#snowcrow

Your arms cross over your chest, eyes narrowing as you look over the business deal Sylus had been drafting out for the last twenty minutes or so. It looked an utter mess.

“Are you doubting my abilities, sweetie?” He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, words carrying an usual lack of coyness as he scribbles something else onto the paper.

“If I am?” You weren’t quite fond of his tone, nor the lack of eye contact when speaking to you. Maybe it was pushy, but he had spoiled you beyond belief. Sylus did create this monster after all, now he and…

“I told you two to separate.” Zayne’s voice broke through before Sylus could retaliate, causing both of you to stiffen momentarily. He had told you to give each other space, you had been picking little fights with each other all morning.

“She approached me first.” Sylus stated unamused, still jotting random things down onto the paper before him. Shooting him an incredulous glare, you couldn’t swallow your scoff if you tried, “Oh, real mature!”

Now, finally, those crimson eyes were on you. Alight with the same amusement they get every time you start to argue. “Am I wrong? You came over here and started…” the sudden push back of Zayne’s desk chair made you both jump, heads turning in his direction… partially in fear.

"I told you two to separate, did I not?" Each word felt like a threat, hazel eyes narrowing harshly at the two of you. No amount of pointing fingers were going to get either of you out of this, or with a lesser punishment for that matter. You were both in deep, deep shit.

"Y-you did." It stammers out of you, face burning as your once folded arms now find themselves neatly clasped by your hips. You're struggling to even look at him, slightly ashamed - yet honestly thrilled - to have broken his rules. At least it got his head out of his laptop...

"Oh? Not so feisty now, sweetie?" Sylus really had the gaul to act as if you were the only one in for it. The smile on his lips small yet smug. "What makes you think you're in any better shape, hmm?" Zayne refuses to let it linger for long, the room dropping a degree or two in temperature as Sylus' lips twitch into a frown.

"Z, you really can't-" "Oh, but I can."

He's only a few feet from the two of you now, but the level of authority in his tone and stance as you fighting the urge to hide behind Sylus. As if you weren't ready to start repetitively flicking his forehead moments prior. "You two need to learn how to get along, and I intend on making that happen right now." This time, you really do take a step back.

Beside you, Sylus has set down his pen. Leaning back in his chair with an eyebrow raised. "We can't bicker? That seems highly-" Zayne is moving forward, without saying a word, the movement is enough to quiet Sylus all together. "You can bicker all you want, but not when I'm working, not when I've told you both to stay apart."

Zayne looks between the two of you, irritation visible in his eyes. Only amplified by the bulge forming in his pants. You really pushed your luck, truly and deeply pushed it beyond its breaking point.

"You're both utterly disobedient. I need to fix that. Now."

[♕]: including — fem!reader, suggestive, mentions of previous intercourse, Xavier being freaked out. [౨ৎ] synopsis: attractive things the lads!men do!

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SYLUS.

ꕤ that smirk he does brow + his eyebrows? omfg; its an understatement saying that sylus is hot. It's completely another thing to talk about level of hot he is, especially when he gives you that panty dropping smirk usually followed by a teasing remark. "Don't get all shy now, you started this with me. I'm simply ending it, sweetie."

ꕤ how he cleans his gun; if you had a dollar for every time you practically drooled over Sylus just idly sitting in a chair, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, eyes lazily focused, hands methodically working the oiled cloth over sleek metal—you’d be rich. He barely glances up, but when he catches you staring he smirks faintly, murmuring, “See something you like kitten?”

ZAYNE.

ꕤ how he adjusts his watch/cufflinks; there’s something almost hypnotic about Zayne’s movements—the way his long fingers fasten a cufflink, the faint tug at his lip as he smooths his sleeve, then the soft click of his watch clasp settling into place. Never rushing, just purposeful. And you'd be lying like hell if you said it didn't make you wanna pounce on him.

ꕤ when he randomly flirts back with you; it’ll be random too, slipping out so effortlessly it leaves you blinking in surprise. You could've been making a joke about how he's so easily flustered and how adorable it is when you tease him while scrolling on your phone, and as he's passing by he'll briefly whisper in your ear: "I could say the same thing about how loud you screamed my name last night, whilst begging me for more."

The window pane is cold against your back. If you focused enough on the sensation, you could feel the heavy raindrops pattering against the glass. But your attention isn't on the icy-cold glass panes, nor the way the stone sill is digging into the undersides of your thighs. All you can pay attention to is Sylus.

And his tongue.

Sylus's fingers curl around your thighs, letting them splay over his shoulders. Your left foot is pressed into his palm as his thumb presses into the arch of your foot. You react, curling into his palm. It's ticklish, especially when his thumb runs over the hell of your foot. It's sore, the skin giving in under his touch.

"Sylus, you—!" You grit between your teeth, a moan lurching from your lips. Your free hand tugs at his hair, tousled in a mess of white-grey. For twenty minutes he's had you perched against the window pane of this secluded hallway, his tongue nestled deep inside of you.

He's a terror, to be frank.

He's a terror because no matter how much you fight against him, slouch over his shoulders, the man will not let up. Shame makes your face hot. Not to mention his eyes have been on you the whole time, soaking up your expressions and sounds.

Sylus could watch you for hours. His stomach churns and knots with pride, visually understanding how good he can make you feel with just his mouth.

"Please, Sy." You tug at his scalp once more. He retaliates by pressing into the arch of your foot again. You slouch back against the window pane, pressing your flushed cheek against it. It's grounding, but it isolates just how sensitive your body is.

He does it on purpose, and you know that.

"Someone could—Ah!— come by…" Your words taper off as he pushes you closer to your umpteenth orgasm. It's sickening the way you salivate at the thought that he will keep going. Despite the tears that prick at your lashes, or the fact your thighs are trembling around his ears.

Sylus hums something against your skin, his nose bumping against your clit. You're so close you can almost taste it. It's right within your grasp. Your body tenses, nails scraping against his scalp. However, the sound of worried footsteps has him pulling away with ease.

You can't decide whether you're angry or relieved. Your face contorts into confusion as Sylus eases your foot back into your heel. He adjusts the straps, straightening the bottom of your dress. To anyone passing by, he seems like a gentlemen helping his partner. However, the man that stands at the end of the hall knows better.

"You can't be serious." Your eyes are too bleary to focus on him, but you know who is hurriedly walking down the hall. Zayne comes to your side, letting you lean against him. He eyes Sylus, his free hand coming out to smooth Sylus's hair. "You two are ridiculous."

Sylus shrugs, lacing his fingers with yours. He kisses your knuckles then your shoulder before kissing your tears.

"I had some time before I was supposed to leave. I wanted to say hello." Zayne sighs at Sylus's words, a worried hand pulling you into his embrace. "Are you alright? Would you like some water?" He mutters against your skin as you recuperate. You mumble into his suit,

"I want to kill Sylus." Sylus presses behind you, kissing the nape of your neck. His hand wanders into Zayne's side pocket, slipping a spare house key out. He dangles it in front of Zayne's face.

"I'll meet you at home. I'm not one for stuffy parties. The two of you look beautiful." Zayne grumbles, feeling Sylus kiss the back of his hand. He flicks the younger man's forehead gently before departing. You look over your shoulder seeing Sylus disappear around the corner. Your fingers curl at Zayne's jacket, averting his attention back to you.

"He didn't let me—" Zayne gently rests you against the wall, kneeling down by your feet.

"Yes, I know. I'll take care of you from here."

Part 1

☆synopsis: A busy nonchalant doctor and his never ending struggle to deal with the other LADS men.

Part 1 | Part 2