#fishcrow

his tone was rugged, almost accusatory, cutting rafayel’s saccharin words with a straightforwardness you weren’t familiar with. his bleached head emerged from beneath your raised blouse, abandoning the staring contest he had with your bare boobs for a chance to gaze into your eyes.

the intense crimson shade of his orbs made you squirm, and your arms threatened to fall to your sides, to block the nakedness of your upper body from sylus.

all because of his sharp look.

“mhmm, a mix of both?” rafayel answered his question once more, intentionally blocking any chance for you to speak up. not because you were against it — he made sure to convince you to agree, sweetly manipulating you just the right amount — but because he is the one that dictates the condition of his toys.

and if rafayel wants your beautiful tits to be accessorized by two metal bars, that’s what will happen.

“she reaaaaally wants to get them, don’t you, princess?” and with that, rafayel leaned into you from behind, hands taking shelter on your shoulders, chin resting on the top of your head. flashing a wide grin towards sylus’ seated frame.

taking physical dominance over your body while putting on a cheeky expression for his favourite senior delinquent.

“tsk.” is all sylus did, rolling his eyes at the palpable coercion and strange attachment that connected the two of you. alas, that was none of his business — so he dipped his head back down, silently instructing you to pinch the blouse higher so he could have better access to your chest.

and assess the situation before him.

“well, i hate to break it to you, kitten, but i can’t work with… this.” tatted hand shot away from his knees, hovering in the air right before your boobs, drawing a circle to indicate the problem area — which was your entire chest.

“you sure love to mark your territory, huh?”

the last few words weren’t addressed to you — finally, but to the purple-haired man behind you. you could hear the soft hum that vibrated in his throat, travelling down your spine and detonating an array of goosebumps across your skin.

it prickled the area under sylus’ gaze too, skin hardening with tiny dips… nipples hardening into two attention-seeking peaks. they were like two shiny pebbles, gleaming beautifully and begging to be admired, to be worshipped, to be caressed.

and, apparently, sylus wasn’t the only one that thought that. your tits, the valley between them, the patches of flesh beneath your collarbones — they were all marked, tainted by arduous kissing, licking, and biting.

it did not take a genius to determine the culprit of such a massacre.

rafayel chuckled darkly at sylus’ expression, taking in the growing pupil that threatened to swallow whole the reddish color of his eyes. he bit his lips, trying to mask the satisfaction on his face as he visibly fed on the humiliation and excitement that washed over you.

you were slowly turning into a depraved woman, following in his footsteps, taking delight in strange sexual escapees.

“pff, i couldn’t resist. she begged so prettily for me to play with her!”

coy and playful, rafayel put the blame on you, mentioning loud and clear the nasty behavior you put on when it’s just the two of you. it was, of course, a lie — after convincing you to attend a consultation for a possible piercing with his friend sylus, he brought into discussion how he would have to refrain from touching your chest during the healing process.

how he would be neglected by you.

… you couldn't not fulfill rafayel’s wish; it would have been too cruel of you.

“did she really?”

sylus’ tatted fingers finally made contact then — the pad of his thumb pressing against your left areola, right where the skin had turned an angry, blotchy red. you gasped, hips jerking forward, and the motion made rafayel’s hands tighten on your shoulders.

ah, his plan was working perfectly once more.

“look at this.” sylus spat out, and there was something almost like disgust in his voice. he pinched gently, rolling the hardened peak between his thumb and forefinger, and a bolt of lightning shot straight to your cunt.

“swollen. hot to the touch. bruising already forming here, and here–” he traced the outline of a dark mark, a perfect imprint of rafayel’s teeth. “–he bit you. hard enough to break capillaries.”

you tried to muffle the whimper that prepared to escape your throat, his tweakings of your nipple proving too much; as a last resort, you shoved the fabric of your blouse between your lips, biting down onto it for silence.

“he didn’t just suck them, did he?” sylus continued, relentless, hypothesizing about what rafayel did to you before this so-called appointment. he tugged — just slightly — and your back arched involuntarily, pushing your chest further into his hand. “latched on like a goddamn leech. probably spent an hour with his mouth on you, mhm?”

“heard that, princess?” rafayel muttered into your hair, his breath growing heavy from watching sylus touch you. “i told you he was an expert.”

sylus ignored him, more interested in your boobs.

his other hand, also adorned by inked scribbles,  came up, cradling your right breast now; he repeated the inspection — pinch, roll, tug. all while you bit down harder on your blouse, muffling the disgusting pleasure that was generated in you by being at the hands of an unknown man.

a rebellious moan tried to claw its way out of your throat, desperate and humiliating, and it... successfully broke through the cotton. and you knew both of them heard it by the way rafayel snickered and sylus’ jaw tightened.

you were making it so hard for him to stay composed.

“you can’t pierce these.” sylus repeated once more, moving his fingers away from your nipples, only to fully cup your chest — the aggravated skin of yours looked stunning in his larger, shaded hands. “but you already knew that, didn't you, raf?”

“ah–” the sigh came out stifled around the fabric in your mouth, a dash of pleasure ripping through you as sylus moved his hands around, forcing your tits up and smushing them together.

shit, you were so hot.

“you just wanted to show off your toy, parade it in front of me.”

not an ounce of shame flashed across his face as the truth surfaced. caught red-handed, rafayel just… confessed. “of course i did.”

you blinked up at sylus, a bit disoriented by the entire ordeal, and saw something flicker across his face — something dark and amused and almost… sympathetic.

it was different from caleb’s reaction.

“he wanted me to see you, kitten.” sylus explained, though you hadn’t asked, sensing the confusion in your mind. “wanted me to touch you. wanted you to break as you stood here with your tits out and your legs shaking.” he leaned forward, further into your chest, keeping his firm grasp onto your body.

as if he was taking you as leverage.

“didn’t you, rafayel?”

a beat of silence.

then, rafayel laughed — low and utterly unapologetic. “you know me so well, sy.”

your face burned. your chest ached. between your thighs, something else was aching too, something you refused to acknowledge even as rafayel’s hips pressed just slightly tighter against your back.

“you should also know me; i am not caleb. i will not–”

sylus began his ministration, standing his ground against rafayel, kneading and groping with none of the clinical detachment from before. he was feeling you up, mapping the swell of your breasts with his palms, thumbs dragging across your nipples in rough circles that made you squeak in pain and pleasure.

as if he was taunting rafayel, rubbing it in his face that he won't submit.

“i ain’t no dog.”

“ugh– ngh– sy­–lus.”

and you were unintentionally helping him, whining and moaning his name like a mantra, almost confirming that he had the upper hand in this interaction.

“sy, sy, sy. you are a guest! i know better than to do that.”

“good.” the word was quickly murmured, more like a warning than a confirmation, before sylus lowered his head.

and licked.

the flat of his tongue dragged across your right nipple, hot and wet, and you jerked so violently that rafayel had to lock his arms to keep you in place. sylus did it again, slower this time, savoring the way the swollen peak pebbled further under his attention. then he closed his lips around it and sucked — gentle, so much gentler than rafayel had been.

but the bruises intensified the feeling, making his somewhat gentleness feel like a restless attack.

“kitten…”

sylus pulled off with a wet pop, examining the glistening skin with hooded eyes. “look down at me, kitten.” he instructed, taking a commanding tone similar to rafayel’s. “this is how it would look like when you–”

but he did not finish his sentence, intentionally leaving it incomplete to demonstrate, rather than tell, what he wanted to achieve.

and here he was, trusting his tongue out between his wet lips, showing off the shiny metalball that was pierced into the muscle.

“oh, fuck.”

you cursed out loud as he approached your left nipple, pressing the tongue right on it and creating an illusion with his own piercing. making it seem like you were the one accessorized.

“oh fuck indeed, princess. look how gorgeous that looks on you!” rafayel whistled from behind, leaning over the two of you to admire sylus’ work. the shiny metal looked stunning on your marked skin, gleaming together with the purplish bruises and the teeth marks he left behind.

sylus only hummed, disregarding rafayel, now engulfing the nipple fully with his lips and blocking his view. he worshipped the bruised areola with the tip of his tongue, dragging the piercing across the sensitive skin.

and you sobbed — actually sobbed — into the fabric of your blouse.

the sensation was too much, too sharp, too good. every nerve in your chest felt like it was on fire, and sylus was pouring more gasoline.

“sy– ngh, please–”

“what is it, hm? perhaps you want my marks too?”

...

“that can be easily arranged, kitten.”

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