you're worried tutor!zayne is fed up with trying to help you understand anatomical structures.
synopsis :: zayne has been your tutor for quite some time now and it's all been on anatomy... there really was no rhyme or reason behind your need to research deeper into anatomical structures but now that you asked, you're trapped. however, you can also sense zayne being a bit more annoyed every time it does come down to tutoring. so why not ease the cold blow with sweets! the true way to his heart! and who could deny some delicious fudge brownies.
a/n :: a drabble for the utmost lover girl for zayne ever -> @sickenedove mostly fluff, little make out session. suggested dry humping, oral fixation (finger), uhmm zayne lowkey being a smart ass. uhh... idk i just had sm fun writing this okay bai.
9:26 AM.
the softest breeze blew into your house, your windows just barely cracked open as you were trying to properly “setting the mood” for your upcoming tutoring session. your desk was laid out with a textbook you bought under the recommendation of zayne; as well as your notebook and a vast variety of fountain pens. you were quite the collector of them. sometimes you see zayne using one and wonder if you influenced him in a way...
you turned off the big light and instead turned on the lamp accompanying your desk, the soft ginger hue making the room not seem so harsh and clinical. zayne had told you that such bright lights all the time makes you more susceptible to light migraines.
right as your eyes adjusted to the new lighting in your space, the soft beeps of a timer began to go off from your phone. “ooh perfect timing!” you whisper excitedly to yourself, doing the tiniest clap of your hands. you turn off the timer before heading to the kitchen. you carefully slip a tray of perfectly fudgy brownies out of the oven, gasping at the sheer smell of chocolate filling your entire apartment.
“mmm... he's gonna love these!” well, you sure hoped so. you didn't scour the internet for the most perfect brownie recipe ever (and you shamelessly texted zayne at an ungodly hour asking for his favorite type of brownies - to which he was very confused but provided an answer for you anyway).
you reach up into your cabinets, serving two plates with two brownies on each and decided to serve a glass of almond milk with them. hopefully he'll enjoy it! like you really really hoped! you were going out of your way with all of this just because the last time he tutored you, you could sense the sharpness in his short and sometimes one word responses.
but to be fair, he's the professional. sure, you should know at least the basics of your own bodily anatomy but it's so confusing. all you really need to understand is that your heart and lungs work together to help you breathe. however, you do understand that zayne takes anyone asking him for help very seriously, especially you.
you set the plates and drinks on your dining table, a small one but it was big enough to at least sit two people.
and then suddenly a soft knock was placed on your front door. you sucked in a breath instinctively before turning to face it. your hands dropped to your sides and you approached the door with a warm smile, opening it before him. “zayne! you're here!”
“mhm. why wouldn't I be? our designated time is always 9:30.” he replied, as stark as ever. you nodded, letting out a small sigh.
“I know! I just....” you paused, trying to find your words but decided to forget about it. “uhh, nevermind. come on in!” your smile never faltered as your opened the door further, letting him walk in.
as his polished shoes echoed against the floor, he began to speak again. “you should really lock your doors.” you paused at his sentence. “huh?”
“it's not safe to leave your doors unlocked, especially at night. as a hunter I expected you of all people to know that.” ouch.
your smile did falter then, the door shutting softly now as you followed behind him. “hey! my neighbors are friendly!”
zayne stood still and looked back at you, then fully turned and stared. his brows furrowed and he exhaled through his nostrils. “have they personally deemed themselves trustworthy?”
you pause, tapping your chin with the side of your index finger. “not really..?” and then you watched his expression twitch for a split second before remaining blank, per usual. “then you cannot guarantee they are friendly just by the mere fact they are your neighbors, y/n.”
you roll your eyes at him. “you make it sound like I don't know how to defend myself if there were an intruder, zayne.” his brows just furrowed again. he pushed up his glasses and cleared his throat.
“let's just focus on tutoring then.”
“sounds like a plan to me!” your strides catch up to his side and when he was about to set his own items down you stop him from grabbing at the textbook. “actuuaallyyy, i have a surprise!”
zayne almost looks concerned. “what? we don't have time for surprises, y/n—” you let out a dramatic groan at his words. “pleeeeaaaaseeeee, it's worth it!”
“hm. fine, I suppose we can work around this surprise of yours.” he mutters, beginning to follow you into the small dining room besides your kitchen. you spin to face him and do small jazz hands. “surprise! I made us brownies, a wonderful treat before tutoring!” you exclaim, anticipating his reaction. he couldn't tell if your smile was going to get wider or get more awkward.
“brownies? please tell me this isn't your choice of breakfast.”
...
you stay silent, well, maybe it was your option of breakfast but what's the matter with brownies for breakfast! they provided sugar which is a great energy boost for the day!
zayne tilts his head at you and puts his hands on his hips, like someone about to scold you. “you need to be on a better diet for breakfast. tomorrow morning I'll make you breakfast.” your eyes widen at his offer. you wanted to protest but he was already sitting down in one of the chairs. he gestured to the other, waiting for you to sit.
you blink a few times and sit down across from him. “is this why you asked me what type of brownies I preferred?” he asked. you simply nodded, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “yes!” “why did you need my preference for a treat?”
you froze at his question. you weren't sure how to open up about feeling like you disappoint him sometimes when you take a while to understand the topic or just sometimes don't get it at all. he notices your silence and his brows twitch. he knows your habit of getting quiet usually means he's about to get a ramble.
to which he was right, your lips started moving before you could process, “well I thought to make them so you'd be a bit more happier before tutoring me! you seem so annoyed trying to explain probably very simple things and sometimes your words are harsh...”
you pause and huff, your ramble coming to an end. he looked like he was thinking of what to respond with. “and you thought brownies would help me stay collected?” ... “yeah...”
zayne actually let out a chuckle. a faint, tiny one. you'd really have to be quiet to hear it. “rest assured, I am not annoyed at you when tutoring you. I simply don't have basic analogies that will help you understand the textbook terms better.”
you blinked once. and then again just to make sure you heard him right. that was definitely good reassurance. and probably the most you will get out of him about it. a wave of relief washes over you and a sigh follows. “thank goodness! I would have felt horrible otherwise if you did hate tutoring me.” you paused and stared at the brownies, then looked back up at him.
“you don't have to eat it if you don't want—”
zayne cleared his throat. “why would I waste a chocolate delight? plus, I have to make sure they are of good quality in case anyone else gets to try your chocolate creation.” he hummed, picking up the fork and taking a bite of the brownie.
you lifted your fork but watched him as he took a bite of it, waiting to see his reaction, he seemed thoroughly surprised but you couldn't tell if that was a good thing. “well?” you mumble.
“it's edible.” he replied, digging in for another bite.
“that doesn't give me much hope that it tastes good, zayne.” you laugh a little and he just exhales, another faint chuckle back.
“don't worry. your chocolate delight turned out delicious, consider me a fan.” he smiled at you, finishing his second bite with a wash down of milk. you couldn't help but smile at his words, now taking a bite of the fudgy goodness.
you let out a satisfied sigh at the flavors hitting your tongue, blissfully unaware of the chocolate surrounding the corners of your lips. “wow! I'm a brownie genius! I should open a bakery or something. do you think I'd get a lot of business?” you jokingly asked, taking another bite.
however, you didn't get a reply back. confused you look up from your plate and notice zayne staring intently. you blinked at him and reached your hand up to your face. “is something on my face?”
“yes. you eat like a messy kid.” he huffed a little, and the tops of his ears were getting red? you sighed and stood up from your chair. as you began to walk in the direction of your paper towels, zayne stops you.
you let out a soft gasp, faint. “huh—” ... “let me. it'd be a waste of chocolate if you grab a napkin.” your eyes widened and before you could protest, you were pulled in just a tad bit more. slowly he stood from his chair, your head slowly craning up to look at him.
and with such focus you feel his thumb graze one corner of your bottom lip, swiping the chocolate off. your eyes flicked between his and his thumb. you watched him bring his thumb to his mouth, licking up the small bit of chocolate. then he reached out again to swipe the next bit on the other corner. and again, he licked it up.
however the last bit of it rested on your bottom lip. his eyes strayed from staring into yours to now at your lips, you noticed it all too well. your heart beat picked up instantly, you weren't sure how it hadn't before until now. maybe you just now processed what he was doing? and how you didn't mind teetering on the fine line of professional friends or... something else.
“I have already been so greedy...” he sighed softly, his thumb brushing the under part of your bottom lip before he swiped up the last bit of chocolate off your lip. then carefully he pushed down on your bottom lip, not harshly, but a tap. you slowly open your mouth before he urged his thumb.
your tongue flicks out as you carefully lick the chocolate off of his thumb. and in the midst of all of this you two are sharing such a strong eye contact, you're surprised that your knees didn't buckle. it was so intimate... when you finished licking the chocolate off his thumb, you though that was the end of it. but slowly he submerged his finger into your mouth.
you gasp softly, your tongue brushing against his skin. he just kept his thumb still for a moment before he carefully slipped the finger out. the smallest bit of drool hung on your lips and he let out a strangled grunt, like he didn't want to make a noise at all but ended up doing so anyway.
“come here.”
in a swift motion, zayne tugged you onto him as he fell back into the chair, your body straddling him now. you were so confused on what was going on but you weren't complaining either. where did this sudden urge come from? “zayne what are you—”
“I will inquire your questions later, for now I just really want to kiss you.” he confessed, which entirely caught you off guard. you cheeks warmed and how could you ever deny such an offer from a man who looked so desperate to kiss you? no seriously, brows furrowed, tops of his cheekbones a light pink and his ears burning red.
like a happy seal.
you simply nod your head, leaning your head in to kiss him. his hands cup your head gently, his own tilting up to meet your lips as you leaned in. soft breaths, and hitching of breath began to pick up as the two of you kissed. one of his hands carefully dropping to rub your back, the other getting tangled in your locks.
the kiss was gentle and borderline sensual almost. and to think, this all started with a brownie and you being a little messy eater - now here you were in zayne's lap, practically making out with him.
you let out a soft pants into the kiss, your own hands running up his chest and travelling to the back of his neck to play with his hair. he let out a pant as well as soon as your fingers met his scalp. “you're so gentle, so warm...”
you smiled against his lips and continued to wrap some strands of his hair around your hands, the intimacy of playing with his hair as he indulged in your lips was something you never expected yourself to enjoy so much. unfortunately though, you needed air.
you pulled back just barely and zayne grunted, pulling you right back in to kiss him. “zayne—wait—”
“do you expect me to hold back when you taste so sweet?” he practically whined into your lips, which made something sputter deep within your core, your hips twitching just barely. he felt them move and pulled your body into his more.
he wanted to feel the warmth of you seep into his clothes, make him warm and fuzzy too. he wanted to be warm with you. you both continued on and on for a while, to the point you were comfortably in his lap, sitting right against him. by the time you were free to pull away and zayne knew he should refrain... you both looked spent just from kissing.
your hair just the slightest bit messed up and your shirt scrunched a little. as for zayne, his glasses were just barely tilted and a little foggy and his entire face was a soft hue of red, deep shade of pink. both of your chests heaved, catching your breath.
“that was....” “—interesting.” zayne finished your sentence, humming a tad. you couldn't help but immediately ask.
“why did you want to kiss me?”
he stayed silent for a good moment, eventually turning his head away from you now. you scoff, poking his chest. “hey! you said you'd answer me after that!”
he grumbled, fixing his glasses before looking back at you. “it was pent up.”
pent... up? he seemed to see your confusion still, earning a sigh from him as well. “you're very cute when you are confused. and with tutoring I... had the urge so many times to kiss you but there was never a good opening. so I tried hiding it.”
for some reason that made a lot of sense. hence why he seemed so annoyed and grumpy! he was overly masking! but also... he's wanted to what now!? you stare at him flabbergasted before letting out the smallest fit of giggles.
“what are you laughing at?” he asked. you simply shake your head. “soo the chocolate gave you the courage to kiss me?”
you asked, but still not able to contain your fit of giggles. instead of answering you verbally, he just nodded firmly.
Starlight does not want to go home so i'm going to post these pics for now 😭😭😭😭 i'm still grinding for dias to pull his Birthday banner 🥹🥹 Goodluck to the other Xavieee girlies I hope you can get him in 10 pulls 🥹
so I wanted to take a pic with a similar pose that I took with Sylus, but with Xavier instead, it came off looking like my MC is going to eat Xavi 🤭🤣🤣 but we all know who's eating who with these two if ya know what i mean 😏😏 made me laugh a bit xD
Synopsis: Gaming sessions with Xavier never go according to plan. Controllers slip aside, strategies dissolve, and playful rivalry transforms into the kind of intimacy that makes yo forget everything else.
Word count: 1967
Warnings: Fluff. Teasing. Intense kissing. Xavier being a little freaky (canon-typical). Mix of playful and tender intimacy.
____
“Bold strategy,” Xavier says, not looking away from the screen as his character effortlessly dodges your attack. “Bold, but terrible.”
You elbow him, which only makes him lean slightly away without missing a beat in the combo he’s executing. “I’m getting used to the controls.”
“You’ve been getting used to them for the past hour.”
“Some of us don’t have otherworldly reflexes.”
“Otherworldly?” Xavier finally glances at you, deadpan as ever. “I prefer light-enhanced.”
You’re both sprawled on the living room carpet, controllers in hand, the coffee table pushed aside to make room. Empty snack bowls and soda cans sit forgotten nearby, the remnants of a weekend spent in cozy exile from the rain—reading, movies, cuddles, and now this. The game on screen is brutal, all quick timing and ruthless precision. And Xavier, predictably, is demolishing you.
“Okay, new game,” you announce after your character has died for the tenth time. “Preferably one that doesn’t require the reflexes of a royal guard.”
He goes still for the briefest moment, like your words struck someplace deeper than you meant. Then his composure slides neatly back into place. “Mm. Perhaps not.”
You ruffle his hair, earning a sound somewhere between laughter and indignation. “Something lighter then? Adrenaline infusion, please.”
Xavier tilts his head with mock seriousness. “Racing game?”
“Racing game.”
He switches the disc with practiced efficiency. When the bright, colorful menu loads up—complete with cartoon cars and upbeat music—the contrast is almost jarring.
“Much better,” you say, selecting your vehicle. “Now we’re on even ground.”
“Are we?” There’s that slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, the one that usually means trouble.
The first race starts, and for about a minute, you think you might actually have a chance. Then Xavier’s little star-shaped car starts pulling ahead with the kind of precision that suggests he’s somehow calculated the optimal racing line within the first turn.
“How are you this good at everything?” you demand as he laps you.
“I’m not good at everything.”
“Name one thing you’re bad at.”
You’re thinking about his cooking skills, but even there he manages to look semi-competent in a half-burnt kitchen. Or at least endearing. Distractingly kissable. Your gaze lingers on his lips before you catch yourself. His expression, of course, is calm.
“Losing.” Xavier says it so matter-of-factly that you can’t help but laugh.
“That’s not—Xavier, that doesn’t count.”
“Seems relevant to our current situation.”
You’re still laughing when you miss the next turn entirely, your car spinning off the track in a spectacular display of sparks and cartoon sound effects. When you look over, Xavier has paused the game and is watching you with an expression that’s gone softer around the edges, more calculating.
“What?” you ask, suddenly aware of how his gaze seems to track every detail of your face.
“Nothing.” But Xavier doesn’t restart the race. Instead, he sets his controller aside with that slow, deliberate finality you’ve learned means he’s made a decision about something. “Actually, I think I prefer this game.”
“What game?”
“This one.” And suddenly you’re being pulled into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your back settles against his chest, his arms coming around your waist with effortless certainty. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing. “The reward system’s much better.”
“Xavier.” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, especially when his chin comes to rest on your shoulder.
“Mm?” His lips brush against your ear when he speaks, and you can feel his smile. “You were saying something about being on even ground?”
You try to form a coherent response, but then his mouth finds that sensitive spot just below your ear and your brain temporarily stops working. The game menu music is still playing in the background, cheerful and completely at odds with the way your pulse is racing under his attention.
“I was winning,” you manage, though your voice wavers when his hands settle more firmly on your hips.
“Were you?” His thumbs trace slow, deliberate arcs across your hipbones through your shirt. “Because from where I’m sitting, I think I just scored the ultimate victory.”
You turn in his arms to face him, which was definitely a mistake because now you can see that look in his eyes—half-innocent, half-something else entirely that makes your stomach flip. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet, here you are.” He leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath warm against your lips, close enough to see the way his pupils have dilated slightly. “Funny how that works.”
Your heart is beating faster, louder in your ears than the rain drumming against the windows. Xavier makes a low sound in the back of his throat, then closes the distance with a rough, satisfied, “Got you.“
Xavier kisses you with the same precise intensity he brings to everything else. Measured at first, like he’s testing angles and responses. His hands frame your face, warm and steady, and you can taste the hint of his smirk against your mouth. But the moment you sigh against him, something shifts. The careful control doesn’t fray. It sharpens.
His kiss turns deeper, more commanding, one hand sliding into your hair while the other grips your waist with newfound purpose. When you make a soft sound against his mouth, he pulls back just enough to study your face with that calculating look you recognize from when he’s about to win something.
“Interesting,” Xavier murmurs, thumb brushing across your lower lip. “You make that sound when I do this—” He tugs gently at your hair, and you gasp. “And your breathing changes when I—” His other hand slides higher, palm pressing against your ribs before settling at the edge of your bare stomach. You arch into the touch without meaning to, and he smiles like he’s just solved a puzzle.
“Xavier,” you breathe, but it comes out more like a plea than a protest.
“There it is again.” His smile is wicked now, sharper than usual. “Let’s see if I can get another one out of you. Little louder, maybe.”
He sucks at your neck, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp his name.
“Xavier—”
“Mmh. There. That’s it.” His lips drag lower, heat blooming everywhere he touches. When he tugs your shirt off with a careless shrug, his gaze drags over you slowly, hungry. The look in his eyes makes you shiver.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, but it’s not just praise. It’s claim.
You pull him back down urgently, kissing him with all the want he’s stoked out of you. Your hands bunch at his sweatshirt until he lifts his arms obligingly. When he notices your flushed face, he smirks, eyes glinting.
“Good.”
You roll your eyes to cover your blush, then guide his hands back to your body. “The round’s not finished.”
That earns you a look—intent, predatory, patient.
“You know,” he says, voice dipping lower as his thumb brushes your cheek, “I’ve been approaching this all wrong. Games are about patterns. Input, response.”
And then he kisses you again. This time like he’s testing every button, every weakness, and memorizing all your tells.
You’re almost dizzy under his attention, the precision of it, until instinct takes over. You thread your fingers into his hair and tug just enough to pull a groan from deep in his chest. You kiss him more urgently then, moaning into his mouth. The sound breaks through his composure like a crack through glass. His eyes widen, then darken with unrestrained want.
“Fuck,” His voice is rough, undone. “The way you…when you do that—” His thoughts fragment, lost in sensation as his body takes over from his mind.
His kisses become hungrier, more desperate. Gone is the measured testing from before; now he’s kissing you like he’s drowning and you’re air. His hands roam with purpose, mapping the curve of your waist, sliding up your spine, anchoring you to him. When you rock slightly in his lap, he groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you both.
“I thought I had this figured out,” he admits between kisses, voice strained. “But you keep—every time you—” He breaks off with a shudder when your nails scrape lightly along his scalp.
His next kiss is deeper, consuming, and you can feel the last remnants of his restraint slip. His hands are everywhere now. Not strategic, not cataloguing. Just wanting. One traces the line of your collarbone, the other grips your thigh with unmistakable possession. Every move says he’s lost, and he doesn’t care.
“You’re so responsive,” he whispers, wonder breaking through the hunger. “I can feel your heartbeat racing. The way you shiver when I touch you here—” His fingers brush the hollow of your throat, and you do exactly what he described.
His mouth crashes against yours again, urgent and raw. When his teeth graze your lower lip, it’s not strategy—it’s need. And when you moan softly in response, his breath stutters, his composure fully gone.
“I can’t think straight when you make that sound,” he confesses, forehead pressed to yours, voice ragged. “All my control—gone.”
The honesty of it steals your breath. When he finally pulls back, it’s only far enough to look at you, lips red and parted, eyes dark with something that’s equal parts triumph and awe.
“I should probably mention,” he says, voice low and rough, “I was letting you win at the racing game.”
You stare at him, dazed. “You what?”
His grin is shameless. “For about thirty seconds. Then you started laughing, and I realized I had a much better game to play.”
“Xavier.”
“The way you respond to me,” he continues, completely unrepentant as his hands slide back around your waist, anchoring you there, “is infinitely more rewarding than any high score.”
Before you can argue, he’s as kissing you again. Slower this time but no less intense. His mouth moves against yours with consuming certainty, and when he finally pulls away, it’s only far enough to rest his forehead against yours.
By the end, the game is long forgotten, the only rhythm left is the softened rain outside and the uneven beat of your hearts. You’re tucked against him on the carpet, his arms wrapped around you like he’s not letting go.
“Better than winning,” he whispers against your lips, smug and certain, but the edge has gone softer, quieter. The game menu is still looping somewhere in the background, but all you can focus on is Xavier. His breath, his heartbeat, and the way he’s looking at you like you’re simultaneously the most fascinating challenge he’s ever encountered and the only prize he’ll ever want.
Outside, the rain has softened, its rhythm a lullaby against the windows. The storm has dwindled to a whisper, water sliding down glass in lazy streaks. When you press a kiss against his jaw, he hums, low and content.
The moment Xavier pulls you into his arms, the world feels quieter, steadier. He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling deeply before letting out a soft, contented hum. “Mm. Let’s stay like this.”
His fingers trace slow, idle patterns over your bare arms, tender now where they had been commanding before. You sigh into the crook of his neck, and he responds by holding you tighter, his legs tangling with yours as if to make sure you don’t slip away.
Xavier kisses you tenderly, his voice dropping into something softer, something meant only for you. “Got you,” he murmurs again, but this time there’s no teasing in it. Just quiet certainty. A kiss presses warm against your forehead, followed by words so quiet you almost miss them. “Until the day rain is no more.”
___
A/N: Thanks for reading. Like I mentioned in the other posts, the rainy days inspired me to write something for all the guys (I will post Caleb’s in a bit).
I had so much fun writing this one. Not only because Xavier gets a little freaky (he just does what he wants, it’s not my fault), but because I wanted to show how his intensity melts into tenderness. That mix is what makes him so compelling to me.
I hope you enjoyed it. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. They fuel my writing. :)
Been playing around taking pics, someday i'll learn how to use that Pro filter option 🤭 I almost got the loving/ yearning look for zayne but i'll have to settle for this
Goodluck Jasmines, may he come home in 10 pulls 🤞🤞
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