#kimnamjoonxreader

Since Yoongi's wedding, Han Byeol had a lot of sleepless nights, prowling around in the small hours, tortured by thoughts of Yoongi making babies with Choon Hee...babies which should've been hers. All she ever wanted was to be Yoongi's wife and the mother of his children. Not the kind of ambition applauded by the teachers at the expensive boarding school where as she and her sister had been sent to learn to be "ladies". That had been Gran's idea. Though Gran's own origins were humble, she was a tremendous snob and hadn't approved of her eighteen-year-old Niaowie marrying a rough diamond like Park Jimin, even if he had gone on to make pots of money.

Gran wanted to see her granddaughters marrying men who were not only well off but also what she called well-spoken. To that end she had chivied her son-in-law into sending the girls to one of the most expensive and exclusive schools in England. To Gran's disappointment, her eldest grand daughter, Hyeonji, had fallen in love with a young man who had once spent a summer working in her mother's garden. He now had his own plant nursery and was a contented man., but he didn't make a lot of money. Jungkook and Hyeonji couldn't afford to support her mother. With two small children and another on the way, they didn't have a spare bedroom to offer her.

Had Gran known of Han Byeol's secret passion for the chauffeur's son, she would have disapproved, at least until his achievements at university had signaled an impressive future. The irony was that Gran would probably regard Kim Namjoon as a wonderful catch. She didn't think much of love as a basis for wedlock. She wouldn't admit it under torture, but her granddaughters suspected there had been a metaphorical shotgun in the background of her wedding, and the marriage hadn't been happy.

In the morning Han Byeol woke with a headache, result of too little sleep and too much wine the night before. Staying up late, she had finished the bottle. She spent the morning sorting out things in her bedroom and waiting for Kim Namjoon's call. When her cellphone remained silent, she should have been relieved. Instead she felt oddly uneasy.

What if he changed his mind? What if her animosity had made him have second thoughts? During his solitary dinner he might have decided he couldn't be bothered to wear down her opposition when there were plenty of women he could have for the asking. The longer she considered this scenario, the more it seemed to Han Byeol that she might have rejected in haste an opportunity she would live to regret turning down. As things stood, all the future offered was relative penury for her mother and a dull job for herself. It wasn't an attractive prospect.

The trade off Namjoon had suggested, suddenly she found herself thinking of him by the first name instead of his surname. Would mean they were miserable in comfort. But what about her side of the trade off; being the wife of a man she didn't love and who didn't love her?

Well, love, for long the first item on her private and personal wish list, had been crossed off the day Yoongi married Choon Hee. So that brought it down to the question of whether she could have sex with someone other than Yoongi in order to have some babies. They wouldn't have the father she dreamed of, but any father had to be better than none.

Thinking of sex with Namjoon, Han Byeol felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. He had all the physical makings of a good lover; his aura of animal magnetism deriving from a great body, a sensual mouth, hands that looked strong enough to crush, but also capable of performing the most delicate and subtle caresses. Just thinking about the components of his disturbing personality sent strange little quivers through her.

Even though still a virgin, her innocence saved as a gift for her first and only love, Han Byeol knew all the theory, knew what those frissons meant. She had recognized the passionate depths of her nature a long time ago. From the beginning of adolescence she had been excited and moved by amorous scenes in books and movies, recognizing her capacity to feel the same fiery emotions as the women in the stories and on the screen. But she also had a streak of idealism. After falling in love with Yoongi, keeping herself inviolate for him had seemed more important than indulging her natural curiosity about what it felt like to do things many of the other girls in her class had experienced as soon as they were sixteen.

A lot of them were the over-indulged, under disciplined children broken marriages. During the holidays they had too much pin money and not too much supervision. Several girls knew by sight hadn't completed their time at school. They had been expelled for serious misdemeanors raging from night time truancy to drugs. Fortunately although described as "lazy", "inattentive" and "irresponsible" in her school reports, Han Byeol had never been taken up by the group known to the serious minded girls at The Decadents. The fact that she was reserving herself for Yoongi would have debarred her from that clique. Although far from being a teacher's pet, from The Decadents' point of view Han Byeol was one of the girls they called The Nuns.

She was thinking about her lack of sexual experience and wondering what conclusions the detective had drawn about her in that respect, when the phone started to ring. She forced herself not to grab it, letting it ring six times before she said coolly, "Hello?"

"Good morning..."

If the distinctive voice at the other end of the line had mocked her about not leaving the phone off the hook, she would have cut the connection and dashed round the flat disconnecting all the extensions and turning her mobile off. But Namjoon didn't refer to her parting shot. He said, "I'd like to show you my library. Will you have lunch with me?"

She drew in her breath, knowing she was on the brink of one of the defining moments of her life. "If you're worried about being alone with me, you don't need to be," Namjoon went on. "My household is run by a staff who are far too respectable to stay with any employer who doesn't live up to their standards. But even if that were not so, I've already made it clear my intentions are honorable."

She could guess from the tone of his voice that there would be a sardonic quirk at the corner of his chiseled mouth. "All right," she said. "What time and where?"

When he had rung off, she looked at the exclusive address she had jotted down on the notepad and wondered why she had relented. Less than twenty four hours ago she had stormed out of his office, convinced she was out of his mind. Now she was going to have lunch with him. Had she gone out of hers? Before setting out of their lunch date, Han Byeol reread the file Namjoon sent her.

He was thirty four, six years older than herself. A bit age gap. It seemed likely that wasn't the only gulf between them. Kim, a merchant bank dealing long term loans for governments and institutions and advising one takeover bids, had been founded by his great grandfather. The controlling influence had been retained Kim Seokjin's descendants.

Unlike her father, Namjoon hadn't had to claw his way up from nothing. The facts in the file indicated that from birth he had been groomed for the position he occupied. But family influence couldn't have made him head boy at his public school if he hadn't lack the qualities needed for that position, nor it have gained him impressive degree at one of Korea's most prestigious universities. He had to have a brilliant brain.

So why pick someone as un brainy as me? Han Byeol wondered uneasily. She knew she had other equally important qualities and had never wanted to exchange them for a superior intellect. But for a man like Namjoon deliberately to select a female who operated by instinct rather than logic seemed strange, not to say suspect.

He lived in a large house in one of the most select squares in the ultra fashionable Gangnam. The butler opened the door to her and took her coat. A man in his fifties, dressed in ordinary dark suit with a discreet tie., he led her up sweeping staircase past the line of family portraits, ti a large first floor landing. As they reached it Namjoon was descending the stairs from the floor above. She noticed his dark hair was damped and wondered why. It seemed an odd time to take a shower.

It didn’t hurt that your confidence had got an unexpected boost, either - the handsome man from the dating app had actually messaged you! His name was Jin, he was a trainee veterinary nurse, and he was just as charming as you had hoped. It turned out he definitely remembered you nearly bowling him over at the cafe but luckily he’d found it funny rather than irritating, and he had even asked you out for a bite to eat at the end of the week (which you’d immediately accepted). You hadn’t had a proper date in...you couldn’t remember how long it had been, which probably wasn’t a good sign. 

Your first lecture with Namjoon’s class was on Tuesday this week, and you were glad you didn’t have more time to overthink what you had to say to him. It seemed like your semester plan had favoured you as well, because the plan for that lecture was for the students to work in groups to discuss source material and give a short presentation outlining their assignment plans. That meant that Namjoon’s attention would (hopefully) be entirely focused on his fellow students instead of on you as you drifted from group to group, for which you were extremely thankful. You didn’t know whether your resolve would have held if you had had his eyes following you around the room, like the first day you’d met him. And after all, he did have to actually pass your module, the same as any other student. 

‘Namjoon? Can I have a word, please?’ you called as the class filed out, trying to sound casual. He looked surprised for a moment, but inclined his head and walked slowly over to your desk, clearly waiting for the rest of the class to leave the room before speaking. ‘Everything okay, professor?’ he said with a flash of his dimples, hands in his pockets. There’s no backing out now, you thought. You just had to grit your teeth and tell him. You cleared your throat and looked him straight in his deep, beautiful brown eyes. ‘I need to talk to you about what happened on Friday. It can’t happen again.’  His eyes widened slightly and then narrowed as he frowned. He ran a hand through his soft hair and you had to look away so you didn’t imagine twisting your fingers into it while his face was buried between your legs. How does he do this to me? you thought, clenching your thighs involuntarily as your skin tingled. ‘Why? I thought you said you weren’t uncomfortable with me?’ ‘I’m not, but it was a mistake. It was unprofessional of me, and I’m not willing to put my position at this university at risk by crossing the line with one of my tutees.’ Regardless of how much I want to. 

Because you really did want to. Now that he was in front of you, you realised that you weren’t at all in control of the effect he had on your body. As he stood over you, all you could think about was how he had growled as he fucked you with his fingers on Friday afternoon and how hard you’d come for him, and you shivered a little. You had to stay strong, and you still had an ace up your sleeve if you needed it.

He was biting his bottom lip now and looking at you with a mixture of confusion and disappointment, and to your surprise he suddenly looked a lot more vulnerable than you would have expected him to. That vulnerability was short-lived however, because he straightened up and cupped your chin with his hand, lifting your face to look up at him like he had the first time in your office, and you knew he was about to kiss you.  ‘Y/N...are you sure?’ You so, so badly wanted to let his full, soft, lips touch yours, let him hold you and bend you over the desk and fuck you senseless. All the air in your lungs seemed to evaporate in the moments that Namjoon looked into your eyes and lowered his face to yours, and as his fingers gently stroked your cheek you felt your resolve melting away. If your lips touched, would you be able to stop yourself kissing him back? 

‘That’s enough, Namjoon! I’m transferring to Professor Johnston’s tutor group,’ you said loudly, pushing his hand away. ‘What?’ ‘You’ll be continuing in my classes and you’ll still get assignment feedback from me, but I think it’s best we don’t have tutorial sessions together any more. Now please, get out of my classroom.’ 

Namjoon didn’t say anything, but he kept his eyes on your face for a moment before turning on his heel and walking straight out of the door, not sparing a glance backwards. You let out a shaky sigh and sat down heavily in your desk chair as you covered your face with your hands. That could have gone better. But it could have gone worse too, you reflected. You’d stayed strong, and you’d pulled your ace by transferring him to Johnston’s tutor group. Johnston was one of the university’s stalwart academics - yes, he was very grey and somewhat set in his ways, but he was the one you got on best with from your department and you knew Namjoon would be in good hands with him. And there was very little danger of Johnston being affected by Namjoon’s charisma in the same way you had been, since he was married to a woman and had four lovely children of around your age.

You half-expected Namjoon to skip his next class with you (you certainly would have done, if your positions were reversed), but he turned up on the day acting like nothing had happened. In fact, he seemed to be in an unusually good mood, and even volunteered to answer some questions (not that you picked him when he put up his hand - you weren’t quite ready for that yet). You saw him talking animatedly to one of his classmates as they filed out, a pretty woman with pastel hair whose name you couldn’t quite remember at that moment, and you couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy before your common sense kicked in and told you to forget it. Namjoon had to stay at arm’s length, no matter how much you wanted him to be much, much closer than that; and fortunately, you had the date with Jin coming up in a couple of days which would be a welcome distraction. 

Friday rolled around, and you decided to head home early to prepare for your date seeing as you now had a spare tutorial slot in the afternoon. You already knew what you would wear, having spent the preceding day mentally rifling through your wardrobe, and had even hung the outfit on the back of your bedroom door to prevent last-minute changes of heart. Amazingly, you weren’t even that trepidatious; it had been so long since you’d had a date that you were just excited to ‘get back out there’, as Rosina had put it, although you couldn’t deny that the idea of seeing Jin in person again was giving you a little more nervous energy than usual. Namjoon had only crossed your mind today because you knew he’d be having his first tutorial slot with Professor Johnston, and the relief of having something else to occupy your thoughts was palpable. You’d found yourself wondering idly whether this date would end the way you hoped it would - even in your brief meeting outside the cafe, Jin’s broad shoulders and perfect lips hadn’t escaped your notice.

You had elected not to share the real reason for switching when you’d asked Johnston about moving Namjoon to his group, instead playing up to his ego by pretending you were struggling with the number of tutees you had. He’d given you a patronising smile and an ostentatiously gracious ‘Of course, my dear, no trouble at all,’ and you’d had to thank him as if he was doing you a huge favour. Which, you supposed, he was - he just had no idea what your true intentions were in shifting Namjoon to his tutor group. 

Having completed your final check of your bag and pockets for all the bits and pieces you needed to take home for the weekend (including a letter of recommendation for one of your previous students who unfortunately hadn’t impressed you once in two years of classes), you leaned down over your desk and started shutting down your computer, closing tab after tab of ‘research’ articles - really, you’d just wanted to read about a scandal at another university which had involved some sculptures of dubious origin and whispers of money changing hands under the table. There was a knock at the door, but you didn’t look up and give whoever-it-was the chance to ask you for a last-minute favour, instead saying, ‘Hello, I’m just on my way out…’ hoping they would get the hint. 

‘Ah, Y/N. I just hoped to catch you for a moment, if you don’t mind?’ The papery, slightly wheezy voice of the faculty director was not at all what you’d expected to hear. Professor Augustin was slightly stooped in his old age, but still tall and with a shock of curly white hair. He wore tortoiseshell half-moon glasses and had an air of gentility, which you knew wasn’t entirely genuine - you’d witnessed him roundly berating a teaching assistant for photocopying his lecture notes incorrectly. The poor kid had broken down in tears as soon as Augustin was safely out of sight, and you’d spent your twenty-minute lunch break consoling them while they sobbed into their hands. ‘Not at all, Professor. Please, sit down - would you like a cup of tea?’ you said quickly. He was your boss’s boss and undeniably your superior in an academic sense, having published three books in the last year alone, so it was important to keep him on your side.  ‘No thank you, dear. I will have a seat, though. The knees aren’t what they were,’ he said, lowering himself into the chair facing your desk with a little huff. You followed suit and sat down as well. ‘Now, I realise this is a little...delicate, but I thought it would be best to nip it in the bud, so to speak.’ He let out a small sigh and looked at you over his steepled fingers. You knew what was coming. ‘Y/N, I was walking past your classroom on Tuesday and couldn’t help seeing…’ You couldn’t bear to hear Professor Augustin tell you what he’d seen - you knew exactly what he was talking about. There had been a few long moments when you and Namjoon could easily have been mistaken for lovers - more than enough time for an elderly professor to shuffle unnoticed past your classroom. You spoke up straight away, interrupting as politely as you could with a deep blush in your burning cheeks.

‘That’s nothing!’ You cleared your throat, speaking more slowly. ‘Sorry - that’s nothing to worry about, Professor Augustin. Mr Kim misunderstood the nature of our relationship. I’ve just transferred him to Professor Johnston’s tutorial group, actually.’  ‘Good, good. You’re a sensible girl, aren’t you? Well, glad you’ve got your head screwed on, at least.’  You ignored the ‘girl’ comment and tried to look unabashed, but your insides were squirming with shame.  ‘Yes, sir. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,’ you said.  Professor Augustin gave you an appraising look over his glasses, and after a pause got up from the chair. He was still quite a bit taller than you, though his cardigan and comfortable loafers made him seem smaller than he was.  ‘But, Y/N, you must understand: I expect not to see anything like that again. There has been too much indiscretion in this place in recent years, and I am sure you appreciate the need to be...mindful...of our institutional reputation. Yes?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ you murmured, and you were sure you’d never blushed quite so deeply. ‘Excellent. This isn’t meant personally, of course, but I’m afraid I will have to be rather less lenient with this type of indiscretion than I have been previously. Now, do enjoy your weekend, won’t you?’ the professor said with a genial smile, and shut the door behind him.

Your date with Jin that evening unfortunately didn’t showcase you at your best. You’d been somewhat rattled by the conversation with Professor Augustin and had found it hard to put out of your mind, so you knew you’d seemed more distracted than you wanted to be; Jin didn’t seem to be too bothered though, as he’d spent much of the date face-down in a bowl of ramen. He had been sweet and funny and you’d kissed before parting ways, which is really all you could have asked for in the circumstances. On your way home, he’d messaged to tell you the punchline to a joke he’d forgotten earlier, and you found yourself smiling as you tapped out a reply. Maybe the tryst with Namjoon was just what you had needed to get your love life back on track - and the price you had paid was that Professor Augustin would be watching you a lot more closely from now on. 

a/n: did you guess who our mystery man was? ive deleted ‘semi-pwp’ from the genre list cos this is turning into a proper story! ngl, i didnt have it planned out to be more than 2-3 chapters when i started it, but im now thinking its gonna be 8-10. smut is coming up in chapter 5 so stay tuned... thank you so much for reading as always, shoot me a message if you wanna feed back (or just say hi)! and as always let me know if you wanna be tagged x