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martin x reader
in which you and martin try to keep your relationship a secret, but the members have already known for weeks.
includes; kissing
wc; 1,380
you’re in the practice room after hours, the lights switched to the lowest setting a few hours ago, something along the lines of eye care. the rest of members left a while ago, james complained about dinner, juhoon dragged seonghyeon out with a promise of fried chicken, and keonho was already halfway down the hall with his headphones on. martin stayed behind with the excuse of “fixing the new track,” and you stayed because you’re the one who usually brings him food when the schedule runs late, atleast that's what you told the others.
no one questioned it. that should have been your first clue.
you’re sitting on the floor with your back against the mirrors, legs stretched out, scrolling through comments on a fancam someone posted of their last performance. martin is across the room at the make shift production setup, one earbud in as he hums a melody under his breath. his hair is still damp from practice, pushed back messily with one of the headbands he stole from you. he glances over to you every few minutes.
it’s comfortable, quiet, easy.
“you hungry?” you ask without looking up from the tiktok edit playing on your phone.
“starving,” he answers, voice low and a little rough from singing all day. “did you bring the kimbap?”
you reach into your bag and slide one of the wrapped rolls across the floor. it slides perfectly, stopping right by his foot. he bends down with a small laugh, one that makes your stomach flip.
“thanks, babe.”
the petname slips out naturally. he doesn’t even notice he's said it. you do, eyes darting toward the door even though it’s closed and the hallway has been silent for over an hour.
“martin,” you mutter, half warning, half amused.
“what?” he unwraps the kimbap and takes a bite, acting as if him calling you 'babe' is the most normal thing in the world. “no one’s here.”
“that’s what you said last week, remember? and then keonho walked in asking if we wanted to split the last ramen packet.”
martin shrugs, that easy smile tugging at his mouth. “keonho’s just annoying. doesn’t mean he or the others know.”
you give him a midly annoyed look. “seonghyeon literally asked me yesterday if my hoodie was the one you ‘lost’.”
“he was guessing.”
“he described the exact stain from when you spilled coffee on it two weeks ago.”
martin pauses mid bite, then laughs under his breath, the sound warm and oddly comforting. he sets the kimbap down, stands up and crosses the room in a few long steps, dropping down beside you so his shoulder bumps yours. he smells like the practice room, sweaty, faint cologne, and that weird citrus shampoo they keep buying.
“okay, maybe a couple of them suspect,” he admits, voice quieter now. his hand finds yours, fingers locking together, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “but we’re being careful. no couple stuff in front of staff. no pda. no one will find out.”
you raise an eyebrow. “careful? you mean like the text you sent last night that just said ‘come over, the guys are asleep and I miss you’ with three heart emojis?”
he winces. “they were asleep! it's not like they were next to me looking at my phone”
“don't all the members know your password? any one of them could open your phone and see it.”
martin groans, tilting his head back against the mirror. “we need better friends.”
“you need better friends. i just have a boyfriend who thinks he’s slick.”
he turns his head, grinning now, the kind of grin that makes his eyes crinkle and reminds you why you fell for him in the first place. “i am slick. watch.”
he leans in like he’s about to kiss you. your heart does its usual little jump. then the door to the practice room opens without a knock.
juhoon stands there, holding a take out bag that smells suspiciously like the chicken he mentioned earlier. he stares at you for a second, at the way the two of you are sitting way too close, the way your hands still linked, the way martin is halfway leaned in.
juhoon doesn’t even blink. “left my charger. also, there’s extra chicken if you guys want some. we got the spicy one you like, yn.”
martin straightens so fast he nearly knocks his own head against the mirror. you pull your hand back, cheeks heating up rapidly.
“we were just...” martin starts.
“talking about the new track,” you finish, almost too quickly.
juhoon just nods, face deadpan. “sure. the track. that’s why you’re holding hands and looking at each other like that.” he walks over to the corner where his charger is plugged in, unplugs it, and stuffs it in his pocket. on the way back out he pauses. “you know we all know, right? since like the first month. seonghyeon made a group chat about it. keonho keeps updating it with pictures of you two.”
martin’s mouth opens, then closes. you feel your face burn hotter, and you're pretty sure you look like a tomato.
juhoon continues. “james thought it was cute at first. now he just wants you to go public so he can stop pretending he doesn’t hear you two on the phone at night.”
“we’re not...” you start.
“...that loud,” martin finishes weakly.
juhoon snorts. “tell that to the thin walls. anyway, chicken’s in the lounge if you’re done.” he waves the bag. “don’t stay too late. curfew’s not a suggestion just because you’re the leader, martin.”
the door clicks shut behind him.
silence stretches for what seems like an eternity. then martin lets out a long breath and drops his head onto your shoulder, half laughing, half groaning.
“shit.”
“yeah,” you say, reaching up to thread your fingers through his hair. “we’re terrible at this.”
“the worst.” his voice is muffled against your hoodie, his hoodie actually, the one with the coffee stain seonghyeon somehow knew about. “i thought we were being careful.”
he lifts his head, eyes meeting yours. there’s no real panic there, not really. “maybe we should just stop hiding?”
you consider it. the company knows, technically, management had the talk months ago about discretion and image and “timing.”
“maybe,” you say softly. “or maybe we keep pretending for another week and hope they forget about it?.”
martin laughs, he shifts closer, arm sliding around your shoulders properly this time. “they're not that dumb.”
“you’re the one who thought we were being slick.”
he kisses your temple. “i am slick.”
you turn your head and kiss him properly, quick, soft, the kind of kiss you’ve done a hundred times before. when you pull back, his eyes are softer.
“chicken?” he asks.
“chicken,” you awnser.
you stand up, gathering your things. martin slings your bag over his shoulder without asking. as you head down the hallway toward the lounge, you hear the low sound of overlapping voices and the clink of metal chopsticks against porcelain bowls. someone, probably seonghyeon from the sound of it, laughs at something.
inside the lounge, the others are scattered around the table like it’s any other night. juhoon doesn’t even look up from his phone. james slides two containers your way, keonho and seonghyeon grin, wide and knowing and way too amused.
no one says a word about it.
martin sits beside you, close enough that his knee presses against yours under the table. you eat the chicken and listen to them bicker about choreography and who ate the last dumpling from the fridge. it feels normal.
later, when the others have finally wandered off to the dorms and it’s just the two of you cleaning up the mess, martin pulls you in, properly this time, arms around your waist, because he know no one’s coming back this time.
“hi.”
“hi.”
“guess the secret’s out,” he murmurs against your hair.
“guess so.”
“still love me?”
you lift your head up. “yes.”
he kisses you then, slowy, unhurried, like he has all the time in the world. when he pulls back, there’s that usual confidence mixed with something softer, something just for you.
you stay like that for a minute, the building empty around you.
www.juhooniey.com
juhoon x reader
a drabble in which your earphones get tangled,
and your bf is a show off
you’re sitting on the couch in the dorm’s living room, earphones in your hands, fighting a losing battle with the cord that’s somehow knotted itself into a miniature bird’s nest. you’ve been at it for a solid five minutes, muttering curses and obscenities under your breath, yanking too hard, then regretting yanking too hard because it causes the knots to tighten even more.
juhoon walks in from the kitchen, a half eaten apple in one hand, his phone in the other, and stops a few steps away. he watches you for a minute.
you glance up, frustrated, brows furrowed (which juhoon finds oddly endearing). “don’t even say anything.”
he doesn’t. instead, he just sighs, soft, almost entertained, and steps closer. he takes the headphones from your fingers.
his hands are steady, his long fingers start to detangle the cord, calmly, annoyingly fast. a twist here, a loop pulled through there. in under ten seconds the knots are gone, and the wire is hanging straight.
he gives them back to you, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“you’re welcome,” he says, before taking another bite of his apple and walking toward the hallway, acting like he didn’t save you from your own incompetence just a minute ago.
you stare at his back, cheeks growing redder with every step.
> let me know the trope or scenario, category (fluff, angst etc) and member(s)
> make sure your request is understandable/clear but not too long (1.5k max)
> i mostly write gn reader for fluff, and fem/afab reader for nsfw
> i may not be able to get to all request as fast as i'd like!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
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