In an attempt to change the subject, I ask, “When is your flight back to Chicago again?” I already know, but I'm not sure what else to say, and besides, it's always good to check.

“Your birthday,” comes the cheeky reply, my eyes rolling of their own accord as I secretly admire the handsome grin on my boyfriend's face. But all too soon, his grin fades.

“I'm sorry I can't be there for your birthday,” he says gently. I wave him off, assuring him that I'll be just fine.

“Bren, Tes, and Sony are planning something. Won't tell me what, though.” I sigh before admitting, “It won't be the same without you. But your work's important.” Gally smiles gratefully, but there's cracks in the smile, and my stomach sinks. Guilt over my last comment settles in my digestive tract. “Sorry,” I mumble.

“No, no, don't apologize,’’ Gally says quickly. “You're allowed to be sad that I can't be there.” His amiable grin morphs into a scowl, “Tried to get Janson to give me the time off, I really did. But that rat wouldn't do it.” I give Gally what I hope is a reassuring smile.

“It's okay, babe.” We fall into silence, not necessarily comfortable, but not bad either, before Gally interjects,

“It'll be nice to be in my own apartment, though. I'm getting sick of all these Californian hotels. I'll be glad to be home, smog and noisy L-trains galore.” I chuckle, knowing that Gally loves Chicago because of its quirks, not in spite of them.

Still, Denver has always been home to me. But Gally and I've decided to cross that bridge when we get to it. We've got enough to think about as it is.

I'm trying to come up with another conversation topic, since I don't have work until later today, but unfortunately, Gally isn't so lucky. It’s the perks of working from home as a crisis hotline counselor, I guess. The hours aren’t as demanding, since the work itself is.

“Shoot, I have to go,” he hisses. “I'm sorry, princess. I'll call you tonight?” I nod, forcing myself to look forward to tonight's call, rather than be sad that this one is ending. “Alright, good that,” Gally grins. “I love you, babe!”

“I love you, Gal,” I smile and wave goodbye. The half-baked grin melts right off my face once he's hung up. Gosh, I miss him so much.

There's only so much comfort a video call can give.

Teresa calls me soon after Gally hangs up, blabbering on and on about a date she'd had with some guy named Ben, but I can't focus on her stories like I normally would. Usually, I'm all in to hear my friend's tales, but my mind is still fixated on the miles separating Gally and I. Something in me wonders how much longer we'll be able to go without holding each other. How much longer we can stand to be separated.

When we first started dating, I could have gone months, as long as we were still interacting. But as my love for Gally increased, the length of time I could stand to be without him decreased.

I'm fully, unashamedly in love with Gally now, and part of me wonders what I would do to be living in the same place as him. To be in his arms for good. The easy answer—the most raw answer—is anything. I'd do anything for him.

“(Y/N)?” Teresa's voice brings me out of my thoughts, her suspicious tone confirming that she's noticed my lack of focus today. “You weren't listening, were you?” To an outsider, her tone might sound harsh; reproachful, even, but I know her too well. She's not mad. Just annoyed she'll have to repeat her story if she wants me to hear it.

“I'm sorry,” I mumble, and it's sincere. I am sorry that I lost focus. But I don't apologize for pining after my faraway boyfriend. There's no reason to, for one, and two, I won't ever apologize for thinking of him. For missing him.

Teresa is grinning at my distracted tone, I can tell. Even through the phone, I can tell. “You're good. Dreaming about your bae, aren't you?”

I don't hesitate to admit, “Yes. I miss him more than I thought was even possible.” I hear Teresa's hum from the other end of the phone.

“You need to see him,” she declares. I scoff.

“Believe me, I know, and we're trying to figure out when he can next visit, but we're both just so busy.” Teresa clucks her tongue, the sound distorting oddly through the phone speaker. I imagine it running across the telephone poles, through the wires, twisting and bending and knotting out of shape as it flies all the way to me.

“I didn't mean like that, (Y/N). You need to go see him.” I chuckle, I wish I could.

“He's busy, Tes. Besides, he isn't even in Chicago right now,” I reason. This doesn't deter her.

“Well, when will he next be in Chicago?”

“His flight's on my birthday.”

“That's perfect!” Teresa squeals.

“How is that perfect?” I huff.

“You can fly out and spend your birthday with him! Surprise him!”

I actually laugh at this. “Um, no, I can't. I don't have the kind of money to just throw down for plane tickets. Besides, weren't you, Brenda, and Sonya planning something?”

“Well, yeah, but we could always change plans if we needed to,” Teresa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. On any other day, I would entertain this kind of silly daydreaming, but today, I already felt lonely enough.

“Sorry, Tes. Those spontaneous decisions are not my cup of tea,” I sigh, and I think she can tell I'm shutting the conversation down. She lets it go, and I thank her silently, forcing the ache in my heart left by Gally's absence to venture to the back of my mind. If I waste the day away, it'll be evening again, and then he'll call, just like he said.

And so despite the fact that I know wasting the days away is bad for me, I do it anyway. Just today, I tell myself. Just today.

Of course, I know I'll do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and all the hours in between my calls with Gally. It's ridiculous, how they all say having space helps one think clearer, when having space just distracts me by making me miss him that much more.

When he's gone, I'm reminded that much more that he's all I need.

_______________________________

𝗜𝗧’𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 p.m. by the time Gally calls, his eyes lighting up when he sees me despite the exhausted, burnt out look on his face. I'm equally as ecstatic as he is to revel in the gaze of my lover, both of us simply brushing every inch of each other's faces with our eyes, memorizing each other for the millionth time. It won't be the last time, either. I could never get tired of scanning my gaze across his skin, memorizing every inch of his beautiful face.

In our current situation, it's the closest I can get to kissing every inch of his beautiful face.

Gally is the first to break the silence, and I'm okay with it. He's the one who's had a long day. He knows what he needs to talk or not talk about. I just love hearing his voice.

“How was your day, baby?” he asks, a tired sort of happiness seeping into his voice. Like I'm giving him some kind of rest just by smiling at him.

“It was good. Uneventful.” I shrug, knowing that I'd barely moved from the chair I occupied now. “The real question is, how was your day, my love?”

Gally grins at the pet name. He always does. It's the same reaction that I have whenever he uses terms of endearment on me. It's our own personal love language of sorts. How many different ways can I call you mine?

“My day was okay,” Gally says quietly, sighing when he sees the look on my face. The one that tells him to lay it on me; rant if it'll make him sleep better tonight. “Well, it was…mediocre,” he amends, running a hand through his short hair. “Tim was being an ass. As always.” I nod sympathetically, understanding the deep hatred he harbors for his coworker.

Why Gally doesn't like Tim, I'm not exactly sure, but I know it has something to do with taking credit for a project that Gally did all the work on. It resulted in a harsh lecture from their boss for Gally, who was presumed to have slacked off, and a promotion for Tim.

Anyone who knows Gally knows that he would never slack off. He takes duty and work seriously; more seriously than anyone else I've met, in fact. I know my boy. He wouldn't hurt his company's productivity, even if his boss is an asshole like Janson.

“I'm sorry Tim was giving you trouble, baby,” I croon, watching the aches and tension of the day seeping out of his stiff shoulders at the sound of my voice. His smile weaves its way back onto his face. It's a soft, vulnerable smile, the one that makes me want to take him in my arms and just hold him like the precious treasure he is.

“I wish I could hug you,” Gally groans, rubbing his chin with his fingers before trying to regain his composure. “Sorry…I don't mean to bring everything up again. I just…I just miss you.” My comforting smile wobbles, knowing that those same thoughts are eating away at me inside, but I bring the happy thoughts back to the surface and my grin rights itself.

“Soon, love, soon,” I murmur, knowing I can't truly promise anything with how busy our lives have become. But soon doesn't have a time slot or expiration date. I can promise soon and define it later. All I know is that it brings a smile to my boy's face, and that's what I need right now.

We spend the rest of the night talking, lifted by the promise of Soon, love, soon, knowing that it could very well mean a long, long time.

_______________________________

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 in my bedroom window, blinding me when my eyes flicker open. But once I blink away the black spots in my vision, I see that the sunlight isn't the only reason I was pulled from the comforting arms of sleep.

Brenda, Teresa, and Sonya are standing at my bedside, my sheets in a bunched up ball in Sonya's hands. I groan, trying to roll away, but Bren, ever the fearless one, grabs my shoulder and pulls me back to face them.

“Get up, (Y/N). No spending the day moping,” she orders. I heave out an exaggerated sigh, making my body intentionally limp as Brenda and Teresa each grab one of my arms, pulling me upright until I have to support my own weight.

“Sometimes I really regret giving you guys my apartment passcode,” I comment, leading Sonya to pinch my arm. I yelp, rubbing the red mark as I get manhandled out of my pajamas and into a new outfit by my best friends. “What—what are you crazies doing?” I splutter, quickly taking the pair of jeans from Teresa's hands before she can try to shove them on my legs, opting to put them on myself.

“We aren't letting you mope around until Gally visits. Who knows how long that would be? It's not healthy,” Sonya explains, linking an arm through mine as the three girls drag me to the bathroom. Brenda shoves my toothpaste-loaded toothbrush into my hand as Tes starts pulling my hair brush through my hair.

“Ow,” I complain around a mouthful of toothpaste suds, pulling away from Teresa's assault on my tender scalp momentarily to spit. She and Sonya make quick work of my slightly frizzy hair, tag teaming it to create a fun yet elegant braid.

“Beautiful,” Sonya sighs, leaning back to admire her handiwork. Brenda, on the other hand, seems to have some kind of mental checklist, full of all the tasks she must see me complete.

“Breakfast is next,” she commands, and I find myself being pulled into my kitchen, watching helplessly as my friends dive into making us a scrumptious, sugary feast.

I have to admit, the fluffy blueberry pancakes filling my stomach certainly make venturing out into the world much easier than I expected. I only feel the need to text Gally three times before leaving my apartment with my friends, rather than the usual five to ten. Whether these texts are to let him know I'm fine or to make sure he's fine, I've never been able to figure out. Maybe they're both. Either way, it's a good thing Brenda shoved my meds into my hand before breakfast.

When I'm here alone, I don't take them. Sometimes I skip them on purpose, sometimes I just forget. But either way, I don't take my anxiety meds unless Brenda is there to shove them down my throat. Thinking about it, I'm grateful she's here to force me to take them today. With all of these mixed up feelings about being separated from Gally for so long, having more control over my anxiety will be good.

A day shopping with my best friends is a good distraction from the painful loneliness I've been feeling without Gally. It's not exactly a cure, but it's close. My friends know this; know their own limitations, and so they do the best they can.

And I'm so grateful that they've put in the time. Put in the effort. All for me.

“Thank you,” I whisper to them as we sit in our favorite coffee shop, sipping oat milk lattes.

“Of course,” Brenda immediately responds.

“We love you,” Sonya adds.

“We know we aren't your boy,” Teresa chimes in, “but we're your best friends, and that means we stick by you. No matter what.” She leans over to rub my arm. “When you're down, I'm down. We wanted to help pick you back up.”

The smile on my face is genuine for the first time in a long time, knowing that my friends love me enough to support me despite having the knowledge that they can't give me everything I need. They give what they can, and accept me when it doesn't fix everything.

I haven't always had friends this good, and I look up at the sky, thanking the heavens that I've been blessed with such good friends now.

_______________________________

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 before my birthday, I can’t get Teresa’s half-joking, hare-brained idea out of my head. Realistically, I know that the likelihood that I could find a flight on my birthday to Chicago that isn’t full (or way too expensive) is slim. Realistically, I know that I don’t have the money for plane tickets right now. Realistically, I know that flying halfway across the country on a whim to see my boyfriend is ridiculous.

But when Gally sends me his flight information, knowing I like to watch his progress and get confirmation when he lands safely, I find myself checking flights from Denver to Chicago, telling myself it’s just out of curiosity. Because what if there is a flight to Denver from Chicago on my birthday? What if there is a possibility that I could see Gally on my birthday? What if there is a chance that I could have this gift; the only one I truly want?

If there’s even a chance to see Gally on my birthday, I want to know.

Gally’s flight information is pulled up on my phone, which is next to me on my desk as I scroll through flights on my laptop. My right thumbnail is between my teeth, bitten down to the quick and then some. It seems that flying is a popular travel option right now, as flights are filled even into places like Dawson County, Montana. Every flight I find from Denver to Chicago is either full or too expensive for someone just out of college, like me. The cheapest is $374, and I know rationally that blowing through that much money would be devastating for my finances.

I swear under my breath, angry at myself for even getting my hopes up. It was a stupid idea to check the flights, and I find myself wishing I could go back in time to stop myself from looking. The disappointment grows even larger knowing that there would be a way to get to him if I wasn’t a broke post-college student making minimum wage in the Mile-High City. Then the disappointment and anger melt away, leaving me with a heart wrenching sadness that feels so empty and yet so all-consuming that I can’t help but break down into tears.

I don’t want to let myself cry about a silly daydream that was unlikely to happen anyway, but I’d let myself entertain the thought of seeing Gally soon; of holding him close and kissing him until we couldn’t breathe, and now everything else seemed pale in comparison. It wasn’t that my life had no purpose outside of him—I’d made it very clear when we started dating that the two of us needed to make sure we had lives outside of our relationship, too. But Gally had become a part of me; my favorite part of me, in fact. I was perfectly happy with the life I had, but Gally made it even sweeter. And knowing that sweetness was mine but was inaccessible made the absence of it even more palpable. Even more unbearable.

Crumpled into a heap on my floor with tears slowly leaking from my eyes is how Teresa finds me when she opens my door fifteen minutes later. “Hey, girl—” she calls before seeing me, rushing to my side with a worried, “Oh, my gosh, what’s wrong, (Y/N)?” I just shake my head, the waterworks turning back up to full blast.

“I miss him so much,” I sob as she gathers me in her arms, unable to care that I sound pathetic.

“Oh, I know, darling, I know,” Teresa coos, rocking back and forth with my shaking body, whispering comforting words into my ears just like she always does when I get so worked up. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, hand flying up to wipe the snot from my nose, but of course, the minute it’s gone, more replaces it. I’m past the point of an easy calm-down, instead finding myself close to the edge of hyperventilating. Thankfully, Teresa isn’t a stranger to my emotional meltdowns, and she isn’t afraid of them, either. Instead, she’s the kind of friend who will take my hand and guide me through it.

“Did you take your meds this morning?” she asks cautiously, to which I shake my head in embarrassment. Tears are still pooling in the corners of my eyes as I manage to get out,

“I’m sorry.”

Teresa just shushes me calmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s in the past now. I just wanted to know.” I nod shakily, the soothing pressure of her hand rubbing my arm helping me steady my breaths slightly. “What set you off?” she queries, squeezing me a bit tighter when the tears speed up again.

“I—I decided to check the flights for my birthday,” I answer, sniffling as my best friend strokes my hair lovingly. “It was stupid, because it just made me upset. They’re all too expensive, and I knew they would be, and it just made me miss him so much more.” Admitting it out loud makes me feel even dumber, the guilt creeping into my stomach. “I did this to myself,” I mumble. Subconsciously, my nails find their way to my arms, digging into the delicate skin and leaving pink crescents behind. Teresa pulls my hands away from my arms quickly.

“Stop blaming yourself. You did nothing wrong. I would’ve done the same, (Y/N).” I know she’s trying to comfort me, but I just squeeze my eyes shut.

“Yeah, and it wouldn’t have caused you to end up on the floor like a pathetic child.”

“(Y/N)! Stop!” Teresa scolds me. “Stop with the negative self-talk.” I try to protest, but she fixes me with that no-nonsense look that can get anyone to agree to anything, and I find myself nodding meekly. “None of this is your fault. You’re in a difficult situation, being separated from your boyfriend, and your heart isn’t sure how to handle it. That’s okay. You don’t have to know how to handle it perfectly yet.” I sigh, leaning into my best friend’s shoulder, feeling slightly calmer now. She always knows the right words to say when I’m in too deep to think straight.

Teresa coaxes me into the kitchen to drink hot chocolate once my breathing has steadied somewhat. She’s looking at me with an odd look that I can’t quite place, as if she’s…proud of me?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask warily over the top of my steaming mug. My best friend grins, staring at me for a couple more seconds before replying,

“You’re just, like, the strongest person I know.” My face turns what I assume is beet red at the compliment, not expecting such high praise from the woman who just held me in her arms as I sobbed like a baby. But then again, Teresa is special. She doesn’t judge based on outward appearances or impressions. She can see right into the heart of people, as if she can sense their goodness; their potential, and then she nudges them down that path. Helping them choose the sunshine. The good side. The light.

Knowing her compliment is slightly overwhelming, Teresa shrugs and changes the subject so fast I think I get whiplash. “You should call Gally,” she suggests. “Tell him that you were missing him and ask him for some love.” I cringe, turning away from her.

“I don’t want to make him feel bad that he isn’t here. I think I’ve already done that too much this week.”

Teresa scoffs, “That’s nonsense. He’ll be happy that you reached out to him after your meltdown. He’ll be touched that you wanted to let him know how you’re doing. He’ll feel honored that you’re willing to be vulnerable with him.” I know deep down that she’s right; that the only thing he’d do is make me feel better. Never after calling Gally do I feel worse. I know I’m just scared to hurt him, but he always assures me that I don’t need to harbor that fear. I don’t need to hold onto that anxious voice in my head that whispers, You don’t deserve him.

I can even imagine him next to me if I try hard enough, murmuring, “You’re perfect, baby,” when I grow insecure. Whispering, “I’m so lucky to have you” in my ear when I doubt myself.

“Okay,” I agree, letting Teresa take my phone and FaceTime him. Despite the fact that it’s the middle of the work day, Gally picks up on the first ring, a concerned look decorating his handsome face.

“Teresa? Wha—”

“She’s fine!” Teresa rushes to assure him, motioning for me to join her on the couch. I pop my head into the frame, wincing as I see how swollen and puffy my face is. Gally’s forehead immediately creases upon seeing me, obviously still worried when he sees the tear stains on my cheeks.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asks. Teresa silently asks if I want to take the phone, but I shake my head. My hands are still slightly shaky, and holding the phone is an added stressor. Teresa understands and angles the phone towards me.

“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry,” I whisper, my boyfriend’s shoulders relaxing only slightly. “I just had a bit of a meltdown. Teresa found me and helped me calm down.” Gally’s eyebrows soften, his mouth tilting down in a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “What happened?”

“I just miss you,” I mumble sheepishly after a second’s pause. It seems kind of silly once I admit it out loud, and I start to duck my face away when Gally gets my attention.

“Hey, (Y/N), (Y/N),” he says, waiting until I’ve turned back to him before continuing, “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. I miss you, too, okay? I miss you so much. You don’t need to feel ashamed for struggling.” He waits for me to respond, and I nod slightly. Truth be told, just hearing his voice has made me feel better; stronger. There’s something about his comforting, strong tone that soothes me. Just his voice can make me truly believe in myself. I swear, this man could make me believe anything as long as he says it aloud.

“Thank you for picking up,” I smile, finding my mood lightening as a grin finds its way back onto his face. “Seeing you helped.” Gally blushes slightly, rubbing a hand along his chin.

“I’m glad I could help, baby.” Offscreen, someone gruffly commands him to get back to work, and he mutters an apology before turning back to the screen. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. But call me if you need anything, okay?” I nod, trailing my eyes over his freckles one more time as he thanks Teresa for taking care of me and then hangs up.

“It helped?” she asks, as if double-checking to make sure I truly am feeling better.

“Yeah,” I grin sheepishly. “You know what you’re talking about.” With a roll of my eyes, I joke, “You should be a counselor for a living. At this rate, you’re better than me at my own job!” Teresa just laughs.

“Well, now that you’ve cracked a joke, I know you’re feeling better.” She pulls me into a hug, and I gladly return it, silently wondering how I got blessed with such an amazing best friend.

“Hey, I’m here for you,” she reminds me one more time as she leaves, her meticulous check-ins a promise for the next few days.

“I know,” I assure her. “I promise I’ll call if I need to.”

“Good,” she says, smiling as she waves. “I love you, babes!”

“I love you, too, Tes!” Feeling a bit lighter, I wave back as I close my front door.

_______________________________

“𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗡’𝗧—I can’t take this,” I stutter the next day, wide-eyed at the wad of cash Teresa is currently shoving into my hands. Brenda and Sonya are flanking her on either side with looks that imply they’re attempting to telepathically convince me to take the money.

“Yes, you can,” Teresa sighs exasperatedly. “Like I already told you, it’s the money we were going to spend on your celebration pooled together. But we all know you’d rather spend your birthday with Gally, and we want you to be able to, so we’re giving you the money for that plane ticket you couldn’t afford. It would be a waste to throw you a party you don’t want to be at. Helping you see your boyfriend is a much better use of that money. We all agreed.” Brenda and Sonya both nod, Teresa shoving the cash even further into my palms. I take it shakily, counting silently as I gape at them. “But—but this is nine hundred bucks! I can’t—I can’t take this, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry!” Brenda sighs. “Just take the money! It’s our birthday present for you!” I look back and forth between my three best friends, realizing that there is no way they’re letting me reject the money. But it feels so weird having this many fifties weighing heavily in my grasp.

“Please take it,” Sonya says softly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We want you to be able to go see Gally. We want you to enjoy this birthday. You��ll be giving a gift to us by making this impulsive choice to do what makes you happy.” My resistance gets melted away by her words, knowing that this was their tactic all along. Get (Y/N) all toughened up to the ‘just take it’ ruse and then let Sonya slip under her defenses when she least expects it. But I’m not annoyed by it. Instead, I let Teresa close my fist over the cash.

Immediately, the three start cheering, but before I can even blink, they’ve moved on from celebrating and are pushing me towards my laptop where, just as I’m sure Teresa suspected, the flights from Denver to Chicago are still pulled up. Teresa obviously asked Gally to share his flight information with her, because she seems to have it memorized as she scans the flights.

“Alright, here’s the best one,” she announces after a few minutes of looking. “United, nonstop, leaving at 9:30 a.m. MT and arriving at 12:56 p.m. CT. It’s in the same terminal as Gally’s flight, and he lands at 2:23 p.m. CT, so that gives you a little over an hour to get to his gate and wait for him. Sounds good?” I nod wordlessly, still slightly in shock over the way my best friends have handled this so nonchalantly, as if their friend flying across the country on a day’s notice is just a normal part of their lives.

Sonya pulls me towards my room as Brenda takes the stack of cash back from me, mumbling that Teresa insisted they have it for show but was just planning on Venmoing the cash to me. I laugh at our friend’s antics before following an impatient Sonya, who grabs my suitcase from my closet and starts making a list of what I should pack.

“We’re not buying you a return flight,” she explains, “because we didn’t know how long you’d want to stay, and we figured you didn’t know either. Just bring your work stuff and you can work from Gally’s apartment, and use the rest of the money to buy a return ticket when you decide to come back.” I shake my head in awe at the schemes of my friends, who have obviously thought of every single anxiety I could have because of this plan and have set out to refute them.

With Sonya helping me pack, a task that would usually take me at least three hours, two cups of coffee, and a panic attack is done in under one hour, no coffee or panic attacks in sight. While I wouldn’t have minded the coffee, the no panic attack part is nice, and I decide I can live without those two cups of coffee if it means my peace of mind is intact.

And the next morning when Teresa drops me off at the airport, my medicine taken and an ample breakfast eaten, the nervous butterflies in my stomach don’t feel scary. In fact, they feel almost…exciting. And I feel crazy for doing this; for flying halfway across the country to surprise my boyfriend so I can kiss him on my birthday, but I also feel so alive.

And today, the idea of living doesn’t seem as scary anymore.

_______________________________

𝗔𝗦 𝗜 wait at my gate and sip my Starbucks latte, I answer the countless birthday texts I have already received, smiling at the overflow of love from people I talk to everyday and people I barely even know. It’s funny, knowing that there are people out there who remember my birthday but don’t talk to me otherwise. Some might feel disheartened at the idea, but I just giggle quietly to myself, wondering if I’m going crazy for feeling so lighthearted.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, I think to myself. The adrenaline from doing something so stupid and yet so exciting. Shrugging to myself, I take another large gulp of coffee, finally getting to the text from Gally. I saved it for last, knowing it would be the best one. And sure enough, as I read the message, I feel happy tears pricking my eyes. As always, he’s sweet; sappy, even, but his message also holds the serious intensity that he always has around him. It’s like an aura, telling those around him that he does everything fully and completely, never giving only half of his effort. That intensity is probably why I love reading texts from him over and over. Even if it’s a simple good morning, his texts always seem to scream I love you from between the lines.

I text Gally back, thanking him for the love he’s sent zipping along telephone lines, across the country and all the way to me. I suck the last dregs of liquid from my Starbucks cup, finally accepting that the beverage is gone as the gate attendant calls for Boarding Group 1. I find myself bouncing from foot to foot, realizing once again that I’m really doing this. I can’t bring myself to sit down as I wait for my group to be called, instead standing by the gate’s charging station, fidgeting like I’m about to run the 100 meter dash. By the time I’m boarding, I’m breathing heavily like I just sprinted up Pikes Peak. Whether from nerves or excitement, I can’t really tell, but it’s enough that the flight attendant touches my arm as she checks the cabin.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” I look up in surprise before giving her a quick grin.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous.”

She smiles empathetically. “Is it your first time flying?”

“No. I’m flying out to surprise my boyfriend, and I guess I’m just hoping it all works out like I planned,” I explain.

At this, I receive an even bigger grin from the flight attendant, who thinks that is just—“the most adorable thing ever!” I nod along, unsure whether I’m actually smiling or just masking my anxiety. Either one is a plausible explanation, and I’m pumped so full of adrenaline that all of my emotions currently feel interchangeable.

I spend the entirety of take-off nervously fiddling with the little screen in front of me, trying to distract myself. Once we’re at a constant altitude, the flight attendants offer drinks, and I ask for a ginger ale, my go-to drink on airplanes. It calms me down, the comforting security of it helping me stay rational. Unfortunately, the ginger ale combined with my anxious thoughts cause my bladder to reach its limit quite quickly.

I hate the little bathrooms on airplanes. So loud, so claustrophobic, so turbulent. It’s like trying to pee while in the middle of an earthquake. But my bladder isn’t playing games today, and the last thing I want to do is ignore it and then pee myself. The intrusive thoughts fight to take over as I rush through the motions, washing my hands as quickly as possible, but I stave them off and make it back to my seat in one piece.

The remaining hour until landing is the longest hour of my life.

When we finally touch down and taxi to our gate, all of the tension that has built up inside me feels ready to explode, but I hold it in, knowing that I can let it all out once I see Gally. It’s barely even occurred to me that I’m a year older now—that it’s my birthday—because all I can think about is getting to hold my boy.

I almost trip getting off the plane, too busy checking his flight’s progress and landing gate. His flight is still an hour and thirty minutes out, giving me more than enough time to go to the bathroom, get some food, and wait for him. I pull my suitcase behind me, so glad I decided to take everything in my carry-on, as I’m now realizing that baggage claim is outside the secure area of the airport. I break free from the flow of traffic heading in that direction, redirecting towards the bathroom.

One bathroom trip, makeup refresher, and food court scavenger hunt later, I’m standing against a column at Gally’s gate, drinking my second Starbucks latte of the day. Normally, I wouldn’t let myself indulge like this, but it’s my birthday, so I feel justified. I even treat myself to a slice of sweet bread, too. I’m too anxious to eat a full lunch. Besides, I’m sure Gally will be happy to get lunch on our way back to his apartment. He’s always willing to eat, no matter the time of day.

I’m trying my best not to look suspicious. There’s a flight leaving from this gate after Gally’s flight arrives, so I blend in, but my leg is bouncing nervously and my hands are shaking slightly. I’m a naturally energetic person, but the fidgeting increases exponentially when I’m either excited or nervous. Right now, I’m both.

Thankfully, no one seems to notice me or think I’m behaving weirdly. I’m simply overthinking, like I often do. At least it passes the time. I only have thirty minutes left to wait.

I run back to Starbucks and buy another latte. It’s gone within ten minutes, my anxious energy prompting me to gulp it down like I’m dying of thirst. Then I’m running to the bathroom again, bladder shouting angrily at me for the caffeine abuse I’ve been subjecting it to. It’s unpleasant, but it kills more time.

Ten minutes to go. I’m staring at my phone, Gally’s flight details pulled up, reloading the page over and over in hopes that magically, they’ll teleport and be here instantly. With anyone else, I wouldn’t be this obsessive; impatient, but it’s Gally. I could obsess over Gally for days on end with all the love overflowing from my heart. So I pass three minutes refreshing the page persistently, watching the minutes countdown.

I let out a quiet, barely there gasp when my phone screen tells me he’s landed. I can barely contain my excitement, nervous energy causing me to wiggle my hips like a rhythmically challenged dancer. His plane is on the ground, taxiing over, right to where I’m waiting. He’s going to walk through that gate, and I’m going to see his beautiful face, and I’m going to run and jump into my boyfriend’s arms.

All of a sudden, doubt crashes into me like a fucking tidal wave. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if this is weird, and he’s going to be all awkward about it? What if this was one huge fuck-up? I can feel myself starting to spiral, starting to lose touch with the confidence I’ve been channeling all day. The panic has started to grow, and it surges through my veins, reaching to the tip-top of the cliff that is followed by a plunge off the deep end. Thankfully, though, with only a few minutes to spare before my boyfriend gets off his plane, a little girl in a princess dress bumps into me, hard, causing my knees to buckle and my head to snap out of the spiral it’s in.

I catch myself against the trusty column I’m leaning against, looking down to find a young girl, maybe six, wearing an Elena of Avalor dress-up costume with a stuffed animal that looks like some kind of leopard with bird wings.

“Amity!” her mother scolds her, ordering her to apologize for bumping into me. Amity looks up at me with big, brown doe eyes and a huge, genuine grin.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she chirps. I smile back, making eye contact with her mom, before crouching down to her level and holding out a hand to shake.

“I forgive you. I’m (Y/N). Want to know something?” Amity shakes my hand, grinning widely, before looking at her mom as if to make sure it’s okay to talk to me. Her mom gives a gentle nod, a kindness in her eyes as they meet mine. “Well, Amity, you actually helped me just now. I was feeling super duper nervous and it was making me get shaky and worried. But then you bumped into me, and I saw your smile, and it made me feel a lot better!”

I can tell Amity’s mother is touched, and I make sure to assure her that I’m doing better. That Amity’s little scuffle with my legs was truly helpful. And then Amity and her mom are on their way, Amity’s tight hug and whisper of “You look like a princess” giving me the last boost of confidence I need.

Right as I finish waving goodbye to the adorable little girl, I hear the sounds of passengers starting to come down the jetway. I suck in a sharp breath, making sure my small suitcase and jacket are safe by the column before stepping closer to the junction between gate and jetway, watching passengers closely as they start to trickle into the airport.

It’s no surprise that I can pick Gally out of the crowd immediately after he walks out of the jetway, his head easily peeking over every other passenger. He doesn’t see me at first, focused on trying not to trample the small toddler whose family is trying desperately to get him to behave as they walk in front of my boyfriend.

I wait until he’s right there, just the toddler’s family in front of him, to call his name. “Gally!” His head snaps up, eyes scanning the surrounding area before settling on me, his jaw going slack, falling open in surprise as the toddler’s family quickly moves out of the way.

It’s like we’re living in slow motion, the way I watch Gally’s backpack slide out of his hand and hit the floor with a thump, his look of shock morphing into a state of joyous disbelief, as if he’s not sure he’s truly seeing me. He looks frozen in this state, unable to move towards me, but I don’t care. I’m already running up to him, happy tears gathering in my eyes as I jump into Gally’s arms, my head burying itself in his neck before I lean up to kiss him with all the pent-up love, tension, and nerves that have been coursing through my body all day.

His lips are warm just like they always are, soft and full and inviting as we kiss passionately; shamelessly, right in front of everyone waiting to board their flight. I can’t bring myself to care, anxiety nowhere to be found now that I’m here. In his arms. Held tightly, kept safe, flooded with warmth, just like I’m supposed to be.

He pulls away first, still in shock as he scans my face, as if expecting to find some imperfection that reveals me as a doppelganger. “Baby—” he chokes out, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, my own tears rolling down my cheeks. “Baby, you’re here.” He lets out a giddy, confused laugh, cupping my cheek with his hand as he wipes the remnant saltwater away with his thumb.

“You’re—you’re here. In Chicago,” he repeats, putting my feet back on the floor so I can stand there with my arms around his neck, his other hand coming up to cup my other cheek. “You’re—it’s your birthday!” he says, and I can’t tell if it’s another reason he’s confused I’m here, or if it’s just an observation. Well, probably both, so I just giggle.

“Yes, Gally, it’s my birthday.”

“But—did you—when did you get here?” he asked, bewildered, a lovestruck, excited smile lighting up his whole face. I run my hands through his hair, admiring his gentleness as he cradles my face in his palms.

“An hour and a half ago, I think. I’m not sure the exact timing,” I shrug. He gasps.

“You flew on your birthday?” I give him an odd look.

“Yes…why? Is that illegal or something?” Gally chuckles through the joy-filled tears still drifting down his face every once in a while.

“No, baby. I just thought—most people wouldn’t be willing to fly or even be at an airport on their birthdays. Don’t you have cool stuff to do? Fun people to see?” I shake my head, pulling him as close as I can, our lips hovering inches apart.

“You’re the only person I wanted to see. This is my birthday present.”

Gally’s eyes water even more as he presses his forehead to mine, running his hands through my hair. “Baby, I—” He pulls away to wipe a tear from his eye and then leans back down, pressing a gentle peck to my forehead, “I love you so much.”

“I love you even more, Gally,” I whisper back, staring into his teary eyes with my watery own. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not possible.”

“It is, too,” I giggle, still whispering as I press a kiss to his lips, “and I’m the birthday girl, so you have to let me win the arguments today.”

“Oh, that’s how that works,” Gally laughed, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Well, I suppose I can let you win this one, since you did fly all the way to Chicago on your birthday.”

“Oh, but that was selfish,” I smiled. “I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. It was purely selfish.” Gally just hugged me tighter, pressing kisses to the top of my hair as he admitted quietly,

“Well, I needed to see you, too. I needed to have you in my arms.” I relax into the warmth of my boyfriend’s chest, the material of his hoodie tickling my nose. I endure it because it smells like him, and that makes it the most calming aroma in the world.

“Being in your arms is all I need. You are all I need,” I whisper.

I kiss him again, a loving, sweet kiss, reveling in the presence and taste of my boyfriend, a sense of peace and safety wrapping its warm arms around me.

Nothing else matters in this moment. Not my job, or my life in Denver, or my birthday. All that matters is that I am here, in my boyfriend’s arms. In Gally’s arms.

Right where I’m supposed to be.

the end

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justtorzaplease · 7 months

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Gally's an asshole who picks fights

if you break the rules.

Gally's an asshole who shoved Thomas to the ground

to protect him.

Gally's an asshole who took wrestling with Thomas too far

and gave him his name back.

Gally's an asshole who killed Chuck

while he was stung and out of his mind.

Gally's an asshole, or maybe he isn't, really. He's afraid of change, of putting people in danger. He's afraid of people going into the maze and getting themselves hurt. He's afraid that if they forget about the rules, nothing will save them.

Greenies are always scared, angry confused. And Gally's an asshole who doesn't know how else to help. So he lets them take it out on him.

#maze runner #tmr #the maze runner gally #analysis #gally tmr #gally maze runner #tmr gally #gally #tmr fandom #movie tmr #movie version

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harper-hook · 2 years

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Gally NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is not a talker after sex. He knows what you want and need, whether you prefer to be cleaned up right away or if you would rather be cuddle and comforted first. Either way, he is going to pull you close and not let go for a while.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of their partner’s)

His hands are big and rough from building all day so he has an affinity for his partner’s hands, how they’re a different size than his and how perfect they fit in his. Also your neck.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s not going to finish inside of you but if you’re into it, he’ll finish in your mouth. If not, will definitely finish on your stomach or back.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

If you call him “Captain” or even “Sir”, you better be prepared. Like that lights the fire in him and he will drag you away in front of everybody.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Like most of the boys, he has little experience but he is a very quick learner. He would put his partner’s pleasure above his own.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He is a missionary man or he’ll put you against the wall. He won’t ask you to get into a certain position, he is strong and will put you in that position.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In the moment, he is serious because he gets nervous especially the first few times. It’s up to his partner to bring him back to reality and that more than anything, it’s about having fun.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He really wouldn’t think or care about his body hair unless you said or acted like you didn’t like it. Then he would trim it a bit.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is romantic but in a different way. He’s holding you as close as possible and taking time to trace your figure in an appreciative way like you’re a piece of art.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Ever since his partner came into the picture, he prefers them over just jacking off but it is inevitable that they are going to be too busy when he gets in the mood. He just makes it as quick as possible, thinking of his partner and what he’s going to do to them when he has the chance.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise (receiving and giving)

He will call you “Good” when you do what he asks, even outside of sex because he knows it short circuits your brain. He likes whispering it in your ear and watching you immediately fumble whatever your doing.

He also likes being praised on his skill and hearing how good he is making you feel.

Choking (giving)

He would be the possessive type to walk up behind you when you’re talking to someone and pull you back for a kiss by putting his hand on your throat. He’s careful about his strength during sex though so most of the time, it’s just a hand around your throat.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He would take you to the storage room in the name of “not being able to find nails” or whatever. Everyone pretends not to know what/who goes down in there.

The deadheads are a secondary option. Sure it’s kinda creepy and dark but it is quiet and secluded.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He likes a sassy partner that gives him hell but turns around and agrees with him and listens to him. It’s a double sided coin that makes his head spin in the best way.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He is very possessive so anything where the other boys would catch you in the act is a no.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s very dominant but the closest he gets to letting his partner take control is when he gets head. He can’t help it especially, you just take him so good and he makes sure to let you know with a firm but gentle hand on your head.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He has a slower pace but with deep thrusts that drives his partner crazy. It leaves him with better opportunity to kiss and stroke you up and down. He gets rougher the closer he is to cumming.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan. Nope. He’s got a routine that he likes to follow when it comes to sex and he can’t fit it into a quickie. All a quickie would do for him is leave him more temperamental and frustrated.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I feel he takes risks relatively often. Like there is certain things his partner does that makes his brain feel funny like if they jokingly call him captain or sir, he will explore it in the future.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He usually only lasts for one or two rounds but those rounds are long and last for over an hour. This is why he can’t do quickies.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

His partner is going to have to be upfront because he will become defensive and insecure if he finds your toys on his own. He probably still wouldn’t really see the need for toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’ll tease here and there but is often to focused on pleasure to actually tease his partner. But if his partner would tease him? He would cease function.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He would try to be quiet but grunts and moans in your ear quietly but could and would have to be convinced to be louder.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would eventually give his partner a necklace with “Gally” or just a simple “G” on it. And he would want you to leave it on while you’re under him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I’ve seen him stand, I’ve seen his stance. He has a thick dick like hella thick. It’s average length.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He could go everyday but chooses not to. He prefers to work you up for a couple days and then let you jump his bones.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He would get still and quiet and make you think he is asleep but he stays awake for a bit to just think.

#the maze runner #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner gally #tmr gally #tmr gally x reader #gally x reader #tmr gally imagine

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not-logan-paul · 1 year

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I usually post funny things and most of my account is memes and stupid jokes, but this has me fucked up.

Will Poulter is one of my favorite actors of all time. It's not fucking fair that the same people who have been bullying him and making fun of his appearance are now suddenly changing their minds. Just because you think someone "had a glow up" or "changed for the better" gives you no right to pretend you didn't do something fucking horrible.

Marvel fans, where were you when he was doing amazing in the Maze Runner trilogy? Or in Narnia? Where were y'all when he dressed up as Sid from Toy Story because of all the fucking rude comparisons that were made?

And even then, no one has the right to judge someone entirely based on how they look. That's probably one of the most fucked up things someone can you. You don't have the right to do something that stupid.

This makes me fucking sick. Everything he talks about in this article is heartbreaking. He doesn't deserve this now, and he definitely didn't deserve everything that happened to him back then. Please go support all the anti-bullying programs he's apart of. And send him some love.

https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/guardians-galaxy-vol-3-actor-153258336.html?guccounter=1

Link to the article ^

#will poulter #maze runner #the maze runner #the maze runner gally #gaurdians of the galaxy #gaurdians of the Galaxy 3 #gaurdians 3 #guardians of the galaxy black Adam #black adam

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in-need-of-gally-content · 9 months

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|Chapter•Six|

•|Masterlist|•

Gally spent all night awake.

He shifted around his bed, his mind focused on (M/n), wondering and thinking about him, about how he was feeling, and questioning why he did what he did. And yet, he didn't need to hear (M/n)'s reasoning, his mind showing him the bittersweet memory of someone behaving exactly like him, being a boy too skinny and weak that couldn't do much of anything, always hesitant and afraid.

The first year in the Glade brought painful memories he would rather ignore, but it was rather difficult when the rules were made because of him, to prevent those situations from repeating themselves, which was exactly was what happening with the greenie, and Gally knew that Alby trusted him to guide their greenie to the right path.

For the remaining hours, Gally stared at the ceiling of his room, relentlessly checking his watch to know what time it was. And finally, the exact moment the day reached the 4 am mark, he stood up from his bed and made his way down the stairs, deciding to himself that this time of the day can be considered morning.

Not caring about tying his boots properly, he jogged his way to the Slammer, not caring about the cold breeze that hit his warm skin, frowning at the mere thought of how cold (M/n) must be after spending the whole night outside.

He struggled to open the lock for a few seconds until he finally managed to open it, swinging the door open and stepping inside. He knelt on the ground and reached his hand to gently touch (M/n)'s face, his jaw tightening at the feeling of his cold skin, his foggy breath coming out with each exhale.

(M/n) shifted a little in place at the feeling of something warm on his skin, making him lean closer to it as the thought of finally being able to sleep clouded his mind for a few seconds, but then the warmth was gone and his eyes were open, slowly blinking to get rid of his blurry sight and cloudy consciousness.

For a moment he thought he was dreaming, "Gally?" He sat up slowly, feeling his body numb and hurting from staying in the same position for hours, his cold hand reaching up from under the hoodie, his fingertips barely gracing Gally's face.

"Yeah... yeah, it's me," he whispered as he wrapped his hand around (M/n)'s, reaching over to him to help him sit up, "I'm taking you back inside, (M/n)."

Gally fixed his hoodie around the greenie's shoulders and helped him stand up, slowly guiding him out of the Slammer, hurrying their way back to the Homestead, keeping him pressed close to his body while he rubbed his uninjured arm over the wool fabric, an attempt to warm him up.

They entered the Homestead and headed for the med room, where Gally made (M/n) lay down on the bed while he grabbed as many sheets as he found in the room, covering the greenie with them and continuing to rub his body to create friction and help him heat up.

He shifted his sitting position on the edge of the bed, and tried to stand up, but a hand weakly held onto his shirt. His green eyes looked down into (e/c) ones, staring up at him with a pleading gaze. He showed (M/n) a small smile and held his hand, noticing the dirty bandages.

"I just wanna change these, I won't leave," he whispered while gently touching the fabric wrapped around his arm, and (M/n) nodded, letting go of Gally's shirt. He stood up and rummaged around the cabinets where he knew Clint kept the bandages safe and clean.

Making his way back to the bed, he noticed (M/n)'s eyes slowly closing before snapping open again, he was obviously sleepy now that he was somewhere comfortable and warm, and Gally felt a small smile pulling at his lips.

His hand found its way to his (h/c) locks, moving them away gently, making him sigh before looking up into his green eyes.

"You can sleep if you want, greenie," without saying anything, (M/n) smiled at him weakly and closed his eyes, finally letting him rest for as long as he could.

Keeping (M/n)'s injured arm over the covers, he cleaned his wounds and wrapped the bandages where he had more prominent wounds or the most amount of them, securing it in place with surgical tape. He stayed there when he was done, sitting next to him with his back resting on the headboard, like the other night.

He looked at him as he slept, his fingers gently twirling his hair, playing with it and hearing him sigh, watching (M/n) inching closer to him, seeking Gally's warmth in his sleep.

About two hours go by, and with the med room open, the Keepers that walked by saw him- saw them. Some of them, like Newt, Minho, and Fry, came by to check on him, always receiving the same answer from Gally.

"He's sleeping."

He didn't care about his empty stomach and his lack of sleep, he only wanted to be with the greenie that day, and maybe, he could teach him something important about survival in the Glade. It seemed like he really needed the lesson after what happened yesterday.

"Hey~," looking toward the doors he saw Fry walking in with a big enough tray in his hands to carry three plates and cups, a thermos hanging off his shoulder with some fabric working as a strap. And behind him, a few of (M/n)'s friends are following him, "Thought you wouldn't mind eating with us while you wait."

He chuckled and grabbed the plate Fry handed him, and he began eating breakfast, sometimes getting included in the conversation everyone was having.

"I'm gonna..." Gally trailed on, getting their attention, "Be with him all day and hopefully I can... Get through him," he looked down at (M/n) again, especially because he didn't want to see the way they were staring at him, but he felt the heavy the stares of those who had been with him the longest time.

They tried to keep quiet, their voices low and turned into a distant murmur, but (M/n) shifted a bit as their voices became clearer, his eyes opening momentarily before closing again as he released a yawn. He sat up slowly while rubbing his face, trying to get rid of his sleepiness, the layers of sheets on his body falling around his hips, but the hoodie remained hanging on his shoulders.

"Drink this, greenbean," he blinked and reached for the cup with steaming liquid, seeing something soft-looking floating on it and slowly sinking, he blew on it before taking a sip. It's hot chocolate.

His eyes look around the room, seeing everyone around him and smiling at them, "Hey, guys," he mumbled as he continued to drink, feeling how it warmed his body from the inside.

Newt, who was sitting on the foot of the bed, reached for something on top of a drawer and slowly inched it close to his face, placing it on his purple eye, making him groan at the cold feeling and the pain he suddenly felt.

That's right, he got punched.

"Thanks, Newt," the blond hummed and nodded. (M/n) reached his hand up to hold it by himself, but he didn't let him.

"Let me do it, and try to eat something for once," everyone in the room chuckled and (M/n) let out a playful huff, continuing to drink his hot beverage while they enjoyed their breakfast somewhere that wasn't the dining area.

//////

After cleaning up the place when Clint and Jeff found them, Gally took the greenie out of the Homestead and took him somewhere near his treehouse.

"What are we doing here?" (M/n) stayed on the spot Gally told him to stay at, and he watched with curious eyes as he walked around, his sight fixed on the ground, seemingly looking for something.

"You remember the circle fight we had when you arrived?" The memory of Gally dragging a drunk Billy away from him flashed in his mind, and he hummed as a response, "Those fights are the best way to solve our conflicts when words won't cut it, to make matters even, or know who's better, like a hierarchy," (M/n) frowned and slowly nodded, somehow understanding what he meant, "But arranging these fights is not easy, usually," Gally crouched on the ground and moved some leaves around, before grabbing a rather long stick, although it looked more like a tree branch, "One of the people involved would deny the petition and it won't happen, other times the fights are playful, to release stress, like you saw."

All the while he was talking, Gally was drawing a circle on the dirt, roughly the same diameter as the original fighting circle. When he was done, Gally threw the stick away and stood a few feet in front of him

"Alright..." He raised his hands and made a motion toward himself, "Try to push me out of the circle," for a moment, (M/n) would've laughed, but the serious look on Gally's face told him he wasn't playing around. He took a deep breath, wondering if he would be able to do it, "Come on," he added, a light tone in his voice, he seemed relaxed and friendly, although (M/n) doubted he was gonna take it easy on him.

What would be the point of going easy on him, after all?

He shook his body a little, trying to lighten the stiffness he felt on his body at the thought of fighting Gally, and decided he was gonna try his best.

//////

Trying to win against Gally wasn't easy, and he was more than aware that he wasn't even getting close to being able to beat him fair and square, the way he was gasping for air and feeling the drops of his sweat on his skin told him that, especially when Gally looked fresh and calm, as if this was nothing for him.

But the smile on his face told (M/n) that he was enjoying this, perhaps Gally also needed to relax and release stress, soon realizing that his mind and heart felt lighter, even if his aching and tired body seemed to weigh five times its original weight.

(M/n) released a breathy chuckle as he charged at Gally again, trying his best to push him out of the circle, even if it was the slightest bit of his body, but the sound of Gally's laughter made him laugh in return, which caused him to lose his strength and grip falter, and he was soon laying on the dirt while looking up at Gally, feeling the cold dirt through his clothes on his back.

Well, at least he was actually giving (M/n) a challenge instead of going easy on him, which was something he liked and appreciated. He observed how Gally placed his hands on his hips, smiling brightly at him.

"Well, compare to how you were when we started, you're getting a little bit better, greenie," (M/n) scoffed at his attempt at a compliment, perhaps to encourage him, shortly after watching how he reached his hand for him to grab and help him stand up.

But this was the perfect moment, Gally had let his guard down and wasn't expecting a counterattack.

(M/n) held onto Gally's hand a little tighter than he meant, before swinging his legs from under him as he pulled his weight down. Gally's stance faltered and he fell to the ground with a yelp.

(M/n) sat up on the dirt, and a wide victorious grin graced his flushed and sweaty face, "I win," Gally turned his head to the side to follow the greenie's line of sight. His arm and leg were out of the circle.

An amused chuckle rumbled in his chest as he looked back at (M/n), his hair messy, leaves and grass stuck in it, he could only imagine he looked somehow better than the greenie did. He sat up as well and nodded, still surprised by the tactic he pulled last second on him.

"See, you're seeing the chances and taking them, well done," he even applauded (M/n)'s win for a few seconds before standing up, and this time, the greenie actually accepted Gally's help.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of his stomach growling interrupted him, making both of them surprised at the loud sound, before laughing and making their way back to the Homestead, where they spotted Fry and the rest of the Cooks getting ready to make lunch.

They decided to help around for a bit, but Gally kept apologizing when (M/n) had to fix anything he did wrong, so in the end, he ended up just watching them work while maintaining a conversation with Fry and the greenie, refusing to acknowledge Frypan's knowing look.

(M/n) served them his and Gally's part of their lunch food and silently ate there, chuckling at Fry's disappointed frown, only to see the bright smile of white teeth growing on his face an instant later.

In a moment, every Glader was coming by for lunch, and Gally offered to wash their plates after (M/n) announced he needed to use the bathroom. His green eyes followed him until he disappeared around the corner as he headed to the med room.

Fry had him on serving duty, so he remained busy while waiting for the greenie to come back, but he was getting increasingly worried, glancing at his watch every couple of minutes, and glancing back in a way to try and see him, maybe catch a glimpse of him, just to know he was alright and nothing had happened. But even after he was done giving everyone their part of their lunch, (M/n) hadn't come back. He was getting worried.

Especially when he spotted Peter and Jason walking past laughing, and he felt his breath quickening at the thought that they had done something to (M/n) again.

"Shuck," He mumbled as he walked out of the kitchen, heading to the med room, "(M/n)," he called his name a few times as he got closer, getting louder every time he said it and he soon stopped by the med room. The door was slightly open.

He took a deep breath and lifted his hand to reach the door and push it open the rest of the way, but it was swung open from the inside before he could, and there (M/n) was, looking... Different.

The dirt was off his skin and he had changed his clothes, but one thing in particular caught his eye. His hair. It was shorter than before. And he...

Liked it. It wasn't incredibly short, but he could see his face better now.

"Did you...?" He trailed on, his green eyes observing his new haircut, brows slightly furrowed.

"Cut my hair? Yeah," he responded, shaking his head a little to emphasize it and give it more effect, "I found scissors in the drawer," he added with a chuckle.

(M/n)'s eyes noticed the lock of blond hair that was hanging over Gally's face, and he couldn't help but reach up to touch it.

It was soft, but the ends were dry and split open. And the comment Gally made in passing echoed in his mind.

"Want me to cut yours?"

//////

Somehow, Gally has found himself in the med room bathroom, sitting on a chair, cloth around his shoulders with (M/n) standing behind him, holding a pair of sharp scissors dangerously close to his neck and face. Although he trusted the greenie enough to know that he would not do anything to hurt him purposely, he continued to shift in place, nervous and feeling a little scared.

Of course, (M/n) realized how tense Gally was feeling, so he did his best to start up a conversation, anything that could ease the tension in the air, even if he was aware of how extremely anxious and self-conscious he is of his words, so he let out a just a few babbled words and noises a couple of times until he managed to formulate a coherent sentence after all his tries.

"So... How's the weather?" He mentally smacked himself the instant the words left his mouth, but he realized that he made Gally let out a soft chuckle, feeling the air ease as he relaxed his stiff shoulders.

"It's pretty nice, actually, hasn't rained all week," both of them have wide smiles that neither of them can see, and they continue on with their weather talk, hearing the snips of the scissors as it cuts blond hair, watching it fall on the cloth and to the floor.

(M/n) is focused on what he's doing, but he's still listening to Gally as they talked for the while he was busy cutting his hair, until he was finally done.

He's worried about whether Gally is gonna like how it turned out, he felt like he had done a pretty good job, he only did that haircut with scissor and a comb that was missing a few of its teeth, and he likes it- he loves it actually, like damn, he looks good, more than good... but he's still worried.

"Well... I'm done," (M/n) removed the cloth from around Gally's shudders and picked up the few stray hairs that ended up on his skin, "Take a look," he motioned toward the stained mirror over the sink and he stood up, turning toward it and leaning down slightly to get a better look at his reflection.

"Wow," he whispered, his hands reaching up to ruffle his hair a bit, "I really like it, greenie, looks great," (M/n) mirrored Gally's smile as he turned to look at him, "But now we gotta clean this up," his eyes looked down at the floor, staring at all the hair that was once attached to his head, and they both get on their knees to pick up as much hair as they can before throwing it in the trash bin by the sink.

It's not long after walking out of the med room when a few Gladers comment on his new haircut, even giving him a few compliments in passing, but he gave all the credit to (M/n), saying he just sat there and did nothing.

This caused the message to spread, and soon, many guys were coming up to him, asking if they could also get a haircut. He didn't know what to say, but he didn't want to deny them either, "Uh... Sure?" And then, there were those like Mikah, who asked what hairstyle would look best on him.

Tilting his head to the side, (M/n) reached his hands up to his hair, holding it in a half ponytail, shifting to a low bun, a high bun, pushing his hair back, and he got his answer.

"You look good with any hairstyle, Mikah," he said with a small smile, one that the curly-haired blond copied with a few satisfied nods.

But there was something about that interaction that Gally didn't like. He had no idea what it was but... It didn't sit right in his chest, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

//////

With the next day being supply day, everyone in the Glade decided to stay up later than usual, and they were playing around after eating their dinner, the sun was gone and the moon illuminated the place.

(M/n) and Gally found themselves sitting on the top of the Watchtower, their feet dangling off the edge as they looked down at everyone or up at the starry sky. But there was something that the greenie wanted to know.

"Gally..." He heard a hum coming from him, and (M/n) turned to look at him, his green eyes were almost fully engulfed by his pupils as he watched the stars, "Why are you... Nice to me?"

(M/n) wasn't dumb, he had heard from everyone that Gally could be rather mean and annoying, despite being so diligent when it came to his job as a Builder and especially as a Keeper, he had been called hotheaded and stubborn, and he had yet to see that side of him. He was just... Curious as to why he was the way he was with him.

Gally blinked a few times before sighing deeply, a sigh that had an 'it's time' air.

"There once was a shank like you around," he started, not looking away from the sky, "He was... Rather quiet and overly nice, too nice at times even, especially to those that did not deserve it," he paused, taking a shaky breath in, it seemed like talking about him hurt him, so (M/n) guessed they were close friends, "He was small, skinny and weak, constantly hesitating and feeling scared, doing everything he was told to do, even if that meant... Being laughed at or punched later on."

(M/n) observed his expression, he had a far off look in his eyes, and he seemed in pain, so he hesitated before asking.

"What happened to him?" His voice was quiet, a mere whisper in the night, accompanied by the distant sound of laughter.

"He was determined to change, to be stronger, to not let everyone walk all over him again, to not be nice and kind to others unless they earned it..." Gally paused, biting his lip and frowning, shifting his sight to look at the Homestead, "And he did it, for months I had to watch and witness his pain and misery every day of his life," a bittersweet smile showed up on his face, a dry chuckle leaving past his lips.

(M/n) swallowed and let out a shaky sigh, "And... Where is he now?"

Gally stayed quiet for a few minutes and the greenie was sure he wasn't gonna answer him, which led him to assume he was gone. Maybe he was one of the scrapped off names on the wall...

However, he didn't get a chance to apologize for asking, when Gally turned to look at him, his green eyes staring into his (e/c) ones, a sad expression showing on his face as he sighed, a weak, defeated smile barely pulling the corner of his lip up.

"He's next to you, greenie."

#gally x reader #gally x y/n #gally x male reader #the maze runner x male reader #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner #gally maze runner #the maze runner gally #tmr gally #ftm reader #trans reader #trans #will poulter #will poulter x reader

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geminigengar · 2 years

Text

He's Bad, She's Worse

tmr gally x female manipulator!reader

you get between gally and some bullies.

warnings: canon typical violence, gaslighting, bullying, injury, mean!reader, protective!gally, illusions to sex / nsfw talk

A/N: peace and love to the grumpy x sunshine gally fans but i could make him worse • none of the toxicity is between gally & reader, it'll make sense when you read it • i cannot take 'shuck' and 'slinthead' seriously i refuse to write it

word count: ~1.5k

all characters & reader are 18+

you dragged yourself out of the woods, exhausted. harvest had been great today and would feed everyone in the glade for a while but god was tiring.

having done enough to leave early, you'd taken off to the trees to be by yourself for a while. it was nice to relax and recharge by yourself every now and then, without the grading voices of the other track-hoes and gardeners you worked with.

all you wanted was a cold shower and to get back to your hut in peace. you were excited for gally to get back, knowing he wouldn't be home for a few hours after you. you knew where gally's favourite shirt was. you also know how he reacted whenever he saw you in his clothes. needless to say, you may be tired but were looking forward to-

"ah, hell" you groaned.

you saw the late afternoon sun filter through the branches above you. normally this would be a gorgeous sight, one you would want to commit to memory. at the moment you just sighed, having landed flat on your back after distractedly walking in to a low hanging branch.

gally's fault, 100%.

it's not like you had any control over the fact he was so hot you couldn't think straight.

you got up, nursing your split lip and rapidly bruising black eye.

definitely his fault.

you sighed, knowing gally would work himself into a frenzy at the sight of your face- even if you were only in his shirt. he was insanely protective of you. to the rest of the gladers it was concerning how much he cared for you, but you didn't care. you loved it. you adored how much he pampered you and the princess treatment he gave you, showering you in affection any chance he could, not caring what the others thought.

you were just as passionate about him as he was about you, only you were better at reigning it in when you needed to; unlike gally. your boyfriend being the swing-first-ask-questions-later type; all brawn and no brain.

you sighed wistfully. he was perfect.

dusting off your pants, you continued your trek formulating some other plan to ensure a better night with gally than being dragged to the med-jacks.

your scheming continued as you walked until you heard voices coming from near your hut.

odd, considering you'd had gally build it as far away as reasonably possible from the gladers' sleeping quarters. he didn't complain either, considering you both wanted to be away from the other boys- most of which you couldn't stand to be around on a good day.

peeking behind a tree towards your home you felt your breath catch.

gally was on the ground sporting a bloody nose, unable to get up due to the boot to his chest. ansel, the man you now deemed number one on your shit list, on the other end of the shoe, laughing at him. his idiot partner in crime, seth, egging him on.

you were livid. they thought you were a bitch before, they haven't seen a fraction of what you could do.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

gally was pissed. the two runners sneering down at him the cherry on top of the shit day he was already having. after one of his clumsy builders broke gally's hand with a hammer and landed him in the med-jack house for the day; only to be joined later by another builder that had slipped from the roof they were building. saying he was irritated would be an understatement.

all he wanted was to see you and forget about everything and everyone else for a few hours.

getting punched in the face before he entered his own hut definitely derailed that plan by a longshot.

gally shoved ansel's boot off only for him to bring it back harder, pinning gally to the ground. "not so fast."

letting his head fall back, gally sighed through his nose. he was too tired for this.

"what do you want?"

"'what do we want?' are you stupid?" seth asked, notably a safe distance away from gally even from his place under ansel's boot.

"you think i know what you two idiots think about?" he scoffed, clearly offended. gally was probably thr most aggressive person in the glade. he could think of a laundry list of things he'd said or done that pissed people off- and that was just today. in his defence today was a lot.

ansel put more pressure on his leg. "one night in the slammer's not enough for what you did."

oh.

that.

gally's always had an issue with the two runners but it came to a head sometime last month.

he knew normally you ignored any comments and looks sent your ways by the gladers. that it didn't bother you too much either way, even if it bothered the hell out of gally. you could handle yourself well enough and most of the gladers were too scared to actually try anything, too scared of him to make any moves on his girl. but ansel and seth had been starring for far too long and made one too many comments about your chest that day that gally happened to witness.

had you told him not to worry about the comments and just brush them off? yes. multiple times. but did he ever listen? no.

resulting in the two runners in the med-jacks house for two days and gally in the slammer for the night.

not that he cared, to him it was worth it. you were his and he wouldn't let anyone get away with speaking about you like that, despite your protests. in his mind they didn't deserve to even look at you, let alone talk about you. besides, no matter how much you had scolded him afterwards, he knew you loved it if the sex you both had after was anything to go by.

he huffed, grip tightening on the leather against his chest "yeah? then take it up with alby."

"exactly boy," all boys turned towards you hearing the door to your and gally's hut creak open. "take it up with alby."

all three froze and took in the sight of you casually leaning against the doorframe with a drink in your hands.

in only his button up shirt and underwear.

"move it ansel, i prefer my boyfriend unsquashed."

gally's never moved quicker in his life; punching ansel's knee into an unnatural angle and throwing the boy off of him. ansel stayed on the ground he hit hard, hissing as he clutched his now injured knee.

gally was in front of you before you knew it, standing between you and the other gladers. you knew he was pissed that they were seeing you like this but you didn't pay it any mind. in fact you'd snuck around the back of the hut and changed specifically because you knew when gally was possessive he was terrifying, and the only thing worse than a pissed off gally was a pissed off gally between you and trouble. you recalled him once scaring thomas so bad, none of the gladers spoke to you for a week. damn, you missed silence.

gally pulled you from your train of thought as he blocked you from their view, arms crossed in front of him. you wrapped your arms around one of his skull sized biceps, pressing a kiss to it before resting your head against his shoulder. "thank you," you stated, smiling sweetly. "if you three are done with the kiddie fight-"

"hold on!" ansel shouted from his spot on the ground, seth doing his best to help the other runner stand.

gally stiffened under your touch, puffing his chest out further defensively. you stiffled a chuckle into his sleeve. you loved seeing this side of him.

"we're not done with him yet, not by a long shot." seth pointed out.

you shrugged, "okay."

"okay?"

all the were looking at you, gally more confused than the others. he trusted you and knew you well enough to know that you were up to something, he just didn't know what.

"yeah okay." you shrugged again, letting go of gally to rub his back, "whatever you do to him's gonna be nothing compared to alby'll have in store for you two."

"what the hell are you talking about?"

you smirked into gallys shoulder, moving further behind him. "just saying, alby's not gonna be too happy with you considering it was you two who attacked me when i was home alone,"

gally bit his lip to keep from bursting out laughing as ansel and seth's jaws dropped simultaneously.

so that's your angle.

god you were absolutely evil.

gally was in love.

seth was visibly sweating. "what?" he choked, "how- but we didn't touch you!"

"didn't you? i mean i have the black eye to prove it," pointing to your face you smiled sweetly before pressing another kiss to gally's shoulder as he grinned like mad in front of you. you knew he'd fuss over your eye and lip once the others were gone but he assumed if you were alright enough to put on this little show of yours he could wait until you were done to properly take care of you.

"and poor gal here got his nose broken defending me, isn't that right babe?"

he nodded instantly, starring them down "yup," he said popping the 'p.'

ansel and seth stood frozen in place, before seth erupted, almost startling you. you weren't paying attention as he shouted droning on and on about how alby respected them too much and how you were the greenie here and nobody would believe you.

he finally shut up as you sniffed, letting tears fall from your eyes with a pout on your face; gripping gally's sleeves as he instinctively wrapping his arm around your thighs from his place in front of you.

"ha!" ansel was chuckling now, "you know we're right."

he might've been laughing but now you were cackling, wiping the tears off your face. "are you though?" you smiled, "see, it's that easy." you remarked, voice saccharine sweet. even gally was stunned, what had been instant adrenaline at your distress leaving his body at the sound of your laugh as he processed your crocodile tears.

all three stood shell shocked, the two runners debating their chances. on the one hand you could be full of it, even if it was a good performance. and even with ansel's injured knee the two of them could still fight. on the other hand they were scared to see if you could fight and knew full well gally wouldn't hesitate to actually kill someone when it came to you.

you took a sip of your drink, enjoying the tense silence knowing you were the cause of it. you could practically see the gears turning in their heads. it was short lived enthusiasm as your lip pulsed painfully under the cup brim reminding you of not only your injuries, but your exhaustion.

you stood up on your tip toes, pressing a quick kiss to gally's cheek that he still had to lean down for you to reach, which he did instinctively. turning back to the door, you informed the three "as fun as this was, i'm tired so beat it or gally and i flip a coin to see who gets to scratch your names off the wall."

you weren't even all the way through the door before gally was picking you up by the waist to the sound of rapid footsteps running away from your hut.

#tmr gally #tmr gally x reader #tmr gally imagines #tmr x reader #the maze runner gally #the maze runner gally x reader #tmr imagines #maze runner imagines #my own writing

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justinewt · 10 months

Text

For the Greater Good - TMR REWRITE Chapter Ten

[TMR REWRITE-MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: After Teresa called WICKED on them when the group had just reached the Right Arm that same day, Minho and Grace were both abducted by the organization while their friends barely made it out. Thomas had to watch his sister and one of his closest friend get dragged onboard of the helicarrier, unable to do anything to help them. For 6 months, they were locked up in a facility and experimented on until Thomas, Newt and a back-from-the-dead Gally came to their rescue.

Words: 7.3k

Warnings: TMR Death cure spoilers, angst, mental torture, medical experiments, needles, restraints, violence

Grace tilted her head back and she stared at the overhead lights with a heavy sigh. Her muscles felt so sore. She pulled at her wrists in frustration, but she was handcuffed to a chair, in a small room with a table and another chair facing each other like the one where Janson had briefly questioned Grace and Thomas back when they got to the facility, except this room was bright and white. Her heart ached as she remembered her brother struggling against Jorge, trying to get to her and Minho to save them, calling out their names, yelling at the top of his lungs. She feared what they were going to do to her and Minho here. It had only been a day since they were taken from the Right Arm camp, which went up in flames after WICKED came. All because of Teresa. Grace heard the handle move and the door open. A guard held out the door to no other than Teresa. She dared to greet Grace with a friendly smile. She was met by a death stare.

“How are you feeling?” She sat in front of Thomas’ sister as the door was closed behind her. Grace stared at her without saying anything. Teresa sighed softly, joining her hand on the table. She was trying so hard to come off as welcoming and agreeable, but Grace would never let her forget what she did to all of them by betraying them. “If your muscles are still hurting a little, it’s normal. It should be gone in a couple days.”

“Yeah, I doubt that.” Grace finally spoke, though her words were referring instead to the knife she had stuck in their backs. She was bitter and resented Teresa. Straightening up, she asked, “Where’s Minho?”

“He is being checked by a doctor. Just like you were, when you were still passed out.”

“I want to see him.”

“I’m sorry, Grace. I don’t think Janson and Chancellor Paige will allow that.”

“Do you like that? Huh? Being WICKED’s dog?” Grace asked. She didn’t have to raise her voice very much to let her anger show. Teresa looked at her like she was sad to see her react like this, as if it was surprising after what happened.

“Look, Grace, I came here to tell you something. I’m sorry it had to happen this way, really, but… we need you to help us.”

“You need my blood, not me. Why are you even here acting like you’re trying to bargain with me? Why do you act like you care?”

“This could all be so much easier if you agree to help us.” As she was talking, the door opened, and Janson walked in. He sized up Grace and stood by the table, hands behind his back.

“She’s right. This could all be so much easier if you just agree to help us. Because you know, that if you’re being too difficult… we will take what we want from you anyhow.” He threatened her with this annoyance in his eyes contradicting the smile on his face. “We have much to do right now. We’ll deal with her later, take her to her room.”

He waved nonchalantly at Grace, and she was grabbed by two soldiers who entered as he left. They grabbed her by the arms and not giving her time to get support on her feet, she was dragged out of the room and brought down the corridors. They passed many people in white coats and continued without stopping until they reached a door. At eye level along the wall was a window that looked out into the room within. It was a small room with a single bed with white sheets and blankets and a small light wooden table against the wall, with a chair. A guard slipped a card in a slot provided for this purpose, next to the door and a beep signalled the opening of the latter. She was pushed inside. They left her in handcuffs, and she turned back to the door, which beeped again as it locked. She also realized that the window was obscured from inside the room. They could see her, but she was cut off from what was going on in the halls. She sat on the bed and let her head fall on the pillow. She had no idea what Teresa wanted to tell her. Janson had cut their conversation short after probably being too annoyed by Grace’s behaviour. She was way too angry to comply and be obedient anyway.

As the days passed, Grace felt more and more on edge. She was locked in a room in which we could observe her without her knowledge and the lights were never turned off, which made her have a lot of trouble sleeping. She wasn't doing anything the whole day and the time seemed excruciatingly long. She thought that maybe they were trying to wear her out and push her to the edge so she would be too exhausted to fight back, or maybe they were just preparing the next tortures she would be subjected to. The only time she had some interactions was when she was brought food, and even then, the guards weren’t the most talkative, or when she was taken to get some blood drawn. It was really bugging her how they were just leaving her alone. She knew something was coming, and she also knew that she wouldn’t like it, whatever it would be. After a couple weeks, she was visited again by Teresa, directly in her room this time. The door buzzed loudly, and she sat up on her bed. The woman walked in, followed by an armed soldier.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, pulling the chair away from the table and sitting down.

“Are you going to ask me that every time you talk to me?”

“I’m just being mindful. You might believe me, but I care about your wellbeing, and Minho’s.” Her voice was soft, but it wasn’t fooling Grace. “I really need to have this talk with you, and I would prefer to do it myself. Janson won’t be as patient.”

“Oh, you’re so kind.” Grace rolled her eyes, pulling at the handcuffs, looking away from Teresa.

“We have been running tests on the blood samples we collected from you, Minho, and the others. You must have notified we weren’t taking you out of your room very often. We compared—”

“Get to the fucking point already.” Grace cut her off, sighing.

“We discovered something in your blood. The enzyme your brain produces is 110 percent more efficient against the flare.” She sounded excited and happy about what she was telling her, but it was all gibberish to her ears. “Not only do your body fights off the flare, but it also controls it. It’s as if it was assimilating to your system, rendering it harmless to you. You’re more immune than anyone else we’ve seen. Even more than Thomas.”

Grace instantly looked back at Teresa when she mentioned her brother. What she was saying was somehow not very surprising. This was a theory she had ever since she saw them draw so much blood from her at the facility in the desert. And now, she had the confirmation that there was something more about her and her blood, something that was very interesting and precious to WICKED. They probably already knew about it but needed a lot of her blood to run a few more tests and be sure. In any case, they took their time doing it.

“So? What now?” Grace enquired, holding her hands tightly to keep from fidgeting with her fingers.

“We are on the right track to synthesize a cure, thanks to you, Grace.” The latter glanced at Teresa. She would never get out of here if she was their golden ticket to a cure. They would never let her go and it made her grow anxious. So anxious about what they would do to her to get it that she was petrified. “We still need to conduct a few tests, and we need to find someone to try it on but we’re positive we can do it.”

“And why are you telling me this? They don’t need my permission to make me their lab rat.” Grace spat through her gritted teeth.

“I don’t want them to hurt you, that is why.” This made her let out a chuckle. She didn’t believe her anymore. She didn’t believe she actually cared, because she jeopardized the safety of everyone to get here and to get to this. Grace surprised herself when she spoke.

“I’ll agree to help you.” She turned her head to Teresa. “But I have a couple conditions.”

“Tell me.”

“I want them to conduct tests and shit, only on me. Not on Minho, or the others. I won’t fight back… if they leave him alone. Torture me not him.”

“You won’t be tortured, Grace—”

“Don’t bullshit me, please. Just go tell them and get on with it.” She looked away, gulping quietly. Teresa said she would go talk to Paige and see what she could do, promising her to do her best but she didn’t care about her worthless promises. She didn’t meet Teresa’s gaze again when she left and had a gloomy face, staring into space, as if she had signed her death certificate. To ensure Minho’s wouldn’t be tortured by WICKED, she had negotiated that everything be done to her, without having the slightest idea of how far their experiments would go and that thought alone made her feel sick to her stomach. She knew that if Minho was here, he would have never let her do this, but he wasn’t, and she didn’t want them to hurt him for the sake of science when they already had what they needed to make a cure with her. If she could ensure he would be safe, she was ready to do anything, even if it led to her death, though she prayed it wouldn’t come to that. She wanted to see her brother again. She wanted to Newt and all her friends again. She wanted to see Sonya again and get to know her, which she would never be able to do if she died at the hands of WICKED. It took until the next day for Teresa to come back. She talked to Chancellor Paige, and she had agreed to leave Minho out of this, the only condition was for Grace to never be difficult and agree to every test they would need to do. She agreed and knew it was going to be a long way to hell.

Her bare feet sinking into the snow, Grace walked on without really knowing where to go. Strangely, she didn't feel the cold, despite the fact that she wasn't wearing shoes or a jacket. Her clothes were thin, but she didn't seem to mind the temperature, which was probably in the negatives given the snow that was falling nonstop. She saw a forest straight ahead. There was nothing else on the horizon, so she headed there with a quiet step. As she approached the edge of the forest, she heard someone calling her, which caused her to go deeper into the woods, so that soon she found herself in the shade of the trees and of their tall, thick foliage. She walked blindly, following the voice that echoed around her. She only realized after getting too far into the forest that the snow had disappeared around her. She stepped on a branch that creaked under her foot. Suddenly, everything became silent, and the atmosphere changed drastically. The air became heavy and thick, and she found it harder and harder to breathe. Gasping for air, she held her hands to her throat and collapsed.

She was choking and there was nothing she could do. She closed her eyes for a second and as she tried to take deep breaths, she felt water seep through her nose and mouth and found herself banging furiously against a glass wall. This time, she felt the coldness in the water she was immersed in, right down to her bones. She wanted to hold her breath but the water she had already breathed made her cough and take deeper breaths. His vision was blurring. She no longer had the strength to hit the glass in front of her and her body shook with a brutal spasm, then another and she felt like falling into an abyssal void. Everything was dark around her. She let go and opened her eyes when she heard the heartbreaking cry of a Griever. Without thinking she took a deep breath and felt air fill her lungs, but the relief was short lived. She got up and quickly realized that she was in the labyrinth, in the middle of the night. She didn't even try to understand the meaning of everything that was happening, as if it seemed normal. There was a second screech that echoed through the corridors of the maze, and she began to run at full speed, not even knowing if she was getting closer to the monster or if she was moving away from it. She didn't care about being barefoot, she just ran breathlessly, terrified of coming face to face with one of her half-machines, half-organic creatures.

Taking a turn, she slipped and fell heavily to the ground. She felt her body go to the side and she slid into a wide gap between the platform and the wall. She screamed at the top of her lungs and fell silent when she realized that she was glued to the stone wall. She felt like her whole body was trembling from the inside. Her breath was shaky as well and she heard the metallic clinging of the Griever climbing up the wall. The creature covered her body and she found herself only inches from his head. He opened his mouth, letting out a squealing scream, bringing up a foul smell from the bowels of the earth. She closed her eyes as hard as she could and turned her head to the side, her face distorted with fear, and screamed. When she opened her eyes again, it took her a few seconds to stop and realize where she was. Her throat hurt like hell, but with a quick look around reminded her that she was not back in the maze. She heard the voice of a scientist rise in the room. She was barely catching her breath, her eyes wide from what she had been put through. After a minute, she was taken out of whatever machine she was in and carried to a bed. Her whole body felt drained of any ounce of energy that she ever had, as if she had turned into a ragdoll. She was strengthless. Her arms hanging loosely along the bed, she stared above her, breathing weakly.

The bed she was moved around on was pushed against a wall. Her vision was still blurry, but she could make out the shapes of several people, busy around her. She felt her arms being lifted and then rested on the sides of the bed. Her eyes moved slowly, and she tried to focus and follow some of the movements. She watched as plastic bags were hooked to IV poles on each side of her bed. One of the pouches contained a liquid that appeared to be translucent and the others a dark red liquid. She guessed the many tubes she could see linked the bags to her body, but she couldn't feel anything. The noises of machines and the words exchanged around her mixed in an incessant buzzing as if she was surrounded by a thousand bees. She saw someone lean over her and place a mask over her face. She took a breath, and her eyes grew heavier and heavier, until they closed completely, and she let herself sink in the dark again.

She did everything they asked of her, and she was still not allowed to see Minho, but Teresa assured he was being taken care of and not tested on. She didn’t trust her, but she had to take her word for it since she couldn’t check for herself. The only thing to do was hoping they were keeping their word. With Grace in their hands, it didn’t take the scientists as long as she thought to try and see if their vaccine actually cured people from the flare. What would take a little more time would be to see how long the cure they made was effective before they got sick again, if they got sick again at all, because there was a world where it did work out perfectly and in which Grace turned out to be the source of the cure for all of humanity. If it was the world they were in, Grace would be condemned to serve as their supply for the creation of this vaccine and would never see the light of the sun ever again. She would be sucked dry by these vampires, but they would act as if they were so grateful of her sacrifice. The sacrifice of a 17-year-old girl who happened to be more immune to the flare than others. To her great misfortune. But if they had gotten Thomas as well, he would be subjected to the exact same treatment and she didn’t want that, though she didn’t want to die for those greedy, selfish people either. While she was plunged into a vegetative state for months at a time, she only dreamed of one thing.

Getting out of there and seeing her brother and friends again.

She wanted to have another chance at life. She wanted to be more than what they saw in her. Maybe, if she could make it out of there alive, she could also see if anything could come out of that spark she felt when meeting Sonya.

Grace wasn’t really being told anything anymore and she couldn’t even get out of bed. She had been transferred to a bigger room where she was strapped to a sort of hospital bed, her arms stretched out to the sides. So many tubes were connected to the crooks of her elbows, the backs of her hands and really, wherever they could stick a needle, they had. She was bedridden and fed through a tube that had been inserted in her skin and into her stomach and an oxygen mask was sometimes slapped on her face to put her to sleep. When she was conscious and awake, she wasn't even fully aware of what was going on around her anyway. She just had this blurry, constant vision of masked people in white coats bustling around her. Usually, it was pretty quiet and when they did speak, she couldn't make out half the words, but she guessed they might be speaking way more when she was asleep, which she was most of the time.

“Can you hear me?” Teresa spoke to her softly, sitting across from her. Grace did hear her. She was physically unable to respond, her whole body feeling numb like she was still feeling the effects of the aesthetics and drugs that they used on her even though she had been brought here for some time already. She couldn’t tell how long it had been since they put her in this room, on this chair with Teresa. Grace looked terrible. She looked exhausted and sick, a dull grayish complexion on her face. It looked like she was asleep with her eyes open, her cuffed hands stretched out in front of her on the table. If there hadn't been a backrest on her chair, she would have collapsed to the floor without a doubt. Even though she couldn’t react very much, she listened to Teresa.

“There’s a little girl here. Her name is Shai Lun. She’d been infected for three weeks but, Grace… you saved her.”

Although her body remained still, her chest heaving at each weak breath she took, Grace looked up tiredly at Teresa. Hearing this, a glimmer of hope passed through her eyes. If what she was saying was true, maybe her sacrifice would have served some purpose, and saved this little girl. Teresa saw the way she looked at her and gave her a smile, nodding.

“We’ve had her here for observation for weeks now. You saved her. And you can save so many others. Everything we’re doing here, it’s working.” Her smile stretched at the joy that this statement brought her. “Do you understand? That’s why this is so important.”

Hoping that Grace would say something to her made Teresa greatly disappointed when the later just looked down at the table again. She sighed and stood up.

“I just wanted you to know.”

“Teresa.” When she turned her back to her, Grace called her name so softly it almost sounded like a whisper.

“Grace?” She asked as if she thought she had dreamed being called out to. She approached and leaned gently towards her. The girl lifted her head slightly, looking up at Teresa. Grace swallowed harshly, her throat feeling so sore and parted her lips.

“Minho… let me see him… please…” She had to speak directly into Teresa's ear, the sound of her voice being so low. Pronouncing these 6 words had already almost made her breathless. Teresa straightened up and nodded, unable to promise her that this meeting would actually happen. Two guards then came in and grabbed Grace by the arms, lifting her up from the chair and moving her out of the room. Her body hanged from their hand like she was just a rag, and she was brought to a single room which she recognized to be the one she was in before they started actively experimenting on her. The guards put her on the bed, lying on her right side and connected her handcuffs to chains tied to the feet of the bed. The chain was so short she couldn’t even think of rolling over, but she didn’t have the energy to do so anyway. She stared at the window across the wall. She couldn’t see what was going on in the hallways but anyone stopping by could watch her in the room. It was the least of her worries. Grace closed her eyes and she was so tired that despite the bright, white lights on the ceiling, she managed to fall asleep almost instantly.

When she woke up, Grace let out a yawn so big it felt like her jaw was dropping. She winced. Her mouth hurt. She straightened up with difficulty leaning on her forearm to bring her face closer to her hands and touched her mouth with her fingertips. She hissed when she touched actual wounds. Her lips were so dry and irritated that the corners of her mouth were cracked. Maybe that played in why Teresa looked at her with so much concern in her eyes when they met. Or maybe this was just an impression and Teresa didn't care about how awful Grace looked. Her eyes then went down her hands and arms. She knew they had been drawing blood from her for a while now, sticking needles wherever they could but she hadn’t realized how bad it was. There were large, dark blue-purple bruises all over her skin. A squeal escaped her lips, and she felt her body shake. Seeing those bruises covering nearly every square inch of her skin shocked her and she felt her stomach churn. She felt sick and a sudden wave of heat came over her upper body. It was as if she was burning up and she collapsed onto the floor with a grunt, staring at the ceiling, in pain. Her breaths fastened.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw a guard being hurried inside the room to detach the chain from the handcuffs. Seeing these two people come in gave her an idea. She felt something cold being pressed against her shoulder and she quickly felt her body and breathing relax.

“How long did I asleep?” She asked faintly.

“You’ve slept since your meeting with Teresa, this morning. You needed the rest.” The woman gave her a smile and helped her sit at the table against the wall. She showed no resistance and let herself be handled, swiftly stealing her access card from her pocket. Surprisingly, the doctor then told the guard to remove her handcuffs as the girl wasn’t going anywhere in her state. While she had her back turned, Grace let herself fall against the backrest of the chair and slipped the card at her waist, held in place by the elastic of her pants. If she tried to escape from this place, she might need this card to even get out of this room in the first place. The guard took her handcuffs off and remained in the room to watch her while the woman walked to the door. She reached for her card but didn’t find it and she patted her pockets, not understanding where it could have gone. She motioned for the guard to open for her and left. A couple minutes later, someone came in carrying a food tray. It was placed in front of Grace and after she ate, the doctor came back, this time sending the guard on his way so she could check on Grace’s bruises. A kidney plate on the table caught his eye. His arms were outstretched, one on the table the other in the doctor's hands. Grace pushed the tray over the edge of the table, exaggerating the exhaustion she was in to make it seem accidental. Cotton balls rolled on the floor.

“Sorry.” Grace breathed out.

“It’s all right. I’ll take care of it.” The woman turned her back to her and bent over to gather the cotton balls and the other stuff that fell from the tray. Grace had a sudden burst of energy, and she immediately grabbed a syringe from another tray and a small bottle of drugs. She didn't take the time to read the label and just filled the syringe with it before stabbing the needle in the woman lower back. She injected the liquid and watch her body drop to the floor. Grace had no idea if she was really unconscious, but she stood up. Her legs almost gave out beneath her, and she caught herself on the table before straightening up and dropping down beside the woman lying there. She took off her white blouse and shoes. The teenage girl then put all that on and got up, not without much difficulty, leaning on the back of the chair.

“This is useless, you know?” Grace glanced over her shoulders and shrugged, breathing heavily.

“I gotta try.” She said standing at her full height facing the door, trying to hide the colossal amount of effort that it took her not to fall right here and there. She slipped the card into the slot next to the door. It buzzed open and she stepped out in the hallway of the medical wing, where she had spent day after day for the past few months. She had never put so much focus on something as basic as walking but placing one foot in front of the other while standing without any support seemed so hard. She felt her legs shaking and the thought of collapsing in the hallway terrified her, so she forced herself to keep going when she heard the doctor's voice coming from her room. The latter was shouting at a guard to go after her and in the blink of an eye she was pinned down, the guard's knee pressing against her back while he held her bruised arms with a strong grip. Being on the floor was almost relaxing after trying so hard to walk, if it weren't for the pain she was being put through. The fatigue came back in a second and she didn’t even realize when she passed out. She opened and closed her eyes without being able to move a finger and that blurry vision was back. She heard voices around her but the words were confused and sounded deafened and all she could really tell was that she was lying on some sort of bed, in a room she didn't know. Her eyes half open she saw an orange light swirling in the corridors, not knowing what was going on. It was as if not only was her body asleep again, but her mind and senses were also functioning in slow motion. She felt a pressure somewhere on her body, but she was so numb she couldn’t tell where it came from though, she recognized the pressure of a syringe. She slowly realized she was coming out of whatever they had used to sedate her a moment prior when she heard glass breaking sharply on the floor and loud grunting as if there was fight going on. The sounds became clearer as the grunting turned into yelling and she almost fell off the bed when she tried to get up. She felt strong hands catching her in her fall and as she was helped up, she saw Thomas’ face and couldn’t believe it.

“Thomas.” She didn’t care about the pain that continuously shot through her bruised limbs and wrapped her arms around her brother with a sob. Newt and Minho were panting from the effort the fights required, standing there a few feet away from the siblings just reuniting. They joined in the hug after Grace gave them a look when she noticed them in the room. She also gave them each a hug and upon turning back to Thomas, she saw him staring at her arms in shock. Taking a step back, she hit the bed and looked at the three boys. Newt and Minho had also just seen the state in which WICKED had left her and she couldn't help but look away. Seeing what her arms looked like made her sick to her stomach but seeing the guilt in their eyes made her feel even worse. She thought of telling them she was fine, but she couldn’t even resort herself to saying such blatant lies. She felt dizzy and her body was weak, barely able to stand on her own.

“Grace—”

“It’s— I didn’t want them to experiment on you.” She said in one breath, wrapping her arm around her stomach, holding her side. She patted lightly when she felt a bandage under her T-shirt. For a split second she wondered what they had done to her, and she quickly remembered that she had spent most of her last months hooked up to machines, a tube in her stomach to feed her. Not one of them really said anything. All three of them were at an abyssal loss of words. Thomas looked around and grabbed one of the doctors lying dead and lifted the body, grabbing it by the collar to pull off its white coat and put it around Grace's shoulders. She couldn't hide the pain that shot through her arms as she tucked them into the sleeves and closed her eyes so as not to see the way the boys were staring at her.

“Let’s get them out of here.” Thomas glanced at Newt and nodded. He helped Grace to walk out of the room but as they came around the corner of the corridor, a bunch of soldiers spotted them and yelled in their direction. Grace barely had time to realize, she let out a gasp when she was suddenly lifted off the floor and found herself in Thomas's arms as the boys ran in the opposite direction. She clung to Thomas and watched the soldiers chasing them with dread on her tired face. As they fled, she met Janson's gaze and felt her heart skip a beat, holding her breath until he left her field of vision. They were desperately trying to shake off Janson and the soldiers but came to a halt when the latter came from in front of them. Grace ducked her head in Thomas’ neck when they fired in their direction. Minho urged them to get into the room to their right and slammed the door shut and locking it. Janson could be heard grunting as he banged on the door furiously. Thomas took a look around the room while Newt and Minho knocked over a piece of furniture across the door to block it. They backtracked against the large bay window overlooking the rest of the city. Grace stared at the door anxiously, trying to stay calm but with the fatigue and pain she was in, she was kind of all over the place.

“Oh, shit…” Thomas swore as they heard loud steps on the other side of the door. Janson really wanted that door open for the sole reason that he felt so entitled to what was in their blood and the cure that could come out of it. Though she was scared shitless, Grace knew that now that Thomas had her back, WICKED was going to have to keep their claws off her. Grace gulped as she heard a drill whirring. They were trying to saw through the lock on the door to open it.

“Any ideas?” Minho enquired while he and Newt stared at the door, sparks flying inside the room. Grace followed Thomas gaze as he turned to the window and looked down. He showed the pool beneath them and stepped aside, still carrying his sister in his arms while Newt and Minho threw a huge canister at the window, shattering the glass. He put Grace on her feet, holding her firmly by the waist and all four of them stood on the edge, watching the canister fall heavily into the water.

“It’s doable.” Thomas said, glancing at his sister and friend. In other circumstances, Grace would have laughed when she saw Minho’s doubtful face. “Just need a little running start.” Thomas was the first to walk towards the middle of the room, swiftly taking his sister back in his arms since she couldn't run, even for such a short distance. He told her to hold on tight and she clung to him, ignoring the pain that shot through her bruised hands, staring fearfully through the window, taking breaths to try to calm down.

“You sure about this?” Minho asked.

“Not really.” He saw the look on Grace’s face and added; “it’s gonna be okay.”

“Nice pep talk.”

“Yeah, we’re all bloody inspired.” Newt added sarcastically.

The sound of the saw stopped, and Grace turned her head towards the door. There was a silence for a couple of seconds before they started ramming the door. The door banged open, and Janson stepped over the furniture on the floor to get in the room. Thomas swore under his breath and the three boys ran for it and jumped out the window. He shouted, telling Grace to hold her breath but she didn't have time to process what he said and what was happening. She screamed her brother’s name as they fell. She opened her eyes underwater, blinded by this cloud of bubbles and this deaf sound that was her voice. In a matter of less than a second, the nightmares she had of herself drowning came back and she panicked. She was pulled out by Thomas and desperately gasped for air, coughing dryly, and wincing at the sensation of her nose and throat sore from breathing in water. He tightened his grip of her and pushed the hair sticking to her face, reassuring her. She calmed down but had no control over the cough she was seized with. Thomas gave the middle finger to Janson, who was watching them from the windowsill and the group swam to shore. Grace let Thomas pull her with him, out of breath. Only when he put her on the edge of the pool before he even got out of the water, did she realize she was sobbing, panting, coughing and shaking all at once. He pulled Minho and Newt out of the water and helped Grace get on her feet when soldiers ordered them to stay where they were, their machine guns aiming at them. There weren’t many options, so they obliged. While staring at the soldiers, Thomas whispered to Grace to help her calm down. He tried to reach for the handgun at his thigh, but they saw him, advising him not to do that.

“Get on your knees with your hands in the air.” Grace gasped loudly and widened her eyes when one of the soldiers started firing at his peers, stunning them with the electric shots. Once they were all down, he came towards them and took off his mask. Her jaw dropped when she saw Gally standing right in front of them.

“Minho. Grace.” He nodded at them before looking up the building. “You guys are nuts.”

“I’ll explain later.” Thomas then told Minho and his sister, who looked at each other in shock before walking away. Grace heavily relied on her brother’s support to walk along them. She could feel her legs almost giving way with every step. It took so much energy from her; she would have never been able to walk on her own. She barely managed to take deep breaths. Sneaking through the city was really not easy on her. They slid on the ground, hiding from the soldiers looking for them. Thomas sat her down against the grove's half wall, in between him and Gally. She held her arms with a low moan of pain through her teeth. She almost felt even more drained than back there.

“Well, they’re definitely pissed.” Gally declared.

“How far are the tunnels?” Thomas enquired as he took off his soaked gloves, looking at his sister with concern. She was way calmer now, but he could tell she was in a lot of pain, on top of being exhausted.

“Uh, maybe blocks from here.” They all looked ahead of them upon hearing Newt, who was a few feet away, sitting next to Minho, started coughing his lungs out. Grace stared at him, not understanding what was wrong with him at first but when it clicked, her face dropped, and she felt her heart and stomach sank to her feet. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be infected. They were supposed to be immune to this. Gally looked at the two siblings. “We can make it.”

Thomas didn’t say anything. Him and Gally crouched behind the wall, on the look out but she kept staring at Newt. She had just reunited with her friends, and she was faced with the realization that one of them was dying and that she could save him with all the fucking vaccines or whatever that they made using her, but they needed time to get said cure. She was so focused on the fact that Newt was dying that she completely overlooked the reappearance of Gally. Minho came towards them.

“Hey. How long has he been like this?”

“He’ll be okay. We just gotta get to Brenda.” Thomas said, taking off his jacket. “She’s got the serum. Come on, let’s go.”

Thomas tried to help his sister get up, but she pushed him away, telling him to take care of Newt. Minho and Gally, or either of them, could help her. They watched him catch Newt as he almost fell over and walked away. Until then, she hadn't really cared about the sticky feel of her soaked clothes on her skin, but she suddenly couldn't bare it anymore and leaned forward, moaning from the pain as she tried to pull the blouse off.

“Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy, Grace. Don’t hurt yourself.” Minho hastened to stop her and helped her take off the blouse. Gally's eyes slid down her arms as she fell back against the low wall. Like every single one of them when they saw all the bruises, he couldn’t help but stare in shock, though he tried to control his expression, she could tell in his eyes. He was taken out of his stupor by Minho’s voice. “Why you helping us, Gally? I put a spear through your chest.”

“Yeah. Nobody’s perfect, man.” He shrugged it off and was about to help Grace up but a quick look from Minho was enough to make Gally understand that he got this so the latter just stood up, patting him on the shoulder and walked off.

“Can you stand?” She nodded and he put her arm around his shoulder, holing her by the waist and they just started following Gally and Thomas when she spoke with a faint voice.

“Minho… did they do something to you?”

“They put me through a bunch of simulations, but they only did it a couple of time.”

“Okay. Good…” She nodded, resting her eyes as they walked. She was relieved to hear that Teresa did keep her word and stopped the experiments on him and the others.

“What did you do, Grace?” His question got her to look at him from the corner of her eyes and the silence that followed pushed her to say something. Her brother and Newt were far ahead but not Gally. She knew he would hear but it wasn't that much of a problem. She just didn't want Thomas to know about all this. For now, anyway. On the way, she proceeded to tell him about the day Teresa came to talk to her, trying to get her to cooperate, and she ended up agreeing to do all this and that her only condition to this was for them to leave Minho alone and not use him for any experiments of any kind. She could tell he was upset to hear all this, but the guilt outweighed it. He came out of this safe and sound because she took it all on her. She didn’t have to tell him about how they drew her blood almost every day, leaving her bedridden and in a medically induced coma for a while. She didn’t tell him about the anxiety-inducing nightmares of her drowning or about how sick she gets when she looks at her arms now.

“Anyway… I’ll recover from this.”

“They tortured you—”

“And I agreed to it. It was a shit decision, but it doesn’t matter…” She shook her head, letting out a sigh. “You should go help Thomas with Newt.”

“Grace, you can barely walk on your own.”

“I’ll help her.” Gally turned to them and pushed by Grace, Minho went ahead and put Newt’s arm around his shoulder. She took a step forward and it was enough for her to lose her balance and catch herself on the arm that Gally held out to her. They resumed their walk and stopped in their tracks again, watching an explosion occur further ahead of them. “We’re supposed to take down WICKED, not the whole damn city.”

“Gally, come on.” Thomas urged him to continue on their way and Grace had to wait for him to follow them and looked up at him observing the fire left by the explosion. He didn't seem so thrilled with how far this was going but she didn’t really care. She already had a hard time with Gally back in the Glade and she still wasn’t too fond of him, but he seemed nicer than he used to be. If someone had told her that she would stop hating Gally one day and that he would even go so far as helping her out, she wouldn’t have believed it. When you remember how he ran after her and she taunted him from the top of a tree after she tried out for the Builders during the first week, she would have never thought she would even accept help from him.

[To be continued…]

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Published (26/06/2023) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405 @kika64

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