#hyungsmutclub

[ppersonna]

the sheriff - knj | m

↳ summary- you’ve always had a soft spot for Kim Namjoon, the local sheriff.  seems like he’s had one for you, too.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

↳ word count- 6.8k (THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE I...)

↳ genre- smut, fluff

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), cowboy dirty talk, unprotected sex, aftercare, namjoon is a whole gentleman, we love to see it, period-typical gender roles, sex in a saloon, severe overuse of the word Darlin, artistic liberties on language used in the old west lol

↳ a/n- hello! welcome to my first (not so) drabble for Bangtan Rodeo!  this was requested by my angel dani @minloop​ who requested “ Howdy partner, Namjoon + saloon + sheriff 🤠” i hope you enjoy it love!  thank you to my soulmate @mindays​ for the amazing banner omg i c ry every time i look at it.  and thank you to @hobiance​ for making up this fun game, and for @mindays​ for beta-reading it!!  i also wanna shoutout my crew @ladyartemesia​ @xjoonchildx​ @taetaewonderland​ @kookiesjoonies​ who i would never write again if it werent for their constant hype.  I LOVE YOU ALLLLLL. 

What had started out as a pleasant ride through town on your father’s horse, Bang, turned into an absolute nightmare.

The horse had gotten spooked by some unknown creature, and reared up high, before taking off at a break-neck pace. Your screams were drowned out by the thunderous beat of the stallion’s hooves and the wind rushing by as the horse ran erratically out of the town and into the wilderness.

“Help!” You screamed, hoping someone would hear you. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you clung to the reins, skirt billowing behind you.

Bang the horse reared up again in a clearing, and this time it was no match for your delicate strength. You slid off the horse and landed hard on your back with an ‘oof’ before your vision went black.

“Hey, you hear me? Little lady?”

The voice wakes you, and you blink a few times. Sitting up, you wince at the stabbing pain that radiates through your body and hiss.

“Hey now, be careful,” the gentle voice speaks again. “Don’t get up too fast. Here, lay back down.”

Something soft touches the back of your head and you realize the kind stranger must have balled up some clothing for you to rest on.

The sun is still high in the sky and your vision is slowly coming back to normal, when you focus on the face of your savior—before nearly passing out again.

It’s the town Sheriff, Kim Namjoon. The very man you’ve harbored a secret crush on for years.  

You’ve watched him become a deputy and work his way up the ranks. He was a gentleman, and the bravest man in town. He battled some of the fiercest bank robbers and thieves in the county and always came back victorious. He was prime husband material.

That is, if you had ever spoken a more than a single word to him.

He’d work for your father on your ranch often, helping with mending fences or shoeing horses. He’d sit at your dinner table and graciously eat the soup, dumplings and pie you’d make special for him and thank you with a tip of his hat—then be off, back to saving the town, before you could even build up the courage to tell him ‘good evening’.

“How you feelin’?” He asks tenderly, cupping your cheek and pushing your mused hair behind your ear as best as he could.

It’s hard to speak—equal parts in pain from the fall and stunned from the beautiful man staring you down.

“H-hurts,” you whisper, licking your lips.

Namjoon’s eyes follow where your tongue trails over your chapped lips and swallows hard.

“I bet. You took quite the fall there.”

You close your eyes, remembering the terrifying moment you fell off. The horse had been so frightened, so ablaze...

Suddenly, you remember your father’s prize stallion. He had likely run off while you laid unconscious in the dirt.

“Oh, no!” Your eyes fly open. “Bang!”  You try to sit up, but Namjoon shushes you and gently guides you back down.

“He’s all right, miss.  He’s eating an apple, as happy as can be.”

“Oh, praise the lord,” you sigh. “Papa would tan my hide.”

Namjoon chuckles and nods.  

“Brave of you to take that beast out for a ride. You think you can sit up?”

You nod, and with his strong, gorgeous hands assisting you, you sit up straight.

He offers you the waterskin in his hands. “Here, have some water. You’ll need it for that headache.”  

“What headache—owww,” you groan as the sudden pounding in your head echoes the pounding of the horses’ hooves galloping out of town. Namjoon chuckles and pats down your hair—picking out dirt and leaves.

“Once you feel back to sorts, I’ll wrangle Bang up to my horse so you can ride with me, and I’ll take you home.”

The water from the skin is cool and you sigh as it coats your dry throat, eyes closing in bliss.  Namjoon keeps his eyes on you for a moment, watching the way you drink.  He nearly groans as a bit falls from your lips, trails your neck and down onto your pretty chest. It slips past your clothes, where his eyes can no longer follow it, and he shakes himself back to propriety.  

“Thank you,” you speak as you swallow the water and hand back the skin. “I needed that.”

Namjoon nods solemnly, tucking the skin back to his holster belt before standing up.

“You stay there and rest while I get Bang tied up, alright?”

You’re hopeless to deny any request from the handsome sheriff, and you’re nodding your assent before you try to fight back on feeling better.

Instead, you watch as the tall man stands and strides over to Bang, cooing gently at the enormous beast and patting his nose for a moment to calm any lingering nerves the horse may have.

Your mind wanders and you suddenly envision a future with the sheriff—watching him tend to your horses while you cook dinner and mind the children. You imagine him herding you into your bedroom and pushing you deep into your featherbed, dripping cock aching to slide into your warmth as he whispers how much he loves you into your ear.

You’re only snapped out of your fantasy when the man of your dreams approaches once more, a bridled horse at his side as he slips the reins through his own horse’s saddle to guide him back to town.

“You all right there, little lady? You looked a little dazed.”

Your cheeks heat and you nod, quickly trying to dispel the embarrassment.

He sticks his hand out and you watch as your small hand fits in perfectly to his grip, and he tugs you up with ease; the momentum of the pull has you being pulled directly into his chest.

“T-thank you,” you murmur breathlessly. The sheriff stares down at you, eyes fixed on your own before they glance at your lips as if it’s his last wish to press his own there.

He’s silent for a moment as he holds you against his chest, then rights himself and backs away.

“You’re welcome, ma’am. Glad to help.”

Namjoon lifts you onto his own horse and your heart stutters at the feel of his hands gripping your waist. It’s warm where he touches and you wonder what his hands would feel like touching you everywhere. You imagine his hands would feel like a dying campfire on your bare skin, deceivingly scorching hot.

He saddles up behind you and wraps his arms around you, gripping the reins as he clicks his tongue at his horse to start a slow trot back towards town.

The gentle trot of the horse makes your chest heave and fall, bouncing with each step the horse takes. Namjoon glances down and can see the way your breasts jiggle and bites his tongue.  You look enchanting—dirty skirt and ripped blouse from the fall. Namjoon only wishes he had been the one to dirty you and rip your clothes. His cock hardens against his will and he prays to god you don’t feel his arousal poking you in the back and prays he can get you to town before you realize and slap him into the next county.

And you definitely notice.

Your cheeks heat to hotter than the summer sun and you swallow hard to dispel some ache in your chest. Your core suddenly feels desperate for attention and you can almost imagine the way his hands would feel rubbing at your needy clit, whispering filth into your ear as he coaxed orgasm after sobbing orgasm from within you.

“Are you goin’ to the square dance tomorrow night?” Namjoon suddenly asks you, attempting to distract himself away from his rising cock.

In the chaos of your frightful ride out of town, and the bliss of being pressed up against the handsome sheriff, you had forgotten all about the annual square dance held at the town saloon.  Drinks, dancing, and fiddlin’ festivities were always bound to happen.

“Oh, it must have slipped my mind,” you say. “But, I suppose I could get Papa out of the house.  He has an eye on that new schoolteacher.”

Namjoon laughs, and it warms your heart. He’s taken special care of your father as much as you have ever since your mother died years ago.

“I think she has her eye on him, too.”

You hum, deep in thought of your lonely father, and Namjoon squeezes your hip with his free hand.

“Well, I hope to see you there.”

The blush returns right as Namjoon’s horse strides up to your homestead. Your father must have seen you coming and runs out of the house and down the steps to collect you.

“Oh, thank the good lord!” He breathes as he pulls you into his chest. You smile and return your father's warm embrace, suddenly feeling comforted.

“Sheriff Kim, I owe you a lifetime for rescuing my little girl.”

Namjoon smiles at you and winks, before looking back at your father and pulling his hat off tenderly.

“Just doing my duty, sir.”

Something twinges in your heart, as you’re reminded Namjoon saved you out of dedication to the badge than any memorable feelings towards you.

“Plus,” he continues. “It’s already a reward when the little lady is as pretty as this one.”

There’s that stupid blush again. Your father claps Namjoon on the shoulder and then brings the sheriff in for a hug, with a cheerful laugh.

“Now, you best be careful how you speak, son. I can’t threaten the sheriff with my .22 when he’s courtin’ my daughter.”  His demeanor radiates his joking manner with Namjoon, but the sheriff’s eyes still widen like he’s a teenager again.

Your cheeks, already pink, flame red with embarrassment.  

“Papa!” You admonish. “Leave Namjoon alone! He didn’t mean nothin’ by it!”

Namjoon’s smile fades back to a solemn and stoic look as he unhooks the stallion still attached to his own.

“Here you go,” he murmurs as he hands the reins to your father. “He’s just fine, too.”

Papa nods, and Namjoon replaces his hat and bows his head in acknowledgment.

“Good evening, sir,” he motions to your father. “And to you, miss. I reckon I’ll see you at the dance tomorrow.”

You nod, licking your lips again without knowing it. Namjoon begs his cock to behave, especially in front of your father.

“Thank you, Sheriff. And I reckon you will.”

He saddles up, and rides off into the sunset. Your eyes remain on his disappearing silhouette and your father fondly flicks your ear.

“That fellow likes you,” he nods at the retreating man. “And you just had to hold a candle for the goddamn sheriff.”

He ‘tsks’ jokingly, before slinging his arm around your shoulder and guiding you up towards the house.

“How the hell am I supposed to scare a boy off my daughter when he’s got more guns than me!”

You snort under your breath and lean into your father's hold.  

“Oh, Papa.”

You can hear the music pouring from the saloon the moment you walk up. Papa stands next to you outside and anxiously fixes his hair.

“You think Ms. Lainey will be here tonight?” He asks.  He tries not to look worried, but you can read him like a book.

Your hands smooth out his crisp, dress shirt and adjust his handsome bowtie.

“Yes, Papa. I reckon she will, lookin’ prettier than a sunflower.”

His eyes lock on yours, full of gentle emotion that you haven’t seen since your mother passed.

“You think this is fine?”

He looks concerned—worries he’s perhaps moving on too soon from your mother when she’s been gone and buried for years now. You can’t help but feel a bullet through your heart for the older man. He raised you to an adult, tended to an entire ranch, and maintained his sanity in the depths of his depression.

“Yes, Papa,” you soothe. “Mama would want you to be happy. I think Ms. Lainey is the perfect person to help you with that. Plus, I hear she makes a killer cornbread.”

Papa smiles and pinches your cheek gently.

“You’re just like your Mama,” he muses with a fond smile. “A smart ass. But a beautiful one.”

“Papa!”

“Hey,” he grins as he holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m not a liar. Now, let’s go in there and find that handsome sheriff, shall we?”

“Papa, please. Don’t embarrass me!”

“Well, too damn bad. That’s my job as your father.”

He pushes past you and through the swinging doors of the saloon.

Damn that old man.

Namjoon spies you the second you walk into the wooden saloon. You look like a princess, if he’s ever seen one.

Your blue dress hugs your curves just right and sweeps to the floor. It looks soft and Namjoon wonders what it would feel like under his fingertips. Tender, gentle, just like you.

He sets his bottle of beer down—he’s been nursing it for half an hour now, unwilling to get drunk or even tipsy tonight. Not out of some sense of duty—he had plenty of deputies around to keep the peace, but out of hope that you would come. He didn’t want to be drunk around you.  

He watches as you whisper into your father’s ear and gesture towards one corner of the room.  Namjoon tracks your gaze and sees you’re both looking at the new schoolteacher, Ms. Lainey who wears a pink blush that matches her pretty, pink dress. Your father kisses your cheek softly, before leaving your side and making his way towards the teacher.

Namjoon shoves the barely touched bottle of beer towards the barkeep, Jungkook.

“The hell you want me to do with it?” He asks incredulously to the sheriff.

Namjoon sends a look to his longtime friend.

“Fuck if I care, Kook. I’m busy!”

Jungkook grumbles under his breath as Namjoon turns away.

He weaves through the crowd towards you, keeping you locked in his vision. He hopes to keep you all to himself tonight, especially with you looking as ravaging as you do in that gown.

He nearly makes it to you when Jackson Wang slides in and wraps an arm around your waist.  He can see your face fall when you realize who it is. Jackson is your ex-boyfriend, and a shitty one at that.

“Come on, pretty baby,” he attempts to woo. “Let me have just one dance.”

“I said I’m not interested, Jackson.”

“Oh, I know you said that, but I don’t think you meant it.”

Namjoon clears his throat from where he stands behind you. You both turn in surprise towards the officer.

“I think the lady said what she meant.”

Jackson narrows his eyes at Namjoon and grips you tighter.

“And who the hell do you think you are!”

Namjoon opens the coat of his suit, giving Jackson an eye-full of the loaded revolver clipped to his side.

Jackson seems to get the picture and shoves you off him—Namjoon is quick to steady your uneven gait from the assault.

Namjoon whistles for Jimin, his deputy, and instructs the eager young officer to escort Jackson off the premises.

“You’re lucky I’m not having him take you to the Big House tonight.”

Jackson rolls his eyes and spits on the floor at your feet.

“Fuck you, Sheriff.”

Jimin shoves Jackson out the door and follows him out to ensure the man stays well-away from the dance tonight.

Your eyes are downcast when Namjoon returns his glance at you.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

The sheriff hushes you and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, just as he did before when he found you lying on the ground.

“Now, now,” he whispers as he steps closer. “I don’t want to hear none of that talk. You didn’t do nothin’.”

He slips a finger under your chin and brings your face to peer at his own. The violins change their tune from carefree to a soft ballad.

“Care to dance?” He offers.

You smile and nod after a beat of silence, taking his proffered hand and slipping your other to hold on to his firm shoulder. He looks handsome in his suit, much different from the Wranglers he wears to work. This suit is cream, and feels like fine silk under your fingertips. You wonder if he ordered it from the general store or if he rode his horse to the big city for it. It fits him like a glove and you silently thank the town tailor for his work, allowing you a tease of the man’s brilliant muscles and toned body under his clothing.

Namjoon’s hand slides around your waist—attempting to remain as proper as he can. He doesn’t want to give the town anything to gossip about, but the way your dress and waist feel underneath his palm make him nearly forget all his manners. His mother would kill him if she saw the way he continued to press in close to the woman, hoping to feel her bountiful chest press against his own.

“I’m glad you came,” Namjoon breathes as your feet move in time with his. “I was worried you weren’t gonna show.”

Your cheeks tickle a rosy hue, and Namjoon nearly melts.

“I’m sure you would have found another lucky lady to dance with.”

Namjoon hums as he spins you around, grip tightening on your waist.

“Maybe so,” he agrees. “But they wouldn’t be the girl I was hopin’ to dance with.”

Your throat feels tight.

“And who might that be?”

“The girl I’m dancing with right now.”

Something within you burns like a roaring flame, and you push forward to press your lips to his own. It stuns Namjoon; he doesn’t move until his brain finally catches up and he’s kissing you in return, deep and passionate. He pulls his hand out of yours to wrap around your waist completely, bringing you up to his chest as his tongue prods for entrance at your mouth.

You eagerly accept him, allowing his tongue purchase in the hot cavern of your lips, and you whine needily against him as you feel a bulge grow between his legs.

“Sheriff,” you whisper, pulling away from his lips.

“Namjoon,” he breathes desperately. “Please, call me Namjoon.”

“Okay, Namjoon.” He smiles and dives in to kiss you again when you pull away.

“Please, Namjoon, can we go somewhere else? Papa’s here…”

Your cheeks are red-hot and Namjoon chuckles, glancing around. Your father is busy enough as it is, dancing with the schoolteacher but he nods.

He grabs your hand and tugs you towards the bar, getting Jungkook’s attention.

“You back for that beer?” He asks with a grunt.

“Nah, gimme the key to a room upstairs.”

Jungkook eyes you standing behind the sheriff, bashful.

“Can’t even wait to get her home, now? Ain’t that the rancher’s daughter? He’s right over there! You’re really going to--”

“Jungkook!  The key, please!”

The barkeep rolls his eyes as he digs under the countertop for a large skeleton key and slides it to Namjoon.

“Down the hallway, first door on the left. The presidential suite.”

He winks at the sheriff who rolls his eyes and drags you up the stairs. You pray to any god listening that your father remains distracted with the schoolteacher.

Namjoon unlocks the door and allows you to enter first, giving you a chance to glance around the spacious room. There’s a copper bathtub, a fireplace, and a large feather-bed that looks divine.

“Wow,” you whisper. “Never been in a saloon bedroom before.”

Namjoon chuckles as he sets the heavy key on the dresser, loosening his tie.

Suddenly, you’re nervous. The implications of being here have your hands trembling and body feeling flustered. You’re not the kind of girl who fools around, nor are you the kind to simply open her legs for the first handsome officer who looks her way. You hadn’t even gone all the way with Jackson when you were with him. Now that it’s happening, you wonder if you’ve gotten far too ahead of yourself.

Namjoon notices the look on your face and crosses the floor easily to cup your face between his palms.

“Hey now, why the long face?”

Your eyes peer into his, shame washing over you. You want so badly to lie with the man in bed, in every sense, but you’re terrified.

“I’ve…” you swallow hard. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

The sheriff smiles and rubs under your eyes with the pad of his thumb. It’s comforting and having him this close to you makes your body feel like you’re close to the hearth of a fireplace.  Warm, soothed.

“And you don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do, little lady. Thought we should just get out of the crowd.”

Your heart feels like it may just beat out of your chest completely. Namjoon is holding you, staring at you like you’re a treasure.  

“I want you, Namjoon. I’ve wanted you my whole damn life.”

Namjoon brings his face right up to yours, lips a mere breath away.

“And I want you.”

You close the space between your lips, finally re-acquainting yourself with his taste and the feel of his plushy mouth against yours. He tastes like hops and sweet mint. Your hands slide down to claw at his sides, gripping the fabric of his coat jacket in your balled-up hands.  

The kiss doesn’t remain chaste for long. You’re soon pushing off his coat, tugging down his suspenders and unbuckling his pants.

“Easy there,” he whispers as your hand tugs at his boxers. “We have all night.”

Inhaling through your nose, you nod. He’s right. There’s no reason to rush into this.  

“Plus,” he adds. “It’s not very fair that I’m nearly stark naked and you’re still in this pretty little number.”

Namjoon kneels down, thick fingers untying the laces of your heeled boot, and holding your ankles stable as he slips them off your feet.

He kisses your soft ankles, presses his lips to your shins and calves as if he’s worshiping you.  He thinks this is better than Sunday service, anyway.

The sheriff stands back up and his fingers move around to the back of your dress, easily finding the zipper and tugging down ever-so-softly. The fabric comes off your shoulders without issue, and soon pools at your bare feet. His eyes are soft as they travel over your body, left in only your silk panties and brassiere.

“There.” He whispers it like a prayer. “You’re so beautiful.”

The tone of his voice makes your body feel like it’s blazing—like the fire of whiskey as it pours down your throat. It burns, but it warms every single inch of you from the inside out.

“Namjoon, I don’t just want you for one night.”

Your anxieties pour out of your mouth with little thought. You wish you could hold back, just enjoy the moment. Your stomach twists and turns as he unbuttons the dress shirt and keeps his eyes locked on yours.

“That’s good,” he nods. “Because I don’t want you for one night, neither.”

Your hands slip onto his bare stomach, pushing the sleeves of his shirt off. His skin is hot, and firm. He feels like a dream. The shirt comes off easily and you gape at the artwork that is his chiseled chest.

“Oh my,” you gasp. Namjoon preens, enjoying your shameless gaze.

“All of this is for you,” he murmurs gently, watching the heated stare pull from his pecs to his eyes.

“M-me?”

He nods again and fingers the strap of your bra.

“I want you to be my girl,” he says. “I want to come home from a hard day and see my lovely little wife in our home. I’ll even get you a horse.”

You can’t help the smile that crosses your face.

“One that won’t buck me off in the middle of nowhere?”

He nods, slipping the strap down your shoulder.

“And if he does, your strong and handsome husband will be there to rescue you, every time.”

Your tongue soothes over your kiss-swollen lips as you listen to him and allow him to slowly remove your remaining articles of clothing. The bra straps fall off your arms easily and you let him work his hands around your back to undo the clasp.

“I want to make love to you every night,” he breathes. “Maybe get you nice and pregnant with my child.”

Your bra falls to the floor and his warm hands rub at your stomach, where a swell could be.

“Would you still help Papa?” You ask, hazy and dreamily.

“Every day, darlin’. I’d be the best son-in-law. Give him grandbabies to spoil rotten.”

He doesn’t say anymore—he couldn’t if he tried. Your lips are smashing against his and you’re pressing your soft, bare breasts to his firm chest and his mind is actively shutting down. All he can think of is you, your body, your hands, your mouth, and most of all, that sweet cunt. It’s still hidden behind a layer of silk, but he knows it will be the dreamiest place he’ll ever be, and one he doesn’t intend to leave often.

“Will you take me home tonight? To your home?” Your eyes are hopeful as you pull away to question him. Something about it all makes you want to make love to him all night long, in his bed. You want to wake up with him in the morning and cook together, only to get distracted and make love again on the kitchen table.

“I would love to.”

Your hands push down his pants and you’re gasping as his hard cock springs free from the slacks. It’s thick, and it slaps at his stomach once, leaving a smear of slick wetness where it hit.

“Lay down, princess,” he murmurs into your ear, tucking a piece of hair behind. It seems to be his trademark, and it sends shivers down your spine.

You obey wordlessly, laying back onto the bed and resting your head on the fluffy pillows.

Namjoon stands above you and gazes at your form, allows himself to breathe in the vision of you, nearly naked and waiting for him.

He crawls onto the bed and hovers over you, fingers trailing up your soft legs before rubbing at your clothed core. There's a patch of wetness there, and your trembling whimper tells Namjoon you’re just as eager as he is.

He settles himself in between your legs and inhales the scent of your pussy. It smells of fine silk, and of your arousal. You’re embarrassed, he can tell as your legs threaten to close, but he moves his hands to your thighs and holds them down as he licks a fat stripe up your soaked panties.

“Mmm,” he breathes. “Delicious.”

Your legs are trembling now and he flickers his eyes up to yours, gauging your reaction. Your head tips back in bliss, hands cupping your breasts.

“Do you like that, darlin’?” He asks.

Your head tips back down to stare at him, heat shining in your shimmery orbs.

“Is this okay?”  He wants to know you’re just as eager as he is and has no interest in taking advantage.

You nod pathetically, legs spreading open further for him.

“I want you.”

Namjoon lets his fingers run up to the top of your panties and keeps his gaze on yours as he peels them down and off your legs.  They’re drenched, and he whines when he uses two fingers to open your lips further and expose your soaked hole.

“Shit,” he grunts, tentatively kitten licking your sensitive clit.  

It sends radiating static and shock through you. No one’s ever touched you there—no one but yourself on lonely nights with dreams of the handsome sheriff.

Namjoon catches your hitched breath, your shuddering sighs, and continues gently.  His tongue licks tiny stripes up and down your quaking clit and enjoys the way your arousal seeps out of you.  He knows you’re a virgin, knows he needs to take his time to open you up for him.  And he plans on making it an experience you never forget.

“That’s right,” he breathes as he pulls away and licks his lips.  “My girl doing so well.  You like it when I lick your pretty clit?  Does it feel good?”

You nod your agreement and open your mouth to respond, but Namjoon quickly places his lips over the sensitive nub and suckles gently.  Your words turn into a throaty scream, back arching impossibly at the sensation.  

He brings a hand up and teases your slit with a finger as he introduces you to a new world of sexual awakening.  His tongue roves over your clit as he keeps a constant vacuum seal around it with his lips.   Ever so gently, his finger prods past your folds and slips inside the wet heat of your channel.

His cock leaps at the sensation on his finger.  You’re impossibly tight and drooling with juices and Namjoon’s tongue moves from your clit to lap at the slick.   You taste so sweet.   He can’t wait to acquaint himself with every inch of your body, especially the sweet spot here between your thighs.

“Oh! Oh, God!” You scream as your tug at your nipples.  Namjoon can tell by the tightening of your channel you’re near the edge.   He slides another finger in and fucks you gently with them, spreading open your heat ever so slightly so the stretch of his cock isn’t so hard to take.  

“Cum for me, baby,” he coaxes.  “Fall apart for your sheriff.”

Your eyes squeeze shut tight, stomach flexing hard as the band within you coils tighter and tighter until it blissfully snaps and your core is pulsating around his fingers like a grip.

Namjoon groans with your pretty cries of pleasure, watching the way your cunt milks his fingers and drools juice.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers as he gently pulls his fingers from within you.  “You did so well.”

Your blush on your cheeks matches the rosy hue on your chest as you pant—attempting to bring yourself back to earth and right your breathing.

“That—, that was amazing.”

Namjoon presses one solid kiss to your thigh.

“You, my love, are amazing.”

You’re lifting yourself up on your elbows to peer down at him, whining gently for his attention.

“Will you kiss me, Namjoon?”

“I’ve got you all over my lips,” he says but you shake your head.

“Kiss me.”

Namjoon nods and crawls up your body, eagerly pressing his mouth to yours in a heated kiss.  It’s intimate, and fiery as much as it is gentle and exploratory.  Namjoon kisses you like he found the girl of his dreams—because he has.

After long, blissful minutes of rolling around in the bed with his lips attached to yours, you pull away and glance at his hardened cock.

“I’ve never,” you swallow as you allow your fingertips to graze the tip.  “I’ve never put one in my mouth before.”

Namjoon’s sensitive glaze over his eyes returns.

“You don’t have to, darlin’.”

“But I want to.  Will you let me know if I do something wrong?”

He nods once, and you adjust him to sit at the head of the bed, back against the headboard while you crawl down between his legs.

You allow yourself a few, long moments to simply stare at his length.  It’s hard, flushed with excitement, and drooling a substance from his head that makes your mouth salivate.  It has a soft, gentle curve to it you can only imagine will feel like heaven inside of you.

“You like it?”  Namjoon asks gently, without pride.  He looks sincere, like your opinion on his cock matters to him.

“I love it.”

You mouth at it gently, before opening wide to accept him in.

“C-careful, darlin’,” Namjoon warns. “It’s big—might not fit in your throat.”

Your eyes simper up at him for a moment, before you continue your plight and accept his length into your mouth.

You take it slow, torturously slow to him.  You take your time to get acquainted with the feeling of his cock filling your mouth before you continue to take more and more until all at once he’s at the back of your throat and your nose is pressed to his toned abdomen.

Namjoon whines out loud, feels his brain turn to mush and his eyes roll to the back of his skull.

“Good lord,” he whispers.  Your eyes are watering with tears and your gag reflex protests against the intrusion, so you quickly pull back out.

“Did I do okay?” You ask.

Namjoon’s cock throbs where it sits, right at the tip of your lips.

“You did fucking perfect, baby.”

It’s easy to see the pride flash across your face and you move to accept him all at once but he stops you.

“Don’t hurt yourself, doll.   You can just move your mouth on it.”  He grips the back of your head ever so gently and helps you descend, taking just enough to fill your mouth before he assists you in pulling back out.  “Mmm, yeah, like that. Hollow those cheeks—shit, you’re a natural.”

You preen and bob on his length without the guidance of his hand.   He drops his hands to push the hair from your face and as you work his cock in your mouth with surprising finesse.   A groan builds deep in his chest and he can feel his balls tighten and threaten to empty onto your pretty lips.  But, he can’t have that.

He taps your cheeks gently, forcing you to look back at him.  He nearly cums from the sight alone.  Your big, beautiful eyes staring into his soul as if he’s lasso’d the stars just for you.   Your mouth is full of his cock like it’s your home and Namjoon knows that it’s everywhere he wants you to be.

“I wanna cum inside that sweet pussy of yours, darlin’.”

You pull off with a pop, eyes widening at the sound and Namjoon thinks you look prettiest with a dusty blush across your cheeks—a color that matches the pink of your perky nipples.

“Lay down for me, baby,” he encourages, moving from the spot on the bed and allowing you to rest your pretty head on the down pillow.

He kisses over your neck and breasts sweetly, imprinting his adoration for you with each press of his lips.  He laves over your nipples gently as he situates himself between your thighs.  His hand grasps his cock and lines it up at your entrance, but doesn’t push in yet.  He allows your dripping slick to coat the head of his cock as he warms your body up with his lips.

“You’re the prettiest girl in town.  Hell, even the whole county.”

You whimper gently as he takes a nipple into his mouth and grazes it with his teeth.  

“You wanna be my girl?  You wanna be the Sheriff’s little wife?”

You nod and Namjoon peers up at you, eyes expectant for a verbal answer.

"Please” you whisper.  “I’ve been sweet on you since I first met you, years ago.”

The sheriff licks your nipples gently.

“My pretty wife,” he coos.  “You ready?”

Your legs tremble—a mixture of nerves and excitement as the man lifts himself up and kneels between your parted folds.   His cock feels thick and hot at the entrance of your heated core and you’re gasping for more.

Namjoon presses forward and takes his time as he enters you, knowing the stretch will be new for you.  He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves in, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting of his cock.

It feels like heaven and hell.  The sting burns you, but it easily simmers down to a low flame of desire, of pleasure.  Namjoon licks into your mouth and you eagerly accept him, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer.   His tongue explores and seeks purchase—you’re loath to deny the handsome officer as you return the actions easily.

He pulls his lips away as he bottoms out inside you, panting.  He needs the stillness, himself.  Your cunt is so tight, so hot and accepting of his hard cock that he feels near the edge of his sanity already.  

“You all right, love?” He asks, eyes checking yours for any signs of trouble.  

The burn quickly ebbs away to nothing more than a slight smolder.  He fills you completely, and it feels like he’s making a home for himself within you—one you’re welcome to him constructing again and again.

“Yes,” your voice is deep and husky.  Your eyes are ablaze with a sudden passionate need for more.  “Please, show me how it’s done, cowboy.”

Namjoon needs no more—he pulls his hips back gently and thrusts back into you with ease.  You’re soaked, and the slide is tight, but slick.  He moans gently as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin there and to whisper his sweet nothings as he sets a pace.

“You feel like heaven,” he whispers.  “God, I’ve dreamed of the way you would feel underneath me.”

Your legs open even further to allow more of him and his pace eagerly picks up speed. The sound of skin slapping on skin soon fills the room and Namjoon continues his litany of love.

“Doin’ so good for me, baby, so fuckin’ good. You’re the perfect little wife for me. This cunt was meant for me, wasn’t it, my sweet?”

Speaking coherently is not a task you can handle now.  Namjoon’s cock is fucking into you with a depth and speed that feels like fucking paradise and all your brain can comprehend are his sweet epithets he whispers to you and the way your core burns and sizzles with need.  You can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tight, tight, tighter.  You’re nearly at the end.

“I wanna fill you up, my love.” His pace is becoming erratic, with less finesse as he charges towards his own finish line.  “Going to fuck a baby into you, darlin’.  Get you nice and full—fuuuuck, cum for me, please.  Let me feel that hot cunt cum around my cock.”

His words burn your ears with depravity, but it only forces that tight coil even further.  It pulls until it nearly steals all the breath in your lungs as it throws you over the edge.   Your walls pulse and constrict around him, making him whine out loud to match the crying whimpers of your climax.

“That’s my girl, oh god, I’m gonna cum.”

It’s all the warning you get before the hot stripes of his seed plaster your walls, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pools deep inside you.  Your whines silence as he presses his lips to yours while his cock continues to shudder within you.   He kisses you hard, deeper than you’ve ever been kissed before and you hold him so close to you, you fear you may never separate again.  Not that it would be a bad thing.

“Shit,” Namjoon sighs as he finally feels his climax subside.   His cock finishes its weak pulses, and he gently pulls out of your spent hole, watching his seed drool out of you.  

“Mm, I think your little pussy needs to look like this every single night, don’t you?”

You peer down, leaning up on your elbows to watch as his white cum dribbles out of you and onto the feather bed.

“Yes, Sheriff.”  Your smile is coy and sweet, a hint of humor in your worn out voice.

He scurries to the bathroom to get a warm, wet flannel and returns to your legs to clean you carefully.  Your heart feels like it may burst. He cares for you so sweetly, wants you comfortable—wants you to feel loved.

“Take me home, cowboy,” you whisper as he presses his lips to your legs after he finishes cleaning you.  

Namjoon assists you in dressing, kisses all over your bare skin as he laces you back into your dress. You both can’t stop staring at each other, eyes filled with promise and a future full of each other and no one else.

He guides you down the stairs, back towards the dance and you try to fight the blush that blooms on your cheeks.  You’re sure your mused hair tells everyone in the room what you got up to upstairs, and you pray your father has left early.

Namjoon slides the key back to Jungkook once they reach the bar, his other hand tightly laced with your own.  Jungkook gives you both a look, then smirks.

“Your Papa asked your whereabouts,” he muses as he dries a glass with a rag.

His smirk grows wider.

“Told him you were shining the Sheriff's gun. Looks like I was right.”

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

#bts smut #bts namjoon #namjoon smut #bts fic #kim namjoon #rm #rapmonster #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon au #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts cowboy #bangtan #bhqdrabbles #bangtanheadquarters #ficswithluv #heartsforbts #hyungsmutclub #ksmutclub #lainey is a teacher in this one #we'll see what she is in the next one

[ppersonna]

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.

#bts smut #bts namjoon #bts fic #bts fics #bts rm #bangtanarmynet #hyungsmutclub #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #plotsofpastel #heartsforbts #namjoon smut #rm smut #bangtan smut