Room 313
one-shot
•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader
Theme: college au, wrong room, flirty, humorous, steamy, build-up, mature content ahead⚠️. “Can you teach me how to be gentle for you?”
Description: A sultry collision of music, temptation, and stolen moments where passion composes its own melody and love plays between the silences.
Playlist: champagne & sunshine — plvtinum, tarro
The wheels of my suitcase clacked softly against the polished dorm floor as I made my way through the eerily quiet hall. My dorm keycard was tucked inside my palm, still warm from the tight grip I’d kept on it since I got it from the orientation booth.
Everything smelled like a mix of new paint and old wood. The halls were empty, everyone either already moved in or still arriving like me.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, pulling my tote bag higher on my shoulder. Room 312. Almost there.
Just as I passed Room 308, I froze.
A strange sound echoed faintly from behind the door.
At first I thought it was the TV. But when I took another step, I heard it again. This time
Moaning.
Very real, very explicit, very not from a movie.
I blinked, my curiosity getting the better of me. I glanced around. The hallway was still dead empty. Not a soul. I shouldn’t have cared. I should’ve walked away. But instead like the nosy idiot I was I leaned forward and pressed my ear lightly to the door.
"Ahh—ngh, right there—"
My eyes widened. Oh. Oh my god.
They were really going at it.
My face burned, half-horrified, half-mesmerized, and I covered my mouth to muffle a laugh. I was about to pull away when
"Enjoying the show?"
I gasped and jumped back, practically dropping my bag. My heart slammed against my ribs. I spun around
and almost choked on my breath.
Towering over me was a ridiculously tall guy, in black sweats and a simple white shirt that clung to his chest like sin. His hair was messy like he’d just rolled out of bed, and his lips were pulled up in the cockiest half-smile I’d ever seen.
And his voice deep, smooth, amused.
"Wh-What?!" I blurted, stumbling a step away from the door.
He raised a brow, leaning in slightly like he was letting me in on a secret. "I heard it too. From the hallway." He smirked. "Figured someone was getting a little too excited about moving in."
My face burned. "I wasn’t—I wasn’t listening. I just walked past, and it was loud, and—"
He held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, no judgment. We’re all human."
He chuckled then, a low, warm sound that made me glance at him again.
He was... insanely attractive. Tall, with piercing eyes, thick lashes, a strong jawline, and the kind of easy confidence that made him seem like he owned whatever space he walked into.
"You new here too?" he asked, nodding at my suitcase.
"Yeah," I mumbled, trying to recover my dignity. "First year. Journalism major."
"Ahh." He grinned. "I’m Chanyeol. Junior. Music production."
Of course he was in music. Of course. With that voice and those fingers, he probably played every instrument known to man.
I tried to act casual. "Y/N," I said. "Nice to meet you. Despite the... soundtrack."
He laughed out loud this time, covering his mouth briefly before shaking his head. "Yeah, definitely an unforgettable first impression. Just don’t write about it in the campus paper, yeah?"
I bit my lip, smiling. "No promises."
There was a moment of quiet between us. Not awkward just charged. His eyes flicked briefly down to my lips, then back up.
"You heading to your room?"
"Yeah. 312."
He raised a brow. "No way. I’m 313."
I blinked. "Seriously?“
"Looks like we’re neighbors," he said, stepping past me to swipe his keycard. The door beeped open. "Guess I’ll be hearing more than just your playlists."
I blushed, again. "Excuse me?"
He winked. "Kidding. Mostly." Then he held his door open. "See you around, Y/N."
As he disappeared into his room, I stared after him, dazed.
New school, new dorm, new hot neighbor...
I had a feeling this semester was going to be very interesting.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
The campus was bigger than I expected. Wide open lawns, people sprawled on picnic blankets with laptops and iced coffees, bikes zipping by, and upperclassmen walking like they’d mastered every inch of this place.
Meanwhile, I was still trying to find my damn lecture hall.
“Building B…” I muttered under my breath, squinting at the map on my phone while walking, dodging a couple making out by a tree, and nearly tripping on a sidewalk crack. Classic.
I was so focused on trying not to look lost that I didn’t even notice the tall figure walking just a few steps behind me.
“You always ignore your neighbors like this?”
That voice.
I stopped in my tracks, my brain taking a full second to register it. Then I turned around and there he was again.
Chanyeol.
Towering, effortlessly hot, grinning like he knew something I didn’t. He had sunglasses pushed up in his messy dark hair and a hoodie slung half-on his shoulder like some streetwear model who didn’t even try and still looked good.
I blinked. “Wha oh. Hey!” I said, probably way too loudly, then winced. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“I figured,” he said, walking up beside me, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket. “I was right behind you for like a full minute. Thought you were ghosting me already.”
I laughed. “No! I wasn’t I just didn’t expect to run into you here.”
He shrugged. “Well, fate works fast.”
I rolled my eyes, smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you get lost easily,” he teased, eyeing my phone map. “Building B?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I’m hopeless with directions.”
“I figured,” he said. “That’s the science wing you’re walking toward. You’d be stuck listening to physics lectures if I didn’t stop you.”
I groaned. “Great. Embarrassing and lost.”
He chuckled and gently nudged my shoulder with his elbow. “Come on, I’ll walk you there. It’s on my way anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hey,” he said, glancing down at me with a small smile. “It’s either this or I let you barge into a chemistry lab mid-experiment.”
I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling too hard. “…Fine. Lead the way, neighbor.”
As we walked, we kept bumping shoulders lightly never quite fully on purpose, but never by accident either.
“So,” he said casually, “did you hear anything else through the walls last night?”
I choked on air. “Chanyeol!”
He burst out laughing, eyes scrunching as he threw his head back. “I’m kidding!”
“You’re evil,” I muttered, flustered.
“You’re just mad I brought it up before you could.” He grinned smugly. “You were thinking about it, weren’t you?”
I elbowed him, trying not to laugh. “Shut up.”
“Never.”
We reached my building, and he pointed up at the sign. “Here you go. Lecture Hall B-104. Right on time too. Impressive.”
I looked up at him. “Thanks, by the way. For not letting me make a fool of myself. Again.”
He smiled softer this time. “Anytime, Y/N.”
Then, before he turned to go, he reached into his pocket and handed me something. A folded slip of paper.
“What’s this?” I asked, opening it.
On it, messily scribbled in black pen, was a playlist link and a note:
┃ Thin Walls Vol. 1 — a soundtrack for late-night neighbors
— Chanyeol
I looked up, speechless.
He winked. “In case you’re ever bored in your room.”
And then he walked off, hands in his pockets again, humming softly to himself.
My heart was beating faster than it should’ve been.
This neighbor is going to be dangerous.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
Later that week, I was curled up in my dorm bed, hoodie on, earbuds in, reading over a class module I didn’t fully understand.
The hallway outside was quiet again. No moaning this time thankfully.
Just the soft strum of guitar chords through the wall.
Chanyeol. Again.
It was the third night in a row he played something around this time. Never anything loud just soft, warm acoustic riffs. Like lullabies with soul. And every now and then, I caught his voice… husky, low, humming into the strings like he didn’t know anyone could hear.
Except I could. And maybe he knew that.
I was just about to close my laptop when I heard a knock.
Three light taps on my door.
I padded over, peeked through the peephole.
Chanyeol.
Wearing a dark tee and sweats again, hair damp like he’d just showered, holding a bag of chips in one hand and was that a keycard lanyard in the other?
I opened the door, trying not to look too excited. “Hey.”
“Hey, neighbor,” he said, eyes raking over me for a second. “You busy?”
“Uh… not really.”
“Good.” He tilted his head toward his door. “Come to my room.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I mean—” he smirked, catching my expression, “not like that. I want to show you something.”
I raised a brow. “At midnight?”
“It’s not midnight.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s 11:46.”
I crossed my arms. “Still sus.”
He laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll make you a deal. Come to my room, I’ll play you a song I wrote tonight. If it sucks, I’ll walk you back with snacks and never bother you again. If it doesn’t… you stay.”
I tried to hide my smile. “And if I do stay?”
His eyes darkened just a little. His voice dipped lower.
“Then I’ll keep playing. Until you make me stop.”
Shit.
“Fine,” I said. “But I’m stealing half that bag of chips.”
“Deal.”
His dorm room smelled like clean linen and cologne. A guitar sat propped against the wall, and his laptop was open beside a mini keyboard. The lighting was soft just his desk lamp and the blue glow from an LED strip near the ceiling.
He motioned for me to sit on his bed while he plugged in a pair of studio monitors.
“So…” I said, looking around. “This is where all the music magic happens?”
He looked at me over his shoulder, smirking. “Among other things.”
“Chanyeol—”
“Kidding.” He strummed a chord, then motioned for me to come closer. “Actually, no. Come here. Sit beside me.”
I hesitated but only for a second. Then I slipped beside him on the bench in front of the keyboard.
He adjusted the mic arm and glanced at me, face suddenly a little more serious. “So I wrote this just after our hallway... adventure. The first night.”
I laughed. “The moaning room inspired you?”
He grinned, plucking a note. “More like... the girl I caught listening outside it.”
My breath caught. “Oh.”
He didn’t say anything more. Just started playing.
It was slow. Gentle. A little mischievous. The kind of melody that danced between flirtation and tension, the kind you’d imagine playing while two people tiptoe on the edge of something more.
When he began singing, I swear I forgot how to breathe.
┃ “She walks like a secret I’m not supposed to find... But laughs like she’s already mine... Caught her leaning close to something bold Never thought a wall could feel this cold...”
I felt goosebumps rising along my arms. My thighs pressed together.
He stopped playing and looked at me quiet, unreadable.
I swallowed. “That was... intense.”
He didn’t break eye contact. “You inspire intense.”
Silence. Not awkward. Just heavy.
“You okay?” he asked softly, noticing how still I was.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Just… thinking.”
“About?”
I turned slightly to face him. “How dangerous it is to sit this close to you.”
Chanyeol’s lips twitched. “Oh?”
“You have that look.”
“What look?”
“That I-know-what-I’m-doing look.”
He chuckled under his breath. “That’s because I do know what I’m doing.”
His hand came up, brushing my hair behind my ear gently. His fingers lingered near my jaw, his gaze dropping to my lips and back.
“If you’re going to stop me…” he murmured, “you should do it now.”
I didn’t move.
And neither did he.
We just sat there, breathing the same air. Waiting for someone to break first.
And when I did, it was only to whisper“I don’t want to stop you.”
That’s when he kissed me.
Slow. Deep. Like he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to memorize the taste of my mouth before doing anything else. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. My fingers tangled in his shirt.
The keyboard behind us creaked a little from the shift in weight.
When we finally pulled apart, I was flushed and breathless.
“I think,” I whispered, “you just guaranteed I’m staying.”
Chanyeol smirked against my lips. “Told you.”
His lips hadn’t been off mine for more than a few seconds before I found myself leaning back in again hungrier now. The soft strum of guitar chords still looped from the speakers behind us, filling the room with that same sensual rhythm he’d just played.
It was like the music was guiding us. Slow, sultry. Unapologetic.
Chanyeol’s large hands gripped my waist, tugging me gently into his lap. My legs straddled either side of him before I even realized what I was doing. His hoodie bunched beneath my thighs, the heat of his body radiating straight through me.
“You sure about this?” he asked in a low voice, brushing his nose against mine, lips barely touching.
I nodded. “If you stop now, I’ll scream.”
He grinned, eyes darkening. “Not a bad idea. These walls are thin, after all.”
Before I could reply, his lips were back on mine harder this time, deeper. Tongue brushing against mine in slow, deliberate strokes, as if savoring every second. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of my hoodie, skimming my skin.
I gasped against his mouth. He smirked. “Cold?”
“No,” I whispered. “Just—sensitive.”
His eyes flicked down, then back up to mine. “Good.”
He lifted my hoodie slowly, letting his fingers brush along the undersides of my breasts as he pulled it up and over my head. My hair spilled messily over my shoulders, and I could feel how flushed I already was.
Chanyeol let out a low breath as he looked at me. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
His hands came up to cup me through my thin bralette thumbs grazing the peaks until I arched into his touch. I bit my lip to hold back a moan, but he caught it.
“Don’t do that,” he said, voice rougher now. “I wanna hear you.”
Then his mouth was on my neck hot, open kisses dragging down my collarbone, across the slope of my shoulder. He nipped lightly at the spot right above my chest, and I gasped aloud.
My hips shifted instinctively, grinding down into his lap and that’s when I felt it.
Hard.
Pressed firmly between my legs, even through the fabric.
He groaned softly into my skin. “Keep doing that and I won’t be able to take it slow.”
“Who said I wanted slow?” I whispered.
That did it.
He stood lifting me with him, still wrapped around his waist. My back hit the wall beside his desk with a soft thud, his mouth on mine again, rougher now. The music was still playing, the sensual beat matching every movement.
One hand slipped into the back of my shorts, gripping me tight, pulling me against the hard press of his body. The friction made me moan into his mouth.
“Y/N,” he breathed, like he’d been holding it in. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“Then show me,” I whispered.
He kissed me again deep, messy, hot. His hands roamed like he was memorizing every inch of me. My nails raked lightly across the back of his neck, pulling a groan from deep in his chest.
We were a tangle of limbs, pressed so close not even air could slip between us. The line between teasing and giving in had vanished completely.
And I didn’t want it back.
Not tonight.
His body pressed me hard into the wall, and I could feel how tense he was every inch of him wound tight with restraint. His lips found mine again, slower this time, like he wanted to savor the taste.
But there was nothing slow about the way his hips ground into mine.
I whimpered, feeling the thick pressure of him between my legs, even through both our clothes. He pulled back just enough to speak, voice low and full of heat.
“You sure?” he asked again, chest rising against mine. “Last chance.”
I kissed him, rough and sure. “I’ve never been more sure.”
Something in him snapped after that.
He grabbed the backs of my thighs, lifting me again effortlessly and walking us across the room. I barely registered the way we bumped into his desk before he laid me flat across his bed, crawling over me, eyes dark with want.
My shorts were the first to go peeled off with one strong tug.
“You’re already wet,” he murmured, voice like velvet dragging over heat. His fingers grazed me through my soaked panties, and I squirmed at the first touch.
He grinned. “Sensitive again?”
“Chanyeol—” I gasped, and he slid my panties to the side, dragging a long, slow finger up my slit.
“Fuck,” he growled, almost to himself. “You feel unreal.”
He dipped his head, licking a stripe between my legs so slow I almost cried out. His tongue flicked my clit, again and again, torturously light, until I grabbed the sheets. His fingers slipped inside, curling just right, and my hips bucked.
“Stay still for me, baby,” he whispered against my thigh, licking me deeper now, moaning as if he was the one being touched.
When I started shaking under his mouth, breath coming in broken gasps, he pulled away leaving me desperate.
“Not yet,” he said darkly. “I want to be inside you when you fall apart.”
I was barely able to breathe as he stripped out of his sweats and shirt.
And when I saw him hard, thick, heavy in his hand I swallowed.
“Condom?” I asked, voice barely a whisper.
He reached into his drawer without breaking eye contact. “Always.”
Seconds later, he was over me again, one arm braced by my head, the other guiding himself to my entrance.
“Ready?” he murmured, kissing the corner of my mouth.
I nodded. “Please.”
And then he pushed in.
Slow. Deep. Stretching me perfectly. I gasped, my nails digging into his arms, legs wrapping tightly around his waist.
“Fuck—Y/N,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking tight.”
He held still for a moment, letting me adjust, brushing kisses down my throat, whispering, “You feel so good, baby. So fucking good.”
Then he started moving.
Long, slow thrusts at first, making me feel every inch of him. Each roll of his hips hit deep, and I could hear our skin meeting, the bed creaking beneath us, the soft moans from both of us rising with every second.
Then he picked up the pace.
“Say my name,” he growled, fucking into me harder now.
“Chanyeol,” I moaned, breath hitching, “fuck don’t stop—”
He grabbed my hands, pinning them above my head with one of his, the other gripping my thigh, holding me wide open for him. He was relentless now, hips snapping into mine, eyes locked on my face like he wanted to watch me fall apart.
“You take me so well,” he groaned. “So fucking perfect mine.”
My body started to tremble, the pressure building too fast.
“I—I’m close—”
“Come for me, baby,” he panted. “Come while I’m inside you. Let me feel you”
And when he reached down, rubbed tight circles on my clit while still slamming into me, I shattered.
My back arched, walls pulsing around him as I cried out, not caring how loud I was, not caring who heard.
Chanyeol cursed, burying himself deep with one last hard thrust, his grip tightening on me as he groaned low in my ear, releasing with a shudder.
We lay there after, tangled, breathless.
His forehead pressed to mine. The music still playing in the background.
And his voice, soft now, barely audible:
“I’m never gonna be able to hear this song without thinking of you.”
I smiled weakly, still catching my breath. “Then keep playing it.”
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
I woke up to the warm weight of Chanyeol’s arm draped over my waist and the soft rhythm of his breathing behind my ear.
His sheets smelled like him clean laundry with a trace of his cologne. The morning sun had just started slipping through his curtains, casting a golden hue across the room.
My body ached in all the right ways, and I was very aware that I was completely naked under his covers.
And so was he.
Last night rushed back in flashes his lips, his voice, the sound of skin on skin, the way he looked at me like I was something he needed…
I rolled over slowly to face him. His dark hair was tousled, mouth slightly parted as he slept, lashes unfairly long. His arm tightened around me instinctively when I moved, like his body refused to let go.
And I didn’t want it to.
I smiled to myself, fingers lightly tracing the tattoo on his forearm as I tucked my face into his chest.
Knock knock knock.
My eyes flew open.
Another knock louder this time.
“Yo, Chanyeol! You in there?”
Oh no.
My heart plunged. I scrambled upright, clutching the blanket to my chest.
Chanyeol stirred, groaning. “Wha—?”
“Someone’s at the door!” I hissed. “Chanyeol, someone’s here!”
He blinked at me, still half-asleep, then sat up slowly, rubbing his face. “Shit. That’s probably Baek.”
Baek?! As in Byun Baekhyun?! The one from his music crew?!
“Get the door!” the voice shouted from the hallway. “Bro, I forgot my USB in your mic case! Open up!”
“Oh my god,” I gasped. “I’m naked, Chanyeol!”
He grinned sleepily, not even pretending to panic. “Technically, I am too. Want my shirt or pants?”
“Both!”
He chuckled and reached down, tossing his oversized hoodie at me while pulling on his sweatpants with zero shame.
I struggled into the hoodie it drowned me, falling mid-thigh, sleeves dangling over my hands. I found my underwear tangled in the sheets and yanked them on under the hoodie just as the door rattled again.
“Coming!” Chanyeol called lazily, tousling his hair like he hadn’t just been naked two minutes ago.
I dove behind his bed, heart racing.
The door opened.
“Oh, finally,” Baekhyun groaned. “You take longer than my grandma to answer.”
“Sorry,” Chanyeol said smoothly. “Was sleeping.”
“Smells like more than sleep in here.”
My face went nuclear red.
Chanyeol laughed. “You’re imagining things.”
Baek’s voice lowered. “Wait a minute…” A pause. “You didn’t you did.”
“Keep your voice down,” Chanyeol muttered.
“Is someone here?” Baek whispered too loud.
I froze, curled behind the bed like an idiot.
Chanyeol calmly shut the door halfway in Baek’s face. “You got your USB. Bye.”
“YOU TOTALLY HAVE SOMEONE IN THERE—”
Door slammed.
Chanyeol leaned against it, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“You can come out now,” he said, biting back a grin. “Unless you want to live back there forever.”
I stood up slowly, arms crossed over the hoodie. “Your friends are loud.”
“They’re jealous,” he said, walking over to me. “Because I got to sleep with the hottest girl in the dorms.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You mean in the dorm?”
He smiled, stepping closer, hands sliding around my waist. “No. I mean period.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at my lips.
“You’re lucky I didn’t have a heart attack.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t let Baekhyun see you in just my hoodie. He might’ve passed out.”
He kissed me then soft, lazy, perfect.
And for a moment, the chaos faded. It was just the two of us, in a room that still smelled like sex and music and stolen moments.
“So,” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine. “Wanna grab breakfast… or stay in bed until someone else bangs on the door?”
I smirked. “You know what? Let’s lock the door this time.”
The kitchen in Chanyeol’s dorm suite was barely big enough for one person to move in without knocking into something but that didn’t stop us from trying.
I was still in his oversized hoodie, legs bare, hair a little wild. He stood behind me at the counter, shirtless, casually flipping pancakes with the kind of confidence only a man who looked good in the morning could have.
“Smells good,” I said, arms crossed, leaning on the counter beside him.
He glanced sideways. “You’re talking about the food or me?”
I laughed. “Cocky this early?”
“I just had the best night of my life,” he said, not even trying to hide the way his eyes dragged slowly down my body and back up again. “I think I earned it.”
I turned, bumping his hip with mine. “You gonna feed me or just keep staring?”
He leaned in, voice dropping an octave. “Why not both?”
He flipped the last pancake onto a plate and set it aside, then turned to me fully. His hands landed on either side of the counter, caging me in.
My breath hitched.
“You look real good in my hoodie,” he murmured, lips brushing my cheek, “but I’m kind of tempted to take it off you again.”
I grinned. “What about breakfast?”
He shrugged, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “You first.”
Then he kissed me.
Hot. Open-mouthed.
I gasped into it as his hands gripped my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the kitchen counter. My thighs parted instinctively, letting him step between them.
His hoodie bunched up around my hips, and the moment he realized I still wasn’t wearing anything underneath but panties his breath caught.
“Still wet,” he muttered, dragging a finger along the inside of my thigh. “Didn’t take much, huh?”
“Being around you is dangerous,” I whispered, pulling him closer.
“Yeah?” he rasped, lips ghosting down my neck. “Then let’s be reckless.”
He kissed down my collarbone as his fingers pushed my panties aside again, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made me whimper.
“Chanyeol—”
“You want me again?” he murmured. “Right here, on the counter?”
I nodded quickly, clinging to his shoulders.
He pulled down his sweats just enough, grabbing a condom from the kitchen drawer (of all places).
“You keep condoms here?” I laughed, breathless.
He grinned. “Was hoping for this exact moment.”
Once he rolled it on, he grabbed the backs of my knees and pulled me to the edge.
“Hold on,” he warned, and then—
He pushed in.
Slow. Deep.
My head fell back with a moan as he filled me, stretching me wide, my bare back arching against the cold counter.
His hands gripped my thighs as he started moving each thrust rocking the plates behind me, the pancakes long forgotten.
“Fuck, you feel even tighter in the morning,” he groaned, hips slamming into me with a rhythm that made the entire kitchen shake. “Like your body remembers me.”
I clawed at his back, barely able to catch my breath. “Faster please—”
He didn’t hold back.
The sound of skin meeting skin, our ragged breathing, the wet slick of where our bodies metit was obscene, loud, reckless.
And so, so good.
“You gonna come for me again?” he whispered, one hand sliding between us to circle my clit. “Come on, baby. Make a mess all over my counter.”
“Fuck—Chanyeol—!”
And just like that, I shattered.
My walls clenched tight around him, thighs trembling, mouth open in a breathless moan as I came hard, right there on the kitchen counter.
He groaned, burying himself deep one final time before he came too, holding onto me like he was afraid to let go.
Silence fell.
Only the sound of our panting, and the faint sizzling from the forgotten pan on the stove.
“…Your pancakes are probably burnt,” I muttered, forehead pressed to his shoulder.
Chanyeol chuckled, voice wrecked. “Worth it.”
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
A few days passed. After that chaotic, pancake-burning morning in Chanyeol’s dorm, things between us had shifted subtly but definitely.
He still sent me playlists. Still teased me when we passed each other in the hall. Still gave me that look in class when no one else was watching.
But now, there was more.
Now I knew what it felt like to have his hands on me.
What he sounded like when he lost control.
How easily we could get addicted to each other if we weren’t careful.
Which… we weren’t.
Campus was alive that morning students buzzing with iced coffee, exams, and group meetings. I was halfway across the quad when I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“Hey, hoodie thief!”
I turned, laughing. “You’re still mad I stole it?”
Chanyeol jogged to catch up, backpack slung over one shoulder, that stupidly sexy grin on his face.
“You said you’d return it. That was three days ago.”
“I’m bonding with it. It smells like you.”
He blinked. “That’s supposed to help your case?”
“Yup.”
He leaned in, close enough that his lips brushed my ear. “If you keep wearing my clothes, Y/N… people are gonna figure it out.”
I smirked, not backing away. “Let them.”
He looked at me for a second eyes softening, lips quirking.
Then a voice behind us:
“Ohhh my god. Wait. Wait.”
Baekhyun.
I whipped around as Chanyeol groaned.
Baekhyun was standing a few feet away with a smoothie in one hand and betrayal in his eyes.
“You’re together?! I knew it wasn’t a random girl in your bed that morning—”
Chanyeol dragged a hand down his face. “Bro—”
Baekhyun pointed at me. “And you! Miss ‘I don’t know where Building B is’?! I helped you find your lecture hall! You were innocent!”
I burst out laughing. “I still am innocent!”
Chanyeol scoffed. “Sure you are.”
Baekhyun grinned, walking over and throwing an arm around both of us. “Honestly, I’m just mad I wasn’t the first to find out. This is so good. The hot music guy and the hot new girl? You’re literally a K-Drama.”
I shook my head. “Can we not make this public knowledge?”
Baekhyun winked. “My lips are sealed.”
(He posted a meme about it on his Story an hour later.)
Later that day, I found a note slipped inside my notebook during class. Chanyeol’s handwriting.
┃ “Practice room. 6pm. Bring the hoodie. And maybe don’t wear anything underneath. ;)”
I flushed so hard I had to cover my face with the textbook.
College life just got a lot more distracting.
I should’ve known the note wasn’t just about music.
Not with that smirk in his handwriting.
Not with the way my thighs pressed together just thinking about him.
Not after the last time he whispered “I want you louder this time.”
At exactly 5:59 p.m., I stood in front of the locked door to the practice room at the far end of the music building. The hallway was quiet classes over, sky outside already deepening to dusk. I knocked twice, heart pounding.
The door opened before the second knock finished.
Chanyeol stood there, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, guitar still strapped over his chest. His eyes dropped immediately to the hoodie I was wearing.
His hoodie.
And, just as he asked I had nothing on underneath.
His jaw clenched. “You actually did it.”
I stepped past him into the room. “You told me to.”
He shut the door behind us, locking it with a soft click. “Do you always follow instructions so well?”
I looked over my shoulder, smirking. “Only when the reward’s worth it.”
He stepped up behind me, pressing his body to mine, hands sliding slowly around my waist. I could feel how hard he already was just from looking at me in his hoodie and panties.
“I wrote a song today,” he murmured, brushing his lips along my neck. “Want me to play it for you?”
“I came to hear everything.”
He chuckled darkly, lips grazing my ear. “Then take a seat.”
I sat on the edge of the small padded piano bench, legs crossed. He stood in front of me, strumming a few slow, seductive chords on his guitar his eyes never leaving mine.
The lyrics were low, raw, sexy.
┃ “She walks in wearing what’s mine, Skin beneath, nothing but time. Doesn’t say a word, just stares, And I forget how to play fair…”
My thighs squeezed together.
I didn’t realize my fingers were running along the inside of my thigh until he stopped playing mid-verse.
He stepped closer. “Touching yourself while I sing?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“You never have to mean to.”
The guitar clattered softly as he set it down on the chair behind him. Then he knelt in front of me.
“Let’s get these off,” he whispered, tugging my panties down my legs with deliberate slowness. “I want nothing between us this time.”
I let him. I was already soaked.
“Sit back.” His voice dropped lower. “Let me play you instead.”
Then his mouth was on me tongue lapping at my folds with soft, sensual strokes, as if he had all the time in the world. My hands flew to his hair, tugging gently as he devoured me, humming against my clit like this was his real performance.
“Chanyeol oh my god—”
He slid two fingers inside me, curling them deep, hitting every right place until I was a shaking, moaning mess on the bench.
And just when I was close when I was right there he pulled away.
I whined, breathless. “Why?”
His eyes met mine, dark and blown wide. “Because I want to finish inside you this time.”
He stood, pulled his sweats down just enough to free himself, and rolled on a condom with one hand like he’d done it a hundred times with skill, with confidence, and still watching me.
Then he bent me forward over the bench, lifting the back of the hoodie, exposing everything to him.
He slid in with one hard, slow stroke.
And it was perfect.
“Fuck,” he groaned, both hands gripping my hips. “This view… this feeling you’re driving me insane.”
He thrusted into me, slow and deep at first, letting me feel every inch. My forehead pressed to the bench as I moaned louder with each movement.
“Chanyeol—”
“Say it again.” His voice was wrecked. “Say my name while I fuck you in my music room.”
“Chanyeol fuck—yes—”
The bench creaked beneath us, his pace punishing now, skin slapping against skin, the sound echoing through the soundproof walls.
“You think about this all day?” he growled. “Me bending you over, fucking you where anyone could walk in?”
“Yes yes I wanted this—”
“Fuck, baby. Me too.”
His fingers reached around, rubbed my clit as he pounded into me from behind. I was a mess sweaty, trembling, falling apart beneath his hands.
And when I came when the orgasm crashed over me hard I screamed into the padded bench, body convulsing as he kept thrusting, chasing his own high.
Moments later, he groaned, hips slamming into me one last time as he came with a growl, holding me tight.
We stayed there for a moment, panting, trembling, bodies tangled in heat and music and lust.
He pulled out gently, kissed my shoulder, helped me turn to sit back down.
“You good?” he asked, voice soft now, brushing my hair off my face.
I nodded, still catching my breath. “You just ruined every other song for me.”
He grinned. “Good. I plan on doing that a lot.”