thanks for answering my last ask!! also dylan x gwyn from ur books for the ship ask game u reblogged, if u want to write more about them? but with an emoji heart color of ur choice, since they're just so 🥺🥺🥺 to me I legitimately can't decide. any and all content of them and writing from you is is Peak to me I can't help it sjdjskdkekdk
Hi Nix!!!! Hope u enjoy this!!! ☺️☺️☺️ I wrote it on the bus this morning when I was headed to work and Gwyn and Dylan had me by the throat ngl.
💗 slow kiss /gentle kiss / inevitable / soft
I came to blearily, groaning as the sun flared throuh the window as though tinder had been lit. Salt perfumed the air. And there Dylan lay beside me, sprawled out like a starfish. One of his arms was thrown over my waist while the other dangled off the bed, while his legs were twisted up in the brychan to such a degree that he looked as though he were snagged in a net. Yet his face was utterly serene. At peace. Freed from all the stress that had bogged him down these last few weeks after he'd been stressing about Llacheu's illness, and the scorching scolding that Arthur's had given him and Gwalchmai on their return from their sojourn to Bernicia.
I smiled. That was good. He deserved to get lost in his dreams, just as I deserved to kiss him good morning as though he were my true husband and not my hidden lover who only graced my bed when Arthur decreed he could. With a smile, I leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss to his throat.
He moaned softly, his lips parting. Oh, that had been the reaction I'd wanted.
A hazy reed of sunlight darted down from the high arched window of our room and illuminated his fluttering eyelashes. His tousled sandy curls stood out starkly against the white of the bed linens, the ever-growing sunlight painting them to spun gold. Something warm and fond settled in my chest like the first spring rays, and I traced the silver scars that littered his firm chest.
He huffed at that. It was a ragged little thing, one that filled in the cracks of the quiet and seeped into the walls. And then, with a babbled murmur of a language only he was privy to, he turned away from me a little, further mussing his curls up.
I couldn't resist the urge to kiss him. His tanned cheek was ripe for kisses. A faint blush glowed there like the first winter redcurrants. Gingerly - and with blood roaring furiously in my ears all the while - I moved, desperately hoping I wouldn't disturb him, praying the bed would not issue a harsh, reprimanding shriek at that fact I was moving.
Thankfully, it remained silent. My hair cascaded over my shoulders, blocked out the light that plagued him so with a samian curtain, and I pressed another kiss to his lips.
They were chapped, warmed. Remnants of the taste of me, salty and sour, remained and I giggled as his eyes fluttered open.
“Gwyn?” He said dazedly.
“Hmm?”
“S'early,” he grumbled, his hand reaching out to stroke down my arm. I shivered at the unexpected contact, the heat of his skin, and giggled as he leaned up to kiss me, straining his neck.
I dipped my head so Dylan's lips could skirt my jaw more easily, and each teasing brush set my nerves alight. He smiled, his eyes crinkling up, and his hand wrapped around my waist to pull me into the solid wall of his chest. His eyes were beguiling, the sun setting them ablaze in a aquamarine torrent. His breath ghosted over my lips.
Our eyes met.
Dylan did not hesitate. He captured my lips in a soft, slow kiss, his hands roaming over my bare skin teasingly, etching out the rod of my spine. Lazily, he led and I followed. Soon the entirety of my body soon became leaden, heavy with a contentment that made me drowsy, and Dylan too seemed similarly afflicted, if his heavy-lidded look was anything to go by. I cupped the back of his head and played with his curls, delighting in the ragged breath that left his lips as I gave an experimental tug.
“Gwynnie,” He huffed as he pulled away, delicately wiping his shining bottom lip with his ring finger. “You're incorrigible this morning.”
“That may be so,” I murmured before I kissed him again, slow and sultry, positively revelling in the surprised gasp the action coaxed out of him. “But you love it, cariad.”
“I'm not disputing that, fy môr,” he said, his voice rumbling through his chest as though it were a current. "But I would like to go back to bed.”
I giggled. “Oh,” I said, making a show of pouting in pity. “Did I tire my darling wave god out last night?”
With a glower he muttered, “You're terrible,” before proceeding to kiss me again.
And, as the sun crested in the sky turning it into a swathe of silken golds and pinks, we remained locked together, lazily kissing even as our lungs burned for air.
Sometimes I just start thinking about the video of Lando fingering the melon and Carlos caressing the tiramisu and I'm not ok. This is one of these moments. Suffer with me 😭. (Seriously WTF this was so sensual they knew what they were doing I hate them)
AHHHH I WAS HAVING A NICE PEACEFUL EVENING AND NOW
Hahahhahaah but yes! Yes! They had zero (0) business to be THAT sensual and gentle with these things. Them looking at each other while doing so is such a concept though 👀
