fashion
in which… martin tries to teach you the piece of choreo you’re constantly missing but ends up forgetting all about it himself
tags; 6thmember!reader x martin drabble kissing making out skinship fluff? martin's kinda cocky 1431 words
lici talks! have this while i’m still trying to figure out on how to write my next smau this has been sitting in my notes for A WHILE & also i wrote this at about 3am after having a nightmare about my spanish oral exam so idk how the helly i even came up with this. likes, comments & reblogs are encouraged and appreciated as always!
the bass was practically vibrating through the floorboards of the practice room, rattling the metal water bottles sitting near the door. it was nearly midnight, the harsh fluorescent lights of the cortis practice room swapped out for the dim, warm ambient glow of a single studio lamp in the corner. everyone else had gone home hours ago, leaving only the two of you to suffer through the repetitive counts of the choreography.
as the sixth member of cortis—and the only female member—you still felt like you were constantly running to catch up. the guys were always patient with you, but you could feel the invisible weight of the cameras, the fans, the upcoming stages. you didn't want to be the one who dragged the performance down. especially not with their iconic debut track, fashion.
"again," martin said quietly, his voice a little hoarse. he was standing in the center of the room, running a hand through his damp, messy blonde hair. he was wearing an oversized black hoodie and grey sweatpants, looking every bit the exhausted but hyper-focused perfectionist he always became in the studio. even standing relaxed, his towering frame cast a long shadow over you, making you feel incredibly small in his presence.
you nodded, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, and stepped back into your starting position. the track restarted, the intro beat sliding into the room like a physical presence. you moved together, mirroring his sharp, clean angles in the massive studio mirror. for a minute, the synchronization was flawless. you felt the rhythm, matching his pace, your sneakers squeaking in unison against the polished floor.
then came his verse. his iconic rap part. martin stepped forward, his eyes locking onto his own reflection, lips moving rapidly as his delivery hit that familiar, effortless stride:
angeonho naega san ot bogo mworago malhaedo jikyeo nae gojip—
you were supposed to slide behind him, transitioning smoothly to the left flank, but your shoe caught on a sticky patch of flooring. your balance wavered. instead of gliding past, your momentum carried you directly into his side, your shoulder slamming into his back with a sudden, clumsy thud.
you gasped, fully expecting to crash face-first onto the hard floor. but martin's reflexes were instantaneous. his rap cut off mid-syllable as his hands flew out, his strong grip wrapping firmly around your waist to stabilize you. instead of falling, you were pulled flush against his chest, your hands instinctively clutching at the fabric of his hoodie for dear life, your head reaching his chest as he held you up.
for a second, the music kept playing in the background, a sharp contrast to the sudden stillness between you.
martin's chest was heaving against yours, his breath hot on your forehead. at first, his eyes flared with that familiar, intense frustration he got when a run was ruined. he looked down at you from his tall height, his brows knitted tightly together.
"bro, what the hell are you doing?" he burst out, his voice sharp and rough from the dry studio air. "you're supposed to—"
he stopped.
the words died in his throat. because right there, mere inches apart, you were looking up at him with wide, breathless eyes, your lips slightly parted. his hands were still locked tightly around your waist, fingers digging into the hem of your shirt, holding you so close you could feel the rapid, heavy thud of his heart against your own ribs. you had to tilt your head all the way back just to meet his gaze.
the silence stretched, thick and suffocating, swallowing the music entirely. martin's gaze dropped down to your lips, and something shifted in his eyes—the irritation instantly melting into a dark, burning tension that had been building between you two for months.
before you could even draw another breath, he leaned down, completely closing the distance between his height and yours, and crashed his lips onto yours.
the kiss was sudden, fierce, and entirely overwhelming. a quiet gasp escaped you, which he immediately drank in, his grip on your waist tightening as he easily lifted you slightly off your heels to pull you impossibly closer. all the lingering exhaustion, the stress of the comeback, and the unsaid words between you exploded into the kiss. his lips were warm and slightly dry, moving against yours with an intensity that made your knees go weak. you reached up, your fingers tangling into the damp, soft strands of his blonde hair, pulling him down further as you kissed him back just as desperately.
he let out a low, muffled sound against your mouth, a sound of pure surrender. his tongue swiped against your lower lip, deepening the kiss, turning it slow, bruising, and deep. for a long, dizzying minute, the entire world narrowed down to the heat of his hands on your body and the taste of him.
when he finally pulled away, it was slow, his lips lingering against yours for one last, soft friction. both of you were panting heavily, chests rising and falling in rapid, uneven sync—partly from the intense choreography they had just run, but mostly from the sheer force of the kiss.
martin took a step back, his eyes dark and dilated. he ran a shaky hand through his messy blonde hair, pulling at the roots as he looked down at the floor, a flush creeping up his neck. he looked completely thrown, trying to process the sudden shift.
"what the fuck..." he muttered under his breath, voice incredibly low as he paced a step back, looking like he was having a silent crisis.
your heart was hammering against your ribs. feeling suddenly exposed under the studio lights, you stepped back, moving toward the long, dark wooden counter lining the side wall where your bags and water bottles were kept. you leaned back against the edge of the counter, your hands gripping the polished wood behind you to keep yourself steady.
the silence in the room was deafening now, filled only by the sound of your shared, heavy breathing.
you swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "martin, i... i'm sorry, i didn't mean to—"
but before you could even finish the sentence, martin's eyes snapped up. seeing you leaning there, looking breathless and flushed, something in him snapped. he didn't let you finish. in three quick, determined strides, he crossed the room, cutting off your apology entirely.
he didn't say a single word. he just grabbed your face, his large hands framing your jaw as his lips crashed back onto yours with a desperate, heavy force. you gasped into his mouth, your hands immediately flying to his chest, but he was already moving, crowding you back against the counter.
mid-kiss, with his hands sliding down to grip your waist with effortless strength, he lifted you completely off the ground. the sudden change in height made your head spin, but before you could pull away, he set you firmly onto the edge of the high wooden counter, his body immediately stepping in close between your thighs to lock you in place. he didn't let your lips separate for even a fraction of a second, his tongue deepening the kiss the moment your legs wrapped around his waist.
this kiss was even more intense than the first, fueled by the sheer physics of his towering height and the sudden, breathless elevation. he kissed you like he wanted to leave a mark, his hands moving to grip your hips, pressing you firmly against him as if he wanted to dissolve the very space between you. your fingers dug hard into his shoulders, your mind completely blank except for the overwhelming, warm weight of him.
slowly, martin pulled his lips away, though he kept his forehead rested against yours. both of your breaths mingled in the small space between your faces, shallow and hot.
his eyes fluttered open, looking up at you with a soft, quiet intensity. his lips were pink, slightly swollen, and a small, breathless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
he reached up, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering on your cheek for just a second longer before he reluctantly stepped back, releasing his hold on your waist.
he cleared his throat, his eyes sparkling with a familiar, playful spark as he looked up at you sitting on the counter.
"alright," he murmured, his voice still rough but carrying a hint of his usual stubborn confidence. "from the top. let's go."
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