#mattheodore x reader

[leeny-leens]

When I bleed, its not blood but devotion

Pairing: poly!Mattheodore x f!Reader

Summary: You get into a fight and end up in the hospital wing, as is expected. The fight isn’t the problem, it's explaining the reason you decked that moron in the first place to one disappointed Theodore Nott and a gleefully smug Mattheo Riddle.

Warnings: mentions of a fight, description of injuries (not too detailed), cursing, threats of murder and violence, threats of torture, a few sexual innuendos here and there, things get a bit spicy in the last part but nothing much

Content: established poly relationship, Reader is sassy, Theodore being the brain and responsible person in the relationship, Theodore also resorting to Italian because his lovers are dumbasses, Mattheo being am endorser of violence, flustered Theo, fluffy humour, dramatic MattyReader duo

WC: 3.72k

Translations: Bella - beautiful | caro - dear | Porca miseria, perché è sempre così con voi pagliacci? - Holy shit, why is it always like this with you clowns? | stronzi - fuckers | Smettila di iniziare litigi - stop starting fights

AN: took a bit to get this done because its my first time writing a poly relationship but i cant stop thinking about Mattheodore with their girl, lmk what you think 🤍

The hospital wing is quiet, save for the whirring of enchanted apparatuses and Madame Pomfrey’s quiet murmuring. It’s not so bad, you think yourself, having the whole place to yourself. The bed you’re assigned to is right across the window, so you get to watch first years fall off their brooms with glee. Really, you struck gold with being here; everyone else is stuck in their respective classes or studying in the library, enduring the stifling heat and moisture, while you get to laze about in here with the cooling spells keeping the oncoming spring heat out. It’s of course totally irrelevant to mention that you can barely move without the dull thumping of pain in your sides restricting your movements, or breathe without struggling because of your busted nose.

A small price to pay for the luxurious skipping opportunity, you decide, and you already plan what kind of excuses you’ll throw around when you sneak to your table later at dinner. You’d rather not be subjected to your friends’ fussing, or worse, your boyfriends’ lectures and worrisome nature. They simply can’t find out you got into a fight and ended up in the hospital wing, you decide grimly, already scheming who to threaten and silence, lest rumours about your little altercation reach their ears.

Much to your dismay however, your little peaceful hideout is rudely infiltrated by the slam of the big double doors, half startling you off the bed. At the open doors, you spot the disheveled form of Mattheo Riddle, his messy hair half sticking to his sweaty forehead as he frantically surveys the room in search of something, or rather someone. Behind him, you can make out Theodore’s figure running down the hall, presumably in an attempt to catch up to him, and you can almost imagine his frustrated huff when Mattheo spots you and immediately darts off to your bed.

You brace yourself for the inevitable collision with the speed at which Mattheo is running towards you, squeezing your eyes tightly so you at least won’t futilely attempt to escape, but the impact never hits. A strangled noise catches your attention and so you crack one eye open, gasping at the comical sight. Theodore somehow managed to catch up to Mattheo, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, much like a mother kitten would with its rowdy children, and is now holding him back while he kicks and swats to be freed.

The sight truly is amusing, a flurry of giggles escaping you as you watch Mattheo struggle in his boyfriend’s grasp, kicking and cursing to be let go. The action however, brings you immediate pain and regret, the potions Poppy pumped you full with still not in enough effect to numb the pain.

Your pained whimper immediately has your two boys alarmed, and in his worry, Theo releases Mattheo. The latter is by your side in seconds, his brows furrowed and his pretty brown eyes darkened by the anxiety your state must be causing him.

“What happened?” He asks, hands hovering unsurely by your side. It must take a lot of restraint for him to touch you, because Mattheo never passes up an opportunity to cling to you, whether for his own pleasure or to comfort you. Theo sighs, ruffling the other boy’s hair before yanking him away from you.

“Give her some space,” he quips dryly, completely ignoring Mattheo’s protests. He’s more composed than his other third, and if you didn’t know him so well, he could’ve almost fooled you into thinking he didn’t really care about the whole ordeal. But there are those little telltale signs, like the way his robes are crooked, very obviously haphazardly thrown over, or the way his ears are ever so slightly red from worry. His hands continually twitch with the need for action by his side, and his blue eyes never once leave your injured form on the bed, taking in every single gush and bandage, cataloging them away for when he would help you take care of them, whether you wanted to or not.

He rounds the bed, settling on the other side before gently placing his hand on your knee, his thumb tracing soothing circles in the skin.

“What trouble did you get into now, bella?” He muses exasperated. Mattheo makes a half offended noise, taking his wand out and muttering a spell that has your bed extending to accommodate three people on one bed. Immediately, he props himself on your left side, his fingers ghosting over your forehead. He traces along the uninjured spots of your face, his touch lighter than a feather, dutifully keeping from any places that might hurt. Countless fights have rendered him somewhat a professional in understanding pain, the knowledge now handy in pouring his affection as carefully as possible.

Their sudden appearance is a bit overwhelming, the intensity of their gaze, blue and brown eyes that never stray from your face, rendering you speechless. Even if you wanted to explain the situation —which you really don’t want too—, you couldn’t. The words get stuck in your throat, leaving you to open and close your mouth like a desperate fish out of the water.

Still, they wait with never ending patience, their hands offering soothing comfort as they silently coax you into talking to them, drawing you out of your defensive shell with not a speck of accusation or judgment.

“I got into a fight,” you finally manage to mumble, a failed attempt at sounding casual. It isn’t a big deal, at least to you, but the two of them clearly don’t share the sentiment. Mattheo's posture immediately stiffens, his jaw tensing with hot red anger. “Names,” he almost barks, “give me names right fucking now.” His reaction is dramatic, too much and you turn to the responsible one between you three, hoping Theo might be able to help you talk Mattheo into calming down. Your hopes are cruelly crushed into nothing, because Theo radiates pure bloodlust, on par with Mattheo’s rage, his hand grasping the bed sheets so tightly you can barely tell his knuckles from the white fabric apart.

“It’s no big deal,” you huff, leaning forward to flick the both of them on the forehead. The action seems to snap them out of their murderous thoughts, the both of them throwing you offended looks as they rub the sore spot. “Seriously, Poppy said it looks worse than it actually is.”

On cue, the matron of the ward steps out of her office, her eyes furrowing disapprovingly at the sight of the three of you huddled on the bed, but she is used to this by now from all the times you stuck around when either one of you got hurt. She lets it go ever so graciously, stepping closer and performs spell-work over you that engulfs your body in a silver shimmer. Theodore watches with utmost attention, as if attempting to read the matron’s mind and willing the magic to heal you faster. Mattheo watches you instead, intensely observing any indicators of pain and only relaxes when the magic leaves you visibly more relaxed than before.

“She should be all good to go in a few hours,” Poppy declares, “some bruising and swelling, a busted nose that will heal quickly and two cracked ribs that we fixed earlier.” With a quiet accio she instantly has three vials floating near her, all which she hands to Theodore with such naturalness, not sparing you a second glance, it kind of leaves you baffled.

“Have her take this three times a day,” she points to the vial with acid green liquid, “and apply those on the areas that hurt.” Theodore stows the vials in his pockets, nodding because this isn’t his first rodeo as the caretaker in charge.

With one last disapproving glance, she turns on her heel and disappears back into her office, not before sparing you a theatrical warning. “Behave yourselves and don’t cause a ruckus,” she scolds, the door shutting behind her with a soft clack.

You slump into the bed, pulling your lovers down and manoeuvre your limbs in a way that won’t cause any prolonged numbness. The three of you are experts by now at this, having had adequate time since practically second year, to learn which positions were best for injured cuddles. The knowledge only ran deeper after your tumultuous fifth year, which you spent the better part of the year dating on and off in every combination known to mankind until you came to the conclusion that you could simply just all date each other without having to choose.

With practiced ease, Theo wraps his arms around you, carefully avoiding the injured and bandaged areas. His legs tangle with yours, joined by Mattheo's long limbs as the latter reaches across your stomach to intertwine his fingers with Theo’s. His face nuzzles into your neck, pressing kisses into your skin as he mumbles gibberish strings of sentences you can barley make out, but you're fairly certain it's a detailed rundown of how he plans to torture everyone who contributed to your pain. The warmth of their bodies is comforting and familiar, like coming home after an exhausting day and wrapping yourself in a warm blanket.

Theo is tracing your waist when he finally speaks up, his face schooled into a neutral expression.

“So,” he says casually, “care to explain the details of your adventure?”

You've dreaded this question long before he asked it, probably as soon as you'd actually gotten into the fight. But it's inevitable, and you know there's no escaping Theo, even if you wanted too. If you don't fess up now, he will find a way to get it out of someone else. And Merlin help you and every poor bloke involved in this should Theo actually have to resort to getting his information on his own.

As if equipped with some high grade legilimency, Mattheo nudges you with his face gently. “Speak now or forever hold your peace, princess,” he warns jokingly, though the both of you know what it really means. Being friends with Theodore Nott for seven years and dating him for two of those has unfortunately subjected the both of you to his incredibly stubborn and merciless nature —in a variety of settings, some more well liked than others, if you catch the drift— which unfortunately also means that you know you're not leaving this bed until he gets a satisfactory answer, or until he tortures you enough to get his fill.

Besides, it's hard to deny him anything when his fingers are tracing idle shapes on your skin, the touch both maddening and soothing at once. And it's especially hard to resist becoming putty in his hands when he stares at you with those big blue eyes, dark like the deepest corner of the ocean and filled with unwavering devotion that knows no bounds.

You resign to yourself to your fate, making yourself more comfortable by tangling one hand into Mattheo’s hair for the sake of nervous fidgeting and lean more into Theodore as you begin to explain.

“I was going from my Potions class to Herbeology, minding my own business,” Mattheo snorts, as if the notion of you minding your own business is of great amusement before Theo digs his nails into his palm, giving him a stern look that roughly translates into Shut the fuck up and let her talk.

“As I was saying,” you continue with a huff, “I was minding my own business like I would on any perfectly normal Tuesday, when I came to the belief that my ears must deceive me! In the courtyard, a bunch of Gryffinidiots were huddled together, lounging about as if they owned the world, loudly complaining and boasting about shit no one cares about.”

You hope this would be enough of an explanation, not in the mood to elaborate on the actual reason you fought one of the morons in the courtyard, but alas, Theo does not give in. He stares at you with furrowed eyebrows, clearly attempting to piece together what would warrant a fight just because a few Gryffindor were being annoying. Silently, he beckons you to continue and you groan with a bit more theatrics than needed, giving Mattheo’s curls a few tugs that cause a few noises of bliss.

“Anyways, I was going to ignore them, especially because the moment they saw me they started making comments trying to rile me up,” you stare at Theo, batting your eyes at him innocently when he very clearly questions your bull. “Honest! I was trying to be peaceful because I know you can’t stand it when Matty and I start fights,” you added, choosing to dignify Mattheo’s snort with a jab into his ribs.

A short moment of silence stretches between you, with you trying to think your next words over carefully in order to minimise the lecture potential that will absolutely follow suit. After deciding that really, theres no way to put this without receiving at least a heavy disappointed stare, you sigh and finally confess.

“The whole ignoring thing was going pretty well too, until one of the loud mouths had the absolute audacity to insult Mattheo, calling him a psychotic piece of shit with a filthy soul” the stunned silence lasts for exactly three seconds before Mattheo sits up like he was struck by lightning, the look of bewilderment on his face slowly morphing into a shit eating grin.

“Oh my god,” he says, his voice sounding just a bit maniacal as he speaks. “You got into a fight to defend me?” By the way he says it, you might’ve as well proposed to him, it probably would’ve elicited the same reaction. Theo groans at the his boyfriends display of drama, reaching over to swat his arms.

“Don’t encourage her, caro,” he warns, but Mattheo doesn’t give two shits. He jumps up from the bed, pacing around like a caged animal and turns to look at you with a grin from ear to ear.

“Oh my god I’m so proud of you princess.”

“Don’t be proud of her, this isn't the time to encourage getting into fights for fucks sake!”

“First of all, I’m always proud of our girl,” Mattheo replies, winking at you, “second of all my love, I’ll always encourage getting into fights, that’s sort of my whole thing, no?” You try to stifle your giggles, you really do, but Theo looks like he aged 20 years just by listening to Mattheo talk and really, how can you resist when the boy breaks into an italian tangent about god knows what.

“Porca miseria, perché è sempre così con voi pagliacci?*” he curses, sitting up to run his hands over his face. You’re not exactly sure what he just said, but you think he might be either confessing his love or cursing the both of you.

Mattheo snorts, rounding the bed to stand in front of Theo and cradles his face in his hands with a smirk. “It’s always this way with us because we are, as you stated, clowns,” the words register in your mind and your offence is immediate. You pull yourself to sit up, noting that the pain has lessened from a sharp ache into just a dull echo, and hit Theo’s shoulder with a scandalised gasp.

“Theodore Niccolo Nott , I am not a clown, how dare you?” He glances at you, expression flat save for the twitch in the corner of his mouth and the fucker shrugs, like the insult is a universal fact he stands by.

You and Mattheo exchange looks, an entire conversation between your eyes before you begin to lament your shared woes in sync.

“Oh woe is me, my own boyfriend thinks I’m a clown,” you cry out, clutching your chest like you’d just been stabbed and shot.

“Woe is me indeed,” Mattheo adds, one of his hands to his forehead while the other squished Theo’s face tightly. The Italian tries to swat away Mattheo’s hand, but it doesn’t hold any real vigour. He leans into the touch more than anything, a small content smile on his face that he most definitely will deny should you point it out.

“Well how is it my fault if you two stronzi* are always going around beim morons? Smettila di iniziare litigi,* for fucks sake!”

Mattheo and you make eye contact, the both of you biting your lips as Theodore goes on and on in a mixture between Italian and English, lecturing you for your idiocies and your behaviour. At a certain point, he even stands up and pushes Mattheo to sit beside you, pacing back and forth as he gestures wildly with his hands.

Mattheo and you nod solemnly, not catching a single word he says and instead focusing on how absolutely hot he sounds scolding you like that. Ten minutes into his lecture, he finally realises the both of you aren't pay in attention, too busy staring at his lips and face with a star struck expression.

“Oh, mio dio*, you didn't hear a single thing I said, did you?” He asks, crossing his arms while staring at you like two children that just got caught stealing cookies from a jar. You and Mattheo avoid his gaze expertly, mumbling half assed excuses he definitely won’t believe, before risking a glance in his direction. To your absolute dismay, you’re confronted with his disappointed look, his mouth pressed into a thin line, worry lines deeply etched into his handsome face and eyes darkened by the sheer volume of disappointment.

“Don’t look at me like this,” Mattheo defends weakly, “I’m not the one that landed myself a trip to the hospital wing!” It’ truly marvellous what a man will do when facing the disappointment of his boyfriend, going as far as to sell out his girlfriend to save his own skin like a coward. You shove Mattheo roughly, hissing strings of curses about his betrayal under your breath.

“Yeah, but you’re condoning it and just as bad,” Theo quips back, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the two of you fighting. Immediately, you cease all movement and sit calmly, unable to bear the guilt that washes over you.

“You talk as if you wouldn’t do the same,” you mumble, gaining some confidence in your stance when Mattheo nods eagerly.

“Yeah,” he joins in, “you’d never let it slide if someone talked shit about me or her!”

Theo looks at the two of you like you’re really, really stupid and he can’t decide if he wants to slap you, kiss you or fuck you. You’d take all three, any day any time, in that very order, but that’s beside the point.

“Yeah, but have you ever seen me get in a fight?” He waits for an answer he knows won’t come, because Theodore Nott is above petty fights. Oh no, he doesn’t do barbaric altercations. He schemes in the dark, orchestrates quietly in the shadows to plan a swift and miserable death in every category, be it social, mental, physical or elsewhere.

If Mattheo resorts to violence, you to words and magic, then Theo resorts to dirty schemes that will leave people questioning their actions for the rest of their lives. He wasn’t one for temporary consequences, he likes to leave a mark, in more ways than one.

“Next time, you’ll be more careful, capice*?” He asks, letting out a long and weary sigh at the sight of you taking the scolding with no more protests. You nod dutifully, fully knowing that you will in fact not be more careful if it means you can defend your boys from slander. Theo seems to read your mind, pinching the bridge of his nose with a pained expression, which instantly evaporates when Mattheo pulls him down to his level to press a kiss onto his mouth.

The kiss is sudden and takes both you and Theo by surprise, but unlike him, you instantly acclimate to the display and smirk gleefully when you watch his expression shift as soon as Mattheo pulls away from him. His face is red, eyes blown wide and his lips are slightly bruised from the impact and the rough way he’s handled; just like Mattheo likes him.

Mattheo turns to you, a cheeky grin on his face that spells his intentions clear as day. Still, you’re quick to jump into action, pulling him to you and joining your lips into a fervent kiss. His hands hold the side of your face with such gentleness; a stark contrast to how he bites and nibs at your lips roughly. You meet his passion with an intensity of your own, holding the back of his neck firmly as your other hands tugs and pulls on his hair. Each time, he lets out sounds of pure pleasure that you swallow with your own mouth, taking the chance to slide your tongue into his mouth.

With too much reluctance, you part away, faces flushed and lips swollen. Theodore watches intensely, mouth slightly apart like always when he watches you kiss and touch.

He clears his throat, adjusting his stance as his eyes darts between the two of you and the exit of the hospital wing.

“I’ll go ask Poppy if you can go,” he presses, all but sprinting to the matrons office, leaving you and Mattheo to giggle about the whole ordeal. You let your head fall onto his shoulder, fondly nuzzling against his side and revelling in the soft and careful touches as the quiet conversation from Poppy’s office drifts to the both of you. You close your eyes with a smile, just for a moment, and you think it might not be so bad to bleed, if only those two stick by your side every time.

[nottswitch]

꒰ bassist!reader helps drummer!mattheo and lead singer!theo unwind after a show ꒱

cw: 18+ mdni, drug use (weed), oral threesome, blowjob turned rough, throat bulge, gagging, some spitting, masturbation (m receiving), mutual masturbation (m x m), bi mattheodore, praise, cursing

a/n: finally writing for this au. couldn’t get this out of my head for a while now, and it’s also my first time properly writing a threesome of any kind, so hopefully you enjoy <3

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lorenzo went off somewhere again – probably to the tour bus to have fun with another groupie. you were just a little miffed about that, because you wanted to get some, enzo was the first to volunteer before the other two could get a word in, and now he was nowhere to be seen. you couldn’t be too mad at him, though – he’d always been a lighthead, in more ways than one.

you walked into your shared dressing room and were immediately greeted by a sight that wasn’t a surprise, yet never failed to amuse you. theo and mattheo were sprawled on the couch next to each other, passing a joint between them. mattheo was completely naked and theo only had his concert tank top on – a tight and cropped little black thing that perfectly showed off the lean muscles of his torso. their legs were spread, mattheo’s right one thrown over theo’s left thigh, and their hands were on each other’s cocks.

they lazily jerked each other off, unhurried and completely relaxed, the weed seemingly taking effect by that point. once the door behind you closed, both of them looked at you with cheeky, knowing smirks on their faces. theo blew out a small whiff of smoke and put out the joint against the table next to the couch, leaning further back into the plush surface.

"baaaaby," mattheo drawled, giving you a stupidly adorable grin and extending an arm towards you, making a grabby hand in your direction. you chuckled, shaking your head, and made a few slow steps towards the boys. they didn’t even think of stopping what they were doing, their hands still moving up and down on each other’s hard and, as you could notice under the dim lighting of the room, dripping cocks. you knew that they got especially horny under the influence, which amused you even more, but also gave you a perfect idea.

without a word, you knelt on the floor in front of them, and they perked up a bit, though their poses were still as relaxed as ever. they exchanged a look and simultaneously dropped their hands from their cocks. mattheo put his by his sides on the couch, and theo rested one on his stomach, the other one ending up on mattheo’s thigh. both of them gazed at you with as much hunger as their glassy eyes and widened pupils allowed; theo’s lips were parted, and mattheo was wetting his, taking shallow breaths through his mouth.

"cazzo, principessa… come sei dolce," theo murmured, a content smile quirking up his lips as your hands started kneading their thighs, approaching their aching cocks inch by inch. mattheo hummed in agreement, all of you having gotten used to theo’s italian by now and even starting to understand some stuff.

"you’re dolce," you answered, a teasing lilt to your voice, and theo chuckled in response, undoubtedly at your accent. his chuckle stuttered, turning into a low moan as your hands finally wrapped around their lengths, mattheo’s grunt joining him with more volume.

you didn’t spend too much time jerking them off since they did a pretty good job on that themselves – by the amount of precum leaking from their tips you could tell it wouldn’t take them too long to cum, and you wanted a taste before that happened. you scooted a bit to the right, mattheo being the first whose cock ended up in your mouth. your tongue swirled around, gathering his slickness, and you pulled away enough to spit it back, your fingers spreading the liquid along his entire length before diving back in.

"fuck," he breathed out, his hand loosely clutching the edge of the couch as his half-lidded eyes roamed over your face, fixated on your lips wrapped around him in the most enticing way. slowly, you started sucking, hollowing out your cheeks to provide more friction, while stroking theo’s dick at the same time. both of them were moaning above you, their hips twitching up every other second, and theo still had some sense in his hazy mind to caress mattheo’s thigh, which only made the latter’s pleasure more intense.

a couple of minutes later, when you started feeling theo getting restless, the movements of his hips growing a bit more sloppy, you pulled away from mattheo. he barely noticed, too lost in the world of bliss, especially since the stimulation never stopped, your hand coming in to take the place of your lips. you switched to the other side, finally taking theo’s cock into your mouth, which made him groan and impatiently grab your hair. you giggled but decided not to tease, since it was painfully obvious just how eager he was. you head started bobbing up and down as you sucked theo off, the sounds getting wetter and wetter from the amount of drool you produced due to theo being deliciously big. you choked a bit when his tip slipped into your throat, but you quickly adjusted – you were pretty used to his size already.

when you felt his cock starting to throb, you took it as a sign of him getting close, which prompted you to switch to mattheo again. a low, needy growl rumbled in his chest as he caught the sight of your pretty lips wrapped around him, his hips instantly rutting up, pushing his entire length right down your throat. you gagged again as you felt his thick cock stretching out your walls, and you were pretty sure that if you placed a hand on your throat, you’d feel his tip grinding against it from the inside. mattheo was very clearly impatient, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair as he started shoving you up and down. he had always had a thing for throatfucking, and you didn’t mind at all, eagerly allowing him to use you as a means to get off.

theo was watching the scene through his thick eyelashes, moaning louder from time to time when your hand squeezed him just a bit tighter. when mattheo started getting close, he immediately caught that. without a word, his head turned to the side, and his hand made its way up mattheo’s body to the back of his head. theo pulled him into a messy kiss, his fingers getting tangled in mattheo’s curls, both of them groaning against each other’s lips. when you looked up, met by the sight of your boys passionately making out, you felt the heat that had been building up in your stomach increase tenfold, and you knew right that moment that you had to make them finish as soon as possible to take care of your needs too. you picked up the pace under mattheo’s insistent hand, and soon, he was loudly panting against theo, string after string of his cum releasing into your mouth.

you quickly lapped up the remnants and switched to theo, who was already on the very edge. as your lips closed around him, his hips pushed up, and you knew you’d be hoarse as hell the next day when his tip roughly hit the back of your throat. theo desperately licked into mattheo’s mouth, the latter’s jaw still hanging slack as he came down from his high, and in a matter of seconds, his cum was also dripping down your throat, hot and slightly bitter from his constant smoking.

you were breathless when you pulled away, and your throat was already starting to hurt, but a smile spread on your face at the sight of the guys on the couch. they were now lazily and sloppily making out, catching their own breaths after their intense orgasms. theo’s hand was carding through mattheo’s hair, making him let out quiet little moans into theo’s mouth, while mattheo’s hand cradled the other boy’s cheek, his thumb rubbing soft circles on the flushed skin. they were adorable like that, and truthfully, you could watch them for hours. but you still had your arousal unattended to. both of them shifted their attention when you cleared your throat, identical smirks appearing on their lips when they saw your raised eyebrow. you definitely weren’t leaving the dressing room any time soon.

au. more.

[wrting-w-luv]

Mattheodore x reader Dating Headcannons my loves

-I love this poly idea more than life itself, but I want to get one thing straight. THE BOYS KISS!! I see so many Fics and its just Theo and Mattheo liking reader. Nooo Theo and Mattheo have kissed for ‘practice’ before and they LIKED IT, but they were very very confused as to why.

-Now how did you get in this situation cause many different scenarios could lead to this relationship.

Theo and Mattheo had taken a lot of time and hits to the ego and realized that they did like each other. A while into their little secret relationship they express liking you also. They most likely already sleep with women, so they didn't seem ‘strange’ to others, but this was different. They liked you and it took a lot of their own types of flirting, even if it was confusing why they had so much more attention on you. But most likely they ask you when you're alone after they explain the relationship. In this you say yes YIPPEE!!!

You and whichever boy is together, and you both talk and both understand that you like the other boy. And it pretty much ends up talking in their dorm wondering if the boy would agree. And just your luck he does YIPPEE!

-Now you're in a relationship with Theodore Nott and Mattheo. Congratulations, get ready to be spoiled and have so much secondhand smoke it will hurt. That's a joke since they deliberately make sure to never blow smoke in your face, well Mattheo will as a joke unless you express you don't like it. Theodore would never since he doesn't want to hurt your pretty little lungs. If you already smoke then who cares and you all share a cig together, but Theo is a hypocrite and will make a slide at that fact.

-Affection is never short in this relationship and both boys would be different in the poly relationship then they would be with one person. I personally see Mattheo as such a brat in any relationship, but when he can annoy Theo it gets 5x worse. When you're in public not much affection is shown, I mean to everyone else it looks like the boys have favoritism towards you, but they don't actually put a public label even if there is gossip. But in public or in any private space that distance is closed. Literally.

-Mattheo is the worst about it always laying on you or Theo just wanting to feel safe being close to the people he trusts and with Theo added to the mix it's just another person he deeply trusts. Thats makes the relationship much better and healthier. Well as healthy as they can be with the amount of trauma those bastards have.

-Now Theo is much more chill and suave he shows both0 f you love and deals with Mattheo's bursts of anger and Mattheo deals with Theos unless your good with that sort of thing. But on a quick side part Theo is much less quick to anger than Mattheo. On a bad day someone can look at him wrong and all he'll is let loose, and blood is on someone's knuckles and detention is delt for the 100th time that month. It's truly impressive and the teachers (McGonigal's and snape) have a bet going to see how many fights Mattheo and Theo can get into a month. Theo's highest was 5 and Mattheo's was 15. But your always there to clean them up… unless you fight then you're getting pushed out of the way so the two can deal with it

-Theodores love is again very stoic and with the two of you it's very chilled and mellowed out. Casually watching as you and Mattheo argue about something stupid, most likely poking at you both trying to get you started up again. Which if you're usually a shy, soft-spoken person then they definitely find it hot. But that's for another day my friends.

-Now Theodore I would take is very smart and academically intelligent even if the language barrier sometimes stumps him. But this is where you come in, he knows Mattheo with ruthlessly dog on him for not remembering a work on the spot, but you will to. Then help him figure out the word which he appreciates. And OfCourse he helps you with schoolwork and then you both have to help Mattheo actually sit down and do work. I believe Mattheo knows what he's doing but he is too restless to sit down and focus.

-Also nicknames! There's a hundred of him used between everyone in the group.

- For Theodore: Theo, Teddy, Cucciolo, My love, sexy, lovely

-For Mattheo: once again Cucciolo, Pretty Boy, Pain in my ass, baby, babes

-For You: (insert most basic Italian nicknames), Baby, Sweetheart, Sweetie, Pretty girl, My love

-Dates are confusing for most but all the three of you have to do is hang out or go for a walk. A kiss here and there that you all three share.

-And I must stress Mattheo and Theodore kiss to! I'm tired of seeing mattheodore x reader and the two arnt being gay together! It's the whole point of the ship!

-how they kiss will defiantly be in the NSFW version of this -Wink- -Wink-

<Its truly a loving and entertaining relationship and you love it other very much>

Bottom divider Cred: @cursed-carmine

Author's note: Thank you so much for the support on my first fic! Im gonna try and post every now and then cause i actually really enjoy this, and i enjoy seeing people like my takes on these characters! Also should i do NSFW for the charcters I do?

Love you all <3

[wolfies-writings]

Three’s company

Author’s notes: I’m going to be a lil bad at this for a while, I haven’t written in forever. Hopefully you guys like my little debut into writing for the Slytherin boys.

Warnings: none really, just fluff, mildddd innuendo from Mattheo briefly but nothing happens. Oh, also google translated Italian

1562 words

Theo was lounging in his boyfriend’s bed, leaned back against the headboard and idly reading a book. Mattheo was sketching in his journal, and given the amount of glancing between the book and Theo he was doing, the Italian was likely his subject. They both looked up when the door to their shared dorm opened, and a weary looking Hufflepuff in messy robes walked in.

“Amore nostra, our love you look tired…” Theo noted softly, closing his book and getting up from Mattheo’s side to come over to you.

You sighed, and were trying to get your stupid robes off. In your rush, it was a challenge, and only irritated you further. The sleeve caught, keeping you stuck as you fought to rid yourself of it. Just one thing after another today, endless frustrations, and this felt like yet another straw on a camel’s back. “This goddamn thing, swear to Merlin…” You muttered under your breath.

Theo tutted quietly in that soothing way of his. His hands came up and pushed the robe off your shoulders, bunching it up and tossing it to the side. He scooped up your hands in his own, squeezing them to hold you still for a few moments. Once satisfied, he gently grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close. You let your head fall forward and thump against his chest, inhaling his scent from his sweater. Some of the tension slowly began to ease in the comfort of his arms. “Where’ve you been, out later than usual like this?” He asked.

“Was late to class because I helped a lost new transfer, and naturally Snape refused to let me explain. Got detention and had to clean up my team’s quidditch gear. You wouldn’t believe how messy the Hufflepuff players are…” You sighed again and nuzzled closer into Theo’s chest. A scoff was heard from the bed where Mattheo still laid.

“Typical Snape, never cutting any of us a break. Maybe if he’d take the giant stick out of his as-” Mattheo started before Theo cut him off.

“Mattheo, hush, not what they need right now.” He turned back to you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Mattheo stood and also ambled over, loosely wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips found your skin as he nuzzled into your neck. You shivered as his lips and warm breath grazed your skin, leaning further into Theo.

“Matty, you know my neck’s sensitive…” You murmured with a giggle, halfway trying to squirm away from the sensations into Theo’s arms. Both he and Theodore loved to lavish attention on your neck, one of the several sensitive spots on you that were perfect for teasing. You squeaked in mild surprise as Mattheo’s teeth nipped gently at your skin where your neck met your shoulder. His devilish smirk was easily felt, pressed right up against your skin.

“Oh, but that’s why it’s one of my favorite spots to kiss you, baby. Love how responsive you always are for us…” He purred, soothing the nip of his teeth with another kiss, a little firmer than the last. Theo allowed you to hide your face in his chest, and he chuckled as he rested his chin on top of your head. His hands wandered under your shirt, not greedily, but his touch still also made you shiver. These two knew exactly how to press your buttons and play you like a fiddle to a tune of their choosing. It was definitely one of your favorite things about them, how well they knew you. You tilted your head slightly, allowing Mattheo more space to kiss, nip, and tease, which he happily took advantage of.

After lulling you into a “false” sense of security with gentle kisses, you gasped as Mattheo latched onto your neck and sucked a faint mark onto your skin. “Mattheo! It’s gonna show tomorrow, you sneaky bastard,” you chastised. He only chuckled, sounding all too pleased with himself.

“Mmm… kinda the point, babe. Gotta make sure everyone knows you’re ours. Can’t have someone thinkin’ they can snatch up our little ‘Puff, now can we?” He grinned against your skin, taking a deep breath to inhale your scent. Theo chuckled and shook his head, his hands still exploring underneath your shirt. They squeezed and massaged your soft curves as he watched the playful exchange and the mischief from your boyfriend. Theo hummed softly as your hands came up and fisted in the fabric of his sweater, holding him close.

Eventually, you tried to wriggle your way out of their arms. Not that you wanted to leave the comfort of their embraces, but you also needed a scorching shower after the day you’d had. “Matty, Teddy, you gotta let me go, ‘m just trying to go shower!” You giggled as they refused to let you out of their grasp.

Mattheo lit up, immediately dashing to the bathroom and starting the shower. When he popped back out, he was stripping his shirt off. “Why would you shower alone when we’re here? Saves water to go together, you know?” His grin said everything, and both you and Theo deadpanned at each other before shaking your heads at your boyfriend’s antics.

“Mattheo…” You said with slight reprimand. “I just want a shower, no shenanigans tonight.” He deflated a tad, but still insisted on joining you. “To pamper you,” he claimed.

You relented. Not one but both boys ended up joining you. As they stepped in, Theo complained lowly in his native tongue about how hot you ran your showers, a habit of his every time you shared one. Meanwhile, Mattheo, always eager to touch you in any way possible, dutifully lathered his hands with your shampoo and started massaging it into your scalp.

“Dio mio, come fai a non bruciare vivo? My god, how do you not burn alive?” Theo muttered as he inched his way under the water. You chuckled at his stubborn pout, and grabbed his soap. You washed his chest, shoulders, and neck as he acclimated to the temperature.

“Didn’t you literally grow up in Italy, amore? You’d think you would be used to a little heat by now,” you chuckled.

“‘A little heat’ is very different from being boiled alive like a… gamberetto, dammit, what’s the word in English? The small sea creature, pink and curled, with the little arms…”

Mattheo cackled, always finding it highly amusing whenever Theo forgot the English word for something a tad obscure. “Shrimp, babe, you’re thinking of shrimp. And the water isn’t that hot, either, you’re just being a pussy.” You turned around and lightly hit the shorter boy’s arm for teasing the other.

“Be nice, Matt. But he is right, Theo, you’re thinking of ‘shrimp’,” you said, turning back to rinse him off. Then you allowed Mattheo to tug you back under the water more, letting it wash the shampoo out of your hair. “Though the water really isn’t that hot either, he’s right about that too.” Theo scoffed in disagreement, but gave up the argument, knowing you two- his partners, his loves, his everything- were two of the most stubborn people alive. Lucky him, he thought with a slight smile.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say… now come here, bello beautiful, your turn.” Theo tugged Mattheo over to him and began washing his hair as well, his expression softening as he saw Mattheo give into the pampering. Usually he would grumble when you or Theo tried to pamper and love on him softly like this, but he had a weakness for when you played with his hair or massaged his scalp. You and the boys cleaned up and loved on each other, everything falling into a silent pattern you all knew well. This was generally how it went when one of you had a bad day and came back tired, the resulting exchanges sickeningly sweet pampering and soft words.

Finally, you all finished in the shower and dried off to a satisfactory degree. Mattheo tossed his and Theo’s books off the bed before collapsing into it. “You’d think the man was the one who had the bad day, the way he’s acting so drammatico, dramatic,” Theo murmured, his lips curled around his last cigarette for the day. You nodded in agreement, watching as your other boyfriend sighed a little dramatically, tucking himself under the covers. You crawled in next to him, sighing as well as the warmth enveloped you. One of the best feelings in the world was easing into bed after a hot shower, and to have your favorite people there to hold made it even more heavenly. Snuggling close into Mattheo’s chest, you hummed in contentment and nuzzled under his chin. His strong arms came and wrapped themselves around your frame, his hand running up and down your back lazily.

Theodore finished his cigarette after a couple minutes, admiring his two favorite people settle comfortably. He came to the bed and pulled back the blankets that Mattheo stubbornly clung to, worming his way into the bed behind you. He ran his hands through your hair gently, pressing a kiss to your head. You three held quiet, murmured conversation for a bit, talking about nothing of any importance. Eventually, responses came slower and more slurred, and everyone’s breathing calmed to synchronized rhythms as you all drifted off to sleep.

Tagging @dearmisshoney as per her request

If you’d like to be tagged as well, let me know! Thoughts and criticisms are greatly appreciated

[heavenlybodies333]

Virgin Fucking Mary - M.R.

she told you she’s celibate, but she told me I can rail her shit

Theo had been your best friend since before either of you could properly walk, a bond that never wavered, even as you grew older and Hogwarts became your shared stomping ground. Your friendship was simple, easy—even if he did have a habit of oversharing details of his sex life that you could really, really do without.

You were sitting with Theo, Enzo, and Blaise at the Slytherin table, picking at your food while Theo recounted—far too enthusiastically, might you add—his latest escapade.

"Mate, I swear, I had her begging—"

"Merlin, Theo," you groaned, stabbing a piece of fruit with your fork. "Honestly, I don’t know why you put yourself in these positions when you know you're leading these girls on."

Theo just grinned, unbothered. “Can’t help it, darling. You know how they get when I—”

"You ever try talking to these girls first? Or is it straight to sticking your dicks down their throats?" Before you could roll your eyes, a presence dropped into the seat beside you. The scent of smoke and something inherently masculine curled around you, the unmistakable cologne of Mattheo Riddle invading your senses.

"What's this, then?" His voice was low, amused as he reached over, stealing a chip off your plate. "You giving Nott a lecture on morality, princess?"

You exhaled sharply through your nose, refusing to turn toward him. “Just asking if you whores ever have a conversation with a girl instead of thinking with your—” his hand reached over your plate once again, taking another chip.

"Now, where’s the fun in that?" he mused, popping it into his mouth.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to engage. "Of course you would say that, Riddle."

Theo let out a loud, amused groan, smacking the table. "Alright, alright, calm down, Thou Holy Virgin Mary"

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

Blaise shook his head, laughed under his breath. Enzo snorted into his drink.

But Mattheo—Mattheo—practically collapsed against the table, laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his seat. "No fucking way," he wheezed, pressing a hand to his chest as he recovered.

Your cheeks burned. The heat spread down your neck, prickling against your skin, but you refused to let it show.

"You lot are laughing at me," you huffed, tossing your fork onto your plate, "but at least I don’t have to worry about pushing a fucking kid out of me anytime soon."

Mattheo snorted, his amusement shifting into something more smug. "Yeah, okay, princess," he drawled, leaning into your space. His voice was low, teasing, but his eyes were sharp, glinting with something dark. "No wonder you’re so uptight. Explains why you’re such a bitch."

That pissed you off.

You turned to him slowly, eyes narrowing, expression carefully composed despite the way anger coiled hot in your gut. The others had already lost interest, falling back into their own conversations.

“Oh, I’ll have you know, Riddle,” you said, voice low, syrupy-sweet. “A girl can take matters into her own hands.”

Mattheo blinked. Just once.

You didn’t wait for a response. You stood smoothly, grabbing your book bag, and just for good measure, you leaned down just enough to let your lips ghost near his ear.

"You’d be surprised what I can do without a man."

And then? You walked away. Swaying your hips. Feeling his eyes burn into your back.

By the time you reached the door, you dared one last glance over your shoulder.

And there it was.

Mattheo, still seated, still staring, his expression caught somewhere between surprised and fuck, I’m turned on.

It was late, the library was completely empty with the exception of those in the moving portraits keeping you company. Most students had long since gone to bed, leaving only a dim glow of candlelight flickering between the shelves.

And you weren’t stupid. You had felt it.

The shift in the air. The way the back of your neck tingled. The weight of a stare burning between your shoulder blades.

You knew it was him.

Still, you pretended not to notice. You turned the page of your book, eyes trained on the words, until—

“Taking matters into your own hands, huh?”

His voice was low. Smooth. Dark with something predatory.

You didn’t jump. Didn’t react. Just hummed, dragging your gaze lazily up to where he stood.

Mattheo leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, dark curls falling into his eyes.

You raised a brow. “Something you need?”

His lips curved. “I think you know exactly what I need.”

A slow heat curled in your stomach. You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What, Riddle? A book? Help with your homework?”

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, caging you against the table. His hands found the wood, fingers curling against it as he leaned down—so close you could feel his breath against your cheek.

You refused to look up. Refused to acknowledge the warmth pooling low in your stomach.

But Mattheo? He knew.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he murmured.

His fingers brushed your thigh.

You swallowed hard. “And what’s that?”

Mattheo tilted his head, eyes flickering between yours and your mouth.

“You can show me,” he murmured. “How you take matters into your own hands.”

He saw the way your fingers twitched against the table. The way your lips parted just slightly, as if debating whether to let yourself fall or run. And, like the smug bastard he was, he waited.

“Nothing to say?” he mused, his breath brushing the side of your jaw. His fingers drummed against the wood, lazy, slow. “Funny. You had plenty to say at lunch.”

The heat between you was unbearable. His knee pressed between your legs, just enough to send a spike of need through you, but not enough to satisfy the ache building low in your stomach.

Mattheo saw.

Felt it.

And then—he pushed deeper.

“I bet you like it,” he murmured, dragging his nose along the curve of your jaw. “Being the good little princess. The one no one can touch. The one no one fucks.”

Your breath hitched.

“Bet you get yourself off thinking about it, don’t you?” His lips brushed just against your ear. “How desperate they’d be to ruin you?”

You clenched your teeth, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted.

He saw it anyway.

Felt the way your body betrayed you, thighs squeezing around the knee he’d wedged between them, the pulse of your breath, the heat rolling off you in waves.

Mattheo hummed, pleased.

Then, before you could react, his hand slid under your skirt.

You gasped. “Mattheo—”

But he wasn’t listening.

“I mean, let’s be honest, yeah?” His knuckles brushed the inside of your thigh. “A girl can take matters into her own hands, sure—but it’s not the same, is it?”

He leaned in, lips barely brushing your ear. dragging his fingers higher, pressing against the damp fabric of your underwear.

“Look at that,” he mused. "Virgin Mary isn’t so innocent after all."

Your fingers curled against the table. "I will kill you."

He just laughed, dark and low. "Yeah? You gonna do it with my fingers in your cunt, or after I fuck you stupid?"

Your brain short-circuited.

Mattheo used your stunned silence to his advantage, slipping his fingers beneath your underwear, dragging them through the slick pooling between your thighs.

"Fuck, Mattheo—"

He hums, watching your face, the way your lips part, the way your brows pull together in pleasure.

"You’re soaked," he smirks. "Thought you didn’t like me."

"I don’t like you," you pant, back arching as his fingers move faster, working you open, leaving you breathless.

He laughs. "Sure, princess."

He pulls his fingers out, and you whimper at the loss, at the emptiness. But then he’s undoing his belt, pushing his slacks down just enough, and your stomach tightens at the sight of him—thick, hard, leaking at the tip.

Mattheo catches your gaze, smirking. "You’re staring."

You roll your eyes, even as you hook your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Are you gonna talk all night, or are you gonna—fuck—"

Because he’s already sliding inside, pushing into you inch by inch, stretching you open in the most devastating way.

"Shit," he groans, hands gripping your thighs. "So fucking tight."

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, head falling back as he fills you completely. You feel everything—the way he pulses inside you, the way his breath stutters against your neck, the way he’s holding himself back, barely resisting the urge to ruin you.

"Mattheo," you whisper. "Deeper, please—"

Something in him snaps.

His grip tightens, and then he’s fucking you—hard, deep, brutal. Every thrust shoves you harder against the wall, knocking the breath from your lungs. You cling to him, nails raking down his back, thighs trembling.

"That what you want?" he rasps, snapping his hips forward, making you cry out. "You want me to fuck you deeper?"

You can’t answer. Can’t think. All you can do is take it, take him, let him fuck you so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat.

"Should’ve known," he mutters, biting down against your shoulder. "All that attitude—just a needy little slut underneath, huh?"

You whimper, gasping his name, digging your heels into his lower back, urging him closer, deeper.

Mattheo groans, pulling back just enough to look at you—your lips swollen, your pupils blown wide, your expression absolutely wrecked.

"Fuck," he mutters. "You look so good like this. Bet Theo would kill me if he knew."

You’re too far gone to care.

"Don’t stop," you plead, voice breaking.

He doesn’t.

He fucks you through it, fucks you until you’re falling apart around him, nails dragging down his spine, thighs squeezing tight around his waist as your orgasm rips through you.

"You feel that?" His voice was wrecked, panting, his forehead dropping against your shoulder as he buried himself inside you. "That’s what it’s like when a real man fucks you, sweetheart."

Mattheo groans at the feeling, his pace stuttering, his grip bruising. And then he’s spilling inside you, breathless and wrecked, pressing his forehead against yours as he cums, his thrusts erratic as they slowed.

You were still catching your breath, skirt bunched around your waist, Mattheo’s hands gripping your thighs with a possessive kind of desperation. As he finally pulled out, breath heavy against your ear. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned back, taking in the sight of you—disheveled, marked up, and absolutely wrecked beneath him.

His fingers brushed over your thigh before he whispered, “Was that your first?” His voice was dripping with smugness, already assuming he knew the answer. “Did you like it?”

You tilted your head up at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. Oh, Mattheo…

“Do you really think I’d lose my virginity to you?” you mused, voice laced with sweet mockery as you reached for your skirt, slipping it back on with slow, deliberate movements. You adjusted it, smoothing out the creases, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkened.

Mattheo’s smirk faltered. “What?”

His expression shifted—something sharp, something dark. "What the fuck does that mean?"

You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder with an easy smirk. "It means, sweetheart," you said, voice dripping with faux sympathy, "that you really should have a chat with Theo sometime."

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering before realization settled in like a slow-burning fire.

"Oh," you mused, tapping your chin like you were deep in thought. "You don’t know about him, do you? About how he doesn't really get the whole 'kiss and don’t tell' thing?"

You slung your bag over your shoulder, taking your time fixing your hair in the reflection of a nearby window. turning to face him, "I don’t kiss and tell—but unfortunately for you, Theo definitely does." you said sweetly.

His brows furrowed. "Theo—what the fuck are you talking about?"

You leaned in, just close enough that he could smell the faint hint of perfume on your skin, the remnants of whatever sin you two had just committed. "Ask him about me sometime," you murmured, a smirk playing at the edges of your lips. "I’m sure he’d love to share the details."

You turned to leave, but not before tossing one last dagger straight at his ego. “Oh, and Mattheo?” You glanced over your shoulder, giving him one last look-over. "Next time, try lasting longer."

Then you walked out, leaving him alone in the dim glow of the library—jaw tight, fists clenched, drowning in the bitter aftertaste of his own ego—because for once in his life, Mattheo Riddle wasn’t the one doing the ruining.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: slut me out

here’s part 2 for you whores

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[sativariddle]

CHECK YOUR WINDOW ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

⌗ ┆ word count: 10k+

⌗ ┆content: perv!theo, boyfriend!mattheo, cheating & betrayal, strong language, heavy sexual content. if you don’t enjoy my content, there’s no need for you to stick around, i’m not responsible for what you choose to engage with. for @pilupotter ᰔ

⌗ ┆ summary: check your window, he’s at your window: caught in the mess between jealousy and obsession, theo begins to have a crush on the one person he knows he can never touch: his best friend’s girlfriend. but everything changes the night he sees you with mattheo through the window, a view he was never meant to witness.

♫ — ❝ check your window, he’s at your window. ❞

╰› navigation.⌇m.list.⌇my au’s .⌇other song lol.

THEO HAD NEVER KNOWN the ugly emotion of jealousy. it was an unfamiliar feeling to someone like him, one that belonged to other boys, boys who had to fight for attention, compete for power. jealousy, after all, only creeps in when you see something you want but believe you’ll never have. that had never been theo’s reality.

from the moment he could speak, if he pointed at a toy in a shop window, his father’s gold handled it before he even asked. if he admired a rare piece of jewelry in passing, it was in his room by nightfall. no explanations. possession had never been a question, it was an expectation. even people, in their own strange way, came to him. at school, if he decided he wanted someone’s company, it was only a matter of time. he never pleaded, never played the fool to earn friendship. he watched, waited, and the chosen eventually fell into his circle. whether from fear, or fascination, it didn’t matter. they came.

his father had shaped him this way. the elder nott would speak in a tone that meant more to theo than a shout. “there’s a difference between being loved and being feared,” he told theo once, as they stood in the drawing room. “when people hear the nott name, they do not smile. they do not speak it softly. they whisper it. that is power. power isn’t loved. it is obeyed.”

theo was like a cloth wiping down a table: soaking up everything his father said, holding onto it all until the next time he needed it.

so no, jealousy had no place in his chest. not when he’d been raised not to envy, but to expect. not when the world had always shown him that if he desired something, it would eventually belong to him.

mattheo was the only one who didn’t fear theodore, his closest friend, most would say. even back when they were in school, people used to joke they were glued at the hip. they told each other everything. from the girls they slept with, in detail, to family stuff. nothing was off limits.

when mattheo got kicked out of his father’s manor and showed up at the nott’ manor asking for a place to crash, no one was surprised when theo’s father said yes. the place had plenty of guest rooms, and mattheo had always been like a second son to the old man. leaving him homeless on the street would’ve been unthinkable.

"helloooo, girl next door,” mattheo whistled under his breath, leaning forward slightly as he peered out of the window. theo was scrambling through the mess on his desk, trying to find a quill beneath piles of parchment and books. at the sound of mattheo’s voice, he paused, head snapping up. with a furrowed brow, theo walked over and came to stand beside his friend. his gaze followed mattheo’s, settling on the window that overlooked the neighboring manor. it sat a little further out, though one window in particular caught their attention.

directly across from theodore’s was your room. your light was on, the sky outside had already started to darken into deep blues and purples. from where they stood, they could see just enough: the curve of your shoulder as you walked past, the way your curtains shifted with the breeze. "oh yeah," theo muttered, looking away. "the new neighbor my father was talking about." watching someone through their bedroom window, even unintentionally, felt intrusive to theo.

“didn’t think to tell me?” mattheo asked, he watched you move around your bedroom, opening boxes, pulling out books and folded clothes. your hair slipped over your shoulder as you bent forward, revealing the line of your bare neck. “sorry,” theo sarcastically replied from beside him, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “didn’t think you’d care about us getting a new neighbor.”

“i didn’t.” mattheo tilted his head, shifting a little closer to the glass. “now i do.”

you had no idea you were being watched, placing a few things on the windowsill before turning toward the bed, where a white towel was laid out. mattheo’s gaze followed your hands as they reached for the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, inch by inch. you were probably getting ready for a shower.

a cold water bottle came flying through the air, smacking mattheo square in the cheek. “stop watchin’ the girl, will you?” theodore snapped. “you look like a fuckin’ creep.” mattheo flinched only slightly, caught off guard, then turned his head slowly, the corner of his mouth curling into that annoying smirk. he rubbed the side of his face where the bottle had hit but didn’t look the least bit remorseful.

“jealous?” he drawled, cocking a brow. theo didn’t answer right away. he turned back to his desk, sifting through the mess like he hadn’t heard the question. a few crumpled pieces of parchment were swept into his hand and tossed into the nearby bin. “you’re still the love of my life, theo,” mattheo added, leaning back against the window frame. “there’s no need to be jealous.”

theodore let out a dry snort, not even turning around as he casually flipped him the middle finger. “and if she catches you staring at her while she’s taking off her shirt?” theodore said, looking over his shoulder. “might as well tattoo ‘pervert’ on your fuckin’ forehead and let the whole neighborhood know.” mattheo just shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek as he glanced once more toward the window.

“don’t know,” he said. “some girls love that shit.” theodore exhaled sharply through his nose. he was done. done trying to reason with a walking hormone in human form. “get to bed,” he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “you’re speaking with your dick again.”

mattheo chuckled, stepping closer to theo and giving him a playful shove to the chest. it wasn’t hard, more of a nudge, but it earned a shove right back.

that shove earned mattheo’s full attention: a harsh push to theodore’s shoulder that made him stumble back a step. without hesitation, theo shoved him again, harder this time. mattheo huffed. he’d always been a sucker for a good play fight, the kind that started as a joke but never stayed that way for too long. and the second theodore turned his back to brush him off, mattheo lunged.

he tackled him around the middle, dragging him down to the floor. the impact sent theodore crashing onto the floor with a thud, his back hitting the wooden floor beneath it as a grunt escaped his chest. “you fucker-” theodore cracked, trying to twist out from under him. but mattheo was already trying to pin him, arms locked around theodore’s shoulders.

in the fight, theo shoved at mattheo’s head with one palm, trying to push him off. his fingers caught the side of mattheo’s head, forcing him sideways — too far. the motion sent mattheo’s skull colliding with the edge of the desk beside them.

“asshole,” mattheo muttered under his breath, he rubbed the spot where his head had hit the desk, slowly pushing himself up before giving theodore a light kick in the ribs with the toe of his shoe before disappearing out the door with a dramatic slam that rattled the frame.

theo rolled his blue eyes and stood up. mattheo had been living at the nott manor for nearly six months now, but he still spent more time in theodore’s room than his own. no matter how many guest rooms the home had, he always ended up across theo’s bed, in his desk chair, or raiding his bookshelf.

theo thinks it’s because his room has always felt more like home than anywhere else. when they were kids, they rarely hung out in the guest rooms. those spaces were too too quiet, meant for people who didn’t stay. theo’s had history. it had laughter ghosting into the walls, secrets in the closet. back then, when life felt fresh, before things got complicated, before people started drifting: they all used to cram into his room without a second thought.

pansy would sprawl across his bed, flipping through magazines and rolling her eyes at draco’s ‘girly’ commentary. blaise would sit on the floor, leaning against the dresser, legs stretched out. enzo always found the window seat, sketchbook in hand, not listening to the talk around him.

mattheo was everywhere. on the bed, on the floor, by the door. moving constantly: he was trying to soak in every second of it. theo’s room held their shared growth. the jokes, the fights, the long talks that happened when the lights were out and no one wanted to be the first to fall asleep. even now, theo can still hear the echoes of it when he steps inside. maybe that’s why he feels more at peace there than anywhere else: a place with the memory of his happiest days, when they were all together.

theodore walked over to the window, and reached for the curtains, he hated sleeping with them open. the way outside lights bled into his room always messed with his sleep, casting odd shapes on the walls and waking him up at stupid hours.

just as he grabbed the fabric, something caught his eye. you had just stepped out of the shower, the steam still curling around you. a towel was slung loosely around your body, clinging to your damp skin, the fabric darkened in places where water still kissed your flesh. your hair was wet, heavy with moisture, dark strands sticking to your shoulders and framing your face.

theodore paused the moment he saw you. he watched, completely helpless as a bead of water traced a slow path down the slope of your collarbone, disappearing beneath the edge of your towel.

he swallowed, feeling the back of his throat burn, blinking twice as if to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. every instinct in him choosing between looking away out of respect and drinking in the sight of you: wrapped in nothing but a bit of fabric.

the towel slipped from your body, falling to the floor soundlessly. theo’s breath hitched the second the fabric fell, revealing every inch of your bare skin. his lips parted without him realizing, gaze caught immediately on your breasts: perfectly perky—and pierced. the silver flash of the jewelry against your skin made his head spin.

he should’ve looked away. fuck, he knew that. he should’ve snapped the curtains shut the moment he saw you walk in, dripping wet from your shower, towel barely clinging to you. he should’ve thrown himself into bed, buried his head under the covers, forced himself to pretend he hadn’t seen anything.

you didn’t bother getting dressed. still naked, you crossed the room without a hint of shame, water on your skin as if you were dipped in moonlight. with a small hop, you climbed onto your bed, body completely exposed from where theodore stood frozen by his window. he watched you move, comfortable in your own skin. the way you shifted around on the mattress, adjusting your pillows, tossing them this way and that way without a care in the world. you were putting on a show without even realizing it, every twist of your hips, every stretch of your arms offering him a new angle to memorize, to burn into the back of his eyelids forever.

once you finally settled, your back sank into the sheets, muscles relaxing into the mattress. the soft cloth cradled you, hugging every dip and curve. theo’s chest rose and fell unevenly, unable to look away as your pierced nipples stood tight and hard, pointing up toward the ceiling. the silver jewelry small and beautiful on you.

you trailed your right hand down, fingertips dancing lazily over your breast, nails scratching slightly across the sensitive skin. lower and lower you went, dragging those fingers over the smooth, freshly shaved skin of your lower stomach, your body arching just slightly into your own touch.

he could see everything: the way your breathing deepened, the way your thighs shifted apart the ever so slightest, welcoming yourself home. with a roll of your wrist, you dipped your hand even lower, your index finger brushing gently over the swollen mound of your clit.

theo couldn’t move, couldn’t even think as he watched you spread yourself out across the bed, knees bent and falling open, giving him a full view of everything. your skin practically glowed, a leftover dampness still clinging to your body. your fingers, those delicate fingers moved lazy strokes over your clit. his stomach tightened painfully, a low heat coiling in his gut. he watched as you dragged the tip of your finger in circles, the movement so soft it was almost teasing yourself, building your own tension.

you tilted your head back slightly, letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip. he didn’t know if you were trying to muffle your sounds or if it was some subconscious need to savor the pressure, but either way, it didn’t matter. all thoughts that made sense abandoned in favor of the desperate need flooding his body.

everything he was feeling, every throb of want, every spike of lust, every dizzying pull toward you seemed to rush straight down to his dick, swelling painfully against his sweats. you moved, hips rolling up into your own touch, adding more pressure. with the kind of slowwww that made theodore’s vision blur at the edges, you pushed a finger deep inside yourself. “mmph…”

the sound you made punched the air right out of theodore’s lungs. it wasn’t loud, but it didn’t need to be. whether you had meant it to be heard or not, it banged through him, making his entire body clench and his cock harden so fast it hurt. he squeezed his eyes shut for half a second, trying and failing to gather himself. but the second he opened them again, you rewarded him with an even filthier sight.

another finger joined the first, stretching you wider, making your hips rock slightly against your hand. you moved them in and out, out and in, fingers disappearing into the heat of your pussy, coated in the evidence of your own wetness. theo’s ears were ringing, too consumed by the sight of your hand moving, of your body writhing slightly against the sheets, of your thighs trembling as you fucked yourself open.

your eyebrows pulled together, forehead creasing in that beautiful, desperate way as your pleasure built. gasping sounds slipping free without a hint of restraint. the movements of your fingers grew faster, your hips subtly chasing every stroke, your thighs trembling with the effort to stay open. theodore’s eyes devoured you. every detail. every breath.

he noticed everything: the way your right breast, slightly pressed to the side by the movement of your arm, causing the piercing threaded through your nipple to poke out at a perfect angle. theo felt a an aching need crash through him, a hunger to have it between his teeth, to feel the cold shock of metal against his hot tongue, to suck and tug and soothe until you were gasping even harder beneath him.

his hand gripped the windowsill so tightly his knuckles turned white. he stared hard, breath fogging up the small corner of glass before him, matching the uneven, shuddering breathing of yours. every squeaky whimper, every hitch of your hips, every sound of your fingers plunging deep into your own body buried itself into his mind.

you came with a cry, legs quaking around your hand. your face softened in the aftermath, a look of pure bliss taking over your beautiful features: lips parted, lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks.

with a violent jerk, theo closed the blinds, the snap of the cord sounding too loud in the silence of his room. he stumbled back a step, chest heaving, staring down in disbelief at the painful boner against his sweats. he dragged a shaking hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. he felt like a damn teenager again, seeing boobs for the first time on a crumpled magazine page he wasn’t supposed to have.

“you think she’d like this?” mattheo asked, holding the dress up between his fingers. he rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, raising an eyebrow. “she’s always fuckin’ talking about wanting dresses with this kind of fabric. all soft and shit.”

it had become a routine, one theo never spoke about, even to himself. every day, he found his feet carrying him to the same spot: the window in the far corner of his room, the one that offered a perfect view into yours. from there, he could see you through the soft cover of curtains that you always forget, or maybe just didn’t care, to close.

most days, you were alone. reading, usually. sometimes curled on your side with a blanket pulled up to your waist, the bedside lamp illuminating your face. other times, you were cross legged in the center of your bed, a book propped open against your knees, mouthing the words silently as your fingers absentmindedly traced the dog eared page corners. sometimes, you’d bring a friend over, usually a girl with a laugh too loud. you’d lounge across your bed together, heads bent over the edge of your bed, your body loose with comfort.

theodore would watch. you’d become his obsession without even trying. he told himself it was nothing. that it would pass. that if he just kept watching from afar, the pull in his chest would ease. but it never did.

what made it so much fucking worse, what twisted the blade in deeper, was the guilt. not just the guilt of watching you when he shouldn’t have, but the guilt that grew the day he saw you kiss someone else. the day he realized it wasn’t just someone.

it was mattheo. theo hadn’t known. not even a hint. mattheo told him everything, or so he thought. they’d been friends for years, bonded by too many fights and drunken nights and secrets they weren’t proud of. every hookup. every fling. every girl who’d passed through mattheo’s bed had been a joke, something to laugh about the next morning.

not this time. theodore had been standing at the window like he always did, eyes drifting toward your room. you were sitting cross legged on your bed, a paperback open in your lap, your hair loose and slightly messy like you’d just woken from a nap. you were turning a page when the door to your room opened, and theodore’s heart gave a confused lurch: mattheo stepped in. like it was normal. like it was his place to be.

theo had watched, body frozen except for the slow tightening in his jaw. mattheo didn’t say anything. as if he didn’t need to. he just crossed the room with that confidence he always carried, tossed his hoodie on the chair by your desk, and leaned down. as if this was a routine, pressing his mouth to yours in a kiss that was far too comfortable. your hands slid up into his hair and kissed him back, like you’d done it a hundred times before.

theo just stood there, staring with furrowed brows. the silence of his room made everything worse, the way your lips moved, the curve of your smile against mattheo’s mouth. he watched as his best friend slid his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, slowly pushing the fabric upward, revealing the bare of your waist, the lump of your breasts, the metal piercings theodore had spent countless nights dreaming about tasting with his own tongue.

and when mattheo came back from your house that night, theodore couldn’t stop himself from prying. working around the edges of the conversation like trying to defuse a bomb without knowing which wire to cut, asking the kind of casual questions that wouldn’t make him seem desperate to know.

eventually, however, mattheo cracked. laughing under his breath, running a hand through his curls: told theo that the two of you had been sneaking around together for about five weeks now, slipping in and out of each other’s beds, pretending the fire between you wasn’t setting blaze to everything it touched. and just like fuckin’ that, theodore felt stupid.

he sat there, nodding along like an idiot, pretending to find it funny, pretending he wasn’t shattering apart piece by piece inside. because all those nights he’d been standing at his window, staring at you like some fool, you’d already been his. mattheo’s hands had already mapped the curves theo could only dream about touching; his mouth had already tasted the skin theo ached to claim.

of course. of course that was why your curtains were drawn most nights now, blocking theo out.

regardless, even after theo found out you were dating mattheo, the acknowledgment hadn’t been enough to pry him away from that damn window. it should’ve been. god, it should’ve been. but how could he stop? you were still there, every day, existing just on the other side of the glass. gorgeous. the thought that you belonged to someone else now, that you were mattheo’s, should’ve made it feel wrong. and it did. it absolutely did. but that shame came with something addictive. the twisted thrill of watching something he could never have, of seeing you laugh or stretch or curl beneath your sheets in the early morning, knowing you were his best friend’s girl.

“no clue. you’re the boyfriend,” theo muttered, eyes scanning the hang of a sundress mattheo had plucked from a display rack in some dress shop. a pale blue thing, the kind of dress that would fall just below your thighs and hug your waist. theodore didn’t want to picture you in it, but of course, he did. he could already see it: you standing barefoot in your bedroom, spinning just slightly in front of the mirror, fingertips brushing down the fabric. or worse—he imagined it sliding down your shoulders, puddling around your ankles as mattheo stepped toward you with that smirk he wore when he knew he was about to get lucky.

“have to get it for her,” riddle said, holding the dress up. “she’d look fuckin’ amazing.”

theo stayed quiet. watched as mattheo strutted up to the front desk, tossing the dress gently onto the counter. the woman behind the register gave a soft smile, eyes flicking up to riddle. theo could make out the exchange from a few steps back, hearing the cashier ask, “for your girl?” with a teasing smile. mattheo’s curls bounced as he nodded and said something that made her giggle. some stupid line, no doubt.

theodore had never been the jealous type. anything he wanted, he got, usually without even having to ask. but people always want what they can’t have. and theodore wanted you. wanted you soooo badly in a way that ate at the open places inside him he hadn’t even realized were empty.

mattheo strolled back, confidence in every step, a small black bag dangling effortlessly off his ring finger like it weighed nothing, catching on the silver rings he always wore. his grin was all teeth. “let’s go,” he said, tilting his head toward the street. theo didn’t trust himself to speak, not when his head was a hurricane of thoughts that had no business being there. he kept his hands shoved in his pockets, eyes on the ground, his jaw tight as he tried to walk off the jealousy clawing at his ribs. it was stupid, he knew.

by the time they reached home, the sky was a shade of indigo. theo didn’t wait around — the front door had barely clicked shut behind them when he was already climbing the stairs two at a time, footsteps heavy on the wood. he didn’t even glance back.

mattheo didn’t follow. turning on his heel and heading right back out the door, toward your place. theo caught it from the top of the stairs: the quick jingle of keys, the door creaking open again, the soft click as it closed behind him. theo stood there, hand still on the banister, lips parted like he might call out — tell him to wait, to stay, to go fuck himself. but nothing came out. what was he going to say anyway? don’t go see her? mattheo would’ve just laughed. that cocky laugh that always made theo feel two inches shorter. he’d say something like, “jealous?” with that tilt of his head, and then walk out anyway. so theo let him go. let him take that damn bag of whatever he bought you, let him walk right into your space, right into your home, into the warmth that wasn’t his to want.

who the hell was theo to protest? he went straight to his room, peeled off his jacket, and crawled under the covers fully clothed. the sheets were cool against his skin, but it didn’t soothe anything. the drinks he’d had earlier sat heavy in his stomach — not enough to make him dizzy, but enough to make everything feel just a little off. he hoped they’d knock him out. that sleep would come quick.

it didn’t. he lay flat on his back, one arm flung over his eyes to block out the thoughts, but they came anyway. he counted the cracks in the ceiling. focused on the soft tick of the old clock on his dresser. on the way the wind brushed against the window, rattling the glass every so often.

"mm... ugh."

theodore jolted upright, ears straining like an animal catching the faintest scent of a target. had he heard that right? he thought he was imagining it, but then he heard it again, clearer this time. “yes… augh, yes…” desperate.

he would have known those sounds anywhere. those pretty little squeal of a moan that slipped from your mouth. he’d spent many nights pressed against the windowsill, watching you with your curtains drawn open just wide enough, seeing the way your body moved beneath your own touch. each quiet gasp, each whimper had been burned into him. engraved so deep inside his mind that even now, with nothing but the sound of your voice to guide him, he could see it all: the way your lashes fluttered, the way your fingers moved, the way your back arched off the mattress as you chased your own pleasure.

theo tossed aside his blanket and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. pushing himself up with his arms, he began walking toward the window. it was already open, though the curtains were drawn. grabbing them at the center where outside light peeked through, he yanked them open.

your bare back faced the glass. mattheo lay stretched out beneath you, his dark curls a mess against your pink silk pillows, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. your nails: painted a perfect, glossy white, the edge of your french tips scratched lightly over the broad of mattheo’s chest, leaving red trails. every movement you made was sluggish, lifting your hips, rolling them with a rhythm that made mattheo’s fingers dig deeper into your skin, leaving bruises theo could already see forming along your hips.

his best friends hands clutched you, urging you to move faster, so much harder, needing more.

you leaned down, your spine arching in a curve, and pressed a line of tongue mouthed kisses along the side of mattheo’s neck: hungry kisses that spoke of intimacy theo had never been allowed to taste. he watched you part your lips against mattheo’s throat, tasting the salt on his tan skin, heard the low groan mattheo let out as you continued to ground your hips down.

theo bit down so hard on his own cheek he tasted blood. his cock was hurting against his sweats, but he didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe, terrified he’d miss a second.

mattheo’s hands slid from your hips to the plush of your ass. his fingers digging into the meat, squeezing with a grasp that made your body jolt slightly against him. with rough strength, mattheo lifted you just enough to adjust the angle between you, guiding you down again. until you took every inch of him, your bodies fitting together like two broken pieces of the same shattered thing.

theo saw the way your head tipped forward, a moan falling from your lips: the sound sooo soft, vibrating against mattheo’s throat where you kissed him, your lips dragging across his pulse point. fingers curled against mattheo’s chest for balance, the rock of your hips as you rode him faster.

mattheo’s cock drove into you, the swollen head bumping against your g-spot with each thrust.

theodore could see it, could feel it, just by the way your body reacted. every time you lifted your hips, your thighs quivered, your back arching in those beautiful little spasms you couldn’t control.

but frustration simmered just beneath the heat because you were facing away from him, the smooth curve of your back blocking the view he craved most: he’d always loved watching the way your pierced nipples caught his full attention, how the metal glinted as your chest rose with every breath. and now it was hidden from him, kept secret while mattheo got to touch it, taste it.

each grind of mattheo’s hips had your body jolting forward, theodore knew, knew that the thick veins along his best friend’s cock were dragging against your squishy walls, stroking you just right. the way your body melted against his, the way your mouth parted in gasps said everything. your wetness coating him, making every thrust sticky, the lewd squelching sound loud enough that theo could almost hear it through the damn glass.

theo’s dick was throbbing painfully against his jeans, hard as fuck. he hated himself for it. hated that he couldn’t look away. hated that you were right there, split open for someone else, and he couldn’t touch you.

a sound clawed its way from theo’s throat as he shoved his hand into his pants. the first cold brush of his fingertips against his cock tore a choked gasp from him, body jerking against the window. he wrapped his hand around himself in a punishing hold, stroking, as if he could tear the want out of his body by force alone.

“fuckin’ look at yourself,” theodore heard mattheo. you whimpered, head falling back, the ends of your hair grazing over his best friends thighs.

theo fisted himself harder, his eyes on the curve of your back to your golden hoops — in his mind, he saw it clearly: the tattoo beneath your right breast, the one he wanted to mouth, to bite, to worship until you sobbed his name. he imagined it was his cock buried deep inside you, his hands tangled in your hair, your voice breaking as you screamed for him.

that alone made the coil inside theo snap: a release that yanked a whine from his throat. his fingers pinched instinctively, milking every last pulse of hot, desperate seed into his palm. his body jerking against the windowpane, trembling as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through him. the glass against his forehead blurred and fogged with his stuttering breath, but he barely noticed, lost to the absolute high of it.

however, he was instantly flooded with embarrassment at how quickly he had come, all from just the simple sight of his best friend and you.

“oh, come on, nott. it’s my girl’s fuckin’ birthday,” mattheo said, annoyed. pleading as he leaned heavily against the edge of theo’s bedroom window, arms crossed tight over his chest. his chocolate eyes moved between his friend and the view just beyond the glass, where you sat at your vanity, running your fingers through your hair. “pansy and her girlfriend are already there,” he continued, yanking his head toward the sound of laughter and music starting to rise.

“draco, enzo, blaise—everyone’s waiting. it’s going to be weird as fuck if you don’t show up.”

theo didn’t look up. he remained at his desk, wiping it down with a soft cloth like he did nearly every evening. no matter how often he cleaned, it somehow managed to look messier by the next morning. what mattheo didn’t say, but knew, was that theodore’s desk sat in the perfect spot, positioned just below the large window that framed a direct view into your room. from where he stood, theo could see everything. the setup wasn’t intentional, it had been that way since before either of them could remember. his desk had always been there, longggg before he realized what that window actually offered.

“don’t feel like it,” theodore replied, barely looking up from where he was running his cloth in circles across the surface of his desk. “barely even know the woman,” he added with a shrug.

he didn’t know you, not in the way people usually mean when they talk about getting to know someone. he didn’t know your favorite color, or what kind of movies you liked, or whether you bit your nails when you were nervous. but he knew what your body looked like beneath soft silk and tight cotton. he knew the way your lips parted and your head tilted back when you were chasing pleasure, whether it was under someone else’s touch or your own. he’d never heard your voice in conversation, but he’d heard it in squeaky moans carried through open windows.

mattheo exhaled loudly, dragging a hand down his face before turning back toward the window. “exactly,” he said, gesturing toward the sight of you. “you don’t know her. so m’trying to fix that. my two favorite people don’t even know each other, theo. that’s messed up.” that made theodore pause. he turned his head, giving a sideways glance at mattheo. his best friend wasn’t even looking at him, his gaze had returned to the window, locked on you.

curious despite himself, theo followed his best friend’s line of sight. you were sitting at the edge of your vanity chair, legs crossed, applying a final coat of lip gloss. your hair was half up, curls falling down your back like warm honey. the dress you wore, silky where it hugged your hips: the one mattheo had bought for you last week.

you looked gorgeous. too stunning. and somehow theo’s eyes weren’t drawn to the usual things. his attention caught on the tiniest details: the shimmer of body oil on your collarbone. the way your earring swung each time your head tilted. and, because he couldn’t help it, the outline of the piercings on your breasts, barely visible through the thin material of the dress, but justtttt enough to be noticed if someone was looking closely.

“not in the mood to party anyway.” the words were simple, tossed out casually as theo leaned back in his chair, fingertips tapping lightly against the edge of his desk. but the second they left his mouth, mattheo’s head snapped around like he’d been slapped. “not in the mood to party?” he repeated, disbelief in his voice.

mattheo had known theo since they were kids, since scraped knees to the stolen bottles of alcohol behind the castle. if there was one thing he could count on, it was that theodore nott never missed a party. not for exams, not for breakups, not even for detention. the boy lived for chaos, for loud music and dancing girls and a drink in each hand. so this didn’t make sense. “who are you, and what the fuck did you do to my best friend?” he asked. “seriously, tell him i want him back.”

nott rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. he shook his head and stood up slowly, stretching before he leaned his weight against the desk. “i’m serious,” he said. “go have fun with your girl. it’s her fuckin’ birthday, just tell her i said happy birthday, yeah?” but even as he spoke, even as he tried to sound uninterested, theo’s eyes wandered back to the window. back to you. still seated at your vanity, fastening the tiny clasp of a necklace around your neck, brushing the curve of your collarbone as you adjusted it.

theo couldn’t go to that party. he wouldn’t. if he saw you and mattheo together, up close, arms around each other, eyes locked in that way that only couples do. he wouldn’t be able to handle it. he’d pretend, obviously. theo was good at pretending. he’d lean against the wall with a drink in hand and wear that handsome grin. but the whole time, he’d be watching you. watching him with you. watching you with him. it would tear him apart.

you were already irresistible when seen through a window. but up close? with that perfume he’d caught traces of in the hallway? with your laugh in his ears instead of muffled through glass? he’d lose his mind.

mattheo bit the inside of his cheek. he hated this. hated the feeling of walking away from something that was supposed to be fun, that was supposed to include everyone he cared about. he and theo had done everything together since they were eleven: first smokes, first fights, first girls, first heartbreaks. there wasn’t a memory worth keeping that didn’t have nott’s name scribbled somewhere in the corner of it. and now, on a night that mattered. his girlfriend’s night, your night, mattheo couldn’t help but feel wrong leaving him behind.

however, mattheo knew better than to argue. if theo said he didn’t feel like partying, then dragging him out would be a lost cause. the fucker was more stubborn than anyone he’d ever met. once he was set in a direction, you’d break your legs trying to turn him around.

letting out an exhale through his nose. “alright,” mattheo said finally, turning toward the door, disappointment dragging at his voice. “if you change your mind, the party’s next door. you know where to find us.” theo gave a nod, already turning his back on his best friend. behind him, he heard the sigh mattheo always gave when he was pretending not to care, followed by the slow creak of the bedroom door opening, closing, then fading footsteps down the hallway.

the moment he knew he was alone, theo turned around. he didn’t even try to hide it anymore. his gaze went straight to your window.

you were standing now, having just risen from your vanity chair. the hem of your dress settled around your thighs as you reached for your perfume, spritzing a small cloud into the air before stepping through it, letting it kiss your skin.

your hands smoothed down the fabric of your dress once more as you took a final look in the mirror, brushing a curl of hair behind your ear. theo watched as you grabbed your little clutch bag. paused at the frame for just a second, looking back, maybe to check your reflection one last time, maybe just thinking—and then disappeared from view.

of all the people theo could’ve become obsessed with, why did it have to be you? why did it have to be his best friend’s girlfriend? the one girl he couldn’t have, the one person who should’ve been completely off limits. obsession didn’t even feel like the right word anymore. it was deeper than that.

when this all started, when theo first saw you touching yourself, you weren’t even with mattheo. he remembered that night vividly: down to the way you were lying back, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every desperate sound you let out. your hand was slow between your thighs, and the look on your face was tattooed into his mind permanently.

what if he’d moved first? what if he hadn’t stayed silent, hadn’t given mattheo time to get close to you? would you have looked at him the way you look at his best friend now? would you have let him touch you until you were trembling, maybe even crying from how good he’d make you feel? would you have let him ruin you in all the ways he dreamed of?

oh, could’ve, should’ve, fuckin’ would’ve. but the most twisted, most fucked part of it all: theo had only grown more obsessed after finding out you and mattheo were together. he couldn’t explain it. something about seeing the two of you wrapped up in each other, giving and taking pleasure so lovingly, cracked him open in ways he didn’t even want to name.

just like mattheo had said, his two favorite people. you and mattheo: two people theo is utterly obsessed with — had found each other. the two people theo loved to watch, to crave for, had somehow ended up in a relationship.

god, he loved it. he loved when his best friend came back smelling like you: the sweetness of your skin, raw scent of sex still sticking to him. he loved knowing you had made mattheo feel so good that he’d finally settled, finally stayed in a relationship.

theo loved it. loved that if it couldn’t be him wrecking you, worshiping you, making you come on his cock so deliciously, at least it was his best friend. if he wasn’t the one making mattheo’s eyes flutter shut in pleasure, you were. he tried to deny it — every part of him convinced that he was just jealous because mattheo had you. but the truth was more twisted: he was jealous because you had mattheo too.

theo blinked hard, over and over, as if it would somehow erase the thoughts that had taken inside his mind. thoughts so bizarre, so fucked, they didn’t even feel like they belonged to him. his chest felt tight, his skin too hot. he pushed himself up from his desk chair, the legs scraping roughly against the wood floor, and stalked toward the bathroom. he slid open the shower door with a clatter, the sound echoing in the tiled space, and twisted the faucet on full blast toward freezing cold. the pipes making a shuddering sound as he tore at his clothes: stripping his shirt off over his head, kicking his pants down in one tug, leaving a trail of garments behind him like he couldn’t get them off fast enough.

the moment he stepped beneath the icy spray, the shock of it hit him instantly. theo hissed through his teeth, bowing his head as the water tickled down his overheated skin, soaking his hair, dragging goosebumps across his frame. he leaned a palm against the cold tile, his other hand curling briefly into a fist at his side as he forced himself to stand there, to let the freezing water do its brutal work.

the arousal he’d gotten, just from the vivid thought of his two favorite people tangled up in pleasure, so good for him — fucked him up.

he stayed there longer than necessary, shampooing his hair, scrubbing his body hard enough to turn his skin red. as if he could wash the images out of his mind along with the sweat from his skin. when he finally shut off the faucet, the silence was instant. water dripped from his hair, trailing down his spine as he reached for a towel. he wrapped it low around his hips, the cotton scratching at his skin, and wiped a hand across the fogged mirror without bothering to really look at himself.

he grabbed a handful of cotton swabs, poking one into his ear, not yet swishing it around. with the other hand, he reached for his toothbrush, squeezing a quick line of mint toothpaste across the bristles before jamming it into his mouth.

theo stepped back into his room, still brushing his teeth, however: he stopped dead in his tracks. the sight before him instinctively made him stumble back a step, his heel catching on the edge of the rug. the toothbrush slipped from the corner of his mouth, hanging awkwardly. “what ttthe—” he mumbled, his voice barely hearable through the toothpaste foam.

he spun around and rushed back into the bathroom. the faucet screeching as he turned it back on with clumsy fingers, quickly bringing his mouth down to gather water. he swished, then spat it out, gripping the sides of the sink to steady himself for a second before straightening up. his eyes searched his reflection in the mirror, as if to confirm he wasn’t losing his grip on reality. then he stepped back out into his room.

you were standing near the foot of his bed, wearing that dress, it looked even more stunning up close. one thin strap had slipped down your shoulder, exposing more skin that seemed intentional… or maybe it was intentional. you tilted your head slightly. “rude of me not to announce myself, i know,” it was the first time he'd heard your voice in a complete sentence, and he was already captivated by it. “but you were in the shower, and i didn’t want to interrupt.”

theo just stared at you, his brain struggling to catch up. he blinked once. then again. and again, expecting you to disappear like some strange dream.

his voice came out lower than usual, cracking embarrassingly. “where’s matt…heo?” his gaze darted briefly around the room, expecting his friend to appear from behind the curtain or the closet door. if you were here, then surely mattheo couldn’t be far behind.

“he actually sent me,” you said, lifting the keys you still had clutched awkwardly in your hand, as if they somehow validated your presence. “said you… uh… had condoms.” theo almost chuckled at how shy you got just saying the word condoms. sweet thing. if only you knew how much he had already seen, how much he had already imagined. his blue eyes dragged over you, barely suppressing the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“yeah?” he exhaled, turning away, crossing the room. his towel sat low on his hips, the damp fabric wrapped around the cut of his waist. every step he took made it shift dangerously. you stayed frozen by his bed, trying very hard not to look: failing miserably.

theo crouched down in front of his dresser, yanking open the bottom drawer. it creaked, revealing a mess of old things: wrinkled shirts, an empty box of mints, and underneath it all, a few leftover condoms from an ex-girlfriend.

he grabbed three without thinking, large hands checking the slim foil wrappers, and walked back toward you. the condoms dangled casually from his fingers as he extended his hand out: just close enough for you to reach. your hand was halfway there when theo snatched them back.

“you know how to put them on, right?” you lifted your gaze up at him through your lashes, lips parting slightly like you wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. and theo, all bare in front of you, save for the thin strip of towel slung dangerously low around his hips. the shape of him barely covered the way your thighs instinctively pressed together.

you shook your head. theo could’ve groaned at the sight. he already knew, obviously. knew you and mattheo didn’t use condoms, his best friend had always been stubborn about it, even back at school, bragging about how he hated the “killjoy” of it. the number of plan b boxes theo had seen mattheo toss into his bag over the years only confirmed it: it was even worse now that he had you.

regardless, knowing it was your birthday, theo was certain mattheo wasn’t going to stop at just one round. not a fuckin’ chance. shit, knowing his friend, he’d probably go as many rounds as the number you were turning, determined to fuck you until you couldn’t even remember how old you were.

these were mandatory.

“want me to show you?” theo asked, the words slipping out before he could think better of them. he knew. fuck, he knew — this could either go insanely wrong or exactly how he’d fantasized a hundred times in the guilty corners of his mind. the moment the question was said, your pretty lips parted, eyes blinking up at him with disbelief. theodore couldn’t blame you, your boyfriend’s best friend had just asked if you wanted him to show you how to put on a condom.

silence pulled between you. theo’s stomach twisted, a thread of doubt shredding through the daze of heat blurring his mind. he thought about taking it back, covering it up with a laugh, pretending it was a joke, anything to save face.

“yes,” you breathed. so sickly sure. the single word dip into him like a match to gasoline.

theo’s pulse pounded loud in his ears as he moved to sit on the edge of his bed. he ran a hand through his damp hair, pretending to be okay, but every nerve in his body was tickling. he gestured for you to sit beside him, hand loose in the air, but his entire body felt tense. you obeyed without hesitation, shy as you perched on the mattress next to him. so fucking obedient. so fucking tempting.

he let the towel fall from his hips with a flick of his fingers, letting it pool on the bed. your breath caught. fully bared in front of you, was theo’s dick: an angry red at the tip, straining up at full attention. all from the simple sight of you sitting there, looking so shy and sweet in that little dress mattheo had bought you.

you swallowed, throat bobbing with the effort. your body shifting almost unconsciously on the bed: thighs pressing together, hands clenching into the fabric of the comforter beneath you. you couldn’t stop looking at him, at all. that gorgeous, heavy heat standing between his hips. theo’s mouth tilted into a smile at your reaction, but his voice stayed rough around the edges, when he said, “don’t open it with your teeth. could accidentally rip it. then it won’t work.”

you nodded, completely focused on him. on what he was doing. on how he was doing it.

he tore the wrapper open with his hands, the foil crinkling. he plucked the condom from the packet, letting it spread slightly between his fingertips. “it’s a little wet,” theo murmured, his accent peaking through due to nerves. “you have make sure it doesn’t slip through your pretty little fingers.” the way he said it, your pretty little fingers, made your entire body hot. you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he lined the condom carefully with the head of his cock, making sure it was angled just right before slowly rolling it down.

the latex slapped onto his skin, catching every vein, every impossible inch that had you pressing your thighs even tighter together. “just like that.” you bit down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep from making some humiliating sound right there on the bed. your hands squeezed tighter in your lap, thighs trembling from the effort of staying still.

“can i… can i try?”

theo was about to nod, maybe crack a joke about grabbing a banana or something less dangerous, but you shook your head quickly, moving forward on the bed before lifting a manicured hand to stop him. “i mean… on you,” you said. “can i try… on you?”

theo genuinely thought he was on the verge of passing out. your words ricocheted around his mind, hitting every nerve. his heart was pounding so loud it was all he could hear, he wondered if you could hear it too. nott gobbled down his saliva, fingers a little shaky now as he grabbed one of the extra condoms from where he’d tossed them on the bed. his hand brushed yours when he passed it over, your manicured nails scratched slightly against the rough pads of his fingers as you took the foil packet from him.

he forced himself to move, peeling off the condom he’d already put on, tossed it into the small trashcan by his desk.

you tore open the foil carefully, trying not to rush, your bottom lip caught between your teeth in concentration. when you slid the condom out, you held it up between your fingers. “you weren’t wrong,” you said, giving him a shy glance from under your lashes. “it’s… really wet.”

his cock twitched, visibly, at the sound of your voice, at the sight of you sitting there so pretty. you turned slightly to face him, holding the condom between your fingers. theo had to clench his fists into the mattress to stop himself from reaching for you. you were so close now that the scent of your shampoo mixed with the smell of latex was starting to become theo’s new favorite scent.

he observed, almost in slow motion, as you lined the condom up with the tip of his dick, so carefully he found it cute. and started to roll it down over him.

the first brush of your nails against his cock had theo’s thighs tensing, an involuntary jerk of his hips that he quickly bit back. you were trying so hard to be gentle, to be careful, your eyes flickering up to his face every few seconds for approval. “like that?” you whisper, voice barely hearable over the ringing in his ears. you were so close that when you tilted your chin to look at him, the slightest movement brought your face right near his: breath sweet, brushing across the tip of his nose. theo thought he might actually lose his mind. his dick throbbed against your palm, and it took every control he had not to thrust into your hand and wreck every bit of innocence still in the room.

“just like that,” theo rasped. he cleared his throat roughly, trying to ground himself, to wrestle back the thin shred of control slipping through his fingers. he was about to hook a finger under the rolled latex and slide it off, end this insanity before it went any further. when your hand shot out and stopped him, fingers brushing his wrist.

“wait,” eyes wide and questioning, locked onto his. “what about… if it’s filled?” you asked, cheeks flushing at the bluntness of your own words. “how do i remove it without any of the… juices spilling inside me?”

thrown off by how sweetly filthy that question sounded coming from your mouth. theo licked his lips slowly, mind racing, what to do. because the images flashing behind his eyes were downright dirty. he should have just explained it easily — but instead a far darker thought came to mind a sick, sick thought. one he didn’t have the power to resist.

theo reached out, his fingers brushing along your bare shoulder where the strap of your dress had slipped down. he caught the strap between two fingers and lifted it gently, sliding it back into place, his knuckles skimming your heated skin in the process. the soft prickle raising across your skin in visible waves. his fingers stayed a second too long, memorizing the warmth radiating off your body, before he forced himself to pull away.

“i’d show you… but it’s more of a visual lesson.” a smile tugged at your mouth, and you leaned in, just enough that theo could see the lust in your eyes. “good thing i’m a visual learner.” the condom still slapped over his cock stretched as he grew even harder. something he hadn’t thought physically possible until now.

“oh, i believe you,” theo muttered, he nodded toward the two empty condom wrappers on the mattress, to show how very serious you both were taking this ‘lesson.’ he adjusted himself on the bed, settling more toward the middle to give you both more room. “let me just-” he started, reaching for himself, intending to stroke his cock and mimic how the condom would fill. however, before his fingers could even brush his hardened dick, you stopped him.

“i have a better idea,” you said, syrupy sweet. “to get the full experience.” theo blinked at you, confused, until you rose up from where you were sitting beside him. you swung a leg over him, straddling his hips, and his heart just about stopped.

the thin material of your underwear brushed over the sensitive head of his dick, and theo had to bite back a sound. a pathetic noise that scratched up his throat. he could already feel it, could already feel himself on the verge, and you hadn’t even taken him inside yet.

“always have to be sure…” theo’s voice weakened. you gave him a look, that sexy look and slipped your fingers down between your legs, hooking into the side of your panties. you dragged the fabric aside, exposing yourself to him, and theo’s mouth actually watered.

you reached between your bodies, your hand wrapping around the base of him. theodore nearly jolted at just that, your fingers, so warm wrapping around him. “for learning purposes,” you said softly, locking eyes with him. for learning purposes. you lifted yourself up a bit, lining him up with your entrance, and theo could barely believe this was real. he was finally going to touch you, finally going to make you feel so unbelievably good, just like he’d imagined far too many times. then slowly, soooo slowly, you started to sink down.

the head of his red, angry dick disappeared into the squishy walls inside you. theo whimpered instantly, an embarrassingly wrecked sound that slipped out through his nose and clenched teeth. this was the same position you’d been in when he watched you and mattheo through the window, your back to him, making his best friend fall apart under your touch. only now, you were on top of theo, and he could still smell your boyfriend on your skin. he could still smell mattheo on you.

he wasn’t sure which he loved more: the scent of you on mattheo… or the smell of mattheo left on you.

your palms laid flat against theo’s chest for balance, hips rolling in waves that had both of you gasping, lost in the feeling. his hands roamed your body, thumbs sweeping over the curve of your waist, the full bulge of your breasts. his hands traced lightly over the ink just beneath your right breast, the red cursive spelling angel against your skin.

what an angel, riding him like your boyfriend, his best friend, wasn’t just next door. throwing a party in your honor. “feel fuckin’ amazing…” theo breathed against your skin. “my best friend had all this to himself?” his words dissolve into kisses and biting sucks against your pierced nipples, leaving trails of swollen, purpled marks. you moaned, arching into him, shoving your breast deeper into his mouth. he groaned as he sucked around the metal, loving the taste he had only ever dreamed about. it was even better than he had imagined, shocking against his tongue.

even up close he could still taste the traces of your boyfriend’s cologne clinging to your skin. the thought should have disgusted him. however, it made him impossibly harder.

theo sits up, caging you against him in a bruising hold, his arms locking around your body so tightly you can barely breathe. he holds you there, crushing you to his chest as he thrusts up into you, giving you everything. your hands fly to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, dragging him even closer to your chest as he continued to drive into you.

“keep hitting right th—ugh…” your words broke off in a choked moan, the sentence dying on your tongue. theo didn’t need to hear the rest; he already knew. he obeyed immediately, adjusting the angle of his thrusts, jabbing into the spot inside you that made your body jolt. you tried to keep moving, hips grinding down against him in desperate circles, but every time the thick head of his cock nudged that sensitive spot: you faltered, legs trembling around his waist. theo caught you when you slumped forward, letting your head drop onto his shoulder as you whimpered. his arms curled around you, holding you steady while he kept thrusting up into you, meeting your weak movements halfway, guiding you through the waves of pleasure crashing over your body.

every breath you took fanned across his neck as you clung to him. you hadn’t even bothered warning him that you were about to come, you couldn’t find the words, and he didn’t need them anyway. he could feel it.

the way your walls sucked him in, squeezing him tighter. even through the condom, he could feel the rush of your release, dripping down all over his cock. theo cursed under his breath, losing his rhythm as his own orgasm hit, his body pushing against yours. hips lifting up into you one last time, deeper than before, as he spilled into the condom with a groan muffled against your shoulder.

for a while, neither of you moved, the only sounds in the room were your heavy breathing. theo pulled out of you, the latex still slapped against him gleaming with your juices. but instead of letting go, he wrapped his fingers tightly around the base of the condom. “first,” he said, voice still recovering from the aftershocks, “don’t just yank it out like you usually do.” he demonstrated, pinching the tip of the condom carefully between two fingers to trap the contents inside. “always pinch the tip,” he instructed, “or you’ll make a fuckin’ mess.”

“then,” theo murmured, eyes locked on yours, making sure you were paying attention. his fingers gripping the base of the condom, not letting a drop escape. “slowly roll it down,” he instructed. “keep your grip tight at the tip.”

you watched, still catching your breath, as he demonstrated for you: rolling the condom down his still softish cock inch by inch. you could see the way his knuckles tensed slightly with the control he forced himself to maintain, ensuring not a single drop spilled.

when the condom was finally off, theo pinched the tip again for extra caution, lifting it between two fingers. you caught a glimpse of it, full of everything he was going to pour into you. theo twisted the open end into a tight knot, sealing it shut before tossing it casually into the nearby trash can with a flick of his wrist.

only then did he turn back to you. your back sprawled out across his bed, hair wild against his dark sheets, skin covered in sweat. fat purple hickeys scattered down your neck, your chest, your thighs. theo stood for a moment, just drinking it in, the gorgeous sight of you, the mess of you. the way you looked destroyed and beautiful under his touch. part of him, a greedy part, wanted to take a picture, to keep you like this forever, ruined by him with the scent of his best friend on you.

instead however, he let himself hover over you, one hand brushing your cheek. “happy birthday, by the way,” voice almost too soft for what they’d just done.

he lowers himself, mouth trailing a path down your throat, across your collarbone, tongue lapping up the thin sweat he left behind. you exhale through your nose, blinking down at him through post-orgasmic daze. “you’re obsessed,” you whisper, voice wrecked.

“of fuckin’ course i am,” he mutters, almost resentful, like somehow it’s your fault he’s like this. when his mouth reaches the curve of your breast. he stops, catching on the silver piercing on the tender peak. “fuck…” he breathes. his mouth falls open, tongue flicking over the metal before he seals his lips around it, sucking it into the heat of his mouth. his free hand cups your other breast, thumb rolling over the second pierced nipple, the barbell clicking under the pressure.

he devours your chest, leaving trails of saliva and bruises like signatures across your skin. dark red and purple marks blush over the soft bump of your breasts, around the delicate piercings, down to the fragile skin just above your ribs.

you sink your nails into his hair, yanking sharply when the overstimulation becomes too much. he looks up at you then, lips all swollen. “now go show my best friend everything i just taught you.”

[nottslove]

—SPORTS MANAGERS!MATTHEODORE X TENNIS PLAYER!READER

WARNING: 18+, forced proximity, forbidden relationships, not for minors.

—SPORTS MANAGER! MATTHEO and SPORTS MANAGER! THEO who have been enemies since they both entered their respective careers.

—SPORTS MANAGER! MATTHEO and SPORTS MANAGER! THEO who are at each other's throats constantly, trying to sabotage each other and trying to get you to sign with them.

—SPORTS MANAGER! MATTHEO and SPORTS MANAGER! THEO who are well aware of the fact that you are one of the most famous tennis players in the world, a rising star, and the benefits of being your sports manager, thus fighting for your attention, trying to convince you that the other will ruin your public image.

—SPORTS MANAGER! MATTHEO and SPORTS MANAGER! THEO who try to prevent you from signing with the other, and often try to control every single thing you do.

—SPORTS MANAGER! MATTHEO and SPORTS MANAGER! THEO who despite being two of the best managers in the country, are both only in it for the money until they somehow find themselves sexually attracted to you.

i don't know if this au makes sense to y'all, it makes sense to me... i don't know if i did a good job of trying to portray what is in my mind...

please leave a comment, heart and follow. thanks.

this au is an original, please do not copy/steal/use.

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©nottslove 2025. do not copy, steal or claim any works/graphics as your own.

[nottsangel]

I wanna fuck Mattheo and Theo at the same time.Like I wanna be top and make them moan.

wait omg…….. let’s talk about this. forget both of them dominating you. forget you begging for their attention. begging them to make you cum. NUH UH the roles are reversed now. can u imagine how cute they’d look? lying on your bed, cocks painfully hard and leaking at the tip, both of them just so needy for you. you’re relishing the way they’re staring at you with desperate, glassy eyes, biting down on their lower lip so hard from frustration, they’re drawing blood from the delicate skin. it’s probably the best sight you’ve ever seen— mattheo and theo, two men notorious for treating girls like nothing more than objects for them to use, on your bed like pathetic losers? whimpering and pleading for your touch? god, you can’t help but smile darkly at them, thinking hard about who you’ll tease—or torture—first until they’re a crying mess.

[suugarbabe]

[6 DRINK MATTHEO]

summary: it's always a good time when you're drinking with mattheo; you never know what or who you're gonna get ; mattheo x theo, enzo x reader, poly!slytherin boys if you squint

warnings: mentions of drinking, parties, the likes

an: reader is mostly a side character but is involved with most of the story; you get a lot of theo and matty for this; thank you to my love my life my baby @musingsofahufflepuff for the drink dividers (hubby so talented)

There was a buzz all around the great hall, and for good reason, too. This mornings matchup on the quidditch pitch between Slytherin and Gryffindor was a big one…and Slytherin came out on top. 

Much of this win was thanks to Mattheo and his friends (who all very much dominate in every game they participate in). With Theo as chaser, the game was barely going for two minutes before he scored their first goal. 

Berkshire as keeper made it nearly impossible for anyone on the Gryffindor team to catch up. But the real kicker was how Mattheo performed today. 

As a beater, typically his job is just to keep the bludgers away from his chasers (Theo in particular). But Mattheo had a bit of a different objective today.

While he did his usual duty, using all his ab and lower body strength to steady himself on his broom he was swinging his bat with all his strength; any chance he got he aimed the large, charmed iron balls towards another target. 

It was perfect timing, too. Potter was hot on the snitches tail (and Draco hot on Potters). Mattheo eyed the bludger heading toward Theo and accelerated in that direction. With near perfect precision, Mattheo swung with professional connection, sending the bludger zipping towards the raven haired boy. 

The bludger connected with the tail end of Potter's broom. The sheer force sending Harry down toward the ground and giving Draco ample time to grab the snitch and assist in securing the win and ending the game officially. 

Which leads to now. Mattheo, Theo and the rest of the team itching to get to the common room and start partying in celebration. Enzo was all but shoveling food into his gob to ‘line his stomach so he could drink more’.

“That’s kinda disgusting, Berk. Very sloppy. You look like a elefante.”

“Elephant,” Mattheo translated the Italian for Enzo; something he’s grown habit to do for Theo but he couldn’t tell you when it started or when he picked up on so much of the language. 

As expected, Enzo ignored them both. Once dinner was officially over, the majority of fifth, sixth and seventh year students (with the exception of most Gryffindors) made their way down to the dungeons for what was sure to be “an incredibly epic party” to quote Enzo. 

To “ensure it’s epicness” (Enzo again), he insisted on the three of them waiting back before going down to the party. However, it was only five minutes in before Mattheo was getting antsy, “Screw this, I need a drink.” 

The cup’s cold in his hand and the alcohol is smooth down his throat and instantly Mattheo feels ten times more relaxed than he did at dinner. It typically happens that way. 

He always gets a bit jittery before a party, but as soon as he gets there he knows he just needs a drink and everything will calm down in his mind again. Matty has contributed this correlation to the fact that most parties happen after a quidditch match. And even if he’s not the one playing, just the intensity of the game gets his adrenaline going. 

After another sip, Matty lets out a long sigh of relief. “Relaxed?” Theo gives him a knowing smile and a nudge with his elbow. Mattheo nods in content, “Yup. Finally.” 

“Ever think maybe you have a problem if you need a drink to relax, mate,” Enzo playfully jabs at his friend. Mattheo then watched as Enzo swirled his tongue along the inside of the small plastic container to loosen his third jello-shot in twenty minutes. 

Mattheo flicked the bottom of the shot, causing the contents to slip through Enzo’s finger and land instead on the common room rug. “No, my shot!” Enzo whined, Mattheo and Theo rolled their eyes. 

The pair left Enzo searching for a replacement while they found solace on a sofa. Theo leaned back against the couch, digging in his pocket to for his usual party favor, “Enzo ruin your relaxation?” Mattheo shook his head, taking another long sip of his drink, “I’m good. Think I’m gonna go grab another though. Be right back.” 

When Mattheo didn’t return after ten minutes, Theo stubbed out his spliff and willed himself off the couch to go and find him. Before his eyes could locate a dark mop of curls he heard it. The slightly high pitched, almost hidden giggle made Theo’s ears perk up. 

Turning towards the sound, he made his way towards the drink table where he saw Mattheo standing with you and Enzo. His bottom lip was tucked into his teeth as he held his cup in front of his mouth; obviously trying to suppress another giggle. 

You, on the other hand, were eating it up. Theo was sure whatever story you were telling wasn’t even that funny; but Mattheo had a second drink in him so therefore everything was more humorous. 

As Theo approached the three of you, you turned to him with a beaming smile, “Hi, Teddy. Did you know I’m hilarious?” 

Theo raised his eyebrows and gave you an unimpressed look, “Sure, tesoro.” You gave a slight pout, only for Enzo to sling an arm over your shoulders, “S’alright, lovie. You’re proper funny.” Your smile returned and Theo turned to Matty instead. 

“Gonna tell me what’s so funny?” Theo couldn’t suppress his own smile any longer. Not when Mattheo was grinning so big that the corners of his eyes were crinkling. Theo decided that Matty had a really nice smile. 

“Enzo brought up the prank we played on Draco a couple months ago, when we..” Matty’s shoulders shook slightly as he couldn’t contain his laughter, “when we charmed his hair Gryffindor red and convinced everyone not to say anything until lunch.” 

Theo nodded, not being able to hold his own laughter in as he recalled the memory, “He was ready to avada you, Matt.” 

Mattheo was wiping tears from his eyes, chugging what was left in his cup before turning around to fill it once more. 

Theo had made a mistake. If you asked him, though, he’d say he was ‘lured away by a hufflepuff making him an offer he couldn’t refuse’. 

Normally free weed from a badger trying to get on his good side wasn’t a problem. It’s what he came back to that make him realize his timing was rather poor. 

Just as he breached the small crowd of people forming near the back corner of the common room, he saw Mattheo take a long chug of merlin knows what before handing you his cup to hold. 

Theo watched as Mattheo got into a slightly crouched position, hands at the ready in front of him like he was about to wrestle. Across from Matty was a Ravenclaw that had a tendency to run his mouth. 

Theo grabbed Mattheo’s cup from your grasp, catching your attention. “You’re just in time,” your eyes were looking a little hazy, but they sparkled with a bit of mischief. 

“Perfetto, what’s happening then, hmm?” Theo took a sniff of Mattheo’s cup, giving a shrug and a head tilt before downing its contents. 

“Abraxas said Matty’s lost his touch. That now-a-day’s he’s more bark than bite. Matty didn’t like that, said he’d be able to wrestle Brax to the ground in two minutes flat,” you were clearly enjoying the situation. 

Theo started counting how many drinks he’d seen Mattheo have so far. Four. He nodded his head, confirming that Matty’s current behavior now made total sense.Theo decided to not intervene. Yet. 

It had been a while since Matty had gotten into a proper fight. Not necessarily due to him not getting angry; but the rest of the group had figured out ways to distract or deter him from seeing red. Theo figured he’d let him have a little fun. 

Mattheo did manage to wrestle Brax to the ground pretty quickly; however, drunk Mattheo tends to be extremely poor at realizing how drunk he is. Hence why Brax was then able to flip them both over, seemingly taking charge. 

Drunk Matty was having none of it, pushing and flinging limbs until he was nearly free from Brax’s hold. Very easily did Mattheo ignore the ‘bloody fuck’ that left Enzo’s lips when he got kicked in the shin. You did warn him not to get too close. 

After a bit of a stalemate, the crowd started to chant for their respective prospect. “Mattheo, Mattheo!” and “Brax Brax Brax!” started to get louder, and truly it was ruining Theo’s buzz. 

So if he happened to send a slipping jinx Brax’s way, just so Mattheo could get him in a chokehold and Brax to tap out; if no one witnessed it then no harm was done. Right?

Mattheo stood, pumping his arms in the air victorious. Enzo let his earlier injury be forgotten as he slapped Matty on the back, “Atta boy, now let’s get you a celebratory drink, shall we?” 

You did your best to hold your drink steady in one hand while patting Mattheo’s back with the other. “Really, Mattheo, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s not mad at all…right, Enzie?” You gave Enzo the sterndess look you could muster in your tipsy state without giggling. 

Mattheo sipped his drink after lifting his head from your shoulder, wiping fallen tears from his cheeks as he looked over to Enzo on the other side of the couch. 

Enzo stuttered over his words, “Y-yeah, mate. S’alright, I, erm, I don’t even remember you kicking me hard as shit twenty minutes ago. S’fine!” Enzo scratched the back of his neck, giving an awkward smile. 

Thankfully, Matty bought it, “R-really? ‘Cause,” he sniffled, bottom lip wobbling, “I-I’m so sorry, Enzo. Y-you mean so much to me, I-I’d never hurt you on p-purpose.” 

You could see the tears brimming again as you moved your hands in soothing circles on his back, “And you mean so much to Enz, too. Isn’t that right?” You glared at Enzo for a response. 

“Oh, erm, yeah..yeah mate, you mean loads to me,” Enzo gave a quick tap to Matty’s knee. 

Theo walked up to this scene, four shots held between his fingers, “Here.” He handed the small glass of clear liquor to each of you. You rolled your eyes, “Theo. Not really the time,” you motioned your eyes and tilted your head slightly towards Mattheo, “someone is having a moment.” 

It was Theo’s turn to roll his eyes, “Yes, yes. I know. Here Matty, take it.” Ever the obedient one when it came to Theo, he took the shot glass. 

“Drink,” Theo nodded, “I cannot take your wet eyes any longer, Matty mio caro.” 

You huffed, but raised your glass nonetheless to clink against the others before tapping it on the table and shooting it back, everyone else following the same routine. As the alcohol made its way down your throat you shuddered. 

Matty, though, gave a final wipe of his eyes before a smile then plastered on his face, “Mmm, tequila. How did you know, Teddy?” 

You and Enzo exchanged a look, waiting for Theo to complain about the use of the pet name, only to be disappointed when he actually smiled. 

“Because I know my Mattheo. Now let’s get off this couch,” Theo grabbed hold of Matty by both wrists and pulled him to stand before slinging an arm over his shoulder. Enzo was quick to follow, “Wait for me!” 

With the tequila now in his system, Mattheo seemingly forgot whatever it was that he was upset with some fifteen minutes earlier. You watched as he and Enzo seemed to be conspiring together across the room. 

You leaned closer to Theo, “What do you think they’re up to?” Theo’s eyes met yours briefly, “I do not know, but it seems supiscious.” Your brows furrowed momentarily, “Do you mean suspicious?” 

Theo waved off your correction, turning back to the last spot he saw the two trouble makers only to not find them at all. His head was on a swivel, eyes scanning the room for a mop of curls or messy brown hair but continuously coming up short. 

“Do you see?” Theo asked a half sentence, but it didn’t matter as you fully understood. “I can’t find them either.” 

In that moment, you heard a row of people grunt, gasp or seem startled and shocked. Then you saw it; a very excited but stumbly German Shepherd being chased by a continuously tripping and falling Aussie. 

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you turned to Theo eyes wide and slightly panicking. Theo seemed to only be able to stare in the direction they went before shaking his head and wiping his hands over his face. 

“Okay, you go for Enzo, I go for Matty.” And with that, the two of you split off. 

Mattheo proved slightly ornery while drunkenly in his animagus form. But Theo thanks the many drinks Matty had for making it much easier to sneak up on the German Shepherd and wrap his long arms around its middle. 

He walked a whining puppy Mattheo towards the dorm room path, setting him down only once past the dorm door just as you entered with Aussie Enzo who’s back paws were definitely dragging along the floor, causing you to stumble slightly with every other step. 

Once both were released, you looked positively peeved, hands firm on your hips and mouth open, ready to scold only to be cut off by a slew of Italian shouting. 

“Cosa pensi di fare? Hai perso la testa? Torna indietro subito. Subito! Sei fortunato che siano tutti ubriachi fradici!”

Both Enzo and Matty’s puppy ears folded back; the two of them slowly starting to lay down submissively and whine slightly. You weren’t sure what Theo was saying exactly, but you knew they were not going to try this again the rest of the night. 

After their Italian reprimand, both Enzo and Mattheo found themselves one last drink. Mattheo would be lying if said he wasn’t feeling it; the range of emotions and amount of liquor was starting to weigh on him. 

He looked from Theo to you to Enzo, then to Theo again and his heart just felt so…full. All he could think about was needing to show his affections. 

Mattheo turned to Enzo, tugging the sleeve of his shirt, “Enz…Enzo look at me.” Heavy lidded eyes met Matty’s with a lazy smile, “Hmm?”

“I love you, mate,” Matty grabbed Enzo’s face and gave him a loud, smacking smooch on the cheek. 

Mattheo ignored the confused speechlessness on Enzo’s face and instead turned to you. “And I love you, babe,” He leaned down, lips pressing heavily against your forehead. You hummed in acknowledgement, “I love you too, Matty.”

When Mattheo turned to Theo, the latter willed his cheeks not to flush to dark a shade of pink. He braced himself for the Matty love fest about to happen, only to feel his pulse quicken when Mattheo laced his fingers behind Theo’s neck, thumbs tracing lazily along his jawline. 

“And you..” Mattheo leaned in a little closer to whisper in Theo’s ear, “You’re my favorite, Teddy. But promise not to tell the other’s okay?” 

Theo nodded with a nervous smile just before Mattheo’s lips landed on his own. His breath hitched before pulling away, “Alriiight, bedtime for Matty, yes?” 

Mattheo nodded, allowing Theo to guide him towards the dorms. Theo heavily ignoring the taunts and cheers from you and Enzo on the way.

[riddlesrizzler]

The Winner Takes it All

summary: The winner takes it all, the loser standing small. Beside the victory, that's her destiny characters: mattheo riddle. theodore nott. reader warnings: none, hurts more if you play the song with it. word count: 2.3k

The great halls of Hogwarts had seen many things-duels fought in whispered shadows, friendships forged and broken, love lost in the echoing corridors.

But perhaps the cruelest thing it had ever witnessed was the silent war between two best friends-two boys bound by brotherhood, torn apart by something neither could control.

You.

It hadn’t started as a war, not at first.

No, it had been innocent, almost laughable, the way Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott found themselves drawn to the same girl. You, with your sharp wit and quiet kindness, your ability to hold your own in a fight yet soften in the right moments. You, who never played games, who never sought attention-yet had captured the affections of two boys who had spent their entire lives learning not to feel too much.

They had been inseparable once, Theo and Mattheo.

Two sides of the same coin, one reckless and wild, the other composed and calculating. Mattheo was the storm, the roaring thunder that turned heads when he entered a room, the chaos that made life feel like an adventure. Theo was the calm, the steady voice of reason, the silent presence in the corner who saw everything.

And you-you-had become the thing that fractured them.

It started small.

Mattheo would sit closer to you in the common room, stretching an arm over the back of the sofa, fingers dangerously close to your shoulder. Theo would smirk, lean forward with some sarcastic remark that made you laugh, and Mattheo would scowl because his moment had been stolen.

Mattheo would walk you to class, bumping his shoulder against yours in a playful nudge. Theo would conveniently be waiting outside, already carrying an extra book he knew you had forgotten.

Mattheo would whisper something teasing, something just bordering on flirtation, but before it could settle in your mind, Theo would murmur something real, something that made your breath hitch, and suddenly, Mattheo's words felt like smoke-forgotten before they even had the chance to catch fire.

He hated it. He hated the way you looked at Theo, the way your eyes softened when you spoke to him. Hated the way Theo never tried, yet had everything Mattheo wanted. But he wasn’t going to give up.

-

One evening, by the Black Lake, the three of you sat together, the sky stretching endlessly above. The water shimmered beneath the moonlight, a quiet witness to the war waging between Mattheo and Theo.

Mattheo was spinning his wand between his fingers, eyes flickering between you and Theo. He had a plan tonight. He would finally say something, finally make you see him.

But then-Theo beat him to it.

“You ever think about what comes after all this?” Theo asked, lying back in the grass, arms crossed behind his head.

You hummed. “After Hogwarts?”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing at you. “After all the expectations. After we all move on. What do you want?”

Mattheo tensed.

You were quiet for a moment before answering. “I just want… something real. A life where I don’t have to prove myself to anyone. Where I can just… be.”

Theo smiled slightly. “That sounds nice.”

Something in the air shifted. Mattheo saw the way you looked at Theo. The way your fingers brushed the grass near his hand, the way your eyes lingered a second too long. And for the first time, Mattheo realized.

He was losing you.

-

It was a cold evening in the common room, the fire crackling quietly as shadows stretched across the stone walls. The tension between Mattheo and Theo had been building for weeks now, simmering just beneath the surface of their friendship.

But tonight, it was different. There was no longer any pretending, no more veils of politeness.

Mattheo leaned against the wall, his jaw clenched tight as he watched you and Theo laughing at something private-something he wasn’t a part of. You looked radiant in the soft glow of the firelight, your eyes sparkling as you listened to whatever witty comment Theo had just made. You had always been beautiful to him, but now, it was as if a sharp ache had taken root in his chest every time he looked at you. You weren’t his anymore.

He couldn’t ignore it any longer.

"Can we talk?" Mattheo’s voice broke through the low murmur of the room, his tone cold and edged with barely contained anger.

You blinked, surprised by the sudden intrusion. "Yeah, sure," you said softly, standing up and walking toward him. But before you could reach him, Theo stood abruptly, cutting in between the two of you.

"What’s this about?" Theo asked, his voice smooth but with an underlying challenge, his eyes narrowing at Mattheo.

"Stay out of this, Theo," Mattheo growled, his fists clenching at his sides. "This doesn’t concern you."

But Theo wasn’t backing down. "No, it does concern me. I’m not going to let you make this harder than it needs to be."

Mattheo’s nostrils flared, frustration bubbling over. He stepped closer to Theo, their faces mere inches apart now, their tension so thick it was almost palpable.

"You think I’m just going to let you steal her from me, Theo?" Mattheo hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "You’ve always had it easy. You don’t even have to try, and she’s already looking at you like you’re the answer to everything. While I-"

He stopped, realizing the words were spilling out in a way that made him seem weaker than he wanted to appear. His pride was taking a hit, and he hated it.

Theo’s face remained calm, but his words were sharp. "You think I want this? Do you think I want to feel like this about her when I know what it’s doing to you? But I can’t help it. She makes me feel things, things I never thought I’d feel."

His voice softened slightly as he glanced back at you. "You know I’m not doing this to hurt you, Mattheo. You know how I feel about you. You’re my best friend. But I’m not going to stop."

Mattheo’s gaze flickered toward you, and for a moment, he saw the faint sadness in your eyes-the pain that mirrored his own. You stood there, torn between the two of them, your face conflicted. It was a look he had seen countless times, but now it felt different.

It felt final.

Mattheo stepped back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Don’t you get it, Theo?" he spat, his voice raw with emotion. "I’ve spent so long being the one who doesn’t care, being the one who has everything under control. But for her? I-"

He faltered, feeling something break inside of him. "I can’t even explain it. She’s everything to me, and I’m losing her to you."

Theo’s face softened then, just for a moment. He looked at Mattheo, his expression a mix of regret and understanding. "I know you care, Mattheo. I can see it in your eyes every time you look at her. You’ve always been the one to take the spotlight. You’ve always been the one people notice. But she sees me, Mattheo. She sees something in me that she doesn’t see in you. And I don’t want to lose that."

A long silence passed between them. The air was thick with the unspoken words, with the weight of years of friendship and rivalry. Mattheo wanted to scream, to shout at Theo, to throw punches until the pain in his chest was gone. But he knew it wouldn’t change anything. He was losing. And Theo wasn’t the enemy here. Not anymore.

Finally, Mattheo looked at you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in what felt like ages. Your gaze was sad, hurt even, but there was a resignation there, something that told him you had already made up your mind.

"She’s yours, Theo," Mattheo said bitterly, the words leaving his lips like a curse.

Theo didn’t say anything in return. Instead, he reached out to gently place a hand on your shoulder, guiding you back toward the sofa.

Mattheo watched as you sat next to Theo, your hands brushing against each other, and in that moment, he felt something inside of him die. It wasn’t just the end of a relationship; it was the end of a dream. The dream he had held onto for so long, the one where he could be the one to sweep you off your feet, the one to make you smile in ways no one else could.

But now, that dream was gone. And all he had left was the bitter taste of defeat.

As Theo leaned in, whispering something in your ear that made you smile, Mattheo turned and walked away, the weight of his broken heart dragging him down with every step.

He didn’t look back.

And the realization burned. It spread like poison through his veins, filling his lungs with a suffocating weight he couldn't shake. He had spent years honing the ability to act as if nothing could touch him, to wear his arrogance like armor, but now, he felt exposed.

Vulnerable.

He wanted to rip the feeling out of his chest and crush it beneath his heel, but it was useless. Because this wasn’t something he could fight. This wasn’t an opponent he could outmaneuver or a battle he could win through sheer force of will. This was fate, cruel and inescapable, slipping through his fingers like sand no matter how tightly he clenched his fists.

It wasn’t long before the truth became undeniable. The day you and Theo became something more, Mattheo already knew before anyone told him. He saw it in the way you leaned into Theo’s touch, in the way Theo’s gaze softened whenever he looked at you. He had lost. You were standing with Theo in the courtyard, your laughter like the sweetest sound in the world-except it wasn’t for him.

It was never going to be for him.

-

“Mate,” Theo’s voice was careful when he approached Mattheo later that evening. “I-”

Mattheo let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t.”

Theo sighed. “I didn’t mean for this to happen-”

“But it did.”

Silence.

Theo looked down, guilt shadowing his features. “I love her, Mattheo.”

Mattheo’s heart clenched. Because so did he. But it didn’t matter anymore.

“The winner takes it all, huh?” Mattheo muttered, voice hollow.

Theo didn’t respond. There was nothing left to say.

-

That night, Mattheo sat alone in the common room, staring into the dying embers of the fire. His hands clenched into fists, his mind replaying every moment-every laugh, every touch, every chance he had missed. He had thought love was something you could fight for. But he understood now.

Love was a game.

And the loser had to fall.

The ache settled deep in his chest, an emptiness that no amount of arrogance could fill. He had always been the reckless one, the one who didn't care, who played with hearts as if they were inconsequential. But now, as he sat in the dim light of the fire, he knew the truth.

He had never truly wanted anyone until you. And now, he would never have you.

The thought haunted him, twisting and curling in the darkest corners of his mind. He imagined a different outcome, one where he had spoken first, where you had seen him the way you saw Theo. But even in his most desperate dreams, the reality remained unchanged.

He was not the choice. He was not the one who made you feel safe, the one who made you dream of something real.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat, running a hand through his hair, frustration boiling beneath his skin. How had he let this happen? How had he let himself fall so completely, only to be left with nothing?

He exhaled sharply and stood, forcing himself to walk away from the fire, from the memories that taunted him. He would be fine. He had always been fine.

But as he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, he knew that was a lie.

Because losing you wasn’t something he could just walk away from.

And maybe he never would.

[thatdesigirl17]

vampire!mattheodore at the year end slytherin party

warnings: kinda dark, slight dubcon, kissing, bloodsucking, intoxication, slight blood kink, vampires

It was the time of the infamous Slytherin end-of-year party, notorious for its alcohol, drugs, and poor judgment. You had been at the party for a few hours after it started, and now it was at its peak, where almost everyone was high or drunk, and no one cared about anything else happening around them. People were dancing, making out, humping, smoking and doing all kinds of shit without a care in the world. That is why his party was a job for the Slytherins the most cunning and clever of them all with the most connections to get all the resources.

You were dancing with your friends, and the effect of the alcohol and weed was evident in you and your group. ‘I’m gonna go get something to drink.’, you shouted at your friend, making sure she heard you over the music. You headed towards the bar wanting to get some water and relax a bit.

‘Hey love.’, a very accented voice said, making you turn around to find Theodore Nott, smirking at you. ‘Hey Theo.’, you smiled politely. You knew Theodore, hell everyone knew Theodore, but you’d never actually talked to him despite the normal conversations between classmates. You’d known enough about him to maintain distance. ‘Didn’t expect you to be here, not really your scene isn’t it?’, he said, his smirk widening as he nonchalantly moved closer to you, without you noticing. But of course, he knew you were there, he had been noticing you since you entered with your friends, keeping track. You scoffed, ‘You make me sound like a nerd or like an innocent good girl.’ ‘You’re telling me you aren’t?’, he said leaving closer, his eyes piercing into yours. ‘Not at all.’, you smirked, the effects of the intoxication giving you confidence. ‘Then why the fuck are you drinking water?’, he chuckled, the sound edged with darkness. You laughed back, ‘Just wanted to take a break.’ ‘Oh come on, it’s a party, cara, let’s get you something stronger.’, he smiled as he made you a drink that was a bit too strong for you. You accepted it nonetheless, sipping it as you continued to talk.

Soon after another drink, you found yourself on the dance floor again, your arms wrapped around Theo’s shoulders and your body pressed too close to his. Behind you, was Mattheo, your best friend who had also joined the conversation soon after your first drink. Mattheo had his arms around your waist and you felt the trace of his lips on your neck. You leaned into him, as Theo gripped your hands, pinning one to your side and the other still wrapped around him. His grip felt harsh, almost hurting, but it was replaced by a sharper pain on your neck, where Mattheo’s lips were touching you softly just a few moments before. You gasped, but before you could get louder, Theodore’s lips crashed on yours, drowning your sounds. You were unable to move, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

Soon Theo broke the kiss and brought your wrist to his lips, kissing it gently while smiling darkly at your confused expression. Then you saw it, his eyes turning red as he bit into your wrist and sucked. You widened your eyes in terror but before you could react, Mattheo turned your face towards his, holding your jaw and kissing you. You felt it, the metallic taste of your blood on his lips. You felt shivers in your body, wanting to break free, but you felt too lightheaded, too weak.

They knew it was a risk, doing this out in the open, without compelling or using any spell, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to suspect them. Everyone was way too intoxicated to care about them and by this time, they had mastered the act. To everyone else, it looked like they were just hooking up with the same girl and everyone was indifferent. It was them who got a different kind of high from feeding off you in a public space, so openly, without any magic. They couldn’t help it, you looked too good, they knew they had to get a taste, they dreamt of how good your taste was and you were being so cooperative and pliant.

You felt Mattheo’s lips move down to your neck again, kissing you as his hand moved around your thigh, stroking your folds over the damp spot of the clothing, under your dress. You gasped looking at Theo who let go of your wrist and licked the remnants of your blood off his lips before leaning closer to your ear, ‘You’re such a good girl, cara.’ He chuckled darkly, before trailing kisses down your neck. ‘Such a good, pliant girl for us, you’re doing so well, darling.’, Mattheo praised, making you moan.

They were absolutely hooked, and now that they had a taste of you, they knew they wouldn’t be able to stop.

[leeny-leens]

Funfact about my poly!Mattheodore dynamic! Theyre largely inspired by this couple (throuple??) i know who are so fucking funny and also super iconic mainly because theyre just accessory bf x fashion icon gf x accessory bf?? Like she’s super into fashion, the two of them not that much ig and she just takes it upon herself to coordinate their fits to accentuate and accessorise her own outfits and the both of them are sooooo chill with it

[nottswitch]

guys, i found something in my drafts that i completely forgot about… mattheodore smut that i started months ago but never got to finish… well, not even started, really, because i just wrote one scene that’s supposed to be somewhere in the middle. here’s one paragraph from that scene, pls tell me if i should finish this thing at all (smut under the cut!!!)

you can feel mattheo kneeling down behind you, his warm breath ghosting over your skin from the nape of your neck all the way down to your lower back. his usually strong hands are unnaturally gentle while kneading the supple flesh of your flushed ass, still pleasantly stinging from his own slaps. you can’t see it, your eyes hungrily devouring theo’s parted lips in front of you, but mattheo’s gaze is firmly fixed on the pink jewel resting between your asscheeks and digging into the skin around it.

you let out a whimper as you feel the buttplug sliding out of you, the sensation coupled with theo’s slow thrusts making your head a bit dizzy already. you know that your hole won't stay empty for long, but the feeling of nothing there after a whole day of being stuffed makes it desperately clench.

[wrting-w-luv]

Hello My tumblr girlies!!

I'm new to writing but I kinda wanna start making shit for the Slytherin Boys so should I???

But idk what else to writr i might just start headcannons just let me know!!

[wolfies-writings]

Masterlist

Smut: ᯓ★, fluff: ᥫ᭡.

Slytherin Boys:

-Mattheodore:

Three’s company ᥫ᭡.

-Theodore Nott:

________

-Lorenzo Berkshire:

Doorman!Enzo au

Repair shop owner!Enzo au

-Mattheo Riddle:

________

[heavenlybodies333]

I’ll be a Good Girl in Hell - M.R. & T.N

part 1 here

good things come in threes—especially you

The shower was supposed to help.

Steam curled around you, hot water cascading down your spine, but it did nothing to erase the evidence Mattheo had left behind—dark bruises painting your throat, your collarbones, the swell of your breasts. You cursed under your breath, fingers pressing into the sore marks in a feeble attempt to rub them away. Needed to cover this shit up before Theo saw. You hadn’t meant to drop that truth on Mattheo like that.

The smugness in his face when he thought he was your first, the cocky little smirk like he’d won something, only for you to completely shatter his ego. His face had shifted in real-time, it had been fucking priceless. You wished you had a Pensieve to relive it over and over.

You pulled your towel tighter around yourself and leaned closer to the mirror, dabbing concealer over the worst of it. It wasn’t enough. Fuck. You were already late to breakfast as it was, Enzo was probably just now rolling out of bed, but at least he didn’t have to worry about being hunted for sport first thing in the morning.

Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, Mattheo was in the middle of a different kind of hell.

Mattheo sat stiffly, forcing himself to focus on his food while across from him, Theo and Draco were locked in some intense Quidditch strategy debate. Blaise was muttering something about fucking Chasers, and Enzo was running late—probably just waking up now, the lazy bastard.

But Mattheo barely heard any of it. His mind was elsewhere.

More specifically?

He was thinking about you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist. Your nails digging into his skin. The sounds you made, the way you came apart for him—

And that fucking bombshell you dropped after.

"Did you really think I’d lose my virginity to you?"

His jaw ticked. Because the answer was yes. He had thought that. You sold it perfectly—the hesitation, the wide eyes, the fucking tightness—but you hadn’t. You’d already lost it to Theo.

And Mattheo had to sit across from him right now and act normal.

Fuck.

"Oi, you get laid last night?"

Mattheo’s fork froze mid-air.

Theo’s voice was casual, teasing, like it was just another morning, just another question. His sharp gaze flicked down to Mattheo’s collar—where, fuck, maybe a little bruise was peeking out—and then he smirked down at his plate, laughing as he loaded on more food.

Mattheo forced himself to relax, to breathe, to fucking play it cool.

He rolled his shoulders back, feigning nonchalance. "Some Slytherin legacy," he lied smoothly. "Sixth year. I forgot her name."

Theo snorted, "Merlin, must’ve been some girl if she’s got your neck looking like that."

Mattheo needed to redirect. He needed to know.

"So," he started, voice casual. "She’s really a virgin?"

Theo arched a brow, chewing thoughtfully. Then, after swallowing, he shook his head, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Nah," he said, tone smug. "Her and I were each other’s firsts."

And just like that, Mattheo felt his stomach drop.

Fuck. He had known the answer. You had told him. But hearing it from Theo’s mouth? That was something else.

And Theo knew it.

Satisfaction gleamed in his sharp eyes as he leaned back, clearly relishing the moment, clearly enjoying the way Mattheo’s jaw ticked.

"She was so wet," Theo continued, voice dipping into something almost reminiscent, smug and taunting. "When I ate her out, she does this thing—" he exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "She’ll try to push you away as soon as she’s about to cum. So fucking hot."

Mattheo gripped his fork tighter.

Blaise let out a low chuckle. "mate, you’re gonna make Riddle choke on his food."

Draco snorted and Theo just smirked.

"Nah, he’s good," he said, eyes still on Mattheo, reading everything in his expression.

But Mattheo forced his face into neutrality, kept his lips curled into a mocking smirk, as if he wasn’t internally seething.

"She can cum more than once, too," Theo continued, taking a bite. "First time we fucked—"

Mattheo froze.

First time?

So it wasn’t just a one-time thing?

Oh, fuck that.

Theo was still talking, oblivious to the way Mattheo’s eye twitched. "Didn’t last long—first time and all—but mate, the time after that? And after that?" Theo let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "She can last all night."

Mattheo clenched his jaw, forcing himself to smirk, forcing himself to nod, to act like he wasn’t visualizing slamming Theo’s face into the fucking table.

That comment. That fucking comment.

Because last night, you had looked him dead in the eye and laughed, mean and pretty, and said—Next time, try lasting longer. And now? Now he knew.

It had been Theo.

And not just once.

Fucking multiple times.

Mattheo forced himself to exhale, to calm the fuck down. He was not going to let Theo see that this was getting to him. He was not going to let his ego take that hit.

But fuck.

Fuck.

He couldn’t stop picturing it now—the visual of you under Theo, back arching, thighs trembling, mouth parted around desperate moans—

His nails dug into his palm.

Theo grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "What about you, mate?"

Mattheo blinked, snapping himself out of it. "What?"

Theo gestured at his collar. "Your sixth-year legacy. She good?"

Mattheo smirked laughing,"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Theo laughed. "Not really. I doubt she can take it like our girl can."

Our girl.

Mattheo’s grip tightened.

And then, as if the universe really fucking hated him—you walked in.

Late, as always, hair still damp from your shower, your lips slightly swollen from where you’d been chewing on them, collar high but not high enough.

Theo’s gaze flickered up, locking onto you immediately.

Mattheo could feel the moment his friend’s eyes landed on the faint bruises still peeking out from your throat.

His smirk froze as his eyes narrowed.

And then—like the smug bastard he was—he leaned back in his chair, lips curling into something wicked.

“Well, well,” Theo mused, dragging his tongue over his teeth. “Looks like somebody had a long night.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to move as casually as possible toward your usual seat next to Theo. If you acted normal, maybe—just maybe—you could brush past this.

"Sorry, overslept," you lied smoothly, grabbing a piece of toast.

"Mm," Theo hummed, swirling his spoon in his coffee. "Overslept? Or overworked?"

Your stomach dropped.

Blaise, catching onto the tension, looked between you and Theo, then at Mattheo, who was still suspiciously quiet. Draco, as always, seemed unfazed, focused on some Quidditch play he was detailing, but even he seemed to sense that something was brewing.

You forced a laugh, shoving a bite of toast into your mouth as if that would somehow defuse the situation. "What are you on about?"

Theo leaned forward, his voice dropping just enough for only you and Mattheo to hear. "Y’know, you’re usually good at covering them," he mused, reaching out to flick the collar of your robe. "Usually.”

Shit.

Mattheo's entire body went rigid beside you. You didn’t dare look at him.

Theo, oblivious to the storm he was about to unleash, grinned before taking a sip of his coffee. “So, who was it?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Who left those pretty little marks on you?” Theo asked, tilting his head, voice edged with something dangerously close to amusement. “Because it wasn’t me.”

Silence.

Mattheo finally spoke, his voice low, smooth—but laced with something sharp beneath it.

“You sure about that, mate?”

Theo’s grin faltered.

You sucked in a breath, stomach twisting.

Oh, fuck.

For the first time, Theo actually looked at Mattheo—really looked at him. He took in the barely-hidden tension in his jaw, the way his fingers tapped against the table with practiced patience, his brown eyes darker than usual.

Then, realization hit.

Theo’s smirk dropped completely.

His head snapped back to you, eyes narrowing, searching, flickering between your bruised throat and Mattheo’s lazy posture. His gaze dragged down to Mattheo’s shirt collar—barely unbuttoned but just enough to catch the faintest hint of red scratches near his neck.

He laughed.

A dry, disbelieving laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t.”

You stayed silent.

Mattheo, on the other hand, simply leaned back in his seat, smirking now—full of smug arrogance. "Guess we have more in common than I thought."

Theo’s jaw clenched.

"You're joking," Theo muttered, shaking his head, the disbelief quickly being replaced by something else—something closer to irritation.

Mattheo tilted his head, fake innocence dripping from his voice. “Why would I joke about that?”

Blaise muttered something under his breath, looking like he definitely did not want to be here right now. Draco, finally cluing into the situation, raised a single brow but wisely stayed silent.

You could feel the tension crackling between the two boys.

Theo scoffed. "Since when do you fuck leftovers, Riddle?"

Blaise choked on his pumpkin juice.

Mattheo barely reacted, only tapping his fingers against the table once before exhaling a soft chuckle. "Leftovers?" he repeated. "That’s funny. She didn’t seem too full last night."

Theo’s eyes flashed.

Your heart dropped.

"Oh, really?" Theo drawled, his smirk back, but this one was meaner—sharper. “Let me guess, she did that thing where she pretends she can’t take any more but really wants you to keep going?” He clicked his tongue. "Cute, isn't it?"

Mattheo's smirk faltered as Theo grinned.

Checkmate.

You, meanwhile, were trying very, very hard to pretend like the ground might just swallow you whole.

Blaise sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Can the two of you not have a dick-measuring contest at breakfast?”

“Not my fault,” Theo said, leaning back, arms crossed. “I just think it’s hilarious that he thought she was a virgin.”

Mattheo’s smirk disappeared entirely.

“Oh, he did?” Blaise mused, suddenly interested.

Theo nodded, clearly enjoying himself now. “Oh, yeah. He thought he was the first to break her in.” He turned back to Mattheo, feigning concern. “Was she good for you, mate? Or did she already know exactly how to take it?”

A muscle in Mattheo’s jaw twitched.

Theo grinned wider, leaning in closer, voice taunting. "Guess I did teach her well."

Mattheo moved so fast, you barely registered it.

One second, he was seated. The next, he had grabbed Theo’s collar, yanking him forward until their faces were inches apart.

"Say that again," Mattheo spat, voice eerily calm.

Theo didn’t even flinch. Instead, he laughed, low and cocky, eyes flickering toward you before settling back on Mattheo.

“What’s the matter?” Theo was smug. “Can’t handle the fact that she was already mine before you even touched her?”

Mattheo’s grip tightened.

Your stomach twisted.

Draco sighed. “For fuck’s sake.”

"Alright, alright, break it up,” Blaise muttered, reaching out to push Mattheo back slightly. “You two are gonna start swinging, and I swear, I am not in the mood to watch you get detention over this.”

Mattheo finally let go, shoving Theo back roughly before exhaling through his nose, nostrils flaring.

Theo smoothed his collar, clearly pleased with himself.

You, however, were done.

Slamming your fork down, you stood abruptly, grabbing your bag. "Both of you," you snapped, voice low but sharp. "Get your fucking egos in check." leaving the great hall more pissed than ever.

You slammed the door to your dorm behind you, heart still hammering in your chest.

Fucking idiots.

You couldn’t believe them—Theo, with his smug little taunts, practically poking Mattheo just to piss him off, and Mattheo, falling for it like an arrogant, possessive prick.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your robe, tugging it off with more force than necessary. You weren’t even fully undressed before the door swung open behind you.

“Seriously?”Mattheo’s voice was dark, low—dangerous.

You didn’t turn around, just rolled your eyes, tossing your robe onto your bed. “If you came here to throw a tantrum, Mattheo, I’m not in the mood.”

He scoffed. “Oh, you’re not in the mood?”

You arched a brow. “What was that?”

Mattheo took a step forward, and you instinctively took one back. “Theo just sits there, talking about you like you’re some trophy he won, and you don’t even flinch?”

“You do the same shit,” you shot back. “Don’t pretend like your ego wasn’t bruised the second you found out you weren’t the first to fuck me.”

His jaw clenched. “Does he know you came for me last night? Does he know how wet you were for me?”

Before you could open your mouth, another voice cut through the tension.

“D’you two always argue like this after fucking?”

Your head snapped toward the door.

Theo leaned against the frame, arms crossed, an easy smirk tugging at his lips. Unlike Mattheo, he still looked completely composed—like he had walked in expecting this exact moment.

Mattheo didn’t move, just exhaled through his nose. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Theo shrugged. “Call it curiosity. I wanted to see what had you so riled up after breakfast.” His gaze flickered to you, slow and deliberate, eyes dragging over your half-undone uniform. “Looks like I found my answer.”

He walked towards the both of you with an eased slowness that made your pulse spike.

"You’re gonna fix it."

Your breath hitched.

"Fix it?" you echoed, voice dangerously light.

Theo leaned in, mouth brushing your ear.

"You’re gonna let us both fuck you."

The room shrank. Your heart slammed against your ribs, a wild staccato of disbelief and arousal. Theo’s presence behind you was suffocating, his fingertips ghosting over the nape of your neck. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension simmering between the three of you so thick it left you lightheaded.

“You wanna fix it, don’t you?” Theo’s voice was honeyed sin, coaxing. “You wanna make it up to us.”

Theo pressed closer from behind, his body solid against yours, a quiet hum of approval slipping from his throat. “Come on, princess. Be a good girl and say it.”

Your breath hitched, heart hammering against your ribs. You should say no. You should push them away, leave them standing there with their smug smirks and dangerous eyes.

But you wouldn’t. Because you wanted this.

You swallowed. “You two can’t go five minutes without trying to kill each other,” you said, but your voice lacked conviction.

Theo hummed. “That’s part of the fun.”

Then, Mattheo finally spoke. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Your breath hitched. “Thinking about what?”

He stepped closer, backing you against the wall, his voice dropping to a whisper. “How it would feel.”

You could lie. You could push them away. But the way they were looking at you—Mattheo’s gaze dark and commanding, Theo’s filled with knowing amusement—you knew they wouldn’t believe you.

Your lips parted. No sound came out.

Theo chuckled. "That’s what I thought."

Mattheo's grip slid from your chin down to your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. "Use your words, sweetheart," he murmured, voice low and rough.

Your thighs clenched.

Fuck.

"Both," you finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Theo’s fingers gripped your waist, yanking you flush against him. His hard cock pressed into the curve of your ass through his trousers, and he knew you could feel it. “You have no fucking idea what you just agreed to, princess,” he murmured against your ear, voice dark and dripping with promise.

Mattheo’s fingers curled under your chin, forcing you to look at him. His mouth crashed against yours, devouring you, his hands already working on the buttons of your blouse. Theo’s hands fisted in your hair, tugging your head back so he could watch. “So fucking needy,” he muttered.

Your blouse hit the floor.

Theo turned you in his grip, claiming your lips this time, his tongue sliding against yours in a filthy, desperate kiss. Mattheo’s hands were rough as they gripped your waist, sliding down to your skirt, yanking the fabric up over your hips.

“Fuck,” Mattheo growled. “She’s soaked.”

Your breath hitched as he dragged his fingers over the damp lace of your panties, pressing down just enough to make you whimper.

Mattheo groaned, fingers curling under the waistband of your panties, ripping them down your legs.

You gasped. “Mattheo—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, shoving you back against Theo. “Get on the bed.”

Theo grabbed your waist, manhandling you onto the mattress, flipping you onto your stomach. His hands gripped your hips, dragging you up onto your knees.

Theo’s belt hit the floor with a heavy thud, his sharp gaze locked on you as he shoved his trousers down just enough to free himself. His cock stood thick and flushed, a bead of precum glistening at the tip as he stroked himself lazily.

“Open your mouth, princess.”

Your breath hitched, but you obeyed, your lips parting as he guided himself forward. His fingers tangled in your hair, holding you steady as he slid between your lips, hissing at the warmth of your mouth around him.

“That’s it,” Theo murmured, his voice low, rough. “Just like that.”

Behind you, Mattheo’s hands gripped your hips, his body flush against yours as he guided his cock through your soaked folds, teasing you with shallow, taunting thrusts.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re still so tight, baby. Thought Theo would’ve stretched you out by now.”

You whimpered around Theo’s cock, the sound making him curse, his fingers tightening in your hair.

Theo groaned. “She’s always tight.”

Mattheo exhaled a laugh, then thrust into you all at once.

A whimper tore from your throat, muffled around Theo’s cock as Mattheo filled you to the hilt, stretching you open with one deep stroke. Your nails dug into Theo’s thighs, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to adjust to the overwhelming fullness.

“Fuck,” Theo gritted, his head tipping back. “You feel that, Riddle? Feel how she’s squeezing you?”

Mattheo groaned, fingers bruising your hips as he pulled back and slammed into you again. “Tight as fuck.”

They set a rhythm that had you unraveling too fast, Theo’s slow thrusts in your mouth syncing with Mattheo’s brutal pace behind you. Your body rocked between them, pleasure blinding, each snap of Mattheo’s hips sending you forward onto Theo’s cock.

Tears streaked down your cheeks as Theo wiped a thumb across your cheekbone, his smirk sharp as he forced you to take him deeper.

“Look at you,” Theo murmured. “So desperate for it.”

Mattheo’s hand cracked against your ass, making you yelp around Theo, your walls clenching hard around Mattheo’s cock.

“Oh, she likes that,” Mattheo taunted, slamming into you harder, deeper. Theo laughed, guiding your head up and down his length, groaning as your throat tightened around him. “Gonna cum for us, princess?”

You moaned in response, your body tightening, teetering dangerously close to the edge. Mattheo could feel it, too, his grip becoming bruising as he fucked you harder, his rhythm growing erratic.

“That’s it,” Mattheo groaned. “Cum for us.”

The orgasm slammed into you, a choked cry leaving your lips as your body shook, pleasure crashing over you in thick, hot waves.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Theo growled, his own restraint snapping as he buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he came, his grip on your hair tightening as he held you still, spilling down your throat.

Mattheo was seconds behind, slamming into you one last time before he groaned your name, his fingers digging into your hips as he emptied himself inside you, warmth spilling deep.

Theo was the first to move, slipping from your mouth with a satisfied hum, swiping his thumb across your lips to gather the last remnants of himself before pushing it back into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he praised.

Mattheo pulled out with a groan, his hands shaky as he slid his fingers over your hips, pulling you back against him for a slow kiss on your neck. Theo’s chest heaved, his gaze fixed on you as he caught his breath, still trying to get control of his own erratic pulse.

Mattheo and Theo had collapsed beside you, catching their breath, fucked-out and satisfied. You looked up at them both, your body tingling from the aftershocks, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed.

You licked your lips, letting the silence settle for a moment before humming softly, tilting your head.

“That’s all you got?”

Theo barked out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Are you serious?”

Mattheo lifted his head, eyes dark, jaw clenching. “You’re pushing it, princess.”

Your lips curled. “yeah well it was cute.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes. “Cute?” he repeated, voice laced with something dangerous.

You stretched out, making a show of it, skin still burning from where they had touched you. “Yeah. Real cute. You boys put in a good effort.”

Theo snorted, shaking his head. Mattheo, though? He leaned in, gripping your chin between his fingers, “Princess,” he murmured, voice all gravel and threat. “You’re gonna wanna shut the fuck up.”

Your grin was wicked.

“Oh?” you purred. “Or what? You’ll fuck me properly next time?”

Theo let out a low whistle, dragging a hand down his face. “Fuck, you’re insane.”

Well this had been fun, but now you were done. Sitting up, massaging your neck slowly, voice flat, uninterested.

"Alright. Time’s up. Get the fuck out."

Mattheo’s grin twitched. Theo barely reacted, just tilting his head like he was waiting for you to crack a smile.

"You’re serious?" Theo muttered, sitting up.

You gave him the most unimpressed look known to man.

"You thought I was gonna fall asleep in your arms or some shit?"

Mattheo’s jaw clenched, running a hand through his messy curls. "You’re actually throwing us out."

You barely spared him a glance.

"Clothes are over there. Door’s right there. Don’t make me say it again."

Theo let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he stood, stretching like this was all some big joke. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, grabbing his shirt off the floor.

Mattheo, though? He wasn’t laughing. He stayed put, gaze burning into you like he was trying to decipher some hidden meaning in your words.

You met his stare, arching a brow. “What?” feigning innocence as trailed your finger down his sweat slicked chest.

Mattheo scoffed, shoving your hand away before grabbing his shirt off the floor. “You’re a fucking nightmare.”

Theo, already at the door, sighed. “Alright, lover boy, let’s go before she bruises your ego any more.”

Mattheo lingered for a second longer, eyes raking over you, searching for something—anything—that suggested you might be playing at indifference. But you just stared back, cool, unreadable.

With a low curse, he turned on his heel, yanking the door open. “You know where to find us,” he tossed over his shoulder.

You didn’t reply. Didn’t watch them leave. Satisfied with yourself, already reaching for a cigarette on the nightstand.

Boys. So fucking easy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: i regret nothing

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

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