hehe1m0n

[hehe1m0n]

Silver Blades, Red Cheeks / 은빛 칼날, 붉은 뺨

| Coach!Sunghoon x gn!reader

| Summary: You sign up for private ice skating lessons with Sunghoon, your intense coach. What starts as training turns into a slow burn of tension and feelings until one night, everything changes with a single, unexpected kiss.

| Warnings: Dom Sunghoon, sub reader, teacher x adult student, sexual tension.

| Word count: 988

No kids, no music, no bright lights. Just the soft mechanical hum of the chillers and the faint scrape of blades on ice.

And him.

Sunghoon stood by the boards, arms crossed, watching you like a hawk. Even off the ice, he looked like he was born for it, tall, clean lines, black hoodie, his expression unreadable as always.

You tightened your skates on the bench. Your fingers were shaking.

“Fifteen minutes late,” he said coolly.

You winced. “I ran.”

“Run faster next time.” He pushed off the wall and glided toward the center of the rink. “Get on. We’re starting.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and stepped out.

---

You didn’t know why you’d signed up for private lessons. You weren’t a pro skater. You weren’t training for anything.

You just wanted to get better.

What you didn’t expect was for your coach to be Park Sunghoon. Olympic level talent, notoriously sharp tongue, and that pale face, sculpted, cold as ice. And somehow even more intimidating in person.

You’d watched him skate before. Perfect lines, sharp edges, terrifying control. And now he was teaching you.

One on one.

Twice a week.

And you still couldn’t tell if he hated you… or something else entirely.

---

“Your balance is off again,” Sunghoon called out across the rink, arms folded. “Bend your knees more.”

You grit your teeth, focusing on the crossover. “I am.”

“You think you are. You’re not. Do it again.”

You skated back and did it again. And again. And again. Each time, his tone didn’t change. But he watched you, eyes sharp, focused like a scalpel.

And when you finally nailed the edge just right, he didn’t say anything.

Just gave a tiny nod.

Which, coming from Sunghoon, was basically a standing ovation.

---

Your legs were burning. Your breath clouded in the cold air. You leaned against the wall, wiping sweat from your brow.

“Water,” Sunghoon said, tossing you your bottle.

You caught it mid air. “Thanks.”

He leaned beside you, arms resting on the boards, staring out at the empty ice. “Why are you doing this?”

You blinked. “What?”

“This. Skating.” He turned his head slightly, not quite looking at you. “You’re not competing. You’re not a kid. So why go through all this?”

You hesitated. “Because… I love it.”

A pause.

“Even when you fall every lesson?” he asked quietly.

You smiled. “Especially then.”

For a second, just one, his expression softened.

Then it vanished. “You need to work on your spins.”

---

Something shifted after that.

He started staying closer.

Literally. He’d skate behind you, guiding your arms. His hands would brush your hips, your back, the nape of your neck, always brief, always professional.

But they lingered. Just a second too long.

And when he corrected your posture now, his voice was quieter. His breath warmer.

“You’re overthinking again,” he murmured once, stepping behind you. His hand slid along your side to reposition your wrist. “Trust your edge.”

You nodded, barely breathing.

When your spin wobbled again, he didn’t yell.

He just caught your hand, gently this time, and said:

“Let me show you.”

---

He demonstrated the spin with effortless grace, the turn, the control, the stillness.

And then he stood in front of you. “Go again. I’ll guide you.”

You moved slowly into position.

Then his hand pressed flat between your shoulder blades.

“Now.”

You spun and felt him, steadying you. Not just physically. Grounding you.

When you stopped, dizzy and breathless, he hadn’t moved away.

You were chest to chest. His hand still on your back.

His eyes flicked to your lips.

And for a moment… the silence between you got loud.

“You’re improving,” he said suddenly, stepping back.

You exhaled like you hadn’t been breathing.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, heart slamming against your ribs.

---

Weeks passed. The air between you only got heavier.

Sunghoon never crossed a line. But god, he hovered at the edge of it.

He held your hand longer during spins. Adjusted your grip slowly, fingers brushing yours. Sometimes you’d find him watching you when you caught your breath, and he’d look away, fast.

But one night, everything cracked.

---

You showed up to your lesson late again, face red, coat soaked.

“It’s raining,” you said, breathless. “Sorry.”

He didn’t answer.

The rink was quieter than usual. Darker. Empty.

You skated out, nerves buzzing. “We doing jumps today?”

Sunghoon didn’t move.

He just watched you.

His expression unreadable.

“…What?” you asked.

“You’re getting too good at this,” he said, voice low.

You blinked. “At skating?”

“At distracting me.”

That shut you up.

He skated toward you slowly, silent blades on ice, eyes locked with yours.

“Do you know,” he said, stopping just inches away, “how hard it’s been to stay professional with you?”

Your breath caught.

“I shouldn’t be saying this,” he continued, eyes flicking to your lips, “but every time you fall, I want to pull you up and hold you longer than I’m supposed to.”

You couldn’t speak.

He stepped even closer.

“I want to kiss you every time you get a move right.”

Silence.

Your heart was pounding.

“Then do it,” you whispered.

A beat.

And then, he did.

---

His lips were cold from the rink. But the kiss was warm.

Desperate. Messy. Perfect.

His hand cupped your jaw, fingers trembling just slightly, like he’d wanted this for weeks and had finally broken. Your hands gripped his hoodie, pulling him closer, the ice forgotten, the cold air burning between your bodies.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“I’m your coach,” he whispered.

“You’re also the person I’ve been falling for.”

He let out a quiet, helpless laugh.

“I should’ve let you fall more,” he murmured. “So I could catch you like this.”

---

You stayed on the ice, just the two of you, hands clasped, breaths mingling.

The rink was still.

But your heart was finally moving.

[hehe1m0n]

The Laws of Attraction / 끌어당김의 법칙

| Nerd!Wumuti x gn!reader

| Summary: After failing a physics test, you end up getting tutored by Wumuti, the shy, smart guy who secretly has a thing for you. One after school session in an empty classroom turns steamy fast, when the tension finally snaps… and the nerd stops holding back.

| Warnings: Soft dom Wumuti, sub reader, student x student (both characters are adults), semi-public, virginity lose, no protection.

| Word count: 1,064k

You weren’t failing everything.

Just physics. And maybe chemistry, if we’re being honest. Your teacher didn’t yell, but the disappointed sigh she gave when handing back your test hit worse than any scolding.

34%

In red pen. Underlined twice. A full body insult.

“Y/n,” she said, quiet and sharp, “you need to study. You’re not dumb, you’re distracted. Ask Wumuti for help. He’s top of the class and doesn’t mind tutoring.”

You blinked. “Wumuti?”

She raised an eyebrow. “He sits in the back. Glasses. Never misses a question.”

You had noticed him before. Always in a hoodie, earbuds in. Neatly labeled notebooks. A little twitchy. Never talked. Kind of cute, shy, flustered, brainiac type.

---

You found him right after class, still organizing his binders like it was a sacred ritual.

“Hey. Wumuti, right?”

He looked up. Blinked a few times behind his round glasses. “Y-Yeah?”

You scratched the back of your neck. “So, uh. I failed that test.”

He nodded slowly. “I saw.”

You paused. “Ouch.”

He instantly panicked. “I mean-I didn’t mean that in a mean way! I just… I saw the grade and… I think you just misunderstood the velocity formula-”

You raised a brow. “…so you were looking.”

His face went red. “I-what? N-no, I mean-”

You grinned. “Can you help me or not?”

He swallowed. “Yes. Yeah. After school. Empty classroom. We can go over everything. I’ll bring my notes.”

You gave him a half-smile. “You’re kinda intense. But sure. I’ll be there.”

---

The sunlight through the high windows looked cinematic, all golden and warm, stretching across the desks. The building was nearly silent, just the faint hum of AC and distant chatter.

You walked in to find Wumuti already set up, books stacked, pencil case perfectly arranged, a bottle of water beside his books. He looked up as you entered, nervous.

“Hi. You came.”

“Of course,” you said, dropping into the desk beside his. “You said you’d save me from academic death.”

He gave a little laugh. “Let’s start with force equations.”

---

At first, it was just normal tutoring.

Well, normal in the sense that Wumuti explained things in that soft, low voice that made formulas sound almost soothing. His handwriting was stupidly clean. You kept watching the way his lips moved while he talked, the way his glasses slid down his nose every few minutes and he pushed them back up with his knuckle.

After a while, your attention drifted.

“Are you even listening?” he asked.

You smirked. “Not really. Your lips are kinda distracting.”

His whole body froze.

“W-What?”

You leaned forward on your elbow. “You have a little crush on me, don’t you?”

He blinked fast. His cheeks went red.

“N-No-well-not a crush-I mean I admire your… confidence? Or-uh-”

You tilted your head. “You’re really bad at lying.”

He bit his lip. Hard.

Then, finally, whispered:

“…I’ve liked you for a while”

You stared at him for a second. You hadn’t expected him to admit it.

Your heartbeat stuttered. Something in your chest flipped over.

Slowly, you reached over and tugged his pencil out of his hand.

“Then do something about it.”

His breath hitched. He looked at your lips. Then your eyes. Then your lips again.

And kissed you.

It was soft, clumsy, nervous, his glasses bumped your nose, but he kissed you like it had been eating him alive. His fingers clenched your sleeve like he didn’t know if you’d vanish if he let go.

You kissed back, firmer. Deeper. His lips parted against yours, and you slid your tongue in gently, teasing until he moaned against your mouth.

The sound went straight to your gut.

---

The kiss turned feverish. Books forgotten. Desks creaking as you pushed him back slightly.

Wumuti’s hands were trembling, but he didn’t stop you when you climbed into his lap, straddling him in the chair. He made the softest sound when your hips pressed down on his.

“We’re in a classroom,” he breathed, flushed and wild eyed.

You leaned down to whisper against his ear.

“So be quiet.”

His hands grabbed your waist, tighter now, bolder. His hips moved up to meet yours.

He was hard.

You grinded slowly, letting the friction build. He buried his face in your shoulder, muffling the little moans he couldn’t seem to hold back.

“Touch me,” you whispered, your hands guiding his.

He obeyed. Tentatively at first. Then with hunger.

---

Clothes came off in a rush, hoodie over the head, shirts pushed up, skin against skin, warm and electric. His fingers brushed down your chest, tracing like he was memorizing you.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

You grinned. “Nerd.”

He blushed harder. “Still true.”

When you finally took off your pants, his breath caught.

“Can I…?”

You nodded.

He leaned down between your legs, mouth curious, tongue shy but eager. You moaned low and soft, running your fingers through his hair, feeling him get bolder with every movement.

“Fuck, Wumuti…”

He looked up, lips wet. Eyes blown wide.

You didn’t wait.

You pulled him up, kissed him hard, and whispered, “I want you to fuck me.”

His knees went weak.

“I-I’ve never… I mean-”

“First time for everything.”

---

You bent over the desk, body shaking in anticipation as he slowly worked his fingers in awkward, gentle, so careful. He whispered things like “Is this okay?” and “You’re so warm…” like he couldn’t believe it was happening.

When he finally pushed in, you both moaned.

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Y/n…”

You reached back and gripped his wrist. “Move. Please.”

And he did.

Slowly at first, trying not to lose control, but it was too much. Too tight. Too good. He fucked you like he couldn’t hold back any longer. You whimpered, gripping the edge of the desk, legs trembling.

He kissed your spine. Your neck. Murmured your name like a prayer.

You came first, crying out into your arm.

He followed seconds later, spilling inside you with a desperate, broken moan, his body pressed fully against yours.

---

You both lay half dressed across the desk, panting. His hand was on your back. Yours tangled in his hoodie.

“…so,” you whispered, “is this part of the curriculum?”

He laughed, breathless. “Definitely not.”

You tilted your head. “You still gonna tutor me?”

He pushed up his glasses, still flushed. “Only if we always do practical application after”

You smirked. “Deal.”

[hehe1m0n]

𝓓𝓪𝓵𝓲 | he/him | 07 | 𝑅𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓈—𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓷

( 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 ) ✿ ( 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

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⋆˙⟡ 𝘞𝘰𝘯𝘣𝘪𝘯 coming soon

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