Taking Our Shots ‒ Winrina Smut Compilation

steps

Summary:

“oh god it’s wonderful
to get out of bed
and drink too much coffee
and smoke too many cigarettes
and love you so much.”

Minjeong loves Jimin every hour, but more so in the mornings. g!p Minjeong and sleepy sex.

Minjeong dreams that she is drowning in coffee. She rouses herself awake, to open her eyes, to find that it is not coffee she is drowning in, but rather, coffee-coloured tresses, invading her mouth and tickling her nose. She pulls away to scratch the itch away before returning her arms around the tiny body of her wife. Well. They’re not exactly married yet, but they might as well be. And in Minjeong’s eyes, why would she even think of marrying anyone else?

“Jimin?” Minjeong murmurs softly. A soft moan, and that’s it. Minjeong smiles and kisses the slope of her wife’s—okay, her fiancée’s—shoulder, her palm caressing the softness of her stomach. Still asleep then, Minjeong muses, and she buries her face against the back of Jimin’s neck and breathes her in deep. There is no other way to breathe in Jimin, no other way to consume her other than this: deep, all-encompassing, greedy.

Her slides her palm up some more, cups a warm breast, and squeezes, like she is palming a cloud. Minjeong nibbles on Jimin’s exposed neck, teeth scraping the sensitive spot underneath the shell of her ear. Jimin tastes remotely of sweat from last night, and apricot scrub. It is a taste that Minjeong is willing to consume for the rest of her days.

She props herself up by her elbow and peels the thick duvet off Jimin’s nakedness. Slopes and valleys, undulations of pale skin stokes the ever-growing hunger in Minjeong’s lower belly. It is a fire that never goes out, and she doubts it ever will. Minjeong spreads Jimin’s legs by pushing them apart with her knees. Her cock is fully erect now, just by the thought of touching Jimin, rutting into her with the lazy morning warmth of her pussy clenching around her thickness.

Minjeong groans at the thought and she jerks her cock a few times before nudging the blunt tip against Jimin’s heated core. She keeps her cock there, squeezed in between Jimin’s warm thighs as Minjeong’s arm loops around her stomach. She rubs Jimin’s clit in slow circles, relishing the tiny jumps that wrack her body.

While she is doing this, Minjeong is sucking and biting on Jimin’s smooth neck, her shoulders, and the dimples on her upper back, where her wings would be if she had them. Once the wetness is seeping through her fingers, making them slick and warm, Minjeong raises Jimin’s leg and drags the head of her cock against her slit.

“So warm…” Minjeong mumbles, and she slides in completely, balls deep, inside her still slumbering wife— fiancée. For a few moments, Minjeong relishes the sweltering wet heat, before pulling out completely, and pushing right back inside Jimin’s pussy. “Jeeeez…”

Minjeong pumps in deep, steady strokes. Her eyes are closed, face buried against Jimin’s neck. This is her, being greedy for Jimin, taking in what she is inherently hungry for.

It is not until a hand curls around the back of her head that Minjeong pulls away to see Jimin’s blackened irises, staring back at her. Jimin’s head is in an awkward tilt, just so she can look at Minjeong’s face. “Good—ah!—morning to you too, Minjeong…” Jimin whimpers, her fingers tugging at brunette locks.

A smirk makes its way on Minjeong’s lips. She ruts her thick cock, dragging her thickness out of Jimin’s dripping pussy to slap her dick against Jimin’s ass. The shaft is wet, dribbling a mix of Minjeong’s precome and Jimin’s own come. Minjeong smears the slick juices on Jimin’s ass before pushing back in, roughly this time, making Jimin arch into her with a gasp. “Good morning.” Minjeong grits out.

There is no more slow morning sex. It seems that Minjeong’s plans always change whenever Jimin is involved. They become happy accidents.

Though if she is being honest, there is no ‘accidental’ about the way Minjeong pounds Jimin into the mattress after rolling her onto her stomach. Minjeong’s hand grips the back of Jimin’s neck, pushing her into the pillows to stifle her moans.

“Yes…” Jimin gasps, her hips wiggling just enough for Minjeong’s cock to graze her sensitive walls. Her arm wraps around Minjeong’s neck, pulling Minjeong to her. “Take me like this, Minjeong. Oh my…”

Minjeong nibbles on Jimin’s ear and thrusts hard. She plants her hands on either side of Jimin’s trembling body. She is drowning in this heat, the swelter of being under the covers and pounding into Jimin like she is her salvation. Which she is.

Minjeong murmurs that she is close, that she is going to come soon and Jimin, knowing all of Minjeong’s weaknesses, pants and begs her to spill her thick come inside her greedy wet walls. Her pussy clenches and unclenches, milking Minjeong as she bucks and gasps, uttering Jimin’s name like a mantra that prolongs her orgasm.

Underneath Minjeong’s shaking body, Jimin is coming. The sensation of Minjeong’s come inside her, filling her dripping pussy, never fails to give her pleasure. She trembles, clenching her pussy around Minjeong’s cock so her come won’t leak out. Minjeong smiles, knows exactly what she’s doing.

“You’re so greedy for my come…” Minjeong admonishes lightly. Jimin moans and slumps on the pillow, breathless and panting. Minjeong pulls her cock out, the slickness making it easy. She rolls beside Jimin as she turns to face Minjeong. “If I have to sacrifice coffee and cigarettes to be allowed to consume you like this for the rest of my days, then…” Minjeong trails off and kisses Jimin. Languid and lazy, she tastes and retastes Jimin’s lips. “these lips of mine will no longer know the bitterness of caffeine and nicotine. They’ll only know the sweetness that your lips allow.”

Jimin bites her lip and smiles. “It’s Saturday, Minjeong.”

Minjeong chuckles. “There are no weekends for poets.”

She nuzzles into Jimin, completely aware of the warm stickiness of their lower limbs. Minjeong ignores it, if only for a while. After love-making, Minjeong needs this, and knows Jimin needs it too. The closeness, the earthy tugs of the heart that makes them believe that yes, this is real and that mornings like these? They are now habits that cannot be broken.

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