Angel of the Morning - Ryland Grace x F!Reader (18+ MDNI)
Summary: A lazy, intimate morning with your boyfriend, Ryland Grace, while ‘Angel of the Morning’ by Merrilee Rush & The Turnabouts plays softly from the radio.
content warning: smut, hair pulling kink, lowkey pathetic half sub half dom ryland if that makes sense, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), 18+ mdni!!! you hath been warned!
author's note: ryland grace is a munch confirmed idgaf. also this is my first time writing smut, hopefully its not total garbage! ok bye love ya .✦ ݁˖
words: 2k
It was another lazy Saturday morning, and the clock on the stove read ‘9:37 AM’. You had carefully snuck out of bed to start making coffee before Ryland could protest your absence.
This was your usual routine when you slept over at Ryland's apartment on Friday nights; the next morning, you would always start the coffee machine and begin making breakfast, letting Ryland sleep in a bit longer. He was a heavy sleeper, and you felt like he needed the sleep more than you. Besides, those early mornings biking to work and teaching middle schoolers all day took a lot out of the man.
Distractedly, your hand reached for the kitchen radio that was attached to the underside of the kitchen cabinet that held the coffee mugs. Your finger pressed the ‘on’ button and tweaked the volume dial down slightly. The radio crackled for a moment, and then the Saturday morning local news programme started playing.
You listened for a couple of minutes while pouring yourself a cup of coffee and rummaging through the fridge for milk. The usual news played: traffic is backed up on the Golden Gate Bridge, the local library is holding a fundraiser to raise money for its literacy programs, and it’s going to be sunny and warm for the next few days.
Tired of the news, you reached again for the dial on the kitchen radio and set it to 94.7 FM. Your fingers thrummed against the kitchen counter as you listened to the 70’s soft rock that played from the small radio. You raised your coffee mug to your lips to take a much-needed sip of coffee, savouring the taste.
Your ears perked at the subtle noise of Ryland in the bedroom. You could hear the bedframe creak from him rising out of bed, and the sound of the curtains being pushed to the side so he could look at the morning sun peeking over the clouds. You took this as your cue to start pouring him a cup of coffee, so you grabbed another mug from the cabinet.
You hummed quietly to yourself as the song ‘Angel of the Morning’ by Merrilee Rush played softly from the radio, pouring the freshly-brewed coffee into Ryland’s favourite mug, the one that said ‘World’s Greatest Teacher’ across the front.
Ryland padded barefoot into the quaint kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his tired eyes, his glasses hanging from one ear and tucked under his chin. He was clad in just blue plaid pyjama bottoms, the drawstring waist hanging low on his hips. Your eyes couldn't help but flicker to his toned stomach, catching a glimpse of the blonde curls that trailed down from his belly button before meeting his sleepy gaze.
“Good morning, baby.” You spoke barely above a whisper, still dozy yourself.
“G’morning, beautiful,” Ryland yawned, straightening his glasses on the bridge of his nose so he could see you better.
You stood in the kitchen, basking in the soft, warm glow of the morning sun. The simple sight of you made Ryland’s heart flutter in his chest.
He made his way next to you at the kitchen counter as you passed him his mug of coffee. The radio continued to play faintly in the background...
♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.
Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby
Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Then slowly turn away from me
Maybe the sun's light will be dim
And it won't matter anyhow
If morning's echo says we've sinned
Well, it was what I wanted now
♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.
His large hand made contact with the small of your back, his pinky finger brushing up under the hem of your shirt. His chin dipped, and his stubble and soft lips connected with your temple, planting a long kiss on your hairline.
You could feel his lips curl upwards into a smile against your hair, and he pulled you closer to his chest. His skin was still warm from the bed, and your fingers danced across his toned chest, to his shoulders, and then down his biceps, giving them a playful squeeze.
A weak gasp escaped his lips as your fingers tickled his skin, creating a trail of goosebumps down his arms. You lifted your chin to meet his lips with your own, your mouth slightly parted as an invitation for his tongue.
He pressed his tongue against your plump bottom lip before devouring you through the heated kiss. Your warm bodies were flushed against each other, fitting together like puzzle pieces. You could feel his cock hardening under his thin pyjama pants, which were pressed firmly against your stomach.
Your hands snaked up from his arms to his neck, your fingers raking through the hair on the back of his head. You tugged lightly, and a moan reverberated deep from Ryland’s chest. He pulled away to look at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown from desire, while his glasses were slightly askew from the passionate kiss you two shared.
“Why’d you have to get up so early?” Ryland pleaded.
His hands were pawing at your hips and ass. You couldn’t help but laugh at his pathetic, needy state. Ryland's cheeks were tinged a soft pink colour, only slightly abashed from your involuntary giggle at his arousal.
“Ry, it's almost 10 o'clock,”
You nodded towards the clock on the stove. Ryland frowned, his glasses still off kilter. He shrugged, his eyes falling back onto you.
“Oh, c’mon, it’s Saturday. Saturdays are meant for sleeping in and morning sex.”
You gotta admit, he had a point.
You let out a chuckle, tucking your head under his chin and letting your hands fall from his hair down his back, fingertips tracing down his spine. You could feel his muscles shudder under your touch. It felt like electricity shooting down his spine.
Ryland’s thick, strong arms wrapped around your waist, and he picked you up with ease. You expected him to carry you back to the bedroom. But instead, he lifted you and plopped you down on the kitchen table. You let out a surprised yelp. Now, Ryland was kneeling in front of you, using his hand to part your knees.
“But I can’t wait any longer.”
It came out of him almost like a low growl. He was no longer looking sheepish, and his gaze was fixed on you.
You could feel a blush creep up your neck, and you could only imagine how flushed you looked. Ryland had never been this… forthright before, when it came to being intimate together. It surprised you, but also fueled the wetness that was pooling between your legs.
The look in Ryland’s eyes was almost primal, like he was a lion about to devour his prey. He was breathing heavily, with his lips slightly parted, and they shimmered with leftover saliva from your heated kiss. He looked exceptionally handsome, even with his hair standing up in all different directions from your hands, and his glasses were still crooked on his face.
His strong hands were now rubbing gentle circles on your kneecaps, his fingertips teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
He drew his face closer to your core, settling his chin on the wooden table, mere inches away from you. You could feel the hot breath from his nostrils fluttering against the thin fabric of your pyjama shorts.
Your head fell backwards in ecstasy as you felt his warm hands travel up the inside of your thighs, his fingertips brushing under the hem of your shorts, nearly making contact with your groin.
He was teasing you, which drove you crazy, and he knew it. You melted completely at his gentle, featherlight touches.
His fingertips inched closer to where your plush thighs met your abdomen. On instinct, your thighs parted wider for better access, which earned you an eager, lopsided smirk from Ryland.
He was utterly enthralled with you; how you were propped up on the kitchen table, the morning sunlight streaming in behind you, legs spread apart for him. Your lips were slightly parted, your cheeks flushed, and your chest rising and falling rhythmically as you watched him with anticipation.
Slowly, Ryland began leaving a trail of tender kisses from your knees, going up your thighs. Your skin tingled from the contact of his soft lips in contrast with his stubbly beard on your smooth skin. His trail of kisses stopped at the crook of your thigh, and he shook his head, tutting sarcastically.
“Need these outta the way, fast,” he muttered, hooking his index fingers under the waistband of your pyjama shorts and pulling down.
You pushed back on your hands and raised your hips slightly in an attempt to help get your clothes off quicker. Ryland threw the shorts over his shoulder playfully, and his heavy-lidded gaze fell on your newly exposed skin.
His blue eyes met your own, and he raised his eyebrows as if to ask a silent ‘Is this okay?’ before proceeding. You nodded enthusiastically before raising a leg and hooking your knee over his shoulder, pulling him closer to your aching core.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he joked.
Ryland’s face edged closer to your wet cunt, his nose bumping your clit slightly. His hands made their way to under both your thighs, helping to angle your hips in a way so he could get a full view of you.
Without warning, you could feel his mouth on you, his tongue licking a wide stripe up your soaked folds. He let out a pathetic whimper at the taste of you. You could hear him curse under his breath as he rested his head against the inside of your thigh. He nipped and sucked at your clit, using his tongue to make quick circles around it.
You let out a trembling moan at the feeling of Ryland’s tongue against your throbbing core. Suddenly, you could feel the pads of his index and middle fingers prodding at your entrance, begging to dive in. You threw your head back, another shaky moan escaping your lips, as Ryland’s thick fingers slid inside you, pumping in and out in perfect rhythm.
As he kept swirling his tongue around your clit, he curled his fingers, his fingertips pressing against the spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. Your thighs clamped tighter around his head, and he groaned into your cunt at your involuntary reflex to his skilled fingers.
The heels of your feet dug into Ryland’s back while you had one hand behind you, trying to keep balance on top of the kitchen table, with your other hand gripping a fistful of his dirty blonde hair. You tugged at his hair, making him moan and whimper, while still lapping at your dripping pussy like he was starving.
Soon, you could feel pressure building in your lower abdomen, threatening to burst. Your heels dug deeper into his toned back, completely trapping Ryland against you. Not that he’d complain, he’d sooner die of lack of oxygen than take a break from eating you out.
Ryland could tell you were getting close to your climax, and he egged you on.
“Mmf-! P-please, baby… cum on my face,” he whimpered, his voice muffled by your pussy.
You could barely speak, but the dirtiest-sounding moans were dripping from your lips like honey.
Not long after, you could feel the bubble bursting inside your lower belly, and your fingers gripped Ryland’s hair even tighter as a loud moan escaped you. You could feel yourself beginning to cum against his thick fingers, with his tongue still eagerly pressed against your clit.
Finally, you let go, becoming completely undone before Ryland on the kitchen table. Your orgasm racked through you in waves of electricity, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head. For a moment, you felt paralyzed, before leaning forward and nearly collapsing on Ryland.
He held you for a minute, your head pressed against his chest while he rubbed soothing circles on your back. The kitchen radio was still playing, and he reached over to switch it off.
“Let’s go back to bed, hm? Sleepyhead,” Ryland's tone was teasing and affectionate.
You raised your head to look at him through half-lidded, blissed-out eyes. He had his signature charming, lopsided smile spread across his lips, which were shiny from your slick. His hair was even messier, and his glasses were fogged up.
Nevertheless, Ryland scooped you up in his strong arms and proceeded to carry you back to bed, where you could sleep off your orgasm and perhaps gain back your energy to keep the fun going. After all, what are Saturdays for?
[the end!]
(divider credit - @thecutestgrotto)
