#wayzenni

pairing: reader x Xiaojun

Warnings: SMUT!

disclaimer: not my Gif!

You’re sprawled across Xiaojun’s couch like you own it, one leg thrown over the back, a bowl of popcorn dangerously balanced on your stomach. The TV is playing some trashy reality dating show, but you’re way more interested in complaining than actually watching.

“Okay, I swear,” you groan, tossing a popcorn kernel in the air and catching it with your mouth. “If I have to fake one more orgasm because some guy thinks jackhammering me into oblivion is sexy, I’m going to cry.”

Xiaojun snorts with laughter beside you, nearly choking on his drink. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”

You turn your head slowly to give him a look. “Excuse me?”

He grins smugly. “Hey, I’m just saying. If every guy sucks, maybe it’s a you problem.”

You chuckle darkly. “Wow. Thank you, therapist Xiaojun. What do you even know about good sex anyway? You blush when the characters on screen start making out.”

“I do not blush.”

“You blushed when I said the word ‘thighs’ last week.”

“That was contextual! And graphic!”

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. “Okay, okay. I’m just saying—you’re adorable and nerdy and all, but I can’t picture you being, you know... good in bed...or even having sex at all.”

He stills. “...Excuse me?”

“I mean, no offense,” you say, waving a hand, still giggling. “I’ve just never exactly looked at you and thought, ‘yeah, he probably wrecks girls.’ More like... ‘he probably folds laundry with aggressive focus.’”

That earns you a raised eyebrow. “Wow. I see how it is.”

You smirk, tossing another popcorn kernel into your mouth. “What, you gonna prove me wrong?"

He closes his laptop slowly. “Maybe I should.”

You pause mid-chew.

“What?”

Xiaojun turns his full body toward you, a glint in his eye that makes your stomach flip. “You think I’m just some harmless little nerd who doesn’t know how to make a girl come?”

You blink at him. “I mean… you do wear astronomy socks.”

He leans in. Not enough to touch you. Just enough to make your pulse spike. “I’ll bet you a hundred bucks I could give you the best night of your life.”

You laugh, but your voice falters. “Yeah right.”

He shrugs and leans back again. You watch him from the corner of your eyes while he grins to himself.

"You're bluffing." You say with a frown and toss some Popcorn at him.

He laughs and shrugs again. "I guess we'll never know."

You look at him, watch his movement and the way his hand is running through his hair.

"You're like...serious? Completely serious?"

“I’m serious.” His tone is lower now. Dead serious. “I bet all those guys you’ve been with? They never learned how to actually listen. I’d learn you.”

You should be joking back. You should be roasting him, calling him delusional or pulling a pillow over your head. But instead, you stare. Because your usually awkward best friend just dropped his voice and narrowed his eyes and suddenly looks like he’s two seconds from pinning you to the couch.

You swallow. “You really think you’d be that good?”

He smirks. “I know i am.”

Your throat is dry.

“Okay, nerd boy,” you say, standing to your feet slowly and cocking a brow. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He rises too—still calm, still quiet. But there’s something dangerous under the surface now. A tension you’ve never seen in him before.

He steps toward you, eyes never leaving yours.

“No turning back,” he murmurs.

“Didn’t plan on it.”

There’s a beat. Then—

He grabs your thighs, throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, and carries you down the hall without a single word while you yelp in surprise.

You're thrown onto his bed—not rough, but firm. You’re breathless from the shift. From nerdy, witty Xiaojun… to this Xiaojun. Commanding. Confident.

He climbs over you and hovers. “Last chance to back out.”

Your fingers tug his hoodie off.

No backing out.

His lips crash into yours. There’s nothing soft about it—he kisses like he’s been thinking about this. Like he’s had every detail mapped out in his head, waiting for the moment you finally let him show you.

His hands roam. Not awkward, not unsure—he knows exactly where to squeeze, where to drag his nails, how to thumb over the thin fabric covering your chest until you're arching up into him.

“When did you become so cocky?” you pant, fingers tangling in his hair.

He kisses down your neck, bites just enough to make you gasp. "You gonna act like, you don't like it?"

Clothes fall. His hands don’t just touch—they study you. Like he’s committing every sound, every reaction, to memory. He pulls down your leggings and bites his lip before he also slides down your panties.

He watches you with dark eyes while his fingers caress your thigh and come closer to your center. You want to squeeze your thighs together but he pulls them apart again.

He slides his fingers between your folds like he owns the space.

And when he finally pushes inside you—slow, deliberate—you both still.

“You okay?” he whispers, voice breathless.

You nod, nails raking down his back. “Don’t you dare go easy on me.”

His mouth curves into a smirk against your throat. “Good. Because I wasn’t planning to.”

He sets a rhythm that drives you insane. Not just rough—calculated. Slow thrusts that grind deep, dragging your body across the sheets. He talks the whole time, low and filthy:

“So quiet now… not laughing at me anymore, huh?” “You gonna admit I’m the best you’ve had?” “Bet they never made you this wet…”

And when you whimper, when your voice catches on his name, when your body shakes around him—he loses it.

“That’s it… fuck, you’re so perfect like this…”

He flips you and presses a hand between your shoulder blades and pushes you down until your ass arches up, exposed and waiting. You feel him kneel behind you, hands parting your thighs — and then, his tongue.

You scream. There was no other word.

Xiaojun devours you. No teasing, no shyness — he licks and sucks like a man on a mission. His tongue swirls, circles, fucks into you as two fingers join the rhythm, pumping inside with precision. Every nerve in your body is lit, burning.

You are sobbing his name by the time he stops.

But he isn't done.

He stands, positioning himself behind you, and pushs inside with one powerful, fluid motion. You gasp, breath stolen by the stretch, the pressure, the way he fills you completely.

“Fuck,” he groans into your shoulder. “You’re so tight, so wet…”

He pulls out almost entirely—then slams back in.

You cry out.

And again. And again.

He grabs your arms, pulling them behind your back with one hand, pinning you while he pounds into you with relentless rhythm. You are unraveling, drooling against the cushion, unable to think or speak or breathe.

“You think I’m not wild?” he growls in your ear. “You think I don’t know how to fuck a girl right?”

You shook your head wildly, sobbing out his name.

“You talk all that shit,” he says, thrusting deep, “but you’re the one falling apart.”

He let go of your arms, flipping you onto your back, spreading your legs wide, and plunges back in. Your cries fill the room.

You claw at his shoulders, your second orgasm already building, body hypersensitive and writhing beneath him.

He kisses you — hard and filthy — as you come again, screaming into his mouth.

Xiaojuns hips stutter. His breath hitches. And then he groans low in his chest, holding you still as he spills inside you.

You lay there, legs trembling, chest heaving, completely wrecked.

Your skin is flushed, glowing with sweat, and your thighs are slick and trembling where you are still spread open beneath him. Your hair cling to your damp face, and your lips are kiss-bruised and parted around shallow, shaky breaths.

Xiaojun is still inside you.

He doesn't move for over a minute. Just rests on his forearms, forehead pressed to yours , his weight comforting and heavy, heartbeat thudding against your ribs.

And then—

He pulls out.

You whimper immediately, missing the warmth, the stretch, the weight of him. You instinctively close your legs, trying to catch your breath—

But he stops you.

“Ah,” he murmurs, grabbing your thighs. “I didn’t say you could close those.”

You blink up at him, dazed. “Are you kidding me?”

He sits back on his knees, reaching down, and gently taps the inside of your thigh with two fingers.

“Wider.”

“You just came.”

“So?”

Your stomach flips.

“Xiaojun,” you breath, “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he says simply. “And you will.”

Before you can argue, he reachs down and drags his fingers through the mess between your legs, then slowly pushs two of them back inside.

You cry out — hips twitching, legs kicking reflexively.

“You’re so fucking sensitive,” he mutters, watching you squirm. “But your body still wants more. You’re already clenching.”

“X-Xiaojun”

He leans down and presses a kiss to your knee. Then the inside of your thigh. Then higher. And higher still.

By the time his mouth is on you again, you are already shaking.

He licks slow, deliberate circles over your clit while his fingers curl just right. He doesn't need to go fast now. He knows your body. Knows every flicker, every breath, every tremble.

“You’re gonna give me one more,” he says softly. “I want to feel you come on my tongue.”

Your hands reach down instinctively, fingers tangling in his hair, trying to both push him away and pull him closer.

" I can’t—fuck—fuck, it’s too much—”

“I know,” he says between licks. “Let it happen anyway.”

And you do.

The orgasm rolls over you like fire. Your entire body tenses, bowes, then collapses into the mattress like a ragdoll. You sob his name, thighs trying to close around his head—he lets them. Doesn't stop. Kissing you through it.

When he finally pulls back, his mouth and chin are slick, eyes dark and reverent as he looks at you.

You are boneless. Your eyes half-lidded. Your voice nothing more than a whisper.

“I’m... I can’t feel my legs.”

Xiaojun chuckled softly. Then stands up.

Yo watch through hazy vision as he walks to the bathroom. The sound of running water echoes back — a towel being soaked, wrung out.

He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth and kneels beside you, wiping gently between your thighs, slow and attentive.

“You okay?” he asks, brushing damp strands of hair off your face.

You nod. Barely.

“That was… insane. You are insane,” you whisper.

He smiles, soft now. “You’re insane. For thinking I wouldn’t know how to treat you right.”

Your chest swells with something strange—something tender.

You reach for his hand and pull him down beside you, curling against his side.

“You are right,”you murmur, voice sleepy. “I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

“I know,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist. “That’s why I had to show you.”

You bury your face in his shoulder and grin.

Then whisper, “...Do you always go this hard when you’re proving a point?”

Xiaojun turns to you, and smirks.

“Only when I really want to be taken seriously.”

The room is silent. Except for your breathing. And his heartbeat against your back.

“…Holy shit,” you mumble.

He chuckles softly, lips brushing your shoulder. “Still think I’m just the cute nerd?”

You don’t answer.

You can’t.

Genre: The majority is fluff, there's quite a lot of smut tho...

For: Me and your benefits 💜

Groups: Mostly Ateez as it's the group I find the most on here, some txt, some Enhypen, some WayV, some Oneus.

A/N: I will continue adding onto this as I read more fics, this list will never really be complete unless if I quit Tumblr and I don't think that'll happen anytime soon 😂

Some of my favorite fictions or posts I've seen rn :)

Some WayV fan art of a design I would like to embroider one day… eventually. The birth flowers of the members! Chose flowers/colors I had floss for. Might change the gladiolus to pink, still on the fence there!

From right to left:

Carnation - January, Kun

Morning Glory - September, Hendery

Violet - February, Ten

Marigold - October, YangYang