★ ash ★

Sundays are for cuddles. That’s Ryland’s rule.

Slow, quiet days where you barely leave bed and he can’t seem to keep his hands off you. You wake up to him rolling over, one strong arm settling around your waist, and fall asleep with him holding you close.

After a long day of doing absolutely nothing, you’ve eaten dinner and now you’re back in bed. He’s leaning against the headboard, half-watching The Walking Dead. You’ve both watched it before, so your full attention isn’t exactly mandatory.

You’re tucked between his legs, back pressed against his chest.

Neither of you bothered with shirts, or pants, so it’s just bare skin and underwear. Nobody is around to see you anyway. Plus, you love the feeling of his skin against yours.

One of his hands rests gently on your head, fingers idly threading through your hair, while the other traces slow, steady circles over your stomach.

You giggle at the scene playing out -Daryl and Rick chasing Jesus- and he smiles against your hair, pressing a soft kiss there.

“I think Jesus might be one of my favourite characters,” he murmurs. “He deserves more screentime.”

You nod in agreement, shifting your position to get more comfortable.

“He got a criminally low amount of screentime for such a good character.”

“Mmm,” Ryland’s hand drifts lower, fingers grazing your skin with clear intent. “You know, I never told you what I did yesterday while you were out with your mom.”

“You didn’t,” you breathe. “What did you do?”

“Well,” his fingertips brush over the waistband of your panties. “After you left, I read my new book.”

“The, uh, Dungeon Crawler Carl one, yeah?”

“Right,” he murmurs, still lazily tracing the fabric as he speaks. “I’m enjoying it so far. It’s completely ridiculous, but in a good way.”

“What’s it about?” You’re struggling to focus, already feeling the heat pooling in your lower belly.

“Well, it’s about this guy called Carl, obviously,” he says, finally sliding his hand beneath your panties. His fingers glide through your slick folds without hesitation. “And his cat, Princess Donut the Queen Anne Chonk… or just Princess Donut.”

“Okay,” you spread your legs instinctively. “Where does the dungeon crawler part come into it?”

“Basically, aliens come along and flatten earth,” he continues casually, voice low and steady while his middle finger finds your clit and starts rubbing in slow, lazy circles. “It kills most humans immediately, but the survivors are forced into this galaxy-wide gameshow.”

A soft, needy sound escapes past your lips as he presses a little harder.

“It takes place in an eighteen-level dungeon. Carl only survived because he was outside trying to find Princess Donut after she escaped,” Ryland adds, dipping two fingers lower to tease your dripping entrance, “and he was sent to the dungeon in nothing but boxers, a leather jacket and pink crocs.”

“O-Kay,” you say, forcing your voice to stay steady. “What else happens?”

“Well, there’s a system AI that’s kind of obsessed with Carl’s feet,” he says, gathering your slick on his fingers. “I only got about seven chapters in, but it was great.”

Your breath hitches at his touch. “Wh-what did you do after that?”

“I went to the gym for an hour,” he answers calmly, still half-watching the TV as he drags your slick back up and starts rubbing tight, firm circles over your throbbing clit. “Then got coffee with one of the guys I’m friendly with.”

“That sounds- ah- nice,” you gasp, digging your nails into his thighs. “That Colt dude again?”

“Yep,” he hums as he dips down again, pressing two fingers deep into your soaked cunt and curling them slowly. “I didn’t know until today that he’s a stuntman.”

You bite back a moan, pussy fluttering and squeezing around the intrusion. “Re-really? That’s so cool. Has he been in anything we’ve seen?”

“I don’t actually know. Didn’t get the chance to ask because he got a call and had to run.”

He starts pumping his fingers faster, plunging them deep into your pussy. “Anyway, after that I went to Dog Eared Books.”

“Again? You literally just- ngh- started reading a new one.”

“I know,” he chuckles, curling his fingers hard into that perfect spot inside you that makes your vision spark white. “I was just looking this time.”

You close your eyes, moaning breathlessly, completely lost for words as your hips buck against his hand.

“I found some new books to add to my list,” he carries on like nothing is happening, voice still steady and conversational. “Recursion and Children of Time. Apparently they’re both really good, I’m not sure how I hadn’t heard of them before.”

You nod weakly, too distracted by the way relentlessly fucking you with his thick fingers, stretching your cunt open with every thrust.

“But I am gonna get the other Dungeon Crawler Carl books, too,” he says, adjusting his hand so his thumb can grind against your clit.

The dual attack of sensations completely fries your brain and you just moan shamelessly in response, loud and desperate. He’s still talking, but his words are hardly registering. All you can think about is how soaked you are, the lewd sounds your pussy is making around his fingers and the overwhelming pressure on your sensitive clit.

He pauses, looking down at your wrecked expression for a moment before his free hand suddenly delivers a sharp slap across your face.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Your cunt clenches around his fingers at the impact and you can yet again only moan in response. The contrast of the still relentless sensation of his fingers inside you and the sting on your cheek is dizzying.

He frowns and curls his fingers viciously against your g-spot, smacking you harder this time.

“I asked you a question,” he murmurs. “Are you gonna answer me, or are you too busy focusing on what I’m doing to your pussy?”

“I- fuck,” you whine, reaching for words and failing.

“Oh, baby,” he coos mockingly. “Use your words and answer my question. I’m sitting here telling you about my day, and all you can do is moan like a brainless whore.”

“Yes!” You moan brokenly. “I’m list-listening, I- ngh- promise.”

“Good,” he murmurs, pumping his fingers slowly now. “You gonna keep listening?”

“Mhm,” you nod quickly. “Fuck, Ry. Please.”

He laughs and speeds up again, resuming the pressure on your clit too.

“Where was I? Oh, yeah. Books,” he says, trailing his hand down your chest. “I’m gonna try to read more this year, that’s my goal.”

“O-okay,” you grit out, grinding against his hand. You can feel your orgasm ebbing closer.

“Anyway, after the bookstore I went to the grocery store and got stuff for dinner,” he continues, tone conversational again. “Then I came home and did some cleaning.”

“Y-yeah, I did notice that- ah- you’d cleaned the kitchen,” you say, voice broken. “Thank- shit, thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiles, hand stopping to grope at one of your tits. “I didn’t really do much else, and then you came home.”

You open your mouth to respond and he moves away from your tit, pressing two fingers against your tongue.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m done now, focus on feeling good,” he mutters.

You nod and swirl your tongue around his fingers, moans muffled as you reach your peak.

“So good for me,” he breathes, removing his fingers from your mouth and using them to circle a hard nipple.

“Ry!” You cry out pathetically. “I’m gonna cum, fuck, please don’t stop- ah- just like that!”

“Wasnt planning on it,” he curls his fingers once more and you arch your back, clenching around him and soaking his hand with your juices.

“That’s it,” he breathes, not stopping until you’ve come down from your high. “Good girl.”

You press back against him, panting heavily.

He looks down at you, eyes twinkling with amusement as you tilt your head to stare at him hazily.

“There she is,” he kisses your forehead. “Was that good? I didn’t hit you too hard, right?”

“That was…” you start, and then trail off. “Hit me harder next time.”

He laughs, shaking his head.