I Love This Sm

i love this sm ❤️❤️

Monster 🌹

Description: During the Hydra takeover, the Winter Soldier becomes infatuated with a girl who makes him feel whole.

Pairings: Winter Soldier x Female!Reader

Word count: 4,238

This is an explicit fic. 18+ only.

Warnings: Hydra wins au, 18+ smut (sex, male and female orgasms), mentions of violence during Hydra takeover (non-graphic descriptions).

a/n: Set in the universe where Hydra wins. Fic inspired by Monster by EXO and the emotions it gives me. Highly recommend listening to it while reading to feel the vibe. Thanks to @offcast-plus1 for teaching me that kitten in Russian is kotenok. 🥰

The day that Hydra won, everything changed.

It was a swift takeover, political sites all over the world taken ambush by the overpowered Hydra forces. The world seemed to freeze, teetering on the edge of panic.

However, everyone’s attention turned to the Avengers. Surely, they would stop the world from being taken over?

But as it turned out, they weren’t the world’s heroes that day. Hydra threatened the assassination of millions of political figures and innocents if the Avenger’s didn’t hand themselves in.

Instead, they vanished. No one knew where they went, but as the shots rang out in each parliament house, the world lost their faith in the fallen mantle that was the Avengers.

Keep reading

and he sings great balls of fire while me and my dad are dancing

i love rooster. you love rooster. i think we should get married it’s only right.

only if our first dance is to danger zone 💋💋

this is so cute <3

robby asking you on a date and being a nervous wreck

LOOK HOW CUTE THIS BITCH IS AHAAHAHAHHHHHH

he had been off all day. he seemed fine around everyone else but it’s almost as if he was avoiding you. you didn’t look too much into it, thinking that it was probably nothing. but then once you got to the dojo, even his karate was off. he was missing kicks and losing spars. something was definitely up with him. you waited until he was changed after class to approach him. he was knelt down, putting his gi into his duffel bag.

“hey robby, hows it going?”

“good, it’s good.” you noticed that he didn’t make eye contact with you when he answered. and he didn’t ask you back, something he would normally do.

“are you sure? because you’ve just seemed really off today and you know you can talk to me about anything right? did something happen? was it johnny? or your mom? or-“ he stood, finally looking at you but only for a second.

“no, it’s nothing like that.”

“oh. ok, so what up?” he took a deep breath before finally, finally looking at you.

“can i ask you something?”

“robby, i just told you that you can tell me anything. that extends to asking anything as well.” you smiled, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

“uhm, well, i was just wondering, would you, uh, any chance that you would want to, and you can say no, of course,”

“robby, just ask me.”

“would you want to go on a date with me?” you were silent for a moment, processing what he just said.

“that’s it?”

“uh, yes?” he wasn’t sure how to respond to your reaction.

“of course i’ll go on a date with you. i don’t know why you were so nervous. as if i’d say no,” you teased and he playfully rolled his eyes.

“how’s tomorrow? we can go eat?”

“well, i’m actually pretty hungry right now, if you don’t have any other plans.”

“hmm,” he looked down at his wrist as if he was checking a watch that he wasn’t wearing, “now works.” you smiled widely at him.

“well then, what are we waiting for?”

i am so in love with this series

LIBBY CHRIPS ARE SO CUTE (i love the one about quinn ripping jacks off 😭) i love that luke instigated that dog pile on her!!

a taste of the past | these michigan summers

series masterlist

a/n: euchre still stumps me, hence why i've elected to not go into detail about the game.

SUMMER '18

Euchre was, as Libby knew it, a way of bringing out the worst of people.

The first round wasn't too bad—she, Sam, and Dorothea were still teaching the rules to Jim and Ellen as a true rite of passage into Midwestern life. But once they'd got the hang of things, everything promptly went downhill.

Currently, Libby was teamed up with Jim while Sam was with Ellen; it only seemed fair not to lump the two knowledgeable players together, not that they would've chosen to play together anyway. Dorothea merely watched from the side with an amused smile on her red-painted lips. She knew better than to join a game of euchre with her husband and granddaughter.

"Go alone," Libby said, staring at her deck of cards. Jim set his hand down.

The round went on, and Libby couldn't hide her smirk at her grandfather's growing frustration.

Libby dealt her last card. "You just got euchred!"

Sam cursed as Libby and Jim eagerly high-fived each other. Nothing was more humbling than getting euchred. He sighed then, his hand outstretched. "Looks like the student has become the master."

Libby shook his hand with a grin.

"I still have no idea how this game works," Ellen admitted.

"Play it enough times, and it'll come to you," Dorothea replied, looking up from her knitting needles. Her blue eyes twinkled with mischief; it was always there, it seemed. "Just maybe don't play with those two."

Sam and Libby's heads whipped around to stare at Dorothea with disbelieving offense marring their faces. They'd never looked more related than they did at that moment, expressions and mannerisms identical.

"Did she win?" Jack skated toward the curb.

"Hell yeah, I did!" Libby cheered.

"Great, now join us."

Libby glanced at the adults occupying the front porch. It was tempting to put on some skates and join the boys on the street, but she didn't want to leave them alone either. She enjoyed playing cards with them, even if they got too competitive—something they should've expected, considering the number of former athletes seated around the wooden table.

"Go ahead," Ellen encouraged. "How else are you gonna break those skates in?"

A grin danced across Libby's face before she went to kiss her grandfather's forehead. She hurried into the garage in search of the rollerblades Jim and Ellen had gifted her for her birthday. She didn't bother changing into them yet, knowing her skating skills were still subpar at best compared to the boys, and she would rather minimize any chances of injuring herself without the help of others beside her.

Instead, she lugged them over her shoulder and brought herself to the curb. She'd barely slipped her feet into the skates when a shadow cloaked her figure.

Libby tilted her chin up, meeting the greens of Quinn's eyes.

He didn't say anything as he knelt in front of her, setting his hockey stick and gloves aside. He gently tugged one of her legs toward him by her calf, and Libby gulped at the searing feeling it left when his hand moved down to her skates. His nimble fingers worked deftly to tie the laces together.

"Is that okay?" Quinn asked quietly after looping the ends into a bow.

Libby nodded, and he went to tie the other skate. He was all too aware of the eyes watching them, but he was even more conscious of the pair of blue ones in front of him, how they left his heart thrashing against his ribs, how they made it that much harder to breathe.

"I can feel you staring," he said, lifting his gaze.

"Would you rather I didn't?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Quinn didn't say anything for a moment before quietly admitting, "No."

Libby smirked before extending her hands out. "Help me up?"

He wasted no time helping her to her feet while collecting his stick and gloves. Quinn watched her skate toward his brothers without much trouble, and that was enough to tell him she had been practicing over the years if that time he saw her first skating was anything to go by. He supposed living in Michigan made it that much easier for Jack, Luke, and Alex to pester her into joining them so they would have even numbers.

They would never know about the skates hanging in her closet in Mississippi, though.

Luke handed Libby a spare hockey stick and a set of gloves, and she grabbed them. Already, without anything being said, they knew they would team up. It wasn't a game of hockey if Libby and Luke weren't paired up together.

The moment the puck dropped, it was as though all caution was thrown to the wind. Jack had pulled Libby back by her shirt to keep her from reaching the puck; she retaliated by giving a gentle tap to where the sun didn't shine with the knob of her stick. Luke had checked Quinn, allowing Libby to score. And at some point, Libby started chirping at Quinn and Jack.

"Yeah, and y'all are supposed to be good?" when she scored, sticking her tongue out.

"That's fuckin' sexist!" when Jack scored.

"Coward!" when Quinn avoided bumping into her.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm older!" when either Jack or Quinn would chirp back.

"Oh, do better," when their shot was blocked by Luke.

"Couldn't get your one brain cell to work?" when Jack tripped over himself, despite tripping over herself on numerous occasions.

"Oh, bet you wish I still had my braces, don't you?" when she dangled Quinn.

There was only so much backtalk either Jack or Quinn could take before they dropped their gloves and sticks to tackle Libby to the ground (though they were still careful enough to make sure she didn't hit her head on the way down).

"Oh, my God!" Jim shot out of his seat, and Sam's guffaws ripped through the air.

"Keep the injuries to a minimum," Dorothea said, scanning the cards in her hand. "We've got enough medical bills to pay."

Libby pretended like the comment didn't have her shoulders stiffening as she slithered her hand out from under the pile of boys to give her grandmother a thumbs up.

"LiLi pile!" Luke flopped on top of his brothers, and Libby groaned at the added weight.

"Cat got your tongue now, Sissy?"

OH MY GOD LANEY 😦

i think this is the best thing i’ve ever read with my own two eyes 🤭

knock, knock: the future comes calling | these michigan summers

series masterlist

a/n: IM SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS BUT folks, the moment we've all been waiting for *drumroll*

cw: some making out that came out a little steamier than i expected? also brief mention of jacklibby *shudders*

FALL '18

Libby wasn't even in need of sleep when she found herself in Quinn's bed. The sun had set hours ago, replaced by the moonbeams pooling into his room like a gentle greeting, a soft lullaby foretelling a night of peaceful slumber.

She'd been stuck with the closing shift at the quaint boutique downtown, and when Quinn had caught wind of just how late she'd be there, he wouldn't hear her arguments that it was only a thirty-minute drive home. In no way was it an excuse to see her.

The movie playing on his laptop had long been forgotten, though, moved aside as they lay beside each other, lost in a conversation they barely remembered starting.

"Fuck, I don't know what I wanna do after college," Libby confessed with a sigh, stuffing her face against the soft fabric of his pillow like it would provide some security from Quinn's stare—intense yet not in the way that had her running for the hills or shriveling up until she was nothing but a speck of dust. “Maybe run away and join the military like everyone else who doesn’t know what they wanna do in life.”

"Hey, you still have time to figure it out," Quinn assured her, coasting his hand into hers. "We're barely into our second year."

Libby could feel the words at the tip of her tongue, clawing and desperate to be said, the ones that wanted to invalidate what he was telling her. Quinn knew what he was going to be doing in the future, in the next year. He practically had it all lined up since he was a little kid, and though she was incredibly proud of him, the suffocating feeling of being stuck had her comparing herself to him, to his life, in a way she knew was incomparable.

She wasn't an athlete, not anymore. She couldn't rely on the talent she'd been refining since she was a kid to support herself like he could. Not that she'd been that good of an athlete, to begin with. Sure, she was offered an athletic scholarship, but there was no guarantee she would've made it into the professional leagues, the way it was for Quinn.

God, Libby felt like she was falling behind, tripping over herself, running in circles, doing unnecessary U-turns. She was struggling to keep up, to have a career lined up, all planned out.

It didn't seem to matter that, as Quinn said, she was barely into her second year. When the people around her seemed to have everything figured out, time moved differently, faster, with every breath ticking one second closer to uncertainty.

But Libby stopped herself before the thoughts could come tumbling past her lips. That wasn't who she was. Her pride for Quinn's accomplishments and what lay ahead for him far surpassed the belittling jealousy that crawled through her mind like parasites.

"I know," she found herself saying, squeezing his hand.

A beat of silence lapped between them, hesitancy seeping into the air. Quinn's eyebrows pulled together like he was deep in thought. "Have you—" He paused.

"Have I what?"

"Have you ever thought about getting back into soccer?" he asked genuinely, turning onto his side to look at her better. "Or cheer? I remember watching you practice tumbling out on the lawn sometimes."

Libby smiled as the memories resurfaced, but a moment later, her lips thinned with acceptance. "No, those days are over," she said, a bittersweetness clinging to her words. She remembered complaining to her mother most days about the sore muscles and infuriating drills, and she would do anything to experience it for one more day.

"Because of your ACL? Thought it hadn't been bothering you for a while."

"Kinda. I just—I don't know how you're balancing school and hockey." Libby blew some air out in disbelief. "I'm barely making it through the day as a regular student. Can't imagine what it would be like to do soccer or cheer too."

"You're also working a job that I think you should quit because your boss sounds like a Grade-A asshole."

Libby laughed at the apparent annoyance on his face. "He has a family to feed and take care of, Squish."

"And he can do that without being a dick towards his employees."

"Would it make you feel better if I got a new job next semester?" she asked, mostly joking. She could endure the passive-aggressive comments thrown her way or the overbearing behavior of her boss for a bit longer; it was nothing she hadn't experienced growing up.

"Yeah, it would, actually," Quinn responded seriously. "It'd make me feel better if you got a new one as soon as possible."

Libby said nothing for a moment before a smile broke through her face.

"What?"

"You're cute when you're frustrated, you know that?" she asked, eyes milking the planes of his face and how his stern expression faltered once she uttered those words.

Quinn blinked before shaking himself out of his stupor. "Hey, you can't do that." He detached their hands only to stick his pinky out in the space between them. "Promise you'll find a job with a nicer boss?"

Libby looped their pinkies together. "Next semester."

"I'll hold you to that."

"I know you will." Libby let her gaze trace over his features one more time before sucking in a breath. "I probably don't have to ask what you want to do, huh?"

Quinn chuckled, soft and raspy with the luring calls of sleep he was swinging his sword at, desperate to stay up and talk to her for just a little longer. "No, probably not."

"You're gonna kill it out there," she told him, sliding her hand back into his to rub her thumb against his calloused skin as though she could sense the anxiousness festering within him, the fears he kept locked away out of habit, out of a responsibility to always stand firm for his brothers, for himself.

"I hope so."

"You will."

Quinn's gaze danced across her face, glowing under the dim lighting of his room. Sincerity was laced in the blues of her eyes like it was weaved into her genes by the finest seamstress the universe had to offer—a permanent gleam that outshone the stars. He gulped as her jaw clenched with certitude, sharp and mighty against those who may try to contradict her.

Even though his ambition had been a crackling, growing ember within him long before he knew her, the way she was looking at him, so assured and proud, despite how he hadn't even made it to the NHL yet, made it so much clearer that he'd be successful just for her, to prove her right, to see that look all over again.

And fuck, he was so far gone.

"I guess that's something I want to do," he said. "Do well in the NHL."

Libby rolled her eyes—affectionate. "Didn't you hear me, Squish? You will."

"And win the Stanley Cup."

"Which you will."

"And have you by my side through it all."

Libby tightened her hold on his hand. "Which you will. I'll always be there for you."

Quinn shook his head. She wasn't getting it. "I know, but winning the Cup won't be as fulfilling if I can't hold you on the ice and kiss you the way I've wanted to for years."

The world seemed to slow in Libby's head as his words replayed in her head repeatedly like a mantra, whispered all around her like the air had been begging her to understand what he'd said, what he'd wanted to say for so long.

Her heart should've sped up, should've run laps around her chest like it was the last run of her life, but the blood pumped slowly in her veins, beating softly like the wings of a butterfly. It wasn't suspense of fear she felt; rather, it was much like relief.

Relief that she hadn't been the only one teeming with thoughts and dreams of what it would be like to have each other as more.

Libby hadn't realized she'd stayed quiet until his fingers brushed the side of her face, gentle and hesitant in a way that showed he hadn't thought this through—like he had been holding onto that piece of information for so long, he just couldn't keep it in anymore, combusting with a need for her to hear what he’d been keeping hidden under the guise of a years-long friendship.

He just needed her to hear it.

"Say something, please," he whispered, voice trembling as he tucked her hair behind her ear. The way she was scanning his face, eyes unreadable like he'd never seen before, had his throat closing up. It terrified him to realize he had no idea what she was thinking when she'd always been so easy to read.

"You don't have to wait until we're on the ice." Libby pushed forward and captured his lips in hers.

Caught in a state of shock, Quinn took a moment to return the kiss, and their mouths clashed together in a greedy culmination of every moment together, every mishap, every miscommunicated gesture, every 'what if?'

Libby found herself being lowered onto her back, pressed further against the mattress as Quinn slotted himself in the space between her legs. Her fingers tangled with his hair, and a groan escaped him, muffled against the sweet press of her lips that tasted like the pomegranate chapstick she'd applied earlier. The sound was much breathier and deeper than she'd imagined.

Quinn cursed under his breath when she moaned, his hips involuntarily rolling into hers. His wild heart thrashed in his chest, heaving clumsily against hers, and though his lungs screamed for air, he was under her allure, unable to pull away like he’d been enchanted by her touch alone, unwilling to have any space between them.

His hand slid under the hem of her—his—sweater, warm skin against warm skin, electric and blazing all at once. The newfound closeness forced Libby to break the kiss, her bottom lip trapped between his teeth. A desperate whimper rippled from her vocal cords, high-pitched and whiny in a way that had Quinn imagining what other sounds she'd make.

He released her lip, watched it bounce back into place, and the arm that kept him propped up collapsed beneath him. He gulped as he caught his breath, leaning his forehead against her shoulder, eyes closed. "Fuck."

Libby ran her hand through Quinn's hair, gently coaxing him to look at her. Her eyes switched between his, the blown-out pupils against the darkened green that seemed just as enchanting, watched as they flickered down to her swollen lips.

Quinn kissed her again, short and sweet, unlike the previous. "Let me be yours," he mumbled, begged, trailing his lips across her jaw and down her neck, reveling in the moans he could feel vibrating through her throat as she tilted her head for him. "I've wanted to be yours for so long."

Libby's heart skipped a beat. "Only if I'm yours."

A smile stretched wide across Quinn's face as he pulled away from her neck, infectious enough to draw one from Libby. All he did was nod before his lips were on her cheek. Fuck, it was like he couldn't stop—he wanted to kiss every part of her tenderly, sweetly, until she was sick of it.

"Wait—years?" Libby pulled away from Quinn after her mind finally caught up, processed what he’d said with clarity. "What d'you mean you've been wanting to kiss me for years?"

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "Sunshine, I've had the biggest crush on you ever since you first knocked on our door."

"You have?"

"Yeah, baby," he said softly, watching her cheeks redden after the nickname slipped past his lips.

"Wait—but you dated—"

"I know." His calloused thumb swiped back and forth against her ribs. "Thought I talked myself out of that stupid little crush because, I mean, you were only there for the summers, but you still had my heart racing. Broke up with Ashley when I realized it wasn't fair to her, even if I thought you and Jack had something going on."

Libby's face twisted. "Don't remind me."

"Are you still mad at that?" Quinn asked, eyes heavy with guilt and shame.

"I was never mad at that," she said, gliding her hand onto his jaw, smiling when he leaned into her touch. "Appalled, maybe. A little hurt. Kinda upset—actually, very upset—"

Quinn frowned. "I'm sorry, Sunshine."

Libby shook her head. "Hey, we talked about this. It's okay. I forgive you. Forgave you ages ago."

He held her stare for a moment, searching for any sign of resentment, any flaw in her character that brought her one step closer to humanity and away from divinity. Instead, all he found were a gentle pair of eyes looking into his with nothing but candor. "I think you have the kindest heart this world will ever see."

A laugh rumbled through her chest. She ruffled her fingers through his hair, finding the slight crinkle of his nose far too endearing. "You're adorable."

"I mean it, Libby," Quinn said, finally letting his weight relax against her body. "And I don't wanna fuck up again, not when you're trusting me with your heart."

"Bless your heart, Quintin," she sighed, letting her thumb graze his browbone. "You really are adorable. And poetic."

He rolled his eyes at her cheeky smile.

"You wanna know what I think?" Libby asked.

"Always wanna know what you think."

"I think...I've always trusted you with my heart. And I don't think you realize just how kind yours is either—one of my favorite things about you."

Quinn's breath stuttered, his heart too. His eyes fluttered shut when her fingers traced the slope of his nose, then her thumb swept across his lips. And suddenly, the layers of clothes in between them seemed too overbearing. His hand caressed her skin under her sweater, gliding lower until he was nudging at the hem. "Can I? Just wanna feel you."

Libby swallowed the sudden lump in her throat as she let him remove the sweater, leaving her in just her sports bra. Her breath came out choppy when his eyes flicked across her body as though he'd never seen her in a bikini before; it was like he'd been ensorcelled, looking at her like she had been sculpted by Michelangelo himself.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured, feeling her skin heat up at his words.

Libby bit her lip, masking the size of her smile. She tugged at his shirt, and he slipped it off his torso, tossing it somewhere in his room. Her hands skated over the ridges of hardened muscles and warm skin that she'd only ever used to be able to appreciate visually when he'd been working out or swimming in the pool back in Canton.

"C'mere." She pulled him in for another kiss, savoring the way his hand slid up her calf, holding her knee against his hip.

"Think I could kiss you all the time," he mumbled against her lips. "Don't know how I've gone this long without it."

"Look who the talkative one is now," Libby teased. A squeal erupted from her throat when Quinn squeezed her side, her body squirming at the ticklish feeling, and his laughs echoed into balmy air.

He nestled his face into the hollow of her neck, a sharp gasp cutting through her giggles as he drew a line of kisses down her chest, nudging her necklace out of the way with his nose and skipping the tight material of her sports bra, and across her stomach. He bit back a smirk when her skin pebbled under his lips, the muscles in her belly tightening, forcing a moan out of her throat.

Libby watched with bated breath as his fingers hooked onto the waistband of her shorts. He looked up at her, eyes shiny with wonder, silently asking if he could take them off. With her lips parted and eyes searing the image of him staring up at her like she was some deity deserving of reverence in her brain, she nodded.

Quinn tugged her shorts down her legs, haphazardly tossing them aside. His lips found her thighs, then her hips, and a deep rumble sounded from his chest when her fingers tangled into his hair, tugging at his scalp. He sucked on the supple skin of her hips, tongue lapping over the bruises and teeth marks hidden from everyone but them—a vestige of the night.

His name came out of Libby’s mouth as nothing but a breathy moan, a desperate cry for more. Quinn glanced up, letting his thumb soothe over her hip bone, and he felt the air in his chest get knocked out: Her hair was fanned out against his pillow like a halo, skin glowing like liquid gold, shimmery with desire, and Quinn swore she looked nothing short of perfection—an angel walking amongst mere mortals.

Libby pulled him back for another kiss, crushing and frantic, as she reached for his shorts. He was quick to kick them off, yet when she went for his boxers, his hand latched onto her wrist.

"Not tonight," he murmured before she could ask if he was okay, if she’d overstepped a boundary. Her touch was gentle against his face, contrasting the feverish grabbing along his body from a moment ago that had him burning all over, permanently scorched by her. "Tonight, I just wanna kiss my girl."

A dazed smile danced across Libby’s face as she sighed in pleasure, her eyes closing like she’d taken a hit of some drug. She felt his mouth, wet and slow, across her jawline, neck, chest, and shoulders—no part untouched.

"Just wanna appreciate you," Quinn mumbled against her skin.

Libby melted when his lips found hers again—felt like she could sink into the mattress. She hiked one leg around his waist, ready to push him onto his back, yet he didn't budge, fought every valiant attempt of hers. She broke their kiss, brushing her thumb over his pink and swollen lips. "Gonna let me appreciate you, too, big guy?"

"Tonight’s all about you, baby."

She pouted. "You're paintin' me out to be a selfish lover, Quintin."

He ran his broad hand up and down her thigh, groping at the skin. "You? Selfish?" He laughed, shoulders shaking and mouth smiling wide, teeth and all. "Could never be selfish."

Libby rolled her eyes, and Quinn shook his head lightheartedly. His body relaxed against hers like a weighted blanket, and with a final kiss on her lips, they understood that there was no need to go any further. All Quinn wanted was to lay in her arms, wrapped up in the actualization that he was hers, and she was his.

One of Libby’s hands rubbed his bare back, his muscles rippling under her touch, while the other twirled the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. She pressed soft kisses over his forehead and temple and wherever she could reach, and she couldn't help but chuckle when a hum vibrated through his body as he hugged her waist like she would disappear.

Gradually, Quinn's breaths slowed, and soft snores reverberated against the quietude of the room.

Libby didn't fight against the fond tug of her mouth as she glanced down at his sleeping figure. She may not have known what she wanted to do after college, but she knew she wanted Quinn, and for now, that was enough.

————

A knock ricocheted into the room, breaking the calming stillness that was lulling Libby to sleep. Her voice was soft, heavy with exhaustion as she told the person to enter the room.

The door opened, and Josh stuck his head through the space. His eyebrows shot up when he took note of the pair on the bed—the positioning, the unrestrained affection, and the few pieces of clothing strewn across the floor. "Well, that's new."

Libby suddenly grew bashful under his mischievous eyes, the same ones that would glance at her whenever she and Quinn did anything because he'd been privy to her feelings, pieced it together over the summer when he'd visited Canton to hang out with them. At the sight of her nervous smile, Josh's jaw dropped.

"Oh, my God," he mumbled. "You guys finally fucked."

A choked sound lodged itself in Libby's throat at his statement, and she tried not to cough, tried to keep her movements to a minimum to not wake up Quinn. "What—no!"

"You guys finally admitted you liked each other?" Josh guessed with a tilt of his head, clearly entertained by how flustered she was.

Libby stuttered over a response, trying to come up with the right words to say, but it was like her brain had short-circuited, and any ability to speak the English language had been thrown out the window. Damn, maybe Tyler was right: she did get shy when talking about her feelings.

"You totally did!" Josh pumped his fist before leaning back into the corridor. "You all owe me money!"

Libby's eyes widened at his words, and panic broiled in her chest when Quinn stirred in her arms, a sigh fanning against the bare skin of her collarbone.

"What's going on?" he asked, lifting his head ever so slightly, eyes bleary as he tried to blink away his sleepiness.

"Nothing," she blurted, screaming with her eyes at Josh to cut it out when he quietly celebrated by the doorway. "Go back to sleep, Squish."

"Okay." He kissed her, briefly yet slowly all at once, before snuggling back against her neck, lips grazing the skin there one final time before he went back to sleep.

Josh wriggled his eyebrows, about to slip away when Libby spoke. "Wait, why'd you come knockin'?"

"Was gonna ask him something, but it looks like he has something more important to be doing." Josh winked suggestively.

"Oh, God." Libby scoffed.

"I don't think God wants to see what goes on between you."

Her nose scrunched. "You're disgusting."

Josh laughed.

"Before you leave, can you do me a favor?"

"Depends on the favor."

"Turn the lamp off for me?" Libby smiled sheepishly.

"Are you decent?" he asked.

"Jesus Christ," she cursed. "Yes, I'm decent."

Josh then hummed, slipping into the room. "Just making sure. And I'm only doing this because I'm about to be a few hundred dollars richer."

Her face was marred with disbelief, eyes following him as he drew nearer. "You know, it's awfully rude to bet on your friends."

"I'll split with you."

"Deal."

Josh switched off the lamp, shrouding the room in darkness. He walked toward the door, tripping over Quinn's shirt that was tossed aside earlier, and his body crashed into the wardrobe by the door with a heavy thud. He told Libby to shut up when she snickered. The moment he closed the door behind him, Libby heard the dreaded nursery rhyme reverberating against the walls of the house.

"Libby and Quinn, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."

She sighed when Josh's voice finally faded down the corridor: They were in for a ride tomorrow morning.

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