Multifandom X Reader Stories

Gally TMR X reader

The Glade was dark and quiet, most of the other Gladers long asleep, but you lay wide awake in your bed, fuming. All day, Gally had been trying to get under your skin, laughing and flirting with one of the other female Gladers in a way that felt just a little too intentional. You knew the two of you were something—something unspoken, maybe not quite official, but still real. That's why his little stunt had cut deep.

Frustration finally boiled over, and you threw off the thin blanket, slipping out of bed and heading straight for Gally's hut. You didn't care about the late hour, and you certainly didn't care about being quiet. You needed to talk to him. Now.

The door creaked open as you stormed inside without knocking, your mind already racing with the words you were about to throw at him. But the moment you saw him, the words caught in your throat.

He was standing in the dim light, shirtless, his broad shoulders casting shadows across the walls. He turned to face you, a faint smirk playing at his lips as he took in your breathless, stormy expression.

"Took you long enough," he said, his voice low, confident, a hint of satisfaction lacing his words.

You opened your mouth, ready to fire off something sharp, but before you could speak, he crossed the space between you in two strides, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you into him. In one smooth motion, he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as his hands settled firmly around you, fingers pressing into your skin in a way that sent a thrill through you.

Then his mouth was on yours, urgent and possessive, kissing you in a way that made the entire day of jealousy and frustration dissolve. His lips moved against yours with a heat that was almost dizzying, the intensity of it making your heart pound as his grip tightened, pressing you closer.

He broke the kiss, only slightly, resting his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Is this what you came storming over here for?" he whispered, his tone smug, as if he already knew the answer.

You caught your breath, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, fingers tracing the line of his collarbone. "I'm still angry at you, you know," you managed, voice rough but still edged with the fire he'd stirred.

He chuckled, his fingers trailing along your back, the roughness of his hands sending a shiver down your spine. "Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmured, his gaze flicking over your face with that familiar intensity, as if he loved every inch of you, including the anger and fire that had brought you to him.

With a soft, disbelieving smile, you leaned in, capturing his lips again, letting him melt away the last of your frustration, knowing that somehow, with him, that fire was exactly where you both wanted it to be.