Gallagher Girls Master List / Last Updated: 07/29/2024
29 | She/Her/Hers
Hey there! So happy you're here š I drink far too much coffee and red wine, and I've been known to spend too long on graphics and playlists instead of just writing the damn thing.
I truly love Gallagher Girls and I'm always open to asks, comments, you name it - let's talk about theories about their past and their futures and how much we love these fictional characters š
Anyways, you know how this works: I'd tell you I love you, but then I'd have to kill you.
-XX from a superbly caffeinated subpar fanfic author
Current WIPs:
ā¢ So Far, So Goode
ā¢ All's Goode In Love & War
ā¢ I'd Tell You I Love You...drabbles and oneshots
The Ones With Nebraska, Ace, Bombshell & Wise Guy - stories with Matthew Morgan, Rachel Cameron/Morgan/Solomon, Abigail Cameron (And Edward Townsend), Joe Solomon, and Catherine Goode
The Ones With The Chameleon - stories from Cammie Morgan's POV or about her and the people in her life.
The Ones With Zachary *Points to Himself & says "Spy"* Goode - stories from Zach Goode's POV or about him and the people in his life.
The Ones With The British Bombshell- stories from Bex Baxter's POV or about her and the people in her life.
The Ones With Elizabeth "Oopsie Daisy" Sutton- stories from Liz Sutton's POV (And Jonas Anderson occasionally).
The Ones With Macey "Sometimes People Run To See if You'll Come After Them" McHenry - stories from Macey McHenry's POV (And Preston Winters occasionally).
The Ones With The Next Generation Kiddos - stories from the point of view of characters from Sarah Coury's fanfiction next generation series (Maggie, Luke, Matt, Scout, Alice, Charlotte and more)
Goode Times- stories from and about my OC next next generation kids introduced in the series "Goode Intentions"
Hwy can I get a link to the other chapters of So Far so Goode
Btw I loveeee your workš«¶š«¶š«¶
hii!
So I actually only ever posted chapter one of my rewrite, so there aren't any links to other chapters that I could give.
It was really hard to stay excited and motivated for it without some comments or encouragement at that stage of starting it again.
However, I have been returning to it more and poking at it, especially lately. Gallagher Girls is always there when I need her, so I hope I can post some more of their story soon š
Thank you for sending this and your kind compliment! I will keep going and I hope you stick around!
can i ask where the rest of the fics in your master list went? iām new to tumblr so i wasnāt sure if i was missing them!
hi!
I've actually been in the process of re-organizing and re-writing things so some of it is missing from tumblr! After a very long break, I'm finally writing again and have a schedule for posting things, so they should all be back soon - plus new things!
However, all fics should still be on my Ao3 (I go by superbcoffeedrinkersubparwriter there though).
Hope that helps, so sorry for the confusion and I'm so happy you found me here š„°
This is from a list of prompts I had attempted to keep up with in March, let's see if August is the winner instead.
This would have spoilers for Gallagher Girls and The Listen Series by @averagejoesolomon . I like to think it takes place between when Morgan goes back to school & before a capture the flag game in "Love at First Fight".
Cameron Goode & Luke Collins
Rubber soles on cobblestone streets, arms sweat kissed and bumping anything in their way as they pump at her sides.Ā
Sirens.
Her name.
A man with a scar, a fist to her stomach, an arm to her windpipe.
āYou can quit running now, Cameron, thereās nowhere else for you to go.ā
Fingers wrap around his neck, but there are more around hers.
āMrs. Goode!ā
Her neck is free from everything but a cool sweat, her fingers tense around a pulse that should be much more erratic.Ā
Itās dark, room only lit by the moonlight seeping in through cracked blinds, but his hands are raised in surrender, his brown eyes blink calmly as they look down at her.
āMrs. Goode, youāre okay, itās just-ā
She gasps, hands releasing his neck quickly, like a gun, hot from a fresh shot.Ā
āIām so-ā
āItās fine,ā Luke Collins interrupts, he clears his throat thatās dotted in red, some darker splotches forming in the shape of her fingers, āIām sorry. I didnāt know what to do, you were screaming and-ā
āNo, you did the right thing.ā Cameron Goode nods.Ā
He takes his spot on the chair next to the balcony once more, while she settles on the edge of the bed.Ā
She waits for him to say something, but sheās beginning to learn, on these ops theyāre forced to go on together, that he doesnāt talk much, and when he does, it isnāt often heās the first to break a silence.Ā
āNightmare,ā she offers limply, wondering how much she can let this kid know. Wondering how much heāll even understand.
He nods, eyes on the blinds as he asks, āDo you need to talk about it?ā
The question surprises her.
Not want to to talk about.
Need.Ā
āNot at the moment, no. Maybe someday.āĀ
Luke Collinsā eyes slice to her, they make her feel like sheās not the most trained operative in the room, like this kid knows more than she ever could.Ā
āDid you at least get some restful sleep?ā
āA little, yeah.ā
The lie is easy, and she wonders when it became so. Because an untrained person might say yes immediately, with no explanation. But this offers some vulnerability, itās not denying her fitful sleep, but itās not the full truth. Most people would leave it, they wouldnāt poke at the holes, they wouldnāt dig for more.Ā
Sheās beginning to learn Luke Collins isnāt most people.
He blows a breath out of his nose, his arms cross, and he says words she aches werenāt true.Ā
āYou look tired, Mrs. Goode.ā
āI see theyāre still teaching you Blackthorne Boys excellent bedside manner.ā
āIām not talking about the ways a lack of sleep affects your outward appearance, though, to be frank, youāre not really trying to hide that it seems.
At some point, you concede, because why lie about it when everyone already knows the truth, right?ā
She frowns at Luke and looks at the electric kettle on the small counter top in the corner.Ā
āDo you like tea? Iām making tea.ā
Cammie stands, fingers precise and eyes focused at the little kitchenette and she isnāt expecting him to break the silence as water heats and her teeth rip open a packet.Ā
āYou said her name.ā
She hands a mug to him, empty aside from a tea bagās string dangling over the side that she keeps her eyes on as she asks, āWho?ā
Luke sets the mug on the side table, he leans forward, elbows to his knees.Ā
āMorgan.ā
Her lips form a soft smile as she resumes her spot in front of the kettle, watching the water get warmer and warmer until it canāt help but bubble. Canāt help but wonder when this boy started to say her daughterās name like that.Ā
āIs it odd for a woman to say her daughterās name in her sleep, Mr. Collins?ā
āItās odd for a woman to scream her daughterās name in her sleep, Mrs. Goode.ā
She pours hot water over her tea packet, slowly, watching the clear liquid turn darker before she goes over to his mug and does the same.
āIs it?ā
She sits again, their tea steeps, and neither breaks eye contact.Ā
Neither makes a move to end the silence that follows her question, either.
Until sheās wrapping the string of the bag around her pointer finger three times, looping then unlooping, bobbing it as she smells peppermint and earth in the steam that rises from the cup.
Somehow, the scent reminds her of Gallagher. Of the subs. Of cozy corners in libraries and cobwebbed passageways.
Reminds her of her daughter.
āDid you know,ā she clears her throat, āThat a female deer will leave her new fawn all day long?ā
Luke doesnāt question the change of subject, he doesnāt respond. He simply waits.Ā
She likes that about him.
āThey find a safe place, one they can trust, and they leave their fawn all day. From before the sun rises to well after it goes down. They do this because their babies arenāt ready for the full extent of the day yet, they canāt keep up. They donāt know everything.ā
Cammie sips her tea, fingers curled around both sides of the warm ceramic mug as she sits on top of the bed, crossing her legs like she used to as a kid. Like she used to do as a new mom, Maggie is in front of her and sheās braiding her curls after taming them for hours.Ā
āBut, itās risky, because so much can go wrong that the doe canāt possibly foresee coming. She canāt predict a car, or a hunter, or a predator, all which could keep her from returning. She just has to trust her instincts, she has to do what she needs to do, to provide, and to keep her fawn safe. So she has to trust the place she left her baby, and she has to leave it.ā
Luke has settled back into the chair, brown eyes cold as he says, āDid you know, that fawns left alone often remain alone, due to all those things the doe couldnāt predict but were bound to happen? Leaving the fawn even more vulnerable to hunters, predators, and so much more than if they would have just remained together? That often the fawn ends up dehydrated, starving, or injured?ā
They sit in silence, similar brown eyes blinking at each other in the moonlight, the weight of his words hanging heavier and heavier without a response until she canāt take it anymore.
āWhy do you know so much about deer?ā
āWhy do you?ā
āI think,ā Cammie starts, narrowing her eyes, āThat that didnāt answer my question.ā
Luke finally sips his tea before he admits, āI read a lot.ā
She runs a thumb over the rim of her mug, āI do too. Whatās a favorite?ā
āI like a lot of Shakespeareā¦Anna Karenina is great.ā
She merely hums at his responses, mind somewhere else and too preoccupied to really think about his shocking choices.Ā
āMrs. Goode?ā
Cammie looks up at him, and he licks his lip, just once, before he says, āI think the fawn just wants to know how hard it was for the doe to leave.
She just wants to know that the doe regrets leaving her, wants her to know that she should have known her fawn wasnāt going to stay put. That of all the fawns in the world, she has the most stubborn, most impatient, most irritating one on the planet, and she should have known it was only a matter of time that someone hunted it, found it, and injured it without the doe there to protect it.ā
āMaybe,ā she admits, āOr maybe, the doe is right. That her choice was and is always an impossible one, and she did what she thought was best. That she had to trust her gut and that she knows her baby more than some boy who stumbled upon it by accident.ā
āI think you and I both know from the fawnās reports that, that boy didnāt stumble upon her. The fawn wobbled right up to him and punched his nose without warning.ā
āShe should have punched it harder.ā
The phone rings, and she answers it on the second one, glaring at the boy, all too familiar aside from the eyes.Ā
When she hangs up, she dumps her tea in the sink and doesnāt look at him as she tells him to pack up.Ā
āWhere to this time?ā
She shoves her shoes on, lacing them up as she says, āTo visit the fawn.ā
Luke Collins stalls, his heartbeat picks up, he swallows.
āIs sheā¦whatās going on?ā
Cammie stands, watching him take deep breaths. Heās worried about Maggie.
She likes that about him.
She hastily reassures, āSheās fine. Everything is fine. Alex Hughes has just agreed to talk to us.ā
āOh,ā his shoulders visibly relax.
āUh-huh.āĀ
He grabs his bag, already packed and begins to follow her towards the door, when she spins.
āBefore we go, the doe, thinks it is in the best interest of the fawn for this conversation to remain between her and the boy, what does he think?ā
Collinsā shoulders roll back as he states, confidently, āI think that we should stop referring to Morgan as a helpless fawn, or the baby, and start treating her like who she is.ā
āAnd whoās that?ā
āA girl who did an awful lot of growing up without her mom around, and should be allowed to know more than she does right now.ā
āWould you like to hear what I think about that?ā Cammie grounds her jaw, unsure if she likes this kid or not. Especially when he says,
āNot particularly, no.āĀ
āGreat.ā
āFine.ā
āDo you have any books with you?ā
Luke blinks, not expecting that, so he asks, instead of says, āYes?ā
āGood. Since you like reading so much, you can. The whole plane ride back. Since we wonāt be talking, ever again, or discussing this, anymore.ā
Collins shrugs before he says, āGreat.ā
āFine,ā Cammie growls.Ā
Most people would drop it. Most people wouldnāt keep going, most people wouldnāt stoke a fire thatās already burning.
Luke Collins isnāt most people.
āThey all compare her to him, you know.ā
Cammie blinks.Ā
Luke shakes his head.
āTheyāre wrong.ā
He walks past her, and this kid, this guy, he holds the door open for her still, despite it all.Ā
yay! glad to see youre back! excited to read your work and trust me we always appreciate it <3
thank you so so so so much. I knew you sent this months ago, and I'm just responding now. I just felt guilty answering any asks or interacting with anything Gallagher if I kept promising fics and couldn't deliver.
I really appreciate you and anyone who reads and has stuck around. I'm not planning on disappearing again this time š
summary: The one where Zach & Cammie slip away at Rachel and Joe's Wedding | NSFW - this is 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI please | CW: alcohol mention/ "underage" alcohol consumption
A/N: thank you so much for your patience, I hope you love this š it's a smidge on the poetic illusions to sex and not like, full on descriptions, but def still NSFW. The characters in this are over 18.
Also, like, this song is not "sexy" but it is ABSOLUTELY my Zammie song, my OTP forever and ever - for your listening pleasure (seriously, listen to it): Wherever You Will Go by The Calling
Cammie Morgan / Zach Goode
Iāve seen Zach Goode in almost every way a person can see another person.Ā
In casual clothes with deep enough pockets for contraband m&mās to offer to a subject heās tailing without her knowledge. In starched and unfamiliar uniforms, pressed and ironed and the perfect cover, allowing him to be aloof, sarcastic, curious, and though heād never admit it, a little jealous of a normal boy in a normal town. Or with taped knuckles and sweat slick skin, telling me Iām pretty good, Gallagher Girl. Iāve seen him even further dressed down, in nothing but a towel, or barefoot in blue jeans - cooking bacon, shirtless.Ā
Even in ways you donāt see with your eyes, Iāve seen Zach. I see him in the same way he sees me. Like Iām being seen, really seen, for the first time every time he looks at me. Every time we know what the other is thinking and we donāt have to say it. The understanding in our gazes on one another, whether weāre feeling pain, heartbreak, loneliness, joy - it doesnāt matter.Ā
Iāve seen the way he looks at me, right before heās going to kiss me. The way his green eyes always look at my lips, then my eyes when heās thinking about it. Iāve seen the way his tongue swipes over his top lip, like heās thinking, like heās analyzing his next move, and Iām it.Ā
And no one can blame me for seeing these things, or noticing these things, because, well, Iām a spy.Ā
Which, coincidentally, is the way Iām used to seeing Zach when heās dressed like this. And while Zach Goode is always a spy, he seems to especially be one when heās wearing a tuxedo.Ā
Zach stands next to Joe Solomon, both men looking at the room with the eyes of operatives and seeing more than most, probably. Joe leans down and says something to him imperceptible due to his minimal lip movements and the bodies gliding across the floor between me and them.Ā
I frown when Zach smirks.Ā
When you see Zach Goode smirking, youāre probably already in trouble.Ā
āI hate it when they do this,ā a thick British accent floats and glides like music notes next to my left, accompanied with a sigh.Ā
Bexās dark skin glows in the light of a pink and tangerine July sunset spilling in through the open tents. Only even more complimented by the hue of the dress Macey carefully selected that hugs and falls over her curves in a way it simply never could on me. She smiles, apples of her cheeks dewy and eyes sparkly as she sips out of a crystal glass that costs more than I can fathom, bubbles bouncing and shimmering in the flute as she sips.
āDo what?ā I steal the glass from her and take a sip myself, rolling my eyes at the eyebrow raise it grants me.Ā
She nods her head towards the two Iād just been staring at. āLook like that. Handsome,ā she starts pointing around the bustling room, suited and tuxed man after man, āEvery last one of them more attractive in their bloody dress clothes than the last. Itās foul, and unholy, and should be ille-ā
āHow many glasses of this have you had?ā
She waves a dismissive hand and takes it back, mumbling into the lip of the glass, āA few.ā
Which is when the champagne is plucked from her fingers, held up to ruby lips that smack together, satisfied, after drinking down the rest in three gulps.Ā
āThank you for the drink, Rebecca.āĀ
My Aunt Abby smiles at Bexās frown.Ā
āI am allowed to drink, you know. Iām nineteen.ā
Bex takes a big breath, and Aunt Abby has that look in her eyes and I know that they will literally go all night, so I interrupt.
āSpeaking of cute,ā I smile at Aunt Abby, āYou and Agent Townsend seem pretty smitten tonight.ā
Aunt Abby sighs dramatically, but itās much more wistful and dreamy than the one Bex gave earlier. Her waves curled hours before still shiny and bouncing as she smiles at the man now standing with Zach instead of Joe.Ā
āHe does look so handsome in a tux.ā She tilts her head, freckled cheeks blushing when he looks up and smiles at her. When he looks away, Abby murmurs, so quietly I donāt think she even realizes she said it, āIām gonna marry that man.ā
Bex grabs two new champagne flutes as a tray passes, and hands one to me as Abby walks towards Townsend.Ā
āGood lord, did she mean tonight?ā Bex chokes on her sip.Ā
āIā¦āĀ
Aunt Abby glides across the dance floor, her sights set on her target, but sheās intercepted by a woman in a white gown spinning.Ā
My momās laugh is louder than the music, smile brighter than the dress as she catches her sisterās hand and letās go of her groomās. She presses her forehead to Abbyās, giggling like girls far younger than they are while whispering.Ā
It feels natural, to watch sisters interact and feel the need to knock my temple against my own. To clink our glasses together and be a little sappy.
āSo,ā Bex clears her throat, āCIA next month. Georgetown too.ā
She isnāt asking a question, but I nod anyways, answering.Ā
āI know loverboy over there is a great spy and all-ā
āLoverboy?ā
āYou heard me.ā Bex stands up straight and faces me, a soft smile on her lips as she shrugs. āIf I canāt be the one backing you up, Iām glad itās him, for what itās worth.ā
āBex,ā I start, unsure how to speak around whateverās stuck in my throat. Itās not like this is goodbye. Itās not like weāll never see each other again.
So thatās what I tell her. āWeāre going to see each other all the time. And talk on the phone and-ā
āOh I know,ā she smiles, raising her eyebrows, āYouāll be calling me tomorrow to tell me all about tonight.ā
āTonight?āĀ
She rolls her eyes in dramatic Bex fashion, āCammie, my love, yes tonight is the night. Donāt act like you havenāt been thinking he looks delicious and youāre starving or that he hasnāt been looking right back like heās going to eat you.ā
My cheeks are literally on fire as I hiss her name and she holds up her hand and interrupts.Ā
āChameleon, you know you shouldnāt lie when youāve already been caught. Oh, speaking of yummy things, there is a snack over at the cake table that requires my attention, excuse me.ā
She steals my drink and spins on her way to the table, the hiss of her name again lost as I take a step towards her and Agent Townsend approaches me.
Bex winks from her spot next to Macey at the cake table and I shake my head, plastering on a smile when I spin to face him.
āAh, Miss Morgan, Iād like you to meet someone.ā
Agent Townsend introduces me to yet another handsome man in a suit who has stories of my parents and high hopes for me and well wishes for my future at the CIA. I nod politely and listen as intently as I can until a hand is sweeping over my lower back, thumb brushing up and down along my spine.Ā
āSo sorry for the interruption,ā his voice confidently comes from over my shoulder, deeper than normal, āBut may I steal Cameron?ā
I turn to see Zach holding a whiskey glass that I am ninety-eight percent sure is just coke. His eyes sparkle, no doubt from the chance to sound official using my full name as the man in the suit nods, sipping his actual whiskey.
āOf course, Iāve monopolized her for far too long, Iām sorryā¦ā the man extends his hand to Zach as he trails off.
āGoode,ā Zachās voice gets even deeper, extending his hand and firmly shaking, āZach Goode.ā
Hard to contain my eyeroll on that one.Ā
āOh yes, Townsend was just raving about you as well. Excited what you two will get up to in August.ā
The man points to both of us with a sly smile and heads off.Ā
Zachās arms wrap around my waist, spinning me unwillingly onto the dance floor.Ā
āNo!ā I laugh, swatting at his chest, āPut me down, Zach! And whereād your coke go?ā
He tilts his head and hooks a thumb at his chest, āSpy. And it was a Dr. Pepper, youāre slipping Miss Morgan.ā
The last bit said in a perfect British accent.Ā
Also, dang. I am slipping - but itās Summer break, andā¦
Zach spins me slowly, itās more of a sway in the middle of the dance floor as he whispers, āWhereād you go, Gallagher Girl?ā
I smile, hands flat against his chest, āJust thinking that itās Summer break, except itās not a break. Itās just Summer. And the rest of our lives start next month and everythingās changing and I donāt know if Iām ready.ā
The last part comes out quiet, barely a whisper, but I know he hears it, because his arm around my waist tightens.Ā
He pulls at one of my hands, kissing my wrist before lacing his fingers with mine and holding it aloft, starting to move us around the dance floor.Ā
My head falls against his chest, right in the perfect spot below his chin, so itās easy for his voice to slip lower, so only I can hear it.
āIt is Summer, thatās a fact, so you got me there. Personally, Iāve always been more of a winter guy myself, so I get it. It sucks.ā
I laugh, forgetting Iām dancing until he spins me again, smiling at my eye roll before heās bringing me back into his chest.Ā
It deflates beneath my cheek from the long exhale, āEverything is changing, but change can be a good thing. Now, tell 16 year old Zach and heād be arguing on your side, but I donāt knowā¦this guy, dancing with youā¦heās a pretty big fan of change.ā
My nose presses to his chest, his hand squeezes my hip.
āAnd Cam, youāre more ready than anyone I know. And Iāll be with you, so thatās not changing.ā
We stop dancing, and I look up at him, swallowing.
āAnd the rest of our lives starting next month?ā
Zach smiles and shrugs. āI say, bring it on.ā
His smile falls slightly, fingers catching a piece of my up-do and twirling it before he adds on, āDecided on if youāre dorming it up at Georgetown yet?ā
I shake my head, āI havenāt, but Iām leaning towards no. With the hours and work Iāll need to do for Townsend, I donāt think I can swing it. Unless they find me someone with the same clearanceā¦ā
I tilt my head just as he did earlier, when he nods, his breath changing in a way that someone else might not notice, but I do.
Zachās breath sucks in, his question after a rush of air out.Ā
āWell, what if we lived together?ā
We arenāt dancing anymore, just standing in the middle of the dance floor, bodies twirling and swaying around us.Ā
āWh-what?ā
Zach smiles, my shock and surprise the confidence boost he needed. He grabs my hands and pulls me closer, āCome on Cam, this isnāt a surprise. Youāre a spy.ā
He twirls me and he keeps talking, his thumbs swiping over the back of my knuckles heās staring at. āA spy who needs a roommate who gets her. One thatās excited for the rest of their lives to start. Together.ā
A faster song starts then, so my heartbeat is masked slightly by the drum beat, but not completely as we stand still and I ask, āWhat are you excited about?ā
Zach pulls me off of the dance floor, tugging me close to his side as he lists, āExcited to find shitty furniture we never sleep on cause weāre in Argentina, or Russia, or, I dunno, Egypt. Excited for when we do get to sit or sleep on that furniture we could show each other our favorite movies and music. Who knows, hand out Halloween candy to neighbors! On Sundays, we can have coffee and read books. Weāll have waffles for dinner every night because we can. So yeah,ā Zach sighs, his nose and forehead against mine as we come to a stop. āWhen I hear the rest of our lives start next month, I say: Bring it on.ā
Iāve kissed Zach Goode in a lot of public places, in front of all sorts of people.
But never after he said something like that.Ā
Our lips slot together like magnets that canāt help whatās in their nature, and the only reason theyāre separated is because of some outside force pulling them apart, like needing to breathe.Ā
Thereās a couple whistles when we break apart and Zach smirks and I frown and I tug on his neck, keeping his forehead pressed to mine as I beg,
āCan we please get out of here?ā
āGod,ā he laughs, kissing my cheek, āThought youād never ask.ā
We slip outside, my heels and his fancy shoes sinking into soft grass until Iām laughing and telling him to stop, that my heel is stuck.Ā
So heās picking me up and leaving my shoes there and placing me in the passenger seat of a car I donāt recognize.Ā
Breathless, but not because heās out of shape, as he holds up an old hotel key with a smile when he gets into the driverās side.
āWell that was presumptuous of you.ā
Zach is not calm, cool, or collected at my statement. His cheeks flush and so does his neck and he shakes his head, waving his hands. āWait, no, we donāt have to-ā
My lips easily interrupt him and he eagerly matches their movement, kissing him like I havenāt before. Kissing him like Iām ready for next month, for all the change, because heās going to be at my side. I kiss him until I canāt possibly not breathe anymore and he tries to follow my lips as they leave his.Ā
āZach.ā I smile at his blinking eyes, his dazed expression.
āYeah?āĀ
āBring it on.ā
***
Itās a hasty drive into Roseville, and an even hastier check in. Full of clammy hands and movements anyone who trained us would be yelling about nerves and getting sloppy. All giggles and stolen kisses on elevators that he whispers into my mouth about how cute I was the first time we met.
How he wishes he could go back and tell that Zach to press the emergency stop button so he had more time with me before I hated him.Ā
And then weāre in the room.
The door closes slowly behind me with a soft click, thereās nothing in our way. Just us and a dimly lit space and tension so thick I get why they say it can be cut with a knife.
Zach swallows as he takes a step towards me, then another, until his hand is cupping my jaw and heās looking at my mouth then my eyes.Ā
His tongue swipes over his lip and I canāt help but smile, which makes him pause his leaning.
āWhat?ā
I shake my head, fingers playing with the lapels of his jacket.
āNothing.ā
He raises his eyebrows at me as if to say āReally?ā
His thumb swipes over my cheek, tilting my head so I have to look at his unrelenting stare until Iām too hot under it.
āYou justā¦do something every time youāre about to kiss me,ā I admit quietly.Ā
Zach blinks, lips twitching up on one side.Ā
āYeah?ā He asks it quietly, smugly, like Iām the one with the tell and not him.
āMhm,ā I sigh as his hand travels to the back of my head, cradling it and gently directing me.Ā
Zach kisses the corner of my lips softly, then my jaw. Hot open mouthed things that have me curling my fingers into his collar, have my breath coming a little sharper.Ā
When he reaches my neck, he drags his mouth down my throat, pulling out a noise I didnāt know I could make through my parting lips as his fingers tighten on the back of my neck.Ā
He speaks into my skin as he backs me up towards the door, āYou have a tell too, Cam.ā
āWh-what?ā My hands fall, pressing to the wood behind me.Ā
Zach hums into my shoulder, placing a kiss next to my strap before murmuring, āYou bite your lip when you want me to kiss you.ā
And if my bottom lip was between my teeth as he said it, at least he didnāt see it.
āLike right now.āĀ
His thumb catches the lip when I try to release it quickly, his eyes glinting as he faces me again. The pad of it drags down my lip, and he watches it as it pops back into place. He swallows, and blows out his breath through his nose.
āNice try,ā he rasps, one hand on the back of my neck and other still holding my jaw. His body presses closer to mine and I reach for his waist on instinct. The tip of his nose bumps mine, lips brushing together in light passes as he whispers, āAnd just in case I donāt do my tell, Iām gonna kiss you now.ā
Iāve had a lot of kisses with Zach.Ā
Dramatic, cinematic, dip-in-the-foyer-and-deliver-a-cheesy-line kind of kissing. Angry kissing, where weāre both mad, and hurt, and letās be honest just scared, so itās fast and passionate and a little mean. Reassuring kisses, that have just as much passion behind them, but softer, sweeter. Weāve shared the I love you, overjoyed kind of kissing where itās not so much a kiss as itās two smiles pushed up against each other, teeth bumping and not sexy at all. And then thereās the sort of lazy, effortless, we donāt have to be anywhere and hey weāre alone for what could be minutes or hours and just-
Well, weāve made out.
A lot.Ā
Which Iām not going to explain myself for because I feel like it is every coupleās right to make out in general, and itās not like Zach is the first guy Iāve done so with.Ā
Heās the second.
But, despite minimalā¦experienceā¦ weāve gotten pretty good at it, I like to think. Itās been fun to learn I like him pulling my lip and he likes me tugging on his hair just a little bit. Itās been interesting to find out when either of us is becoming one with couch cushions with the other draped across them, we both tend to pull out a spontaneous move from P&E and get the upper hand once more. And to put it bluntly, itās been hot, to kiss and kiss and kiss some more and be in various states of half undress and have matching heaving breaths as we say we should slow down, because well, I didnāt want to have sex in a hay bale on a farm and he didnāt want to in a car and we havenāt exactly been alone long enough to speed it up if you catch my drift. So that lead to understanding kisses. Kisses that captured sighs and conveyed promises.Ā
Thereās been a lot of that kind of kissing lately.
But never kissing like this.Ā
Never with Zach in a tux and me in a dress like this. Never pressed up against a door that no one else has the key to. Never in a room, alone, with the promise of no interruptions until we say so.Ā
My lips follow his lead, like that dance all those years ago. Like the one tonight.
Slow, and patient, but eager. Tongue slipping over mine until Iām sighing and tugging at his waist, needing him closer.Ā
His hands slip down my neck, my shoulders, following the curve of my chest and resting at my ribs while mine climb higher, bumping over buttons of the white button down on their way up. Zach breathes harshly against my mouth, my name quiet and full of gravel as itās whispered into my lips like a secret, before heās tugging on my bottom lip, dragging his teeth over it.Ā
My hands are in his hair now, a whine bubbling out my chest when he lifts me just so and with too much ease against the door, so his knee can rest between my spread thighs. His breath hitches when I roll my hips, tugging him closer as I do.Ā
Zach breaks the kissing that turned frantic, both of us taking large gulps of air. His nose traces down mine, green eyes almost black under fluttering lids as he asks, āYou sure about this Gallagher Girl?āĀ
I nod and press my lips to his softly, tenderly, making sure he knows all those promises werenāt just words. His fingers curl into the fabric at my waist, his sigh warm against my cheek when he exhales from his nose.Ā
āNeed to hear-ā Zachās breath is shaky, eyes squeezed closed as I roll my hips against his thigh again, needing more. āNeed to hear you say what you want.ā
My fingers fiddle with the curls behind his ears, heart thundering and make it hard to hear myself in my own.Ā
āYou, Zach. I want you. All of you,ā his eyes open at my rush of admittance, and the way they shine makes that much more spill out of some deep vault Iāve been keeping it all locked up in, āAll of you and all of it. The waffles and the movies and the reading and books and I want this. Now, Zach, please.ā
āShit,ā it slips out as a whine, some sort of desperate, raw sound that Iām not sure I heard and Iām not sure he knows he made. It matches his actions though, lips crashing into mine, filthy and eager - greedy. Kissing that feels like itās sole purpose is to swallow me whole and leave not even a crumb of who I used to be without him.Ā
Itās kissing that Iāve only seen in movies, his hands on my hips and rucking my dress up as his mouth moves against mine hungry, searching. Parted and pushing and pulling precisely, spit slicked lips panting his name in protest when he gasps for a breath he canāt help but need to take.Ā
āWait.ā Kissing stopped abruptly as he squeezes at my waist. Slippery fabric of my dress dragging with his hands as they roam higher again, his head tilted up as he gasps.
I kiss over his jaw, down his throat as I whine, āWeāve waited so long.ā
He lowers me slowly, dress falling back around my thighs as his palms press flat to the door on either side of me. He closes his eyes, forehead knocking against mine as he takes deep, even breaths.Ā
āZach?ā I whisper, my fingers tugging on each other, scared of how quiet he is. āWe donāt have to-ā
His lips interrupt me easily, though slowly. Much slower than how we were just kissing, much more patient and purposeful. His hand cups my jaw again, tenderly brushing over my cheek as his lips hold my top one between his until Iām sighing and pliant against the door.
Zachās breath out is mine in as we part and he steals another kiss, chaste and delicate.Ā
āI want you too, and this, for the record,ā he speaks slowly, eyes tracking over all of my features like heās memorizing them. My cheeks warm and getting warmer under his thumb thatās still brushing it as he smirks, āAnd yeah, weāve waited a long time. Which is why, we can wait a little longer.ā
āOh,ā I nod, eyes on the floor and trying to remember every single thing Iāve ever learned about keeping a straight face. āRight, well, um-ā
āNo, shit,ā Zach laughs, knocking his forehead to mine again, nose gentle against the bridge of mine, āI just meant Iām gonna take my time is all. Wanna take my time, that okay?ā
Zachās staring at me, his cheeks just as pink as mine, lips a little redder and swollen and heās clearing his throat like somethingās stuck in it when I nod.Ā
āYeah,ā I murmur, āYeah, thatās okay. More than okay.ā
Itās so okay and the word okay feels like not an okay one at all to describe what it feels like to hear Zach Goode wants to take his time with me. With this. So completely okay that an operative whoās used to split second decisions and trusting his gut and never knowing when heāll get to stop running, wants to slow down for this.Ā
āCool.ā Zach smiles.
āCoolā¦ā it trails off in a laugh when he groans at my repetition.
āGod, I thought Iād be so much smoother than thisā¦stupid tux making me think Iām James Bondā¦ā
āWell,ā my fingers play with the top button of his shirt, āWhy donāt we start there?ā
Zach nods, slow, his adams apple bobbing with a swallow as my fingers push at his jacket.Ā
It drops to the ground as he kicks off his shoes and I do the same to mine.Ā
Zachās lips are on mine again, zinging and zapping and making something inside my stomach flutter to life as I fumble with the buttons down his shirt. Itās not gasps for air between frantic kissing anymore, but deep sighs, content, longing, as hands linger on skin revealed until heās standing in front of me in just his boxers and Iām still in my dress.Ā
Somewhere along the way, Zach stopped being that boy in an elevator and became a man. His jaw more angled and his hair darker. The muscles of his arms, chest and stomach all highlighted in gold lamp light and shadows as he steps towards me again. His lips lift, lopsided, and in a signature smirk.
āSee something you like?ā
The smug phrase isnāt so cocky, with the softened eyes and the quiet tone and the hands gently turning me to face the bed and away from him.
Zachās breath is warm on my neck, then his lips soft against my shoulder and making me jump and pebbling my skin with goosebumps. A shiver rattles my ribcage as his fingers slip my dress straps down my shoulders.Ā
His lips skim across skin, trailing to my spine as his hands squeeze my hips.Ā
Everything is amplified - the sound of our breath, the ticking of the clock on the nightstand, both of our heartbeats. Each pop of a button on the back of my dress quiet, yet a thunderous step closer to a ledge weāre about to leap off of.Ā
Together.
The back of Zachās fingers graze my spine with each undone button, his breath hitches in an unfamiliar pattern when he reaches the last one and hits lace.Ā
The pads of his fingers glide back up the center of my back, all the way to my hair, where they pull pins and clips till my hair is falling around my shoulders and face.
At one point, I began to hold my dress up, close to my chest, and I donāt realize it till heās stepping up behind me closer. Bare back to bare chest, his arm wrapping around mine, fingers laced together against the fabric.
Zach kisses my shoulder, brushing the newly undone hair to the side so he can continue up my neck, to just beneath my ear where he speaks into my skin.Ā
āReady Gallagher Girl?ā
I spin to face him, to find blinking surprised eyes and hands raised in mid-action. I push down my underwear behind the dress, stepping out of them and then glance up at him.
āReady, Blackthorne Boy.ā
And then my dress is falling in a puddle at my feet, shimmering and cold compared to heated skin on full display for the first time.Ā
Iāve seen Zach Goode in almost every way a person can see another person.
Never like this.Ā
Never with an unwavering gaze. One thatās studying and memorizing, but cherishing - like I can see the wheels turning in his head trying to remember every detail because heās worried he wonāt get a chance to be here again. With a face that looks close to how someone looks when they worship, adore, love undeniably. A mouth thatās parted, but truly rendered speechless.Ā
Iāve never seen him whisper, āYouāre so beautiful Cam,ā before stepping closer to me, with gentle hands that caress and trace over my skin in a way that feels an awful lot like the promises of our kissing. Never seen him swallow and trace my collarbones as I pushed at black elastic on his hips. Or pressed up against me, with nothing separating us anymore.Ā
Before now, Iād never seen how he looks hovering over me, pressing me into soft sheets. Now, I know he gets a wrinkle between his brows when heās asking if Iām okay, or that his jaw pulses when I arch my back and say his name like Iāve never said it before.Ā
Thereās too many new views of Zach to count now, too many that compete for my favorite. How he looks when my hands are in his hair and my legs are around his waist and I canāt really remember how to breathe as our bodies work together like they know how to more than we do. Or how his thumb catches my bottom lip from between my teeth, his other hand pressed to the mattress as he rolls his hips and leans down to capture my moan with his mouth. Or how he looks when Iām saying his name in an almost silent scream and his hands are pushing mine into the mattress and our hips are slowing at the same time. Maybe itās when heās holding me, fingers loop de looping on my bare shoulder and arm thatās draped over him, our legs tangled together with the sheets as both of our breathing becomes slower and slower.Ā
But I think my favorite is how he looks right now, at the hotel breakfast.Ā
His hair is a mess, his eyes are sleepy, but bright green as they look up at me.Ā
He looks different.Ā
I wonder if I look different too.Ā
He smiles, waffle shoved in his cheek and I lean forward and swipe syrup from the corner of his lips with my thumb.Ā
āYeah, you owe me forty bucks.ā
Zach and I blink as Bex slides next to me, Liz next to Zach, and Macey at the end of the table.
Liz blushes and whispers, āGuys I thought we werenāt-ā
āI do not owe you anything, Baxter.ā Macey stabs a strawberry.
āShe me owes me forty bucks, I know it happened. Open your eyes and look at them.ā Bex gestures to the two of us, the two who had just been minding their own business and enjoying their morning.Ā
I sip my coffee unphased, Zach chokes on his.
Macey groans and Liz lets out a little squeal and Bex looks far too Bexish.Ā
āWell, thatās my cue, so,ā Zach stands and turns to leave, but then turns back around.Ā
He leans over the table, looking down at me. He looks at my mouth, then my eyes.
I bite my lip.
He smiles.Ā
He licks his lip.
I smile.Ā
He kisses me gently, nose tapping mine as he backs away.Ā
Zach clears his throat, āLadies.ā
And I thought maybe the wink he shot me over his shoulder was actually my favorite Zach, but it turns out, itās the Zach thatās spilling coffee on himself as he turns around and runs straight into my mother and Joe.Ā
Iāve seen sarcastic Zach, sad Zach, sexy Zach, sweaty Zach, swoon level off the charts Zach.Ā
Iāve never seen a Zach so flustered by a simple question.Ā
I sacrificed myself to save you. I didn't plan to survive. I burnt all the bridges. I intended to break your heart with my death, but that would be all right, because I wouldn't be around to see you. I pretended that you'll mourn me for a while and move on. I convinced myself I was going down in the blaze of glory. That my deed was appreciated. That everything was going to be all right afterwards, and I didn't need to be there to see it.
But I survived. And now I have to look you in the eye. I have to pick up the pieces of the life I shattered and figure out how to put it back together. If it can be done at all.
