#predebut

Number One Fan

Martin x fem!reader oneshot.

⸻

I had no idea how I even ended up at the dorm this late—it had started with me dropping by earlier in the evening just to hang out with everyone, but somehow it turned into dinner, then card games with the members, then Martin asking if I wanted to stay a little longer. Now, hours later, the dorm had gone quiet. One by one, everyone else had retreated to their rooms, muttering goodnights with sleepy voices, leaving just me and Martin in the living room.

The TV was on, playing some action movie neither of us had chosen on purpose. It was background noise more than anything, a soft glow lighting the room since the main lights were off.

Martin was beside me on the couch, legs stretched out, phone in his hand as he lazily scrolled through it. I was tucked under a blanket on the other end, pretending to watch the screen but really just sneaking glances at him when he wasn’t looking.

It was strange, seeing him like this. Not the Martin who performed on stage, not the one who laughed loudest when the group did chaotic livestreams—but this quiet version of him, relaxed and unguarded. His hair fell slightly into his eyes, and every once in a while he’d let out this soft chuckle at something on his phone.

I didn’t realize how long I had been staring until he caught me.

“You good?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve been quiet for a while. I thought you fell asleep with your eyes open or something.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “No… just thinking.”

He tilted his head, giving me that look he always did when he wanted to pry but didn’t want to push too hard. “About what?”

I hesitated. My fingers twisted in the blanket, my heart thudding a little too fast for how calm the moment was. Maybe it was the hour, or maybe it was just the fact that it was just us—no other voices, no distractions—that made me feel bold enough to say what I’d been carrying in my chest.

“Martin…” I whispered, my voice almost drowned out by the TV. “When you… when you get really famous, like stadium tours, awards, all of that… I just wanted you to know something.”

He immediately put his phone down, turning fully toward me. “Okay… what?”

I swallowed, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “That no matter how big you get, no matter how far you go… I’ll always be your number one fan. Always.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything, just looked at me. The silence stretched long enough that I felt heat crawl up my neck, and I shifted uncomfortably, wondering if I had said too much. But then, his lips curved into the softest smile I’d ever seen.

“You already are,” he murmured.

My breath caught. He moved closer, tugging at the edge of my blanket until he was under it too. Our knees brushed, and I could feel the warmth radiating from him. Slowly, he slipped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I let myself sink into him, my head finding its place on his shoulder. His hoodie smelled faintly like detergent and something uniquely him, something comforting. I closed my eyes for a moment, just breathing him in, trying to memorize it.

“You know,” he said softly, almost like he was confessing something himself, “I don’t really care about being famous if it means I lose moments like this. Being with people who actually… see me. Not just the stage version of me.”

I tilted my head up slightly, catching the seriousness in his expression. His eyes met mine, steady and warm.

“I mean it,” he added, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. The touch lingered just long enough to make my chest ache in the sweetest way. “No matter how far I go, you’ll always be my number one too.”

My throat felt tight, and I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make me cry, so I just nodded, letting myself melt further into his side. His hand rubbed absent circles along my arm, and the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek lulled me into calm.

The movie kept playing, but neither of us were paying attention anymore. The only thing I could focus on was how warm and safe I felt, cocooned under the blanket with him. Slowly, my eyelids grew heavy, and before I knew it, sleep was tugging me under.

The last thing I felt before slipping into dreams was Martin’s arm tightening protectively around me, holding me close as if to promise he meant every word.

And for the first time in a long time, I fell asleep smiling.

Will Smith Baseball

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐮𝟎𝟕𝟎𝟒

The video starts with a shaky, vertical frame typical of a 2015 smartphone. You can hear the iconic techno-pop intro of Gangnam Style blasting through distorted karaoke speakers. The camera is tucked behind a plastic bottle of water on a table, giving it that classic "hidden" trainee pov.

Yeoni is center stage, wearing an oversized hoodie and leggings, hair in a messy ponytail. She isn't just singing; she’s performing for her life. Every time the chorus hits, she executes the horse dance with terrifying precision, her face completely deadpan and serious, which makes the whole thing ten times funnier.

To her left, BamBam is basically a blur of limbs. He’s jumping on the leather booth seats, swinging a glowing tambourine like his life depends on it. He keeps trying to out-dance her, but Yeoni just elbows him out of the way to get closer to the monitor.

Bang Chan is the one holding the second mic. He’s trying to be the "professional" one, hitting the background vocals and ad-libs with actual soul, but he keeps breaking character and doubling over in laughter. At one point, you see him point the mic at Yeoni during the "Oppa Gangnam Style" drop, and she hits the line with a deep, gravelly voice that causes the person filming to let out a loud, wheezing laugh.

The clip ends abruptly when a door opens in the background likely a staff member or another trainee and all three of them scramble to sit down and act "normal" in half a second, though the music is still blaring at max volume.

pre debut manon does something to me…