#zammie

[g-girlshavingfun]

Zach: I’ve only had Cammie for for a day and a half.

Zach: But if anything happened to her I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

[gildengirl]

“Oh, and Cammie.” At the sound of his voice, I spun around, expecting to hear him crack a joke or call me Gallagher Girl. The last thing I expected was to feel his arms sliding around me, to sense the whole world turning upside down as Zach dipped me in the middle of the foyer and pressed his lips to mine. Then he smiled that smile I'd come to know. “I always finish what I start.”

- Ally Carter, Cross My Heart and Hope to Spy

[cammie-morgan-goode]

In OSOT, when cam comes back, zach says it's different, and he seem a bit distance quite a while, with him & bex always together. Do you think he's also mad at cam that's why? Or something else?

Oh my poor Zachy boy…

Zach’s mad. He’s furious with Cam. He’s pissed at her.

But not for the reasons we think.

Zach is the one who gave Cammie the idea of running away. He said so in OGSY. He told Cam that they should run. That they would keep each other safe. And Cam told him no. Cammie told him that that was not an option.

And what does she do? She leaves without him and she runs.

Zach doesn’t know where she is. She didn’t leave a note for anyone, she didn’t say goodbye, she’s just gone.

Zach has nobody. He can’t go home. He can’t go to his mom. He can’t go back to school. He doesn’t know if Cammie is even alive until they find her in Switzerland. And during that time he has Bex. And Bex is the only constant in his life that summer. She is the only one keeping his feet on the ground and keeping him from doing something stupid. Because if he can’t find Cammie, what does he have left? Joe’s in a coma for goodness sake.

And then to make matters worse, Cam comes back and she’s different. She can’t remember anything from that summer. He doesn’t even want to think about what she could’ve endured. He doesn’t want to process that. Between the sessions with Dr. Steve, the weapons incident, the memory loss, the fact that the Circle is still out there…

He tried to find Cam and he failed.

Things are different between them and while Cam is trying to process that and her missing summer, Zach is trying to process the fact that anything could have happened to Cammie and there was nothing he could do to stop that.

[theycallmetatertot]

after twelve gregorian years I have returned from the dead

[doodle-do-wop]

Zammie for Halloween!!

Cammie (as Buffy) and Zach (as Spike)

[superblycaffeinated]

Run Away With My Heart:

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 💙 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

I’ve seen Zach Goode in almost every way a person can see another person. 

In casual clothes with deep enough pockets for contraband m&m’s to offer to a subject he’s 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 he’d never admit it, a little jealous of a normal boy in a normal town. Or with taped knuckles and sweat slick skin, telling me I’m pretty good, Gallagher Girl. I’ve seen him even further dressed down, in nothing but a towel, or barefoot in blue jeans - cooking bacon, shirtless. 

Even in ways you don’t see with your eyes, I’ve seen Zach. I see him in the same way he sees me. Like I’m 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 don’t have to say it. The understanding in our gazes on one another, whether we’re feeling pain, heartbreak, loneliness, joy - it doesn’t matter. 

I’ve seen the way he looks at me, right before he’s going to kiss me. The way his green eyes always look at my lips, then my eyes when he’s thinking about it. I’ve seen the way his tongue swipes over his top lip, like he’s thinking, like he’s analyzing his next move, and I’m it. 

And no one can blame me for seeing these things, or noticing these things, because, well, I’m a spy. 

Which, coincidentally, is the way I’m used to seeing Zach when he’s dressed like this. And while Zach Goode is always a spy, he seems to especially be one when he’s wearing a tuxedo. 

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. 

I frown when Zach smirks. 

When you see Zach Goode smirking, you’re probably already in trouble. 

“I hate it when they do this,” a thick British accent floats and glides like music notes next to my left, accompanied with a sigh. 

Bex’s 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.

“Do what?” I steal the glass from her and take a sip myself, rolling my eyes at the eyebrow raise it grants me. 

She nods her head towards the two I’d just been staring at. “Look like that. Handsome,” she starts pointing around the bustling room, suited and tuxed man after man, “Every last one of them more attractive in their bloody dress clothes than the last. It’s foul, and unholy, and should be ille-“

“How many glasses of this have you had?”

She waves a dismissive hand and takes it back, mumbling into the lip of the glass, “A few.”

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. 

“Thank you for the drink, Rebecca.” 

My Aunt Abby smiles at Bex’s frown. 

“I am allowed to drink, you know. I’m nineteen.”

“In London,” my Aunt clarifies.

“Pretty sure I’m nineteen everywhere…” Bex muses.

“Don’t be cute.” Abby waggles her finger. 

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.

“Speaking of cute,” I smile at Aunt Abby, “You and Agent Townsend seem pretty smitten tonight.”

Aunt Abby sighs dramatically, but it’s 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. 

“He does look so handsome in a tux.” She tilts her head, freckled cheeks blushing when he looks up and smiles at her. When he looks away, Abby murmurs, so quietly I don’t think she even realizes she said it, “I’m gonna marry that man.”

Bex grabs two new champagne flutes as a tray passes, and hands one to me as Abby walks towards Townsend. 

“Good lord, did she mean tonight?” Bex chokes on her sip. 

“I…” 

Aunt Abby glides across the dance floor, her sights set on her target, but she’s intercepted by a woman in a white gown spinning. 

My mom’s laugh is louder than the music, smile brighter than the dress as she catches her sister’s hand and let’s go of her groom’s. She presses her forehead to Abby’s, giggling like girls far younger than they are while whispering. 

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.

“So,” Bex clears her throat, “CIA next month. Georgetown too.”

She isn’t asking a question, but I nod anyways, answering. 

“I know loverboy over there is a great spy and all-“

“Loverboy?”

“You heard me.” Bex stands up straight and faces me, a soft smile on her lips as she shrugs. “If I can’t be the one backing you up, I’m glad it’s him, for what it’s worth.”

“Bex,” I start, unsure how to speak around whatever’s stuck in my throat. It’s not like this is goodbye. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.

So that’s what I tell her. “We’re going to see each other all the time. And talk on the phone and-“

“Oh I know,” she smiles, raising her eyebrows, “You’ll be calling me tomorrow to tell me all about tonight.”

“Tonight?” 

She rolls her eyes in dramatic Bex fashion, “Cammie, my love, yes tonight is the night. Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking he looks delicious and you’re starving or that he hasn’t been looking right back like he’s going to eat you.”

My cheeks are literally on fire as I hiss her name and she holds up her hand and interrupts. 

“Chameleon, you know you shouldn’t lie when you’ve already been caught. Oh, speaking of yummy things, there is a snack over at the cake table that requires my attention, excuse me.”

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.

“Ah, Miss Morgan, I’d like you to meet someone.”

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. 

“So sorry for the interruption,” his voice confidently comes from over my shoulder, deeper than normal, “But may I steal Cameron?”

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.

“Of course, I’ve monopolized her for far too long, I’m sorry…” the man extends his hand to Zach as he trails off.

“Goode,” Zach’s voice gets even deeper, extending his hand and firmly shaking, “Zach Goode.”

Hard to contain my eyeroll on that one. 

“Oh yes, Townsend was just raving about you as well. Excited what you two will get up to in August.”

The man points to both of us with a sly smile and heads off. 

Zach’s arms wrap around my waist, spinning me unwillingly onto the dance floor. 

“No!” I laugh, swatting at his chest, “Put me down, Zach! And where’d your coke go?”

He tilts his head and hooks a thumb at his chest, “Spy. And it was a Dr. Pepper, you’re slipping Miss Morgan.”

The last bit said in a perfect British accent. 

Also, dang. I am slipping - but it’s Summer break, and…

Zach spins me slowly, it’s more of a sway in the middle of the dance floor as he whispers, “Where’d you go, Gallagher Girl?”

I smile, hands flat against his chest, “Just thinking that it’s Summer break, except it’s not a break. It’s just Summer. And the rest of our lives start next month and everything’s changing and I don’t know if I’m ready.”

The last part comes out quiet, barely a whisper, but I know he hears it, because his arm around my waist tightens. 

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. 

My head falls against his chest, right in the perfect spot below his chin, so it’s easy for his voice to slip lower, so only I can hear it.

“It is Summer, that’s a fact, so you got me there. Personally, I’ve always been more of a winter guy myself, so I get it. It sucks.”

I laugh, forgetting I’m dancing until he spins me again, smiling at my eye roll before he’s bringing me back into his chest. 

It deflates beneath my cheek from the long exhale, “Everything is changing, but change can be a good thing. Now, tell 16 year old Zach and he’d be arguing on your side, but I don’t know…this guy, dancing with you…he’s a pretty big fan of change.”

My nose presses to his chest, his hand squeezes my hip.

“And Cam, you’re more ready than anyone I know. And I’ll be with you, so that’s not changing.”

We stop dancing, and I look up at him, swallowing.

“And the rest of our lives starting next month?”

Zach smiles and shrugs. “I say, bring it on.”

His smile falls slightly, fingers catching a piece of my up-do and twirling it before he adds on, “Decided on if you’re dorming it up at Georgetown yet?”

I shake my head, “I haven’t, but I’m leaning towards no. With the hours and work I’ll need to do for Townsend, I don’t think I can swing it. Unless they find me someone with the same clearance…”

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.

Zach’s breath sucks in, his question after a rush of air out. 

“Well, what if we lived together?”

We aren’t dancing anymore, just standing in the middle of the dance floor, bodies twirling and swaying around us. 

“Wh-what?”

Zach smiles, my shock and surprise the confidence boost he needed. He grabs my hands and pulls me closer, “Come on Cam, this isn’t a surprise. You’re a spy.”

He twirls me and he keeps talking, his thumbs swiping over the back of my knuckles he’s staring at. “A spy who needs a roommate who gets her. One that’s excited for the rest of their lives to start. Together.”

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, “What are you excited about?”

Zach pulls me off of the dance floor, tugging me close to his side as he lists, “Excited to find shitty furniture we never sleep on cause we’re 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. We’ll have waffles for dinner every night because we can. So yeah,” Zach sighs, his nose and forehead against mine as we come to a stop. “When I hear the rest of our lives start next month, I say: Bring it on.”

I’ve kissed Zach Goode in a lot of public places, in front of all sorts of people.

But never after he said something like that. 

Our lips slot together like magnets that can’t help what’s in their nature, and the only reason they’re separated is because of some outside force pulling them apart, like needing to breathe. 

There’s 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,

“Can we please get out of here?”

“God,” he laughs, kissing my cheek, “Thought you’d never ask.”

We slip outside, my heels and his fancy shoes sinking into soft grass until I’m laughing and telling him to stop, that my heel is stuck. 

So he’s picking me up and leaving my shoes there and placing me in the passenger seat of a car I don’t recognize. 

Breathless, but not because he’s out of shape, as he holds up an old hotel key with a smile when he gets into the driver’s side.

“Well that was presumptuous of you.”

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. “Wait, no, we don’t have to-“

My lips easily interrupt him and he eagerly matches their movement, kissing him like I haven’t before. Kissing him like I’m ready for next month, for all the change, because he’s going to be at my side. I kiss him until I can’t possibly not breathe anymore and he tries to follow my lips as they leave his. 

“Zach.” I smile at his blinking eyes, his dazed expression.

“Yeah?” 

“Bring it on.”

***

It’s 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. 

And then we’re in the room.

The door closes slowly behind me with a soft click, there’s 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 he’s looking at my mouth then my eyes. 

His tongue swipes over his lip and I can’t help but smile, which makes him pause his leaning.

“What?”

I shake my head, fingers playing with the lapels of his jacket.

“Nothing.”

He raises his eyebrows at me as if to say “Really?”

His thumb swipes over my cheek, tilting my head so I have to look at his unrelenting stare until I’m too hot under it.

“You just…do something every time you’re about to kiss me,” I admit quietly. 

Zach blinks, lips twitching up on one side. 

“Yeah?” He asks it quietly, smugly, like I’m the one with the tell and not him.

“Mhm,” I sigh as his hand travels to the back of my head, cradling it and gently directing me. 

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. 

When he reaches my neck, he drags his mouth down my throat, pulling out a noise I didn’t know I could make through my parting lips as his fingers tighten on the back of my neck. 

He speaks into my skin as he backs me up towards the door, “You have a tell too, Cam.”

“Wh-what?” My hands fall, pressing to the wood behind me. 

Zach hums into my shoulder, placing a kiss next to my strap before murmuring, “You bite your lip when you want me to kiss you.”

And if my bottom lip was between my teeth as he said it, at least he didn’t see it.

“Like right now.” 

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.

“Nice try,” 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, “And just in case I don’t do my tell, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

I’ve had a lot of kisses with Zach. 

Dramatic, cinematic, dip-in-the-foyer-and-deliver-a-cheesy-line kind of kissing. Angry kissing, where we’re both mad, and hurt, and let’s be honest just scared, so it’s fast and passionate and a little mean. Reassuring kisses, that have just as much passion behind them, but softer, sweeter. We’ve shared the I love you, overjoyed kind of kissing where it’s not so much a kiss as it’s two smiles pushed up against each other, teeth bumping and not sexy at all. And then there’s the sort of lazy, effortless, we don’t have to be anywhere and hey we’re alone for what could be minutes or hours and just-

Well, we’ve made out.

A lot. 

Which I’m not going to explain myself for because I feel like it is every couple’s right to make out in general, and it’s not like Zach is the first guy I’ve done so with. 

He’s the second.

But, despite minimal…experience… we’ve gotten pretty good at it, I like to think. It’s been fun to learn I like him pulling my lip and he likes me tugging on his hair just a little bit. It’s 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, it’s 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 didn’t want to have sex in a hay bale on a farm and he didn’t want to in a car and we haven’t 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. 

There’s been a lot of that kind of kissing lately.

But never kissing like this. 

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. 

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 I’m sighing and tugging at his waist, needing him closer. 

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 it’s whispered into my lips like a secret, before he’s tugging on my bottom lip, dragging his teeth over it. 

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. 

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, “You sure about this Gallagher Girl?” 

I nod and press my lips to his softly, tenderly, making sure he knows all those promises weren’t just words. His fingers curl into the fabric at my waist, his sigh warm against my cheek when he exhales from his nose. 

“Need to hear-“ Zach’s breath is shaky, eyes squeezed closed as I roll my hips against his thigh again, needing more. “Need to hear you say what you want.”

My fingers fiddle with the curls behind his ears, heart thundering and make it hard to hear myself in my own. 

“You, Zach. I want you. All of you,” his eyes open at my rush of admittance, and the way they shine makes that much more spill out of some deep vault I’ve been keeping it all locked up in, “All of you and all of it. The waffles and the movies and the reading and books and I want this. Now, Zach, please.”

“Shit,” it slips out as a whine, some sort of desperate, raw sound that I’m not sure I heard and I’m not sure he knows he made. It matches his actions though, lips crashing into mine, filthy and eager - greedy. Kissing that feels like it’s sole purpose is to swallow me whole and leave not even a crumb of who I used to be without him. 

It’s kissing that I’ve 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 can’t help but need to take. 

“Wait.” 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, “We’ve waited so long.”

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. 

“Zach?” I whisper, my fingers tugging on each other, scared of how quiet he is. “We don’t have to-“

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 I’m sighing and pliant against the door.

Zach’s breath out is mine in as we part and he steals another kiss, chaste and delicate. 

“I want you too, and this, for the record,” he speaks slowly, eyes tracking over all of my features like he’s memorizing them. My cheeks warm and getting warmer under his thumb that’s still brushing it as he smirks, “And yeah, we’ve waited a long time. Which is why, we can wait a little longer.”

“Oh,” I nod, eyes on the floor and trying to remember every single thing I’ve ever learned about keeping a straight face. “Right, well, um-“

“No, shit,” Zach laughs, knocking his forehead to mine again, nose gentle against the bridge of mine, “I just meant I’m gonna take my time is all. Wanna take my time, that okay?”

Zach’s staring at me, his cheeks just as pink as mine, lips a little redder and swollen and he’s clearing his throat like something’s stuck in it when I nod. 

“Yeah,” I murmur, “Yeah, that’s okay. More than okay.”

It’s 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 who’s used to split second decisions and trusting his gut and never knowing when he’ll get to stop running, wants to slow down for this. 

“Cool.” Zach smiles.

“Cool…” it trails off in a laugh when he groans at my repetition.

“God, I thought I’d be so much smoother than this…stupid tux making me think I’m James Bond…”

“Well,” my fingers play with the top button of his shirt, “Why don’t we start there?”

Zach nods, slow, his adams apple bobbing with a swallow as my fingers push at his jacket. 

It drops to the ground as he kicks off his shoes and I do the same to mine. 

Zach’s 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. It’s not gasps for air between frantic kissing anymore, but deep sighs, content, longing, as hands linger on skin revealed until he’s standing in front of me in just his boxers and I’m still in my dress. 

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.

“See something you like?”

The smug phrase isn’t so cocky, with the softened eyes and the quiet tone and the hands gently turning me to face the bed and away from him.

Zach’s 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. 

His lips skim across skin, trailing to my spine as his hands squeeze my hips. 

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 we’re about to leap off of. 

Together.

The back of Zach’s fingers graze my spine with each undone button, his breath hitches in an unfamiliar pattern when he reaches the last one and hits lace. 

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 don’t realize it till he’s 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. 

“Ready Gallagher Girl?”

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.

“Ready, Blackthorne Boy.”

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. 

I’ve seen Zach Goode in almost every way a person can see another person.

Never like this. 

Never with an unwavering gaze. One that’s studying and memorizing, but cherishing - like I can see the wheels turning in his head trying to remember every detail because he’s worried he won’t 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 that’s parted, but truly rendered speechless. 

I’ve never seen him whisper, “You’re so beautiful Cam,” 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. 

Before now, I’d never seen how he looks hovering over me, pressing me into soft sheets. Now, I know he gets a wrinkle between his brows when he’s asking if I’m okay, or that his jaw pulses when I arch my back and say his name like I’ve never said it before. 

There’s 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 can’t 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 I’m 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 it’s when he’s holding me, fingers loop de looping on my bare shoulder and arm that’s draped over him, our legs tangled together with the sheets as both of our breathing becomes slower and slower. 

But I think my favorite is how he looks right now, at the hotel breakfast. 

His hair is a mess, his eyes are sleepy, but bright green as they look up at me. 

He looks different. 

I wonder if I look different too. 

He smiles, waffle shoved in his cheek and I lean forward and swipe syrup from the corner of his lips with my thumb. 

“Yeah, you owe me forty bucks.”

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, “Guys I thought we weren’t-“

“I do not owe you anything, Baxter.” Macey stabs a strawberry.

“She me owes me forty bucks, I know it happened. Open your eyes and look at them.” Bex gestures to the two of us, the two who had just been minding their own business and enjoying their morning. 

I sip my coffee unphased, Zach chokes on his.

Macey groans and Liz lets out a little squeal and Bex looks far too Bexish. 

“Well, that’s my cue, so,” Zach stands and turns to leave, but then turns back around. 

He leans over the table, looking down at me. He looks at my mouth, then my eyes.

I bite my lip.

He smiles. 

He licks his lip.

I smile. 

He kisses me gently, nose tapping mine as he backs away. 

Zach clears his throat, “Ladies.”

And I thought maybe the wink he shot me over his shoulder was actually my favorite Zach, but it turns out, it’s the Zach that’s spilling coffee on himself as he turns around and runs straight into my mother and Joe. 

I’ve seen sarcastic Zach, sad Zach, sexy Zach, sweaty Zach, swoon level off the charts Zach. 

I’ve never seen a Zach so flustered by a simple question. 

“And where’d you run off to last night?”

[scmewhereelse]

Hello I loveeee your prompts, is it too much to request something about what Joe saw in Zach that made him think he is perfect for Cammie? (Cause I believe the theory that he set them up) also, his feels throughout as their relationship progresses? Thanks a lot!

Not me starting to reply and then promptly forgetting it in my drafts for four months, remembering it and obsessing for five days *crying emoji* Than you so much, though, and here you go!!<3<3

Do you ever think that maybe Zach knew about the Circle’s interest in Cammie before Joe did? That his initial interest is spurred not only by Joe’s stories (Matthew Morgan’s daughter, Joe’s best friend’s daughter, a pavement artist: incredibly skilled and so much trouble), but by the name Cameron Morgan travelling from mouth to mouth; whispered in corners, days - weeks - before Zach ever meets her? *

I don’t think Joe set out to have their relationship (necessarily) become a romantic one. He cares about these kids more than anything else in the world, and if inflicting them upon one another can protect them in any way, he’ll do it. They each might just be what the other one needs. To hone their skills. To become better. To become something more than themselves, the sum of their parts.

Zach might have volunteered or Joe chose him to track Cammie that day in January, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that they were always going to meet each other because Joe cannot afford for them not to. Two young, incredibly talented operatives-to-be, more than prepared to cut each other down to size. Cammie is talented and knows it but also trusts too much in her own infallibility while Zach is too sarcastic to know what’s good for him, keeping everybody at arms length.

Joe thinks their first meeting goes well enough, all things considered. Cammie’s pride is stung, but she’s caught Zach’s attention and kept it, which Joe counts an success in and of itself.

So Joe watches as Zach’s gaze follows Cammie in the school halls and how the emotion behind his eye changes as the semester passes by – suspicion, jealousy, curiosity, admiration, care – and knows he is onto something good. He’s not surprised Zach’s attention has latchet onto her, professionally or romantically. Zach deserves those normal teenage experiences Joe never had. He wants him to experience first love and first kisses, the feelings of vulnerability that comes with it and the soaring heights as well. Someone needs to keep this talented, disastrously lost boy out of the same shadows Joe himself got lost in. He will do everything in his power to drag Zach into the light, kicking and screaming, but someone needs to keep him there and if Cammie can do it, Joe’s all for it.

Joe isn’t exactly happy when he finds out Zach read Cammie’s report from the fall semester, earning him a conversation about how friendships require an equal exchange of information to build trust and how he could easily alienate Cammie without it.

Still, it keeps Cammie on her toes. Engaging with Zach – always a step ahead of her, knowing things she doesn’t – forces her to both recognise her own strengths and admit to her weaknesses. She needs to wield these things, to know them and control them. This, Joe knows, is what will keep her alive in the field and he’s not above using Zach to teach her.

The semester ends and looking at Zach, Joe realises there is no way back. He would not be able to untangle these two, even if he wanted to.

Then whispers about a Gallagher Girl start circulating where they shouldn’t. Joe must be more nervous than he realises, because Zach wheedles his way onto the job and Joe lets him. Rachel disapproves, arguing his age, his experience, his schooling. Still, Joe brings Zach with him to Boston and the rallies, realising Zach will do this with or without Joe’s blessing and there’s nothing Joe could do to stop him. At least this way Joe can keep an eye on Zach and he can in turn keep an eye on Cammie (who, by the way, is very determined not be kept an eye on, making all of this very difficult).

Zach and Joe only talk about Zach and Cammie once. It is too late to warn him off; Joe never wanted to do that. He knew what would likely happen when he introduced them, but he also knows just how difficult it is to love someone working in this profession. You might trust their skill, their instinct, but part of you will always worry for their safety. And Cammie already has her fathers recklessness and a target on her back bigger than the moon. - Joe might love her, but he loves Zach too. Zach, who has already been through so much, who deserves love, and care, and rest just at much as anybody else. No, Joe doesn’t warn him off. Instead he tells Zach to keep her safe, but keep himself safe as well. That he is not alone and never will be. That he is loved and always will be.

(The Circle comes for Cammie and it’s real, it’s real, it’s real. They didn’t get her this time, but what about the next time? and the time after that?)

A man reveals his past and Joe takes off, running from every letter-combination known to man, leaving Cammie’s safety in the hands of people he does not know. He doesn’t know if he has ever been this scared (except he does; he hasn’t), and he feels guilty beyond measure involving Zach. They will never let him see light of day again if they discover him working with Joe, but Zach has access to her. He has sources and incentives to keep her safe. So Joe allows it, relies on him and works with him, pushing the guilt to the back of his mind, because what other option is there?

The CIA gets him anyway and Joe wouldn’t have done anything different, because the alternative would have been so much worse. The Circle takes him and Joe wouldn’t have done anything different, because Zach and Cammie will find the journal, just as he need them to. The tombs explode, and if he was conscious he wouldn’t have done anything different because the two of them are alive. They will live to fight another day. Together.

Except Cammie disappears and Joe’s not there to learn just how well he taught her or just how much she takes after her father. He’s not there to warn Zach off from taking off after her or hug him when he returns, unsuccessful. He’s not there when Rachel cries by his bedside or when Cammie finally, finally returns, worse off than when she left. He does not see Zach’s trembling hands or hear in his voice the guilt eating him alive when he explains that Cam killed someone. She killed someone and Zach wasn’t there. He wasn’t where he should have been. He promised he’d protect her and he didn’t. (The same guilt will eat at Joe when Rachel finally tells him. He failed to be there when it counted. He failed Matthew. again. again. again- but more importantly: he failed to protect his daughter and Joe will never forgive himself for that.)

He wakes up and he forgives Zach for not protecting Cammie, for not finding her: there is nothing to forgive. This burden was never his to bear, even if it feels that way, even if he loves her. The fault does not lie with Zach, nor with anyone else but the people who took her. (Who tortured her.) He asks only that Zach stays with her for what comes next, knowing the redundancy of his question. The two of them are as inevitable as the push and pull of the tide, a force of nature too powerful to be influenced by the likes of Joe Solomon. He loves them more for it.

(What do you call those, who created gravity so that the sea might pull away from the shore and return again stronger? A god, perhaps. Or maybe just Joe Solomon.)

*he says in oot he hears about it in summer, nevermind

[one-of-them-queers]

in honour if valentines day here are my fav ships in no particular order

steddie

wolfstar

jegulus

avery/jameson (idk if theres a ship name???)

zammie

[mudzam]

⬛🟪: zam, recoin minecraft-adhd, please. i miss it from tl./silly - you know who i am

MINECRAFT ADHD

an adhd sublabel that feels related to minecraft and has symptoms based off of it, for example:

getting intense hyperfixation on minecraft and minecraft related content

relating everything back to minecraft logic

feeling like your hyperfixation is intense and neverending, sometimes may feel like an addiction

doing things irl like you would in minecraft

etc etc!

I GOTCHU I WAS GONAN DO IT BEFOREYOU DISCOVERED MY BLOG BUT I WAS DISTRACTED 🙏🙏🙏

[creaturehollow]

I feel like if they could actually meet, Nora and Zammy would get along pretty well lol

[gildengirl]

“Zach,” I said as I lay there. “Where did you go? When you were looking for me?” I shifted in his arms, looked into his eyes. “Crazy.” His voice was a whisper against my skin. “I went crazy.”

- Ally Carter, Out of Sight, Out of Time

[cammie-morgan-goode]

On the deleted scenes, Ally said that instead of Cam seeing Mr. mosckowitz working out, Zach is also an option. But she still wrote Mosckowitz on the deleted scene. Can you fulfill my (& I know most of us, ahem) fantasy of it being Zach??? Thanks!!!

There's something weird about having boys go to your all-girls school. For one, it's an all-girls school which means no boys. For two, it's a whole different thing when said boys are trained better than you are.

Cammie hadn't realized that with the arrival of these boys, a ton of drama would ensue. She felt like she was drowning. And for the first time in her life, she was starting to feel like she just wasn't good enough.

There was a time when she was one of the best in her class. There was a time when people would see her train and think "I aspire to be that".

But now she was being overshadowed.

And for being the Chameleon? She didn't like it at all.

"One of a girl's greatest assets are her feet. If you cannot balance on the balls of your feet and anticipate where your opponent's feet are moving, you will not make it away from a fight." Ms. Hancock tells them, making her way along the mats on the ground. "Pay attention to your partner's feet. Pay attention to their movements. Do they lean on their left foot before they move? Do they suck in a breath before they punch? Do they pay more attention to your feet or your hands? Anything can give away your next move, ladies,"

Cammie stared at Bex across from her, watching her best friend smirk. She'd been sparring with Bex since the sixth grade. She knew that Bex favored her left leg. She knew that Bex's weakness were her knees and her hair. (Which could be anyone's weakness, but Bex made it personal!)

And without hesitation, Cammie's arm shot out, aiming for Bex's head. Bex dodged it easily, leaning onto her right hip. She ducked and swung her leg out, aiming for Cammie's left knee. But, Cammie sidestepped, making Bex fall to the mat.

Ms. Hancock called time and Cammie helped Bex up off the mats. The two girls grabbed their water bottles, drinking from them eagerly. They started following each other out, chattering on and on about nonsense. Cammie didn't even turn as the group of boys entered the P&E barn, faces already red from doing runs outside.

Bex was the one who stopped her though, hand flying out in front of Cammie's chest before she even made it off the mats. Cammie almost yelled at her in protest until she followed Bex's gaze.

The group of boys, some with their shirts off, were already shoving and pushing each other. They were loud and energetic, hyped up with excitement for their workout. Cammie had never seen anything like it.

Her gaze snags on a certain boy with dark hair, separated from the rest. His shirt is slowly getting drenched in sweat as he lags behind. Most would think he's slow and a weak link but, Cammie knew better. And she hated that the boy in question was making his way over to her.

Or so she thought.

Zach stopped a few feet behind the girls, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. He lifted his arms up above his head, his shirt lifting again. The Blackthorne boy shifted on the balls of his feet. Cammie couldn’t stop the image of Zach’s toned calves from entering her mind.

Cammie could feel her cheeks turning red which had nothing to do with the sweat already on her body. She wasn't staring of course but, she could see Zach out of the corner of her eye.

The boys were split away from each other. Some were down on the ground, doing pushups, their legs out straight and their chests a mere inch from the floor. Others had taken it upon themselves to throw punches at each other. But not Zach.

Zach was working out alone, no partner. No spotter. He preferred it that way.

Cammie tried not to notice Zach in the corner of the barn. She tried to focus on her own training or even moving her feet forward. But that was nearly impossible when the Blackthorne Boy in question was doing pull ups.

Zach's face was scrunched up with concentration as he pulled himself up over the bar. He alternated his legs, bringing them to his stomach and then letting them fall, never breaking stride.

Cammie could see the muscles straining beneath his shirt, see the tightening of the skin on his biceps. She could only imagine the smooth skin of his abs glistening with sweat. She knew he had lost count but, Cammie hadn't. 12... 13... 14...

Cammie hit the mat with a thunderous smack.

Her head hit the floor hard, her body crumbling beneath her. The fall left her gasping for air, chest heaving. And all she could see was Bex's snickering expression above her.

"Distracting, huh, Cammie dear," Bex said in her perfect accent.

Cammie coughed, trying to get air back into her lungs. She glared at Bex. Her eyes wide with anger. Until a tall figure entered her cloudy vision.

"Need a hand, Morgan?" Zach said, his eyes glistening with pride. He held out his hand again, this time in her line of sight.

Cammie cleared her throat and grabbed his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. Cammie couldn't look him in the face. She knew her face was redder than Liz when she fell asleep by the pool in Alabama.

"Do you find me distracting, Gallagher Girl?" Zach asked, smirking so wide. He was practically grinning from ear to ear. And Cammie hated it.

"In your dreams, Zachary." Cammie said quickly, before turning on her heel and nearly running out of the barn.

She didn't think she ever felt heat like that when she was training before.

And she wouldn't mind if she felt it again.

(Written by: @cammie-morgan-goode)

[theycallmetatertot]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Gallagher Girls Series - Ally Carter Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rachel Morgan/Joseph "Joe" Solomon Characters: Zachary Goode, Joseph "Joe" Solomon, Elizabeth Sutton, Other Character Tags to Be Added, Original Child Character(s), Rachel Morgan (Gallagher Girls) Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Canon, Grief/Mourning Summary:

When Zach has the kidnapping of a twelve-year-old girl tossed into his lap, it's all he can do to manage a lack of leads, a mystery private security consultant, and a mentor hell-bent on saving him from himself.

He's not anticipating the face he sees in the middle of a crowded train station.

[doodle-do-wop]

I'm a zammie trash sorry 😭 what surprises do you think zach will pull when Cammie graduates from Georgetown? Do you think they'll move into a new apartment and stuff?

Maybe no moving just yet (she did just finish college) but Zach definitely decorated the apartment with little streamers and balloons while Cammie was busy being kidnapped prepped by her best friends who pretty much out full pause on everything to be there for Cammie

Macey did her make-up, Bex picked her shoes, Liz did her hair and helped out the finishing touches on her cap.

Meanwhile Zach has paid them extra to please not let her near the apartment by any means nessessary.

So they called in reinforcements: Anna Fetterman

Anna's always been small and kinda innocent looking. If you placed her in a police line up you'd think she just got lost trying to ask if she could put up a poster for her missing cat. You wouldn't think sweet Anna Fetterman, who still trips on pill bugs, is part of your boyfriend and girl friend's nefarious schemes. Not when she looks so happy to see Cammie, saying she came all the way down from Greenland because she remembered today was the big day (technically not a lie).

The girls had gone out on the town while the clock ticked down until the hour of the big day arrived. Joe and Rachel were already in their seats and Zach swears he saw tears in Joe Solomon's eyes as their small group cheered while Cammie walked the stage. Abby might've blown out the whole stadium with her cheering as Townsend smiled one of his few rare smiles.

By the time the girls finished their crying and hugging and endless picture taking and more crying and hugging, there was still more to be done. Dinner celebrations, plenty of congratulating and party planning for the next day (Cammie had to stop Bex before she reignited the argument of whether or not they should break into the National Mall for a 'girls night')

Zach gently whisked Cammie home as she said goodbye to her friends and family for the night. Promises of an eventful tomorrow sure to come soon.

Cam knew Zach had done something. It's Zach, if small things like surviving finals week got her the best 8 hour sleep of her life, he definitely would bring out the big guns for a graduation.

The apartment was decorated alright, but not in the 'lets keep this party going' kind of way. There was a banner congratulating her and balloons. Streamers were put up carefully in a suspiciously similar manner to the way Tina Walters used to decorate the common room for birthdays. But there wasn't a bottle on the table, no candles were lit.

Zach had put out her favorite blankets, made the couch into a nest with the rearranged furniture and comfortable pillows.

She barely got a word out before he undid the straps of her heels and picked her up. The fatigue of the day caught up with her as he sat her down, gently hanging up her cap and helping her slide out of the arms of her graduation gown.

He had the make-up wipes ready, her feet were covered with fluffy socks she had stolen from him ages ago. She could relax.

And as he kissed the scars on her skin one by one, little reminders she had survived he smiled as he pressed his lips to another scar before he whispered, "Congrats Gallagher girl."

[superblycaffeinated]

*return to All's Goode in Love & War masterlist here*

Chapters posted Monday nights at 7:00pm Central Time

Year One: At Home In the Dark

Zachary Goode is sixteen, he’s pretty good at what he does (despite being in training still but that's a minor detail he's not too worried about). During his Sophomore year of High School, he is given a proposition that will change his life forever -whether he realizes it at the time or not.

Chapter One

[backgroundhorses]

HAII!! Would yo do Screwball G4? probably the most weird pony hehe... it has really cute design ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა.

you can trust her to do your taxes don't worry just hand over your paperwork she's a silly goofy girl who's completely trustworthy