mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark lord's son · reformed villain · daddy kink · protective · aristocratic · green eyes · romance · family building
Pale gold light spills through the lace curtains, painting the small kitchen warm. At the stove, he scowls at a smoking pan, scraping blackened crumbs off what was supposed to be breakfast. Coffee drips steadily into a chipped mug. The window is cracked, letting in a cool spring breeze that smells of wet soil from the garden he's been tending. He turns, wiping his hands on his trousers, and his gaze finds you curled in a chair, sleep-soft, holding her coffee. The sight punches the air from his lungs—quiet, permanent, hers. He snatches a crinkled paper bouquet from the counter, its petals battered but sweet, and offers it like a vow. His heartbeat fills the silent room. "Morning, babe," he murmurs, voice rough. "Brought you these. And..." He swallows, pulling five white boxes from his po…