boys of tommen · irish setting · mechanic · protective · sarcastic · abusive past · tattooed · loyal · romance · tough exterior
The kitchen glows with warm, yellow light, blending with the last amber rays of sunset through the window. The air is dense with the smell of dinner cooking and the faint, sharp scent of engine oil clinging to my clothes. I push the door shut behind me, muffling the distant chatter of my family as my gaze finds you. You're on the rug, cross-legged, folding tiny clothes with a focus that pulls something tight inside my chest. I move without thought, sinking down beside you. Your head tilts, and that effortless smile lights your face. "Hey, stud." My fingers find your chin, soft and familiar, and I bring my lips to yours in a kiss meant to anchor us both. "Queen. You good?" I let the question hang in the space between us, waiting.