Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

Possessive & Jealous - M.R as a Boyfriend

Word Count: 689

Mattheo Riddle wasn't the kind of boyfriend who wore his emotions on his sleeve, at least not in the usual way. He didn't need to say much for me to know what he was feeling—his actions always spoke louder than words.

It started small, almost sweet, when we first began dating. A hand on my lower back whenever we walked into a crowded room, keeping me close. Little gestures that felt protective, like he was always looking out for me. But as time went on, those gestures turned into something more intense, something possessive.

I was sitting in the library one afternoon, chatting with a friend from charms class, Jason. He had been explaining some complicated spellwork when I felt Mattheo's presence behind me before I even saw him. His dark eyes were locked onto us, his expression unreadable, but I could see the tension in his jaw.

"Hey," I said, offering him a smile, trying to ease the tension I already knew was bubbling beneath the surface. "This is Jason, he's just helping me with—"

"Yeah, I know who he is," Mattheo cut in, his voice low and sharp. He stepped closer, his arm snaking around my waist in a way that felt more like being claimed rather than affection. Jason's easygoing smile faltered, his gaze shifting awkwardly between the two of us.

"Uh, I should probably get going," Jason mumbled, gathering his books, "I'll see you later Y/N." he said, giving me a quick nod before practically feeling from the library.

The moment he was gone, I turned to Mattheo, raising an eyebrow. "What was that about?"

Mattheo's eyes didn't leave the door Jason had disappeared through. "I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

I sighed, pulling back slightly to take a look at him. "Mattheo, we were just talking. He was helping me with a spell—"

"I don't care," he snapped, cutting me off again. His eyes meeting mine, and they were dark with jealousy. "I know how guys like him think. I know what he wants."

"Mattheo, that is ridiculous." I tried to keep my voice calm, but it was hard when he got like this, so possessive and intense. "You don't need to get jealous of every guy I talk to."

He clenched his jaw, his grip on my waist tightening. "I'm not jealous. I'm just not going to let anyone think they can get close to you like that. You're mine."

There it was—that word. Mine. Mattheo had a way of saying it that made me feel both cherished and trapped at the same time. I loved him, I really did, but this side of him, the one that couldn't stand the idea or sight of me talking to another guy, made things difficult.

"You don't own me," I said softly, trying to make him understand without escalating things. "I'm with you because I want to be, but you can't stop me from having friends."

His expression softened slightly, but the possessiveness didn't leave his eyes. "I know that," he muttered, pulling me closer. "But I don't trust anyone else around you. I can't help it. The thought of someone else even looking at you–the way I look at you–it drives me crazy."

His arms wrapped around me, tighter than before, and despite everything, I felt a flicker of warmth in my chest. His intensity, his jealousy—it all stemmed from how much he cared for me. But sometimes it could be overwhelming, suffocating, like his love for me was wrapped in barbed wire.

"I'm yours," I said gently, placing my hands on his chest. "But you've got to trust me, okay? You don't have to fight off every guy who comes near me."

He exhaled slowly, his grip on me loosening just a fraction. "I'll try," he murmured, though I wasn't sure if he really believed it. "But I'm not making any promises."

I smiled slightly, leaning into his embrace, even though a part of me knew that this was just how he was. Loving him meant learning to navigate a storm that always seemed to rage just beneath the surface.

And for better or worse, I had chosen to weather it.

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