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xbaepsae · 5 years

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private tutor | part two (m)

“As you move your lips against his, you can’t stop thinking about how crazy this is. You’re kissing your tutor, and you like it. A lot more than you should.”

[tutor!namjoon x reader]

genre: college!au, humor, smut, kind of fluffy-ish

word count: 5.1k

a/n: here is part two (also a reupload). i added a few things, but besides this, it’s the same. part three will be here shortly. enjoy! xoxo

part one / part two / part three

Tomorrow comes faster than you anticipate it to.

You wake up feeling anxious; thoughts of the unknown swam back and forth through your mind most of the night, keeping you wide awake. And it also doesn’t help that you’re starting to feel your stomach sink at the thought of meeting with Namjoon later. For a brief moment, you consider not leaving your room—maybe you just won’t show up for the tutoring session. But then you think about how badly you need that passing grade in chemistry, and such anxious thoughts begin to fade away. Sort of.

“Are you seriously going to meet up with Namjoon today?” You watch Ara take a step closer to your bed, which you have not bothered to leave yet even though it’s pushing noon, with her arms crossed over her chest. Her piercing eyes give you a look that makes you want to pull your covers over your head and reconsider not going to see him again.

“I have to,” is all you can say.

Your roommate sighs, “Well then, I guess you better get out of bed—don’t you have chemistry today?”

“No,” you shake your bedhead, “she gave us the day off.”

You are referring to your professor, the lady you went to beg on your knees to that one day, who has so graciously allowed the class to have a mental health day—or really, just a day to cram information before finals come up in a few weeks. The idea is nice and all, but there is no way you can do it alone. You have never been too great at studying; that is why you really, really need Namjoon’s help.

“Damn. I wish my professors would give us mental health days too.”

In comparison to you, Ara is doing well in all of her classes. When midterms happened a month ago, she aced all of her exams. Then again, you’re not too surprised. The girl does spend an awful lot of her free time in various tutoring sessions and at the library.

“You’re doing well anyway,” you reassure her.

Ara offers you a smile before her phone beeps. “I’ve got to head to class—let me know how your day goes. I want a full report later when I see you!”

You watch her wave goodbye, and you do the same, before the door shuts and you finally get out of bed. Walking to the little sink in your room, you brush your teeth and wash the sleep out of your eyes. Once you’re done, you put some weather appropriate clothes on—it’s supposedly cooler than yesterday, thank goodness—and your makeup before grabbing your backpack and leaving the room.

Halfway down the hall of your dormitory, you suddenly realize that Namjoon never gave you a set time to meet him. Panic fills you at the thought that he could be waiting for you at this very moment. And thus, you find yourself practically running to the library.

When you get there, despite the actual cooler weather, you’re sweating and out of breath. But luckily, there’s no soon-to-be-tutor in sight yet and you’re relieved. You decide to walk inside the library and order a coffee at the miniature café inside, taking a seat by the window once the barista hands you a steaming latte. Hopefully, by sitting here, Namjoon will see you because there is no way you’re going to wait for the guy outside—especially if you don’t know when he will arrive.

To pass the time, you pull out all of your chemistry notes and attempt to order them by units and different topics. But you find this to be a little difficult since you have, unfortunately, taken pretty shitty notes. There’s one sheet you find that doesn’t even have words on in—just a page of doodles. You’re horrible, y/n. However, all is not lost since you brought your textbook. Flipping through it, you make a few mental notes on different topics that you know you’re struggling with.

You don’t know how much time has passed, but you’re so focused on your notes that you don’t notice the pair of eyes burning holes into your skin. Looking up, you see Namjoon standing right by the double doors of the library. Immediately, you freeze at his expression. Oh shit. Should you be worried? Maybe you should consider digging your own grave.

“I told you to meet me outside the library…and you’re inside.”

“I-I just,” you stutter, “I didn’t know what time you wanted to meet, so…I decided just to wait and see if you’d swing by.”

He walks to where you’re sitting and towers over you, dressed in a crisp light gray button up and fitted black jeans. His glasses sit high on his nose again today, and his hair is styled to perfection. Namjoon makes you feel awfully underdressed for the occasion, in your baggy sweater and leggings, and you don’t like it—even though you have to admit he looks really good.

“Ready to study?” his voice is like velvet, and you respond immediately by fervently nodding your head.

Namjoon looks at you for another few seconds before nodding once, turning around and walking back towards the entrance. Quickly, you shove your things back into your backpack and follow him, but it’s hard to keep up since his tall frame is able to walk much farther and faster than you. How are some people so blessed to look like that—a whole Greek god—while you look like this? It just doesn’t seem fair.

As you follow behind him, he doesn’t say anything. Despite the lack of conversation, you can’t help but notice how he walks; with his back straight and a single hand tucked into the pocket of his jeans, he walks with an air of absolute confidence. And to everyone you pass, you watch as their eyes seem to follow his every move.

But Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice—or care, really. He just goes on his way as girls practically fall to their feet before him. You don’t bother to bring this fact up; instead, you choose to just be quiet.

After walking for a few minutes, and more than halfway across campus, Namjoon takes a turn into one of the new housing buildings on campus. You only know this fact because on your first school tour, a year before you began attending, they just started creating the foundation for the building. The closer you both get to the door, he pulls out his ID card and scans it.

He pushes the slightly ajar door open and says, “Ladies first.”

You offer an awkward smile before walking in. Behind you, you hear Namjoon follow and the door shut tightly behind him.

“So, where do I go?” you ask, looking in front of you at the empty lobby of the dormitory. You turn around and take a sharp inhale when you realize how close Namjoon is. Between the two of you, only a few inches of space exists and your only reaction is to suddenly take a step back.

He smiles at your shocked state, “We can take the elevator.”

“Elevator,” you whisper more to yourself and see the shiny metal doors in the center of the lobby. You walk over there and press the button that lights up and opens the elevator doors. You tell Namjoon that he can walk in first, since he lives here, and then you follow behind him—which leaves you standing right in front of him. Fucking great.

As the doors shut, you ask him what number to press and he tells you that he lives on the third floor. You press the blinking number three button and feel the gears of the machine begin to work. The entire ride up three floors has you sweating—god, you’re sweating a lot these days—and you can feel the heat emanating off of Namjoon’s body; the scent of whatever cologne he’s wearing permeates the tight space. All of the sensory overloads makes it hard for you to think straight, and you don’t know how to shake it off.

Eventually, after what seems like years, the elevator finally reaches the third floor and you can breathe again. You walk out first, inhaling deeply, and move to the side, letting Namjoon lead the way to his room. He walks down the left side of the hall and to his door, which is the last one on the right. As he proceeds to open his door, you look around the floor and realize that there aren’t many rooms up here.

It seems like there are half the amount of rooms here, in comparison to your own dormitory hall. And it makes you curious to see the inside of his room. Namjoon unlocks his room with his keycard and pushes the door open, walking inside. The door moves further open and you’re surprised at how big his room is. It looks to be about twice the size of your own room and furnished much nicer. Also, there was a striking difference…

“You live alone?” There is only one bed.

He throws his keys onto the white duvet covering the bed and faces you. “Yes.”

“Perks of being an upperclassman, huh?” you smile, even though you’re feeling a bit envious that your living conditions are so much worse and you have to share it all with someone. But then again, you like having a roommate—or at least, you like Ara. You’ve heard horror stories about terrible roommates, so you’re happy that you and Ara get along.

“I suppose.”

You fully walk into his room and let the door fall to a close. “Ready to study?”

Namjoon has a keen ear and notices you repeated his words from earlier. He tells you to set your things on his bed and that you both can get situated at his desk. Moving some of the things on his desk around, you pull out your chemistry textbook and the notes you were looking at in the library. He tells you that you can sit in the rolling chair as he pulls another one from the corner of his room.

“So, if I ever tutor anyone,” he begins, and you catch onto his use of the word if, “I like to ask them what they already know—there’s no point in asking what you don’t understand about a subject.”

You proceed to tell him that you took basic chemistry in high school, a class you made an A in, and that’s all you remember. Clearly, your high school teacher failed you in terms of actually soaking up the information and keeping it with you forever. As you say this, he looks at you rather thoughtfully, which you appreciate. At least he isn’t looking at you like you’re an idiot.

“That’s basically it,” you conclude.

He nods, “That’s good—knowing the basics is the foundation of everything. Rome wasn’t built in one night.”

“But finals are soon.”

“Y/n, I’m positive I can bring your failing grade up to a solid C average.” In your head, the motto C’s get degrees runs continuously through your mind. You also realize that it’s the first time Namjoon has said your name all day.

You hand your notes to him and frown when he just tosses them to the side. “Hey—I worked hard on those. I even made mental notes on what I’m having trouble with.”

“You wrote gibberish.” He wasn’t lying. “We’ll just use the book—along with your mental notes.”

Over the course of the next hour or so, you sit mesmerized as Namjoon goes from unit to unit and explains everything in detail. He flips from page to page fast but condenses the information enough so that you are able to comprehend it. And surprisingly, he makes all this stuff seem easy and it actually makes sense to your brain. Slowly, but surely, you start seeing the bigger picture and how everything connects together.

“How are you so good at this?” you question as he moves onto a new chapter in the book. “I mean, aren’t you majoring in philosophy?”

You catch a small smile on his face. “I prefer spending my days reading Descartes's theories about substance, but I’m just good at everything.”

“Okay,” you laugh, rolling your eyes a bit.

“But no really, my IQ is 148 so I just pick things up easily.”

Damn. “148? That’s impressive.”

He shrugs and then quickly explains an example of thermodynamics. “You know, I like being this intelligent and all, but it can honestly become a little mundane. People become very uninteresting after a while.”

“Is that why you live alone?” you ask.

“Yes, but I also prefer to be alone as well.”

You make an o with your mouth. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m intruding then.”

The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable. But he waves your comment away. “It’s okay, y/n. I don’t mind people…once in a while.”

“Good,” you smile, and this time you mean it—teeth showing and all. And for a moment, his eyes move to your lips and lingers there. You wonder briefly if there is something in your teeth, but before you can ask he’s already flipped a page in the textbook.

Another hour goes by in a breeze and by this point, you don’t know if you can fit another bit of information in your brain. You swear that you’ve learned more in this short study session than you have the whole entire semester. It’s sad, but the truth. With all this newfound knowledge, you can feel a headache begin to pulsate at your temples and coax its way over your whole head. But you don’t voice your thoughts out loud, mainly because Namjoon is still rolling through the textbook.

Instead, you suck it up and continue writing down whatever he says. Despite your best efforts to pay attention and keep your growing headache at bay, you manage to zone out a few times. Perhaps, that is why you’re failing; you have the attention span of a fly.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?” You look at Namjoon, blinking a few times.

He sets down your chemistry book. “You’re zoning out.”

“No, I’m not,” you insist, picking up the book, “I was totally paying attention to your explanation about…” you look down at the opened page and land on the first example you see, “the different levels of energy.”

“I just turned to a random page.”

Oh god, how embarrassing. You laugh to relieve the awkward air and then clear your throat, “Okay…well, continue please.”

With your pen back in your hand and your eyes on the book, you wait for Namjoon to forget you completely didn’t pay attention to a word he said for god knows how long. But as you burn holes into the small print on paper, he doesn’t budge. What is taking him so long?

“Do I make you nervous, y/n?”

You look up from the textbook, eyes wide. What the hell? “Umm…no.”

Namjoon twists his head to the side, “So, you wouldn’t react if I did this?”

Without a warning, he begins to trail his fingertips over the fabric of your thin, legging clad thigh. He barely makes contact with your body, but you part your lips in a silent gasp anyway. This seems to produce the right reaction that Namjoon wants because he smiles widely and moves closer to you.

“I think you like me, y/n,” he says, eyes boring into yours. “But I don’t blame you, though—half this school population feels the same way.”

“For someone who claims to be somewhat anti-social, you’re so full of yourself,” you roll your eyes. “I don’t like you. I mean, I literally just met you yesterday.”

He only seems to be getting more and more amused by the minute. “Sure, but you don’t not like me.”

“Whatever,” you dismiss and focus back on your book. “Aren’t you supposed to be tutoring me, Namjoon?”

“Don’t you think your little brain has had enough today?” he asks, and he’s not wrong—you were mentally complaining about all the studying earlier. But you raise a brow at the mention of your small brain, feeling slightly insulted. Just because Kim Namjoon has an IQ of 148 doesn’t mean— “Besides, I want part of my payment now.”

The payment. Your heart begins to race in your chest. The events from your first encounter with him yesterday resurface in your mind, and you can still feel the moment he brought a finger to run along your jawline. The memory of his touch is burned in you forever.

“I’m a broke college student,” you use the phrase everyone your age uses these days as an excuse, but Namjoon doesn’t seem to have it. He shakes his head, leaning closer to you. As he moves nearer, he mentions something about money and how he doesn’t want that kind of payment from you.

“Y/n, I only tutor if it’s a mutual reciprocation; I give and you give. I have already tutored you for the majority of the afternoon—an abundance of my precious time. Therefore, for you,” he leans in closer, “it’s time to pay up.”

And before you can make another lame excuse, his lips are on yours.

He tastes of slight mint and you don’t know what comes over you, but you kiss him back. It’s a natural reaction and Namjoon seems pleased that you’re responding to his advance. As you move your lips against his, you can’t stop thinking about how crazy this is. You’re kissing your tutor, and you like it. A lot more than you should.

Slowly, you begin to feel the temperature around you start to rise and suddenly all your different layers of clothes feel too hot; too much. And it doesn’t help the fact that Namjoon has brought a hand to curve around your waist, burning through to your skin. You pull your lips away from him, feeling too warm for comfort. He frowns immediately, asking what you’re doing. You tell him it’s too damn hot in his room, which he slyly smirks and says, “I have that effect on people.”

“You’re so—” just as you’re about to call him cocky, he’s lifting the edges of your sweater over your head and off your body. “Namjoon!”

“You said it’s too hot,” he smiles, pushing the bridge of his glasses up before pulling you closer and kissing you again.

Without the extra piece of clothing on you, you feel exposed in your barely covered torso. But that thought is tossed out the window when his lips move from yours, down to your jaw, and then to your neck. He begins to suck slowly, tickling your skin and you can’t help the moan that suddenly leaves your mouth. Embarrassment floods in a wave of pink onto your cheeks at your reaction, and you can feel Namjoon smirk against your skin.

He continues to suck at the delicate skin of your neck, for sure leaving a mark there, and you let out another few breathless moans. Namjoon was only kissing your neck and you were already having this sort of reaction. A part of you couldn’t wait for more.

Your eyes close on their own accord at the feeling. You’ve kissed plenty of other boys before, but never did many of them pay so much attention to other parts of your body. Namjoon’s lips dip a bit lower to your chest and at this point, you’re leaning back against the chair with your back arched a bit. Just as you expect his lips to move even lower, he moves away from you and you open your eyes.

“Move to the bed,” is all he says and you do it right away, pushing your things onto the floor.

Settling yourself there, Namjoon towers over you and bites his bottom lip. He removes his glasses, setting them down on the desk, and then proceeds to unbutton his shirt. As you begin to see the smooth skin of his chest peeking through with each unbutton, you’re suddenly very mentally aware of what is about to happen. You should be freaking out, but you’re more excited than anything.

Once he reaches the last button and strips his shirt off his body, he gives you that smirk again, “Take off your bra.”

You wet your lips at his command, nodding before leaning up to unclasp your bra. Namjoon watches as you slowly remove it from your body, letting the straps dangle in your hand before you toss the bra on the floor. He stares at your chest, lips parted, and brings both his hands down to cup your breast.

He squeezes each of them and pinches your nipples, in which you elicit a moan from the roughness of his hands. Namjoon continues to play with your breasts, loving the way they bounce in his hands and how your nipples harden so pretty.

“Fuck,” he groans and moves his lips back to yours. Without anything acting as a barrier between you and Namjoon, your nipples graze against his torso and it feels amazing.

Namjoon kisses you with so much fervor—a hand tangled in your hair and the other still clutching onto one breast. Your own hands are also in his hair, weaving your fingers through his lighter locks. You slightly tug at his hair, which only makes him kiss you harder. He bites your lips and grazes his tongue against yours. And this is just kissing; you can’t even begin to imagine what’s next.

You get your answer when Namjoon begins to move his hands down past your belly button and to the waistband of your leggings. He remarks at how great these leggings make your ass look before tugging them down your hips and legs—underwear and all. He only lifts his lips off of yours to help you get your clothing past your ankles. When you’re fully naked, he gives your body a once over a runs a thumb over his bottom lip.

“What?” you question, feeling super exposed. Unconsciously, your legs come together and thighs clench at the way Namjoon looks at you.

“Lovely,” he says once he’s making eye contact with you again, and you blush because you can’t help it.

“Aren’t you going to get naked too?” you ask, motioning to his still very clothed bottom half.

He gives you a half-smile, “No need to rush.”

You roll your eyes at his words. “Whatever.”

Even though you’re exposed in front of Namjoon right now, you don’t feel too terribly awkward. Yes, his actions are rather forward but it’s strangely comfortable.

“We have time,” he tells you and then sets a hand on one of your thighs. “So, spread your legs, baby girl.”

Your lips part slightly at his words; he was extremely forward. But you do as he says, slowly inching your legs apart. As you spread your legs, Namjoon massages your thigh while whispering for you to move just a little wider. This leaves your legs spread to nearly the corners of his bed and even more exposed to him than before. “Like this?”

Who knows where you find the guts to say those two little words, but you do and the reaction you get from Namjoon is everything. “You look so fucking hot like that, baby girl.”

Hearing that pet name again does something to you; deep in the pits of your stomach, you begin to feel a slow ache move through your body, and it’s both a delicious and painful feeling.

Namjoon now has two hands on both of your thighs, teasing up and down; moving close and then far away from the place where you’re beginning to ache the most. And then just when you think you can’t handle it anymore, his fingers begin to rub your clit. You throw your head back onto the bed, the pressure feeling so good.

“Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet already,” he hisses, rubbing up and down your slit. “So ready for me, huh?”

You moan, telling him that you need more—to which he just smirks down at you and then stops moving his fingers immediately.

“What the hell?” you groan.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” Namjoon says.

You bite your lip, “Badly.”

“Are you sure about that?” he raises a brow. “Because I can’t tell if you really do.”

To prove his point, Namjoon begins to tease you again. He touches you everywhere but the place where you need release the most. You move your hips slightly, trying to gain some sort of friction, but he presses a hand over your stomach to stop you.

“Touch me, Namjoon,” you boldly say.

One side of his lips rises into a smirk, “Touch you where?”

“Anywhere…everywhere.”

“With what?” he asks. “My hands?”

You nod your head adamantly, telling that you want exactly that. Despite your desperation, he still doesn’t budge from where he stands in front of you. “Namjoon…”

“Or how about my mouth, baby girl? I bet you’d like that even more.”

Oh fuck. You nearly hit your high on the spot. This back and forth teasing made you so turned on. “Anything, Namjoon. Please, please just touch me. I need it—I need you.”

You nearly cringe at how whiny you’ve become in the timespan of a few minutes, but you’re desperate for some sort of release from the hell Namjoon has been putting you in. You really do want him to touch you, and you don’t care how he does it. All you know is that his teasing has put you in a lot of pain. “Okay, if you say so, baby girl.”

Namjoon spreads your legs again and then crouches on the floor. He pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, so his head is right there aligned to your core, and begins to lick up and down slowly. Your hips lift off the bed immediately upon contact, but both of his strong hands push you down as he continues working his mouth on you.

After one or two slow tongue movements, he finally gives in and begins to suck on your clit—hard. He flicks his tongue against your sensitive little nub and it feels so good. You let out a string of moans and fist his hair in your hands. “Fuck—yes.”

While he applies pressure to your clit with his mouth, one of his hands reaches up to caress your breasts and pinch your nipples. Your back arches from pleasure and you grip his head in-between your hands, gently beginning to grind your hips. You cry out his name, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to that release you’re craving so bad.

“Getting close, baby girl?” he asks against your lower lips. You can only nod, still moving against his face.

Looking down, you notice that Namjoon is staring up at you, making direct eye contact, as he continues to lick and suck your juices. The image makes you feel even hotter, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Namjoon,” your voice is shaky as you shut your eyes, feeling yourself nearly there.

“Come for me, baby girl,” he prods, suddenly shoving two fingers inside of you.

And that’s when stars cloud your vision as your body convulses through your orgasm. He rides out your high until you can’t handle the sensitivity anymore and push him away. As he pulls his finger out of you, bringing them to his mouth to suck, you lay on his bed covered in a sheen of sweat, feeling completely satisfied. You look at Namjoon, who has since moved to sit on the bed, heart skipping a beat at his equally sweaty body and mess hair.

“Thanks,” you tell him as you sit up, not really knowing what else to say.

He pushes his hair back, nodding, “Ditto—you taste amazing.”

You flush at his words and he gives you a look that sends your body into another frenzy. Moving forward, you close the gap between the two of you and kiss him. On his lips, you can taste a bit of yourself and you want more. You push yourself closer to him, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re about to tell him that you need him, but your phone suddenly rings and the both you of break away to look at the desk. You walk over and pick it up, noticing that Ara is calling you.

“Hello?” you answer, turning around to sneak a glance at Namjoon—who looks so ridiculously sexy right now, you don’t even know what to do with yourself.

“Y/n? Where the fuck are you?” Why does she sound so aggressive?

You frown. “Studying, why?”

From the other side of the phone, you hear her sigh, “Oh my god, you forgot…didn’t you?”

“Forgot what?”

“We were supposed to come to the game tonight, together.”

And that’s when you gasp and scream, “Shit!”

“How could you forget, y/n—we talked about this the other day! It’s one of the final games of the season and you promised to help me out!”

Ara is a part of the fundraising committee that always has a booth at various school events—like games and such—and they sell merch or food to raise a little money to give back to non-profit organizations. You’ve helped her out a few times already this semester, and promised you’d help again tonight since there’d be a lot of people. However, tonight, it totally slips your mind.

“I lost track of time, sorry,” you say and check the time, eyes widening when you realize it’s already nearing six o’clock.

“Just hurry, okay.”

She hangs up on you and you run to put on your clothes and grab your things. Just as you pull your sweater over your head, Namjoon stands in front of you. Shit.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I forgot about a thing I promised my roommate I’d do…and I’m running late and she’s really mad at me.”

“Yeah, I could hear her from where I was sitting.” You flush again from the fact that he heard you getting chewed out by Ara.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you say, slinging your backpack over your shoulders, “but I really have to go.”

Namjoon just nods, slipping his glasses back onto his face. “We can study again another time.”

“Sure—we can do it at my place next time, if you want.”

He nods again and you brush the hair out of your face before running out the door, to the elevator. As you get inside and press the button for the first floor, you let out a deep breath and try to calm your dramatically racing heart.

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