nerdygirlramblings

[nerdygirlramblings]

hi so i jus read thru all the ren fics (amazing btw i cant wait for whats next) and noticed u had a taglist! is it possible to get put on that for all your fics? thanks love 💕

Thank you! So delighted you like Ren's story 🫶🏻

I'm happy to put you on the taglist for 'Fierce Wars' and 'Off to See the Wizard' (my other series). I don't have a general fic taglist, but I will try to remember to tag you when I post 🤞🏻

[nerdygirlramblings]

smutty little drabble

cw: oral (f! receiving), m/m, cockwarming

The only benefits to being stuck this close to the Arctic circle were the sauna attached to the safe house and you, the cute little soldier Laswell added to their unit for this op.

It had started small: Gaz and Soap teasing you with little touches, glances, words. You blushed so pretty they couldn't help it. It was supposed to be a game.

Sitting side by side across from you in the sauna, man spreading just a little bit more and a little bit more and a little bit more until you had a clear view of everything the towel was supposed to hide. What neither man expected was your reaction. Gone was the blushing soldier they've been expecting. Instead, Soap was on his knees, tongue pushed into your cunt, nose flush against your clit as your fingers gripped his Mohawk and held him there. You weren't sure how he was breathing, but he hadn't passed out yet, so he must have been getting air somehow. Your other hand was wrapped tight around the back of Gaz's neck, holding his face against yours as you sucked his tongue into your mouth while he was buried balls-deep into Soap's ass. Your grip didn't give him much leverage to move so he sat there, Soap cockwarming him, as you took what you wanted from both of them.

Three orgasms later, you release Kyle enough that all it takes is two thrusts before he's pouring himself into Soap, who'd already come against the floor.

Finding the three of you dehydrated and loopy from the sauna and the sex, Price institutes an immediate one soldier per session rule. You can't help but grin when you ask if the rule is about the sauna or you.

[nerdygirlramblings]

Will the next part about Rem come out soon?

Oh, nony, I wish I had an answer for you. The next part is at the gala with Spinner, and I cannot get them to play in the same space as him. I have parts started (see below the cut for a sneak peak), but every time I try to put Ren in the room with Spinner, the others hijack my train of thought.

When you walked out in your dress and collar, makeup done and hair natural, Ghost's purr rumbled again. He let it go for only a moment before nodding at you in satisfaction. You could have drowned in the blue of Soap's eyes when he saw you. "Ye look lovely, Ren," he'd said softly, seriously. He'd glared at Gaz then. "Dinnae let this go tae yer head, Garrick. She's gunna be ours, nae jus' yers, so ye keep it professional, yeah?" Before Gaz could retort, Ghost had smacked the back of Soap's head, scolding, "An' don' YOU ferget Ren ain't a thing ta be owned, yeah? We wan' this, we got ta earn it." He'd nodded at you after as if to ensure you saw his defense. In truth, both of their reactions made an impression on your omega. She delighted to see Soap's possessiveness and Ghost's reassurance, but it was Price whose reaction was most satisfying. He'd come over, taken both your hands in his, and looked you in the eye, his alpha to your omega. "The getup is lovely, but it's because the foundation is stunning already. Yer a beautiful soul, an' after tonight, after this, we're gunna make sure ta take you somewhere nice, lookin' like ya do right now, so we can show the world how lucky we are yer wi' us."

[nerdygirlramblings]

Me to any of your writing:

I'm going to take this as a happy kitty wanting more and not horking up a hairball 😂

In which case, yay. I'm so glad you find joy on my page. 🫶🏻

[nerdygirlramblings]

I’ve read your ancient gods au more times that I care to count, so tell me why this sentence, “She is the reason we are still here, and so we worship her as the queen of the gods, the heart that saved us all.”, had me bawling at 0604 in the morning…???

Gaaaahh.

I swear. You’re a magician with words. Every time I read something, it’s usually one I needed to read to get out of my head and/or an affirmation of sorts.

Nope. I know what you are.

An Enchantress.

A Literary Enchantress.

Yup.

I love you and your brain so much.

I hope your pillows are always cool.

Your long sleeves stay up while washing your hands.

And gnats (bugs) never bother you.

💙💙💙

I've been hoarding this in my inbox because it makes me feel so happy. This is such an amazing compliment. Thank you for loving those ancient gods as much as I do.

[nerdygirlramblings]

I just wanted you to know that i love your Ren series, and i get so excited when i see that there is a new part posted!

Thank you!! I love Ren and her men. Been feeling stuck with her story lately, though, so it may be a little bit before the next scene posts.

[nerdygirlramblings]

just found your blog and lemonade made me cry! safe to say youre a phenomenal writer 💕

I'd apologize for making you cry, but I was in an angsty place with that one and needed to do some real-world venting. Thank you for the glowing compliment!

[nerdygirlramblings]

oh my god! I just read your poly 141 abo fic and I am in love!! your writing is just fucking AMAZING and I'm hanging ok my seat for every single word! thank you so much for writing and I can't wait to read more!! 💙💙💙

🫶🏻

Ren has such a special place in my heart, and I love imagining these men as both desperate for her and her biggest champions.

[nerdygirlramblings]

bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

[nerdygirlramblings]

I may have joined this strange landscape late, but there's no getting rid of me now I know this hive of strange exists so perfectly. (Though I can't promise not to sometimes fall off a cliff of nothingness when life gets busy or the hyperfixation changes)

I got so terrified seeing this in the wild 😭

I had to physically look up your name just to check in a panic

I feel like I should apologize but only because I'm ancient and, other than the one sn being similar to mine, I have no idea what I'm looking at.

[nerdygirlramblings]

And while we're sharing which authors are a must-read, I have to recommend @beloveds-embrace as noona has a magic touch, especially with historical/ fantasy au, and @peachesofteal is top tier.

Who do you look forward to reading? I'm looking for more writers to follow

Check my faves link for my tried and true fics I read when I need a comfort read. Other than that tho I go feral for like anybody writing!

@lostintransist is my angst dealer. They are so good at what they do, I can only hope to be as good.

@gazsluckyhat is another good author check out Sarah's House. Because ngl that one made me go "bitch!" Multiple times

@umber-cinders check out her Winter Moon story that's fire and it has Daddy M'Baku and honestly it's a good read I follow her on Ao3 and I low key stalk her stuff.

@lay-z she can write like a mutha fucka. Great ideas and good reads there too.

@ilostthewar baby moth! My oh my! I adore their posts and ideas and everything they write too!

@uraeus56 has a good story that follows siblings that are adopted by 141 and without giving away spoilers I'm always holding my breathe with the suspense.

@superhoeva , they have a good brain between their ears because whenever I read their stuff I'm like "hoe were you intending for me to be obsessed?"

@abusivegymrat writes very well too! I'm a Gaz girl and I adore Tears dry on their own.

This list is not exhaustive and i may be biased but uhm I really think everyone here writes really well and they all have cultivated or is in the process of cultivating such a unique style with their writings. Low key I like to read their older stuff and then read their more recent things to see the progress and everyone just does such a good job.

Check out my #muva has fed me tag for my of the things I read or my #fic rec tag or #my faves.

[nerdygirlramblings]

🩵🩵🩵 Fanfic Writer Appreciation 🩵🩵🩵

If you're receiving this, it means I enjoy your writing and appreciate you sharing it with us! To celebrate, use this as an opportunity to talk about your favorite fic(s) that you have written. Uplift yourself, and then pass this along to your favorite fic writers to uplift them!

🩵🩵🩵 -- @/lostintransist

🫶🏻🫶🏻 @lostintransist

[nerdygirlramblings]

I got so terrified seeing this in the wild 😭

I had to physically look up your name just to check in a panic

I feel like I should apologize but only because I'm ancient and, other than the one sn being similar to mine, I have no idea what I'm looking at.

[nerdygirlramblings]

(this was inspired by the amazing @rawme-price ‘s royal!141 x war prize!reader!! Give him lots of love his works are absolutely incredible and so good 😩😩)

You were a prize of war, draped not in glory but in silence.

The day you were taken, the sun bore down mercilessly over your city’s broken gates, golden rays glinting off the broken helms and blood-slicked stone. The standards of your house- a serpent coiled around a silver chalice- burned upon every rampart. They’d taken everything: your home, your siblings, your legacy. All that remained of your royal lineage was a fine silk collar looped around your throat, a mark of your new station: property.

Not quite a prisoner, and not quite a guest.

They had taken you not for vengeance, though, but for ornamentation:

You were not dragged before the court in chains, nor paraded through the capital square as spoils. No. You were wrapped in silks and shadow, ferried through the marbled halls of the foreign palace like a prized sculpture- set atop a pedestal to be admired, pitied, perhaps touched, but never truly regarded. A concubine, they called you. A gift for the conquering King, a diplomatic token meant to warm his sheets and soothe his ego. But you were not soft like a prize. You were steel beneath velvet, and no man- especially not him- had thought to test your edge.

When you arrived at the palace gates, escorted by a pair of silver-clad guards, you expected confinement. Chains and surveillance. You expected to be summoned and summoned again, demanded of until you broke. But instead… they left you mostly alone.

There were rooms prepared for you- lavish chambers perfumed with foreign incense, mirrors taller than doors, baths warm with honeyed water- but no one came. No handmaidens lingered long. No courtiers whispered seductions or threats. You were given a name in the servants’ registry and little else.

Perhaps it was arrogance. That you, a silken shadow of a fallen house, posed no real threat. Or perhaps it was that none of them could see you clearly- not through the cloud of war, not through their own entanglements.

You were not their type, you quickly realized. Too quiet to entertain, and too proud to beg. And far too observant for the comfort of men who ruled through secrets and shadows.

Your presence made them uneasy, but not enough to stop them.

So they left you in peace, and like ivy in a forgotten garden wall, you grew wherever the stone gave way.

They were always busy with one another anyway.

King Price was a broad-shouldered monarch with a voice like flint striking steel, a man of battlefield charisma, not courtly grace. He ruled from a sun-drenched throne room hung with deep maroon banners and a mosaic floor of golden lions and azure wolves. On either side of him were his closest men- men you quickly learned were far more than advisors, more than knights, more than lovers of the realm.

They were each other’s.

Ghost, because you weren’t given any other name to call him by, was a thing carved from smoke and steel. He haunted the corridors in silver-threaded armor and scary bone-pale cloaks, his face masked and unreadable, his eyes like bottomless ink. He spoke rarely and only when necessary, deep and deliberate, every word a spear. You often saw him standing unmoving beneath the porticoes or looming behind the King like a silent omen. He noticed everything. You learned quickly to avoid meeting his eyes unless you wished to be studied like prey.

Soap, in contrast, was fire given form. He laughed like thunder over water, all teeth and mirth, his kilted form easy in every room. He danced through politics like he did through swordplay: reckless, sharp, and victorious. The nobles loved him, the servants adored him, and yet even his joy was a blade. You watched him, this flame-tongued warrior, wield charm and chaos as weapons. He made you uneasy, but not for the reasons one would expect. It was his brilliance you feared, not his touch.

Gaz was quieter than both, but you knew never less dangerous. His gaze flicked too quickly to be read, his thoughts fast-moving beneath the surface. He communicated in nods, in looks, in the press of his mouth and the sharpness of his shoulders. You caught him watching sometimes, not in lust but in curiosity- as though trying to read a passage he hadn’t expected in the book of war. He often lingered in the libraries. Sometimes, you found his annotations beside your own. The unspoken dialogue began there, but you didn’t dare consider yourselves allies, much less friends.

They were rulers in all but name, lovers in all but confession, bound to each other in something deeper than oaths. You were irrelevant to them then. But time- time would change that as patiently as water eroded the cliffs.

They moved around each other with the familiarity of shared campaigns, shared wounds, shared beds. It was no secret. Not even whispered. The palace knew. The court knew. You knew, from the very first night you arrived and wandered too far in silk slippers, only to hear the unmistakable sounds of pleasure echoing behind a half-opened door. It certainly wasn’t your name they moaned, and it wasn’t your skin they touched.

You were a relic, a prize kept on a shelf, unbothered, unwanted.

Which suited you just fine, because they let you roam- perhaps assuming your silence meant submission.

You slipped through their world like a ghost, always in the background, always silent. You learned the layout of the palace quickly, and found the best corridors for avoiding the guards, the quietest corners of the library, the sunniest courtyard to sit in when the day was soft and the wind carried the perfume of the citrus groves.

But silence, in truth, is the perfect vantage for listening.

And listen you did.

You sat in on council meetings when no one noticed your presence, tucked behind pillars and veiled behind sheer drapes. You learned of failing grain routes, corrupted tax collectors, nobles whose coffers jingled with coin minted in enemy nations. You listened to a young Lord boast of “diversifying” with investments in your fallen house’s overseas mines. You heard a noble Lady laugh about how many of her letters made it past the border through “trusted hawks.” Trusted hawks who worked for other kingdoms. Corruption ran smoother than the wine they indulged in.

And King Price… didn’t know.

The thought struck you odd and cold: he fought wars to protect this realm and yet knew nothing of the rot within it. A man can’t guard against betrayal if he doesn’t even know it’s in the room.

You said nothing until you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

One night, you stepped into his war chamber, where torchlight spilled across parchment seas and carved lions guarded the windows. He stood at the map table, sleeves rolled to elbows, neck glistening with sweat. His crown was absent, but the weight of it was still there in his posture.

“Your Majesty.” You said, and your voice was a clean knife through the stillness.

He looked up sharply, surprised not by your presence but by your tone.

You stepped forward, and for the first time since your capture, you let your tongue free and told him everything, the long accumulation of knowledge and fury curling like embers in your gut, too dangerous to burn, too volatile to ignore. Until at last the words clawed their way from you like smoke from a smothered fire.

And you told him. Every name; every treason. You recited them with the cold precision of an executioner: the barons laundering coin through offshore holdings once controlled by your House; the grain merchants funneling stock to rival kingdoms; the bastard son of a northern lord who posed as a loyal knight while his letters begged asylum across the border.

You spoke of ciphered routes your mother had crafted, letters tucked into false bookbindings, the bribery systems perfected over decades. You told him things he did not know- not because he was ignorant, but because his court had made him blind.

He said nothing. But the others began to arrive.

Ghost materialized from the shadowed alcove like a summoned revenant. He did not speak, only watched, his body tense with awareness, and Soap strode in halfway through, still armed, a cloak flung carelessly behind him. He leaned against the stone hearth but didn’t interrupt. Gaz entered last, quietly standing neside Ghost, hands behind his back, listening intently.

You stood before the four pillars of the kingdom- untouched, unclaimed, and now undeniably seen. You poured poison like wine, and they drank every drop.

By the end, Price’s knuckles were white on the edge of the map and his voice was more gravel than human:

“Why tell me this now?”

You looked at him, all the tired regality of your bloodline pressed into your spine. “Because my family is dead. And they don’t deserve their secrets kept.”

From that night forward, you were no longer just a prize.

You became something else: not a concubine, not a captive, but a whisper in the King’s ear; a blade turned inward; the rot-teller; the court’s living reminder that shadows bloom even in marble gardens. A walking threat to anyone in the court who thought their sins were buried too deep to be dug out.

They didn’t name you as such, of course. They couldn’t- not in court, not in record. But your presence at meetings became expected. When the King entered the council chamber, you followed. When reports arrived from the border, he read them aloud for your eyes. When suspects were named, your opinion was the blade that tipped justice’s hand.

And suddenly, the court began to fear you.

They whispered that you were a sorceress whom had enchanted their King. That the bloodline of your House had carried poisons in its tongue. That you bewitched the lions of the realm. That perhaps, perhaps, the fall of your kingdom was not the end of your reign- but only its metamorphosis.

Your new home stood higher than the falconers’ roosts, wreathed in mist and paper flowers (bougainvillea). Its terrace overlooked the rose gardens, where nobles strolled with masks of silk and secrets, and the sparring fields where sweat and metal still ruled over perfume and lies. You were given robes of maroon and pearl, the kingdom’s colors, though no sigil adorned your breast. You bore no crest. You were still, technically, a concubine. But no one dared call you so now.

The collar was gone, too.

And thus, they… began to look:

John’s eyes lingered, not in lust, but in something slower, a tension made of weight and wonder and want. Simon began appearing more often in your path, his silences thicker but more comfortable, his proximity intentional. Johnny’s flirtations sharpened, no longer jokes but invitations- his fingers brushing yours beneath council tables, his laugh darker, hungrier. Kyle spoke to you so often in the garden, bringing citrus fruits, asking about old customs, foreign songs, little things- anything to draw more of you into the light, into his lap and arms.

They looked at you like men who had conquered nations and found, at last, something unconquered; something they no longer wished to ignore. They watched you the way lions watch a lamb- strange, sharp, other, but so greedy to sink their maw into.

And slowly, the dynamic shifted.

Their devotion to one another remained- unyielding, unspoken, forged in blood and loyalty. But you had become something they could not and did not want to ignore. Your insight was a blade none of them had ever wielded, your presence a quiet gravity that drew their eyes before their thoughts could catch up. You were intelligence made tangible, sharp where others dulled, and though they had not touched you, they had long since ceased to overlook you.

So the harem grew, though it remained unspoken of. You were not meant to be their equal, and yet you still became it not through seduction, but through strategy and dominion.

And when at last one of them reached for you with quiet, reverent hands, it was not out of pity. it was worship. Lust so hot it bordered on sinfulness, for you were not their first love but you became their favorite sin.

In the court of lions, you had been a lamb.

But lambs, too, can learn to bare their teeth. That is what you think as you feel hot, heady kisses pressed against your nape, your naval, the small of your back and between your thighs, a crown tilting dangerously on your head until hands fix it back in place.

[nerdygirlramblings]

it’s lowkey my bday today and nobody ever really remembers it so I was wondering if it’s not too much trouble to ask for even a sliver of a crumb of poly141 x reader and it being her bday?

@starlightmoon2020 First, Happy Birthday! 🎉🎂 I hope this reaches you while it's still your birthday. It's a real rough piece as it came to me quickly and I wanted to get it to you ASAP. Enjoy!

As a child, birthdays were magical: candy and laughter, crackers and cake, friends and too many presents to count. Once you finished school, though, birthdays became just another day. No one in your office celebrated birthdays. There was no Mom making your favorite supper since you'd moved away. You received a few birthday texts from friends, and your parents sent a card, but adult birthdays lost their shine. Add to that your men all being on missions, and this birthday was looking bleak.

The spray of green peeking over the top of your cube was a surprise. Delicate fronds danced under the climate control vents. The braided trunk of the plant drew your eye to the silver ribbon tied around one of the limbs, a card dangling from it. Fingers nimbly untied the bow, the card quietly dropping onto your desk. Excitement kept your breath held tight as you flipped the card to read Happy birthday, love. - boo. Either Simon had found a way to order this while away or, more likely but also more amazingly, he set this up before he left two weeks ago.

Maybe this birthday wouldn't be so bad after all.

The workday progressed as it usually did. You were good at your job, and as far as jobs go, you enjoyed what you did, so the morning moved quickly between meetings and your tasks. When lunch rolled around, you pulled out the take away leftovers you'd brought. Normally you ate alone, so when Cheryl from finance sat next to you, it was a bit of a surprise. The food she put down looked amazing: naan and butter chicken from your favorite Indian. It wasn’t until she pushed it in front of you that you looked over at her.

"Front desk said this got delivered for you.” She must have recognized the skepticism that flashed across your face as you glanced at the food in front of you. Why would you order more take away when you had some. “Instructions said to wish you a happy birthday and tell you the price is right.” Her voice pitched up on the last bit, more question than statement, like she wasn’t sure if she was conveying the message correctly. You appreciated how John let you know the food was from him without giving anything away. John knew you kept your private life private at work. You’d told them more than once how most people, especially those who didn’t know them as a unit, would struggle with the idea of multiple partners, so while your coworkers knew you had a special someone, you never shared any details about them at all. Nodding blankly at Cheryl, you thanked her for passing along the message and bringing your food. Before she left, she eyed you critically. “Don’t seem too happy about it being your birthday,” she said. You shrugged and mentioned how, as an adult, birthdays felt like just another day. She hummed a response and left before you could think too much more about it.

Mid-afternoon, Cheryl stopped by your desk, small white bakery box in hand. “Another delivery?” you joke and are taken aback when she shakes her head.

“No. Just thought about what you said earlier,” she replied. “Every birthday should be magical, especially when you’re all grown up.” She gave you a small smile. “It isn’t much, but you can’t celebrate your birthday without a cake.” She put the box in front of you, and you flipped back the lid to find a single jumbo cupcake, chocolate frosting and sprinkles and a tiny candle on top. “Fire code says we can’t light the candle, but it wouldn’t be a birthday cake without one.” You barely sputtered out a heartfelt thank you before she was walking away.

The day was going much better than you thought it would when you woke up.

Watching the rain pelt the windows as you left the office, you curse the weather gods for not being kind to your afternoon commute. Wishing you’d been more prepared for rain, you left your building to find an elegantly dressed young woman holding an umbrella and a sign with your name standing in front of a black town car. You walked over and pointed to her sign. “That’s me, but I didn’t order a car. And, no offense, I wouldn’t get myself something so nice just to get home.” The woman smiled and told you that Kyle had arranged for transport to and from a birthday dinner. His was the mission you were most disappointed in as he should have returned three days ago. You realized he must have set this up for you before he’d gotten held over. It was a sweet gesture, a nice dinner for you both, but having dinner alone on your birthday was a step more depressing than you were willing to go. “That’s very kind but I can’t,” you tell her, starting for the station. She insisted it was already paid for and her company couldn’t issue refunds. You reluctantly climbed in, hoping Kyle selected someplace you could get take away from. When the car pulled in front of a nice steak restaurant, your heart dropped. The driver said she would return in two hours and left with a cheery “Enjoy!”

You trugged into the restaurant and gave Kyle's name. The host smiled brightly and ushered you to a table in the back. Your men preferred sitting in the back with a view of the door. It meant, especially on your own, you constantly looked up when the door rang. Ten minutes of people watching, becoming more and more saddened about being alone, you finally focused on the menu, and when someone approached the table you started rattling off your order.

"That sounds lovely. Ah'll have the same."

Your head snapped up at the sound of Johnny's voice. "Wha-? How? You're not supposed to be back for another week!"

His grin stretched wide as he dropped into the seat next to you. "Ah couldnae miss yer birthday."

For the first time all day, you smiled so hard it hurt. All of your men had found a way to make your day special, even though they weren't all here with you. Their actions somehow spurred Cheryl to celebrate with you. Your birthday felt magical again. All because your men loved you enough to make it so.

main masterlist

[nerdygirlramblings]

cw: smut

an: everything but the ending came quickly, so it's abrupt 🤷🏻‍♀️

You who, in your spare time, reads romance novels. Not just any romance novels, but extra spicy reverse harem why choose romance novels: omegaverse, fated mates, mafia, enemies to lovers, hockey, dark, shifter. You read it all. They know you're a voracious reader but have never looked too closely at the covers of your books.

You don't talk about what you read, and they don't ask. It never occurred to you to hide them. One day you leave a spicy dragon shifter open on the table when you step out of the room for a few minutes.

Johnny wanders into the kitchen for a snack and sees your book. He doesn't think anything of it; you always have a book around. But this one is open, and as he snags it to close it, he happens to glance down and sees " "Breed this sweet pussy," he rasped." Johnny pulls up short, sure he misread it.

He looks over the whole page and sees more than he bargained for:

"What do you plan to do about it?" I asked teasingly. He hadn't shifted back, and his golden form towered over me.

"Breed this sweet pussy," he rasped. He stalked forward while Kha's shadow enveloped me.

"Whatever you plan to do," Kha said, addressing Xio, "do it before the others return."

I stood my ground, even as it shook with the force of Xio's steps. "You're ours, and I intend to remind you of that," he said. He raised a single claw and sliced down. Though I knew he wouldn't hurt me, my mind scrambled momentarily, waiting for the bloom of pain. Instead of a streak of red across my dress, I looked down and saw how it hung in two pieces off my shoulders. A quick shrug and the ruined fabric pooled at my feet. Another targeted swipe turned my panties to ribbon and left me bare before my mates.

Kha's amethyst wings caught the light as they snapped open over me. "No one else in the horde is allowed to see you like this, my treasure," he rumbled.

I was caught between them but didn't fear it. In fact, being naked with them still dragons was exciting. The thought of Xio using both his cocks on me at once had heat pooling between my thighs.

Johnny practically races from the room to find the others, taking your book with him. You glance at the empty table when you return, confusion niggling at the back of your mind. Something is off, but you can't put your finger on what.

A few days go by, but the incident slips your mind, likely because the book had been facedown on the tea table later. You continued reading about Faith and her dragon shifter lovers, finishing The Horde's Greatest Treasure and moving on to Guarding the Don's Daughter.

Kyle has been waiting for you to leave your book unattended. He believed Johnny about what you were reading. He has sisters and knows it's more than likely true. But there is that bit of doubt. You're so sweet with them. The idea of you reading what Johnny shared...a shiver trails down his spine as sweat beads along his neck. He isn't sure if he's turned on or turned off by the idea of what's in those pages.

Fortune favors him two hours after you get home. You're reading in the large leather recliner when John shouts, the smoke alarm wailing like a banshee. Startled from your book-induced revery, the book falls to the floor with a whump as you scamper into the kitchen to check on John. Keeping an eye on the entryway, Kyle snatches the book from the floor and randomly flips to a page in the middle.

Rex's eyes stare, watching the black lace hem of my nightgown as I slide it up and over my head. His jaw is clenched so hard I'm surprised I don't hear the molars from here.

"What are you doing, Princess?" he bites out.

I smile coyly, dropping my gaze to the bed. "Getting myself ready," I reply, laying back on the soft down. I lazily stroke a hand from the waistband of my skimpy underwear through the valley between my breasts to my neck and back. The heat in Rex's eyes sets me aflame, and on my next pass, I whisper his name and slide my hand beneath the lace panties. They leave nothing to the imagination, and I know he can see when I slip two fingers into my pussy.

"My job is to protect you," Rex growls.

"If you're in bed with me, it's easy to 'cover me' in case of danger," I tease.

Kyle tosses the book onto the chair you were in as if burned. You really do read that. How can you like that? Are you secretly hoping for it?

He won't be able to answer the questions swirling through his head unless he talks to you, but that seems like too much to ask today. He's trying to reconcile what's on the page with who he knows you are when you come back in and say, "Kitchen's fine, but John's roast isn't, so it looks like take away for dinner. That okay?"

All Kyle can do is nod numbly.

Several more days pass, and you know something is wrong, but you have no idea what. Earlier you'd leaned over the back of the sofa, wrapping your arms around Johnny as watched the telly, and he jumped a mile high. Two days ago, you asked Kyle his opinion on your dress and instead of the suave answer you were used to, he blankly stared at you.

Over dinner, John and Simon make stilted small talk about their day while Kyle stares at you and Johnny looks anywhere but you. "Okay, that's enough," you gripe. "What in the world is going on with you lot?"

Simon grunts, "Readin' anythin' good?"

Surprise flits across your features. Though books are your ever present accessory, they've never asked about them before. "Um, yeah, actually."

You would laugh at Simon's face if the sharp intake from Johnny and Kyle make you think there is something wrong with your answer. John's voice cuts across your confusion. "What are you readin', dove?" It's a question, but his tone conveys an order instead.

"Well, it's about a woman who falls in love with three different guys on the same hockey team. They all met her in different ways, so she had no idea they knew each other, but once they found out they were all dating the same person, they had a massive fight about it. She told them she wasn't anyone's possession and stormed off. That's where I am."

"And that's all? Just a few mates sharin' a girl?" Johnny snipes.

You level him with a glare. "No, they all caught feelings. Sounds familiar, yeah?"

Your terse response only eggs him on. Johnny snaps back at you with, "An' I'm damn sure they're all having sex wi' her."

"Well of course they are!" you reply hotly. And Johnny crumples, shoulders hunching and deep sadness replacing the previous anger.

"Is...is tha' it?" Johnny asks, subdued. "You'd rather read about man-dragon things-"

"Or mafia bodyguards," Kyle put in, to which Simon quietly added, "or alphas and omegas."

The devastation in Simon's voice, the heartbreak in Kyle's, shows you how serious this is for them. "What?! No, my books are just that, a little escape." You lock eyes with each of your lovers. "There is no ulterior motive, no hidden kink, no unfulfilled longing. They're just quick stories with a guaranteed happily ever after. And sometimes really raunchy sex."

"Are ya sure," Johnny asks, some of his usual playfulness coming through, "'cause tha' dragon one had some interesting options for dealin' wi' multiple cocks."

"And I wouldn't say no to some of what Princess and her bodyguard got up to," Kyle adds.

You scoff and roll your eyes. "They aren't meant to be a playbook," you say. Then you look around at your men once more, these men you love with all your heart who would do anything to make you happy, and say, "But if you happen to have found a new kink to try, I guess I could get behind some experimentation."

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[nerdygirlramblings]

draft 1: written in a fugue state draft 2: i do not know these people draft 3: rewriting based on vibes and instinct draft 4: it’s giving plot. it’s giving theme. it’s giving “why is this not already done” draft 5: i forgot what the book is about again