𝐚/𝐧: im obsessed with making these text blogs like oh my gosh. Also request are open and lmk if you want to be in my Ateez taglist!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of head and p in v

divider by Chrissiren

You playfully slap him in the face and pull at his hair sometimes. He secretly likes it so he tries his very best to piss you off.

In the summer house, he tried to cook breakfast once but it failed so horribly, he threw it all away before you woke up.

He has an extra signet ring in his drawer that he subconsciously reserved for you.

He plays the piano, his fingers trilling across the keys and the soft echoes within the chamber would make you drift to sleep on his shoulder.

Your clothes get mixed up often so, you end wearing his sweaters and even his socks.

He uses your hair ties and ribbons as bookmarks.

Once, as a child, you accidentally broke his wand and he was so mad he bit your arm til you cried.

After, he cried too.

He also didn’t know how to kiss so he would just open his mouth and press it against your cheek when he bid you goodbye. You thought it was the grossest thing ever.

He snitches on you when it serves him. Like when you stay out too late. Or he hides your things.

He bruises like a peach.

When you met with Theo and Blaise in Hogwarts, Draco would intercept and read all the notes they passed to you in class before he handed it over.

Pansy taught him how to braid your hair. He doesn’t get it right, still.

He nags you all the time for not sitting properly when you wear a skirt or a dress.

His favourite way of waking you up is jumping onto the bed and crushing you. He still does this.

Narcissa named him after a constellation, like her sisters. The Draco winds around Ursa Minor—the ‘Little Bear’—like a guardian.

“you brush your teeth?” you look down at the faded man, long hair sprawled out on the pillow. “yes- yes. cmon..put it on me please.” his beautiful eyes clouded from how high he was and how hungry he seemed to be.

“m’just making sure Cho.” 𐙚 plug!choso knew better than to eat your pussy with smoke on his tongue. he treated you like a princess, and he’d never let his princess get such lowly treatment. That went for the both of you: yourself and that pretty pearl between your legs.

“yes yes yes- fuck mmph..” he whined, piercing tongue instantly licking the sweetness between your legs. You gasp, your hands finding the headboard to steady yourself. 𐙚 plug!choso’s hands found their way around your thighs, pulling you down more to actually sit. He never got tired of eating your pussy, his favorite meal. “right there baby…good boy that’s it.” your hips find a steady rhythm to rock to. the ball of his piercing flicks against your clit. “m’fuck princess-“ 𐙚 plug!choso felt himself twitch in his pants.

He knew he had to be patient, though. You granted him enough grace to ride his face when high. “That’s it..” Soft moans escape past your lips, your head leaning back as your grip on the headrest tightened. Because something you didn’t do, was have sex with 𐙚 plug!choso while he was high.“If you make me cum I’ll ride you next, Cho.” You bit your lip, smug smirk on your face.

He lets out a cry, hands gripping your thighs tighter, tongue flicking against your sensitive bud faster. Dick twitching in his sweatpants, 𐙚 plug!choso started to think about you. How well you took him in everytime you had sex. How good and warm you felt around his big dick. How you called him a good boy when he did anything you told him to do. He fucked you just how you wanted, everytime. “M’gonna make you cum princess.” Wet dripping down his chin, he lost himself in you, Nose buried deep into your pussy, tongue slipping into your hole.

“M-mmm you’re talking with your mouth full Cho.” You moan at the whine he lets out, you could hear the muffled “sorry princess” from him afterwards.

clark’s tongue drags from your hole to your clit, licking up your juices before sucking on the aching pearl. he looks so pussydrunk, blue eyes fluttering closed with a desperate expression twisting his pretty face.

it makes you moan—which in turn makes him moan—as your hand grips clark’s hair, tugging his back down to your cunt.

he slurps up any of your juices that you give him, delightfully tonguing your hole with no abandon.

“gosh, honey—“ his hands grip tighter on the fat of your thighs, tugging you closer to his face. “you taste so good,” he moans between your thighs, one large hand palming at your breast.

at first hesitancy sat throughout your bones—what began as a simple make out with some egregious groping and fondling made clark drop to his knees within 4 minutes after a light bulb went off in his head; your skirt was easy to flip up.

your protests died silently after he lifted you on a random desk, hands greedily moving to pull your panties off and (put them in his pocket) away from your wet cunt.

call him a perv, sure, but he simply cannot see it that way when your back arches so prettily, thighs spreading wider for him. his hands move back to your legs, seating them over his shoulders. two thick fingers push into your fluttering pussy, groaning when he feels you clench around them.

“fuck,” he whines, “never wanna leave from here.”

without you ┊ with you (sfw) ┊ with you (nsfw) ┊18+┊ somnophilia ┊

the doorbell rung - sharp, tinkling melody breaking through your hazy thoughts. sighing, you got up from your seat at the dining table and walked over to the door. your house was dark, the only light in the room emanating from your glaring laptop screen.

removing the chain from the latch, you swung the door open, and in doing so, felt a heavy weight drop to the pit of your stomach at the sight in front.

him.

he stood in front of you, hand grasping a bouquet of dusty pink roses, beads of sweat on his anxious face mirroring the dewdrops-laden petals. he was biting his lip, eyebrows furrowed.

a plethora of questions rose in you, but you pushed them down. swallowing, you asked in the firmest voice you could manage, "what do you want?"

"i want to apologise", his strained voice came back, delicate eyes searching your face like you were fresh water placed in front of a parched man.

"i told you, i don't want to hear it."

he flinched at your words, fingers wrapped around the bouquet becoming tighter. a flash of annoyance passed through you.

"didn't i make it obvious when i left your stupid paragraphs on read?", you asked him with narrowed eyes.

"i know my place, baby. it's with you," he whispered immediately, as if reciting a script. his eyes bore into yours, almost pleading.

"don't call me baby," you snarled.

a beat of silence passed. his chest rose up and down, panting. he never broke eye contact for a minute.

"i'm not above begging."

"i know, you're pathetic."

before you could finish, his knees had hit the ground.