wanna be yours - knj | m
if you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot. you call the shots babe, i just wanna be yours - i wanna be yours, the arctic monkeys
↳ summary- your camping trip with your date namjoon goes south, leaving you to camp in your car. somehow, he helps you make the best of it.
↳ rating- explicit / 18+
↳ word count- 2.9k
↳ pairing- namjoon x reader
↳ genre- smut, fluff
↳ warnings- public sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be smrt friends!), dirty talk, creampie, smutty fluff man it’s cute as shit
↳ a/n- hi friends! welcome back to another fun fic with lindy! i was in my feels tihs morning and this little piece came out. i hope you enjoy it! i also felt like making sure namjoon was well represented in more than just a hard dom way LOL. enjoy babies! feel free to comment, message me, etc etc. i love you!
The sunlight pours in through the car windows with no care of disturbing you. It shines bright on your face and heats your skin. It’s uncomfortable—too bright. But, you’re unwilling to move from the warmth and safety of the arms encircling you, so you accept the punishment of the too bright light and remain rooted to your spot.
Sleeping in your car hadn’t been in the itinerary for your impromptu camping date with Namjoon. In fact, you had promised a tent and homemade meals, a campfire, and s’mores. But the torrential rain and downpour that never ended as soon as you arrived at your campground washed away those plans.
You had been distraught—your very new relationship with Namjoon was important to you and you wanted to give him a memorable night. You wanted to show him how invested in him you were, how much you enjoyed being with him. You hoped the night would end with him making love to you and asking to be your boyfriend.
Instead, it ended huddled in your car—soaking wet and eating cold cuts from your cooler, and falling asleep from utter exhaustion of the day. No romance, no passionate lovemaking, only lumpy sleeping bags and open containers of cheese strewn about the car.
Namjoon groans in his sleep as he finally registers the cursed sun pounding into his skull. He wiggles around in the blankets, arms pulling you in tighter and grumbles about the sun being too noisy. It makes you laugh—Namjoon always makes you laugh, and it pulls him even further from his rest.
He cracks an eye open and looks down at you.
“What’s so funny, huh?” He teases. His voice is rough around the edges from sleep and it makes your heart beat too fast.
“You said the sun was too noisy,” you giggle as you press your face into his chest.
He huffs a laugh and tries to feign insult.
“It is!” His fingers dig into your armpits to tickle you, and it makes you squeal. The ensuing tickle fight fills the car with laughter and you squirm to get away from the onslaught. Namjoon turns you on to your back and hovers over you. He has you pinned, and you’re whining for mercy through your laughter.
“Okay! I give! I surrender!” You pout through the tears of your laughter.
Joon smirks in triumph and moves his hands down and away from your arms and settles them on your hips.
A silent beat passes and you find yourself lost in Namjoon’s heated gaze. It warms you more than the overbearing sun pounding through the glass of your four-door sedan, and you feel your cheeks flush from the stimulation.
“I’m sorry this camping thing didn’t really work out,” you mumble to dispel some fire in your chest.
Namjoon smiles down at you. His eyes glitter with something unreadable to you, but it makes your stomach jump, regardless.
“It was perfect,” he says. A hand comes up to stroke your head. “I got to wake up next to you. I’d say it was a successful trip.
Your throat loses the ability to function—you can’t breathe or form coherent words. It all dries up on your tongue as you peer into Namjoon’s sincere gaze.
“I want to be with you,” he whispers as he continues to stroke your cheek. “I’ve had the best time of my life over the last few weeks getting to know you. I’d like to make you mine.”
Namjoon sounds so confident, so sure of himself and his feelings for you. It’s intoxicating the way he’s able to be so open with his feelings. His bold first move to you so many weeks ago hooked you at the very start, and every overt attempt at continuing your blossoming romance pulled you further into his captivating orbit.
“I hope you feel the same way. I’d like to keep getting to know you for the rest of my life.”
His words melt straight through you—you’re certain your heart is a puddle now.
“I’d like that to,” you murmur in agreement. “I like you a lot.”
His megawatt smile lights up brighter than the gleaming billboards of Las Vegas and it stirs something inside you that has your core clenching.
“I like you, a lot, a lot.”
He doesn’t allow you to retort—instead he presses his lips to yours as he holds himself above your body.
The kiss is so sweet. There’s no tongue, no diving in for a taste quite yet. It’s careful, yet confident. He kisses you like he’s wanted to kiss you from the moment he set eyes on you. Even though you’ve shared kisses since your first date, this one feels familiar and yet so different. It feels like the start of something new.
You kiss him languidly, eventually allowing your tongue to slip through his lips and peruse the cavern of his mouth and slide over his own. He accepts it heartily and allows his own tongue to mimic your movements. You note that despite his morning breath, he still tastes like something spicy, something sweet, and all together Namjoon and it has you weak.
His hands move up your body, lifting at your shirt, and you’re eager to accept and let him undress you as his kissing turns hotter and more intense. He sucks on your lips and smiles as the shirt comes off easily and reveals your bare chest. You took your bra off the night previous and changed into a dry shirt, after spending an uncomfortable few hours in the rain trying and failing to set up a tent.
He’s mesmerized by your breasts and the way the yellow light of the sun spreads across your pink nipples. It nearly makes him salivate and you can feel a growing bulge in his sweats pressing into you. It causes you to feel even needier than you were before. You’ve wanted this since the moment you saw him, and now you would finally get your chance.
Namjoon lowers his head down towards your chest and eagerly laps at your tits, perky nipples slipping into his mouth and being swirled around his tongue. It shakes a groan out of you and makes your spine tingle. He’s smiling around your buds now; you can tell by the shape of his mouth against you, and it makes your own lips curl into a matching one.
The feeling of his mouth latched to your nipple has your core heated and you’re positive you’re soaking through the thin cotton panties covering you.
“Joon,” you sigh.
He doesn’t offer a response, only hums around the nipple in his mouth as his other hand comes to pinch and pull at the neglected one. He cups your breast too, squeezing the ample flesh there and enjoying the way it fills his palms.
“So good,” you encourage. He doesn’t need much encouragement other than your pleased moans, but he likes that you’re talkative and eager to provide.
He switches off, allowing the soaked nub to experience the pinch of his fingers as the other gets sucked into his warm mouth and nibbled on by his teeth.
“You’re so pretty,” he coos, eyes flickering between the reddened nipples and your blissful face. “I’m so lucky.”
Normally, you’d roll your eyes at such a cheesy admittance but now that you’re here experiencing his magic mouth on your chest, it feels less corny and more romantic than anything you’ve ever heard before.
“Joonie,” you sigh again. “I want you. Need you.”
You’re needy and unashamed of it now. You can tell by the pleased look on his face that he likes it so there’s no need to hide how you feel.
Your hand slips down to the growing bulge in his sweats and you grip it tight. It makes him hiss through his teeth and he nods quickly.
“Yeah, I can see that,” he moans. “I need you too.”
Your eyes stare into his—he nearly melts at your doe's eyes glossed over with adoration. He’s sure he could lose all track of time and reality in your gaze.
He’s tugging off your sleep shorts as quickly as he can, not bothering to take his time and unwrap you like a gift. He’s past that point now—you can blame your breathy and desperate whines for more for his haste.
You want to hide, to cover yourself, to not let your whole body be exposed in the blinding light of the morning sun, but when you see Namjoon gape at you like he’s just stumbled upon an angel, you feel the growing embarrassment stop in its tracks and retreat to the far, dark corners of your mind. Namjoon doesn’t care about the freckles on your legs, the way you feel your body is too much or too little in places it should be different. Namjoon is seeing you, all of you, and recognizes that he doesn’t think he’ll want anything else the rest of his life.
“I want to blow you,” you start as you sit up on your elbows. “But, I think… lack of space is against us right now.” Your cheeks flare red. You’re bold, but only just enough to get the words out. Now that they’re out, you feel the flicking flames of regret.
He pushes all embarrassed thoughts away with a sincere chuckle and a kiss to your forehead.
“I wanna eat you out for a month straight but I might break my leg trying to do it here. I think we’ll be lucky to do everything the old-fashioned way.” He winks at you. There’s no reason to feel stupid or too much around Namjoon. It’s as if he’s molded, body and personality, to be your perfect match. It’s complementary in nature and it spurs you into action.
“Fuck me, please,” you gasp. If he’s phased at all by your plea, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he smiles and presses you down to lie flat on the bed of your car. It’s not comfortable—the folded seats aren’t the world’s most comfortable bed, and the blankets and sleeping bags bunch under you awkwardly. But you don’t care. It simply doesn’t even enter your thought process to care. You’re too focused on how Namjoon is kissing you, caressing the skin of your obliques as he travels down to allow his finger to drag through the wetness gathering at the apex of your thighs. It pulls a loud moan out of you as he skims a finger of your clit and your eyes widen in blissful pleasure.
He smirks against your lips and removes his hands. He wants to play, oh does he ever want to play, but he thinks if he’s not inside you in the next minute or less, he’ll have an uncomfortable wet spot in his pants and some bruised dignity. You’re so hot like this he thinks he’ll definitely bust in his pants before he even gets inside of you if he’s not quick.
He pushes the sweats down, kicks them off to some corner of your car and continues kissing you.
He pulls away for a moment as he grips his cock.
“Shit, I didn’t bring any condoms.”
You bite your lip carefully. You should have thought ahead but you foolishly always believe the man would be prepared. He can tell by your features you’re lacking too.
“I mean, I wanted to bring some, but I worried you’d think I was presuming something and I didn’t want-... you know… I didn’t want you to think that’s all I was after.”
His confession makes you nearly cry and you’re thanking whatever god or higher power is up there that this beautiful, considerate, and honest man landed in your lap and soon, in your pussy.
“I’m clean,” you state. “I only have sex with partners. And it’s been awhile.” He leans down to kiss you but you interrupt one last time. “And I’m on birth control.”
He smiles at you and presses his lips to yours. It’s comforting and sweet and still carries the heat of before but it’s held to a simmer.
“I’m clean too,” he replies. “I actually have the printout of my test results last month in my wallet.” He blushes at his admittance. “Most guys carry condoms in their wallets and I just have my STD test results and a Costco membership.”
Uproarious laughter escapes both of you, and you cling to each other as you giggle together. Your stomach hurts from the force of your laughter and you have to wipe away a few tears as you come down.
“Maybe we can use that membership to get bulk amounts of condoms, then?” You postulate and it triggers another giggle session.
You’re not sure when the laughing ends and when his request for permission to slide into you starts, but you’re soon nodding your approval and allowing his thick cock to spear into you and stretch you wider than you think you’ve been stretched in your life.
You moan in unison, both overcome by the feel of your tight channel gripping his girth. Namjoon stills inside of you once he’s fully sheathed and he wraps a hand around the back of your head and lets you rest on it like a pillow.
“Fuuuuck,” he nearly whines. “Shit, you feel so good.”
You whimper a reply, non-verbal agreement that the way he slots himself inside of you feels better than anything you’ve felt before. He’s big and thick, and it feels like you’ve maybe bitten off more than you can chew but it mellows out to the perfect feeling of fullness and satisfaction.
You wiggle your hips to get him to move and he gets the hint. He starts a pace that feels slow and gentle. You arch your back into him, press your chest against his. The slow drag of his cock in and out of you is stimulating, it feels like it’s wired with electricity. He holds you tight, an arm snaking around your waist and pulling you even closer.
“That’s right, baby,” he praises. “You look so good under me. Taking me so well.”
Somehow Namjoon knew how much you needed the talking during sex, how you craved the interaction verbally as much as you needed it physically. It spurs you on, gets you even wetter and you clench around him. He notices and bites his lip. He’s being rewarded for his gentle dirty talk and he’s encouraged to do it even more.
He picks up the pace and clings to you, eyes flickering between your face, your bouncing tits and the way his dick disappears inside of you and reappears covered in your creamy essence.
“Oh, baby,” he groans. “You’re so good, baby. Look at you making my cock all creamy.”
It’s impossible now to hold back your cries of passion. He ups his pace, makes his strokes deeper and faster and it hits the spot inside you that makes your toes curl. It feels like your every pore is soaking in every aspect of Namjoon. Not only does your cunt accept him inside you, but your body craves to have him in your bloodstream.
“Yes, Joonie, yes!” Your hips match his pace and you’re spewing all the praise you can at the man above you. He feels so good inside you, feels like he’s lighting something you didn’t know was extinguished to begin with.
He pumps harder and moves his hands to your hips and grips tightly. He watches as he continues to drill into you and it hypnotizes him. The way you feel combined with the way your body sucks him in has him captivated.
Your combined breath heats the car, the windows steaming up from the heat in your pants. Your skin feels clammy and the sheen of sweat appears on Namjoon’s forehead but none of it fucking matters. All that matters is the way he pounds into you and pushes you closer and closer to the edge of euphoria that has you raking your hands on any surface of his skin you can reach, leaving trails of fire red lines in your wake.
“Close! Holy fuck, Namjoon!” You cry as your back tips up towards him again. The coil in your belly is tightening impossibly—it feels like you’re cresting an enormous tidal wave. “Gonna cum, Joon!”
Namjoon goes even faster, determined to make you hit your high when he does and he’s nearly there. Just a little more, a little longer.
The increase in speed and intensity does the trick for both of you and the loud echo of your moans ring through the small enclosure of the car. Namjoon pumps himself into your womb, suddenly grateful he knows you’re protected because he didn’t even comprehend a finish other than inside you. You’re spasming around him and it feels so impossibly tight, tighter than a vice grip, and it makes him whine needily as you milk his cock for all he’s worth.
It takes nearly five minutes to regain complete consciousness and the ability to speak again. Your breathing evens out from the heavy, gasping pants to light inhales. Namjoon falls to lie beside you, pressing you into him as he pushes his sticky, sweaty hair out of his face.
The sound of you laughing shakes Namjoon from his post-coital bliss. He peers down at your curiously.
“Okay, what is so funny?” He asks.
You snort as you point a finger behind him. He turns to look and sees an opened container of meat and cheese from your makeshift dinner the night before strewn about the car. There're pieces of lunchmeat and cheese everywhere, stuck to the sleeping bag and the car seats.
“We fucked on top of cheese.”
Namjoon can’t help but laugh as he pulls you in closer and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.
Yeah, he’s found the one. He’s sure of it.
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