Eleganti - Poly!Stuilly x FTM!Reader
If you saw this before it was reposted, no you didn't.
Warnings: Implied internalized homophobia.
Summary: The heat has managed to affect all of you, and the only solution? A date at Stu's house with a dash of nail polish. You're sure they were both thrilled.
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The summer heat truly had gotten to the three of you, with not even a cool breeze to give you relief. Rich boy Stu Macher’s parents were away for the weekend, again, which left his house the ideal place to take shelter in. If you had to be honest, you did not mind the temperature– kind of. The bottles of nail polish in your bag clinked together as you walked up the stairs; you knew Billy would be able to sit still long enough for it to dry. Stu, on the other hand, you weren’t so sure of. Not without heat and plenty of air flow.
Speaking of the devil, Billy glanced up from his book as you creaked the door open, leisurely spread on Stu’s bed. He raised an eyebrow at your appearance, before going back to reading, shifting a little to the side so you had more room to sit down. A smug grin slowly spread over your lips as you set your backpack down on the bed and unzipped it, making a show of the little, colorful bottles you displayed inside. You scooched beside it, and after setting down a towel in front of you, cracked open the first container.
Seeming to catch the smell, Billy spoke up, “Nail polish?”
“Yeah, want some?” He watched as you meticulously picked the colors you wanted, his mouth pursing.
“Not right now.”
You shrugged, applying a lavender base to your fingernails, “Suit yourself!”
Your hand flinched as the door was shoved open, smearing the liquid down your skin, only to be greeted by the eccentric figure of Stu. Upon seeing the predicament he caused, he bounced his shoulders and held up his hands beside his head, with an exaggerated frown.
“Uh… whoops!”
He sauntered over, pressing his face into your shoulder. In response, you slapped the towel onto his face after wiping the spilled polish on the material. Stu grumbled something; it was ineligible.
It eventually slid off on its own, with a little help from the teen shaking his head, “Suffocate me, why don’t you?”
Chuckling, you said, “You were the one who made me mess up, tough guy.”
“I totally meant for that to happen.” He slipped his arm over you, hanging like a sloth.
“If you meant it, then you have to be my test subject!”
Stu made a noise, contemplating. You wouldn’t force him to wear it, of course, but it was funny threatening something so harmless anyway. After just a few seconds, you felt the weight on your back release; Stu had moved in favor of shoving your bag into Billy to make space for himself. Then, the noodle of a guy flopped across from you, sitting criss-crossed with the most shit eating grin you have ever seen. Billy scowled at the rough treatment, but the expression was covered by the other’s knee.
He leaned forward, “Gimme orange.”
“Good choice!”
To prevent smearing, you blew on your covered nails as best you could, before bright orange coated the tiny brush in your hand. Stu seemed giddy as you took his hand, peering down, applying the cool liquid with precision. It was such a contrast to what his hand felt like; rough and as warm as a furnace. In the corner of your eye, you could see Billy’s eyes watching over Stu’s jeans, his book long forgotten. Finally, you finished, and allowed the fidgety boy to hold up his palms. His eyes were wide as he admired your handiwork, flexing his fingers with pride.
Stu tapped the top of Billy’s head with his elbow, “Hey, dude, want some of this?”
“Hm.”
“C’mon—”
“Black.”
You snickered, “I knew you’d crack.”
Billy rolled his eyes and leaned on Stu, holding out a hand. He shivered when you made a slight mistake, and gave you an unimpressed look as you fixed it with the edge of your towel. You could only complete one hand before he stopped you.
“Look who’s gonna be Cruella this Halloween!” Stu sneered, poking the other’s nose.
“Hey, hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You shut the bottle, carefully sealing them all back in your bag, “Fuddy duddy William could be making a new trend.”
“Never call me that again. Is this enough for you two?”
Stu cocked his head, “Lemme think… nope.”
You stretched your body out, setting your belongings on the ground. Opening Stu’s own closet, you ran your fingers over the variety of shirts and robes the guy had. In the very back, there was a band shirt, obviously too small for Stu; he grew out of it by the time he was sixteen. You held it out, studying it, before shrugging and taking it off the hanger. Your shirt flew over your head and smacked Stu in the face, but the air soothed the sweat that was gathering under your double sport bras, at least for a moment. Then, the newer shirt covered everything back up, and the dark material banned anyone from clocking the extra layers underneath.
“Why don’t we go out for ice cream?” you suggested.
Stu pumped his fist, even though your shirt was still clinging to his body. Billy shook his head, a little smile playing on his lips when Stu ran out the door, presumably to get his car keys. You, on the other hand, hesitated when you saw a shadow underneath the shirt, where your chest lay. The only other boy left in the room must have caught on, because you felt a passing hand on your shoulder and a whisper in your ear.
“You look fine, it’s normal.”
He met your gaze. However, someone was getting impatient, as a muffled shout rang through the closed window, “Coming? I’m totally getting pistachio this time, and you gotta be here to see me try it!”
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My boyfriend is, almost exclusively, a sub. And I love him for it! I love watching him crumble and break, the resolve leaving him as his eyes go wide. It's delightful...
But, something must have been gnawing at him last night. Something got under his skin, I think. Both him and our roommate. They'd been teasing me about body writing - and, I'm ashamed to say, I forgot the exact context of what they intended until they had me chained up and pinned down. They marked and divided out my flesh, skin separated by dotted butcher's lines into regions that they could squabble over. They barely responded to my whines and complaints. They'd stopped thinking about me as a person by that point - just cuts of meat to be done with as they saw fit. A breast to one, my throat to the other. Flanks and tenderloins, biceps and fingers - each marked. Divvied out. Claimed.
My roommate bid himself adieu after they had made their selections and unchained me. He's very good at sharing, and so took the chance to leave me in my boyfriend's hands.
Now, my boyfriend, my bunny, an acolyte to his goddess... he'd threatened and teased me before, but - those times were almost always moments of smirking play. Times when he wanted me to break him down. Remind him who was in charge.
Last night... he was not playing. It wasn't long at all before casual conversation transitioned to him pinning me down - no mean feat for a bunny his size. He whispered in my ear about all the different ways he intended to use the portions of my flesh he'd marked out. Told me, as he forced me to roll over and fuck him, that he'd be taking the portions that weren't his, too - told me he was too greedy to share my divided body. He sounded insatiable. Possessed. And for a blissful time, I allowed whatever demon took him to wrest control.
But... a possession requires an exorcism. And one can only take so much snark and vitriol before the urge to restore the balance rears its head. It was only natural to purify his soul by forcing his head down into the pillow, feeling him writhe and squirm for air. Again, and again. When that wasn't enough, I coiled my fingers around his throat, taking his breath to silence the fell demon inside him.
By the time he'd regained his ability to speak, he asked for his soul to be cleansed. He's a very devout acolyte, of course - and so the searing strikes of the whip across his flesh were enough to drive the rest of the darkness from him.
I truly don't know what demon got into him - but I have the sneaking suspicion that a floodgate has been opened. I fear that he may find himself even more corruptible now, a vessel for malevolence that neither of us yet know the true potential of.
I can only hope.
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Compartmentalizing here because if it's in a note on my phone, it's gone and I wanna share my ideas
Zombie apocalypse scenario because that's how I got fuckin neck deep in this cod stuff to begin with and there aren't enough for male/gn readers or aren't super depressing (angst is fun but I'm a hurt comfort man)
Posting that price one shot I already wrote
Fulfilling a request (technically two but they're very similar so I may lump them into one? TBD)
Got a ghost thing I've got kinda scribbled out in a doc
Polyam ghoap where one if them is kidnapped instead of you (I know I said Johnny in my little blurb but also the antsy possibilities of ghost being napped instead is making me go wild)
More polyam stuff in general cuz four pretty boys all snuggling me and each other? Yeah
That price x loyal dog fic I wanna write. May very possibly make it a hybrid au thing cuz I see a lot of those but I make absolutely no promises on that exact detail happening lol
Also no promises but I do wanna continue my castlevania fic at some point. It's one of the most fun things I've ever written and I miss it
Edit: also royal au stuff too because ugh prince x knight forbidden/hidden love type stuff absolutely destroys me
I think that's it jfc writing brainworms really just go hog wild when you allow yourself to indulge huh
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