Ch1: New Beginnings
teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales || W/C: 8.8k
Ch. Summary: Frankie gets introduced to a new opportunity for his daughter, Elena. You get introduced to your new job. In celebration of these new beginnings, you both set out to a night at the bar, completely unaware that your paths are about to cross.
Content/Warnings: F!reader (she/her), female sex anatomy, reader is able-bodied. No physical descriptions of reader. Slight description of reader’s outfit (no size descriptions). Tío Santi (& TF Miller boys) makes an appearance. Slight implication reader understands some Spanish. Going out to bar/consumption of alcohol. Flirting. POV switch, mainly Frankie this chapter. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Sexual activity while under the influence of alcohol (you've slowed down your alcohol intake by that point, though). “Author Chose Not to Apply Archive Warnings” because it may result in spoilers (but there’s smut here…).
A/N: thank you to @honeyedmiller for proof-reading this for me, and thank you to @javierpena-inatacvest for peer pressuring me into giving my little idea an actual chance. I love love love you both sm🩶 to everyone, I truly hope you enjoy!! All my love xx
series masterlist || main masterlist || updates blog
August 2024
“Thank you so much for coming in, Mr. Morales.”
“It’s no problem at all, Mrs. Adams, is- is, um, is everything okay? Is Elena doing alright?” Frankie asks the second grade teacher, concerned.
The school year hasn’t started yet, but from time to time, the school does accelerated summer sessions that last a few weeks up until the actual start date of the school year. Elena always attends these sessions, begging her dad every summer to sign her up for one because I need to learn more! she’d tell him. How could he deny her the chance to expand that beautiful mind of hers?
“Oh, yes, everything is good! Elena is wonderful, and that’s actually why I asked you to come in,” she states. “Are you aware of how smart that girl is?”
Frankie can’t help the cheesy grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah, she’s always too excited to show me her progress reports and report cards, always pulling them out before we even leave the parking lot at the end of her days,” he beams.
“Oh, I bet. She blows me away everyday, that girl,” Mrs. Adams says genuinely. “So much so that I actually think she shouldn’t be attending here anymore,” the teacher adds, softer than the rest of her previous statements.
Frankie’s eyebrows twist in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Well, don’t get me wrong, I love having Elena, and everyone in this school loves her, too. She’s one of our brightest. But,” she sighs. “She is so damn smart, Mr. Morales. I’d go as far as to say she’s a prodigy.”
“Oh,” Frankie says, pleasantly surprised and confused. He still doesn’t know where she’s getting at. He tells her as much.
“What I’m trying to say is- Elena isn’t getting the proper brain stimulation someone of her level needs. She needs to go somewhere that will increase her levels at the fast rate she’s moving and somewhere that will stimulate the creative parts of her brain. Traditional public school—at least here—cannot provide her with that.”
Frankie has always known his daughter’s natural intelligence. She often comes home either excited because they worked on a topic she’s really good at, or she comes home really bored and exhausted—because they worked on a topic she’s really good at. It’s too repetitive for her, but he wasn’t sure what other options he had.
Frankie takes a moment to think. “Even if I did move her to a school that has all this, it sounds like it would cost a lot of money. Money that I unfortunately don’t have right now,” he says with a heavy breath.
Mrs. Adams’ smile grows ten times bigger. “Mr. Morales-”
“Frankie, please,” he corrects.
“Frankie, there’s a school for the gifted connected to our local university just a few miles down the way. I used to work there, and I have friends there. Please forgive me if I’ve overstepped, but I’ve spoken to the Director of Admissions. There’s a waitlist, and barely any get admitted—and it’s by semester, so you’ll have to keep up with re-enrolling her—but I told them all about Elena. They want her, Frankie. No waitlist. No tuition. They want her for this new semester. And I really think you should go for it.”
Frankie sits in Mrs. Adams’ office, utterly stunned. He’s sure his jaw is on the floor right now, eyes bugged out like those squeezable stress toys. “I- I don’t know what to say…” Frankie trails off.
“I know it’s a big step,” the teacher comforts. “But think about it.” She pulls out a card from her desk and hands it to him. “Here’s the director’s card. I’ll reach out to them to make sure they know to expect your call.”
Frankie knows this is a good thing. He knows these are once in a lifetime opportunities, and he knows if he goes through with this now, those rare opportunities won’t be so rare for her as she gets older. That’s all he wants for his daughter; nothing but opportunity and the right kind of challenges meant to help her grow as a person.
So why does he feel so nervous? He’s dealt with change before, and he’s dealt with last-minute, under pressure change up in the sky where his life could’ve been on the line—but nothing compares to the anxiety when it involves Elena. Since she was born, she is all he’s ever known. It’s been him and her against the world, and although some days are more difficult than others doing this parenting thing alone, Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way.
He gives Mrs. Adams his thank yous and goodbyes, and makes his way to the front office. It’s 12 o’ clock right now—recess time—but he wouldn’t doubt she’s propped up against a pillar with her nose in a book. He decides to check Elena out early and take her to go get dessert.
“She’ll be escorted here in a few minutes,” the front desk lady tells him.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Frankie says, resting his back against the wall.
A few minutes pass and the office’s door bursts open with the heartwarming sounds of his daughter’s giggles, an excited aura filling the room. “¡Papi!” she squeals, immediately wrapping her arms around the parts of her father she can reach.
“¡Mija!” he says, matching her energy, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. He kneels down to reach her level, placing a kiss on her forehead before he speaks. “Wanna go get dessert?”
Her eyes light up like a million stars. “Please!!” she replies, her entire body shaking in Frankie’s grasp.
Frankie picks her up, and they make their way to the car. Buckling her into her car seat, Frankie settles himself to the driver’s seat and asks the burning question before he pulls off. “Brownie sundae spot or-”
“BROWNIE!” Elena replies immediately. Frankie has to slap his mouth to stop from the uncontrollable laughter bubbling out from his chest. He knew what her answer would be. “Okay, mija, brownie spot it is.”
Their usual brownie sundae spot is in a little diner up the street from their house. Frankie began this little tradition as a way to celebrate Elena’s wins and milestones. The first milestone they celebrated was for her first word: airplane. Frankie was ecstatic, practically jumping up and down with Elena in his arms until his best friend, Santiago, had to calm him down. “Ay, tranquilo, tranquilo,” relax, relax, he said, holding his hands softly around Elena’s little head.
Today’s milestone, however, is much bigger than any they’ve celebrated, and the notion is not lost on little Elena.
“Papi,” she calls. “Are we celebrating something?”
Frankie chuckles to himself, loving how easily she can put things together. “We might be, mi amorcito.”
“Hm?” She hums, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side as she settles into the booth seat, sitting across from her dad.
Their usual waiter comes before they can continue their conversation. “Hey, guys! The usual?”
Elena answers first, very excitedly. “YES, YES, BROWNIE SUNDAE!!!” She squeals as she elongates every syllable. Frankie confirms with a head nod as he chuckles at her energy.
“What’s the occasion?” The waiter says softer, directing the question to Frankie.
“We’ll see after I talk with this little lady,” Frankie tells the waiter, extending his long arm out to pinch Elena’s little cheek.
The waiter smiles and walks off, putting the order in with the kitchen and asking for a little bit of a delay to give Frankie enough time to talk things through with his daughter.
“So,” Frankie states.
“So,” his daughter mirrors, putting on her best serious face while fighting the huge grin that wants to break free.
“Do you know how smart you are, mija?” Frankie asks, smiling because he knows what she’s gonna say. Duh, papi, he thinks in his head.
“Duh, papi!” She says, a troublemaking giggle she’s had since her babbling stages echoes their little corner of the diner.
“Alright, little smart ah-” Frankie coughs to stop his mouth. “You little smarty pants,” he corrects himself.
“Daddy, were you about to call me a smartass?” She scolds.
His cheeks flush a bright red. “You spend too much time with Tío Santi,” he deadpans.
She hums, nodding her head triumphantly.
“Anyway,” he says, noting in his mind to scold Santi for his mouth around his little girl. “You’re so smart, mija, I was wondering… well, I was wondering if you feel like you’re actually learning?”
“What do you mean, papi?”
“Well, everything you’ve been learning so far is super easy for you, isn’t it?”
She ponders for a moment. “Yeah, it’s easy,” she confirms.
“Does it ever make you bored, how easy some days are?”
“A little, yeah,” she says a little softer. “But it’s okay because I end up helping my friends, and Mrs. Adams tells me I’m her assistant,” she giggles with pride.
“You’re too good, amor,” he chuckles. “But what if I told you,” he starts. Immediately, her interest is piqued. “A really fancy, really smart school heard about how smart you are?”
Her chocolate brown eyes widen, and her little jaw drops. “Me?! Really?!”
“Yes, baby!” Frankie can feel his excitement rising alongside hers, his initial nervousness fading just as quick. “And what if I told you they want you to go to their school?” Elena’s hands fly to her mouth, suppressing her squeals of joy. Frankie can hear her legs kicking back and forth underneath the table. “Would you wanna go, mi niña inteligente (my smart girl)?”
“So… I’ll learn harder things?” She asks.
“Yes,” he swallows thickly. Frankie thinks she’s having anxiety.
It’s not. “Then…” She settles for her usual diva answer. “Duh, papi!” She giggles, positively radiating pure excitement on this new journey she’s about to embark on.
She wiggles out of her side of the booth to crash into her father’s arms, pulling him into the tightest hug ever. As she pulls away and settles next to Frankie, the waiter comes out with the sundae, Congratulations! written in cursive on the side of the plate. Elena reads the message with ease, scooping up the red icing with her finger and licking it up. “Thank you!!” She exclaims to the waiter who murmurs a sweet smartest person I know with a ruffle to her curly head of hair.
The waiter looks at Frankie with a genuine smile, and Frankie returns it. This diner really has been there for all the Morales’ family wins. Frankie wonders what other miracles just might happen in this little building.
For the first time in your teaching career, you are nervous.
You’ve dealt with gifted children before, and you had no problems juggling public school and the extra side lessons you’d give to the occasional gifted child. People tend to underestimate the amount of prodigal children in the world due to the constant brushing off these adults like to give to developing humans. These little children deserve as much respect and care that any other human deserves, maybe even more. The children are our future, after all.
So, now that you’re starting a new job, in a school dedicated to your life’s passion—yeah, you’re pretty nervous.
This school was created by the state’s local university; it was their attempt at providing children with an enriching, stimulating environment that the typical school system couldn’t care enough to provide, and their attempt was an absolute success. It will take a little while to get themselves off their feet, so tuition and enrolling students is expensive compared to what you would pay for your child in the public education system.
However, with time and careful planning, the program’s ultimate goal is to adequately provide to childrens of all needs—regardless of their prodigal status—for little to no cost. It’s definitely an ambitious goal, but it’s one you’re absolutely ready and willing to stick around for.
You were hired this summer, August 1st to be exact. The principal—Ms. Sabatino—caught wind of the powerhouse of a teacher who goes above and beyond for her students, and she just had to have you on her team. Your interview wasn’t even a real interview: it was exchanging logistical information and showing you to your new home base, your new classroom. She told you if you wanted to take the time before the year officially started to make your classroom feel more like you, you could.
It took you about a week to settle the vibe of your classroom, and during your preparations, you met a few other teachers, instantly hitting it off with each other that they invited you to their “semester pregame,” they called it.
“You have to come, Ms. Powerhouse!” Ms. Smith—Linda, she corrected you—exclaimed.
“Powerhouse?!” You repeated, a little frightened. You knew coming in that the culture here was very tight-knit, but how fast does word really spread around here?
“Yeah, you powerhouse, you!” Mr. White—Blake—chimes in. “You’re all anyone is talking about! Honestly, we’ve been dying to meet you.”
And lastly, Ms. Marshall—Leah—joins in. “You’re a real legend, ya know that, don’t you? Sticking to the Rebel theme we got going on here,” she smirks, referring to their school’s mascot, the Rebels.
You flush under all their praise. “I really don’t know what you guys are talking about,” you say softly. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for our kiddos, like any of us would.” A proud smile graces your face, and not for the things you’ve done, but for the amazing students you’ve had the honor of meeting and teaching. There truly isn’t a better feeling.
The three teachers share a knowing look, the one that tells you they think you’re just trying to be humble. Their hums of secret agreement don’t escape your super-teacher hearing.
Ms. Marshall is the one to speak again. “Are you going to come though? We really would love to have you. We’ve been trying to find someone who can hold their alcohol better than Mr. Lightweight here can,” she cackles, pointing over to Mr. White, who now has an offended look on his face.
“I’ll have you know-” he starts. “Oh, Blake, enough with the excuses already!” Ms. Smith cuts him off.
You giggle at their banter, your apprehensiveness about this little squad slowly melting away. “I’m afraid if you’re looking for someone who can hold their own, that person is not me…but I would absolutely love to join you guys. When and where is this pregame?”
“YAAASSSSSS!” Ms. Smith is quick to squeal. She’s definitely the life of the party with these three. “We have it the Saturday before the semester starts! So, the 17th I believe. It’s a bit risky depending on how plastered we end up getting, but it’s all a part of the fun,” she says with a wink.
You reach for your phone in your back pocket, unlocking and letting your three new friends put their phone numbers in. You group text them so they have your number, too. “Perfect! I can’t wait,” you say sheepishly, your excitement slowly rising as their smiles begin to mirror your own. It’s been a while since you let yourself go and get lost in something else other than work, and you think this little pregame is exactly what you’ve been needing.
“Oh, come on, Fish! You have to come out with us!” Santi tells you, giving Frankie’s shoulder a punch of encouragement.
Frankie hisses at the impact, swatting Santi’s hand away with a scowl. “No.”
“Fish,” Santi reasons. “The Millers haven’t seen you in a hot minute since my ‘Lena girl was born, man. They miss you. Especially Benny, you know how sensitive that man gets. And! We need to celebrate this new chapter for you and ‘Lena!”
“We already celebrated,” Frankie corrects. “At the diner.”
“An adult celebration, Fish. When was the last time you let yourself go?”
Frankie sighs. Santi’s right. “Who would watch Elena?”
“I already spoke with Yavonna last night,” Santi says, a tinge of hope laced in his voice.
“Let me talk to Elena-”
“Fish, she’ll be fine-”
Frankie holds his hand out to signal Santi to shut up. “Let me talk to Elena,” he repeats, “and let her know our plans for tomorrow night. You know I don’t do anything without running it through with her first.”
Santi’s face is happier than a toddler getting ice cream for breakfast. He claps him on his shoulder, “Fuck yeah, man! Frontier boys back at it again!”
Frankie grimaces. “Pope, cállate, por favor,” shut up, please, he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he kicks Santi out for the night.
“Tell ‘Lena Tío Santi says buenas noches (good night) please since her daddy likes to kick me out so soon,” Santi taunts, a fake offended look on his face.
“No,” Frankie says. Then he shuts the door.
Frankie lets a few moments pass to make sure Santi was out of sight before he calls out to his daughter. “Baby, tío Santi wishes you good night!”
Elena comes running down the stairs. “He left already?!”
“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” Frankie frowns, meeting her at the end of the stairs to kiss her forehead.
“It’s okay,” she says. “You kicked him out again, didn’t you, daddy?”
“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” Frankie stutters. There’s no lying to this little Einstein.
“Hey, baby?” Frankie says again, crouching down to his knees to meet her level. “Do you remember Yavonna? Tío Santi’s girlfriend?”
Her gears turn before recognition sparks in her eyes. “Yeah!”
“Well, would you be okay if papi went out tomorrow? And you and Yavonna have a girls’ night?” He asks.
Elena’s smile turns mischievous as she pulls her dad in for a hug, whispering in his ear. “Are you going on a date?”
“Mmm, tío Santi is nice and all, but he’s too much a pain in my ass for me to wanna go on a date with him,” he retorts. “So, no, no date. Just spending some time with your annoying uncle and some of our other old friends.”
“Oh, okay,” Elena says as she giggles. “Have fun, papi!”
“I will, baby, thank you,” he says, pulling her into one last hug before they both venture off to bed.
It’s Monday morning, one week before the semester starts, and Frankie is buzzing. He’s nervous and excited for his daughter, but he can tell this new environment is one that gets heavily involved—in both the child and the guardian’s life.
He’ll do anything for Elena, of course, and it isn’t like he wasn’t involved at her old school. But this one makes it feel like he’s also attending this place. The thought terrifies his socially anxious heart.
He puts his car in park and practices a few breathing exercises before he gets out. He has a meeting with the principal today—Ms. Sabatino?, he tries to remember. This meeting is for her to finally get to know him, and for the paperwork to get finalized. And because they aren’t charging him for this semester, he also needs to fill out some waivers.
He makes his way to her office, checking in at the front desk and waiting to be pulled back. His hand fidgets at his side, the nerves getting to him again.
“Mr. Morales?” A voice calls out, pulling him from his nerves. “Ms. Sabatino is ready for you, first door to your left.”
“Thank you,” he replies. He softly knocks on the door before entering.
“Mr. Morales! Come in, come in!” Ms. Sabatino waves him over. “Sit, make yourself comfortable! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well, ma’am, and please, just Frankie is good,” he tells her, a slight shyness in his voice and demeanor.
“Okay then, Frankie,” she smiles. “Let’s see here,” she says, squinting to her computer. “Do you have the enrollment forms?”
“Yes, right here,” Frankie sets the folder in front of her.
“Perfect, thank you,” she replies. “Here, you fill these waiver forms out that we talked about while I upload your forms in for Elena’s profile.”
Frankie mutters a quick okay, sounds good, before Ms. Sabatino speaks again. “While we get through these formalities though, did you have any questions for me? About the program, the teachers, literally anything at all besides what the meaning of life is?” she tries to joke, sensing Frankie’s anxiety.
Mrs. Adams already gave him the rundown of this place, but the financial conversation has been clouding his mind since he first found out about this place. “Well, actually, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the cost,” he starts.
“The cost is no issue, I promise you,” she reassures. But it’s not that. Although Frankie has major social anxiety, he’ll be damned if he comes off as a freeloader—even though absolutely no one here views him that way.
“No, I understand, but it’s more so that-” he pauses, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I’m a single dad. I’m the one catering for both Elena and I. We’re not very well off, but we’re also not entirely poor. Just enough to…not really afford this place,” he shakes his head, he’s rambling. “Anyway- sorry. What I’m trying to say is, money isn’t an issue, but I can’t just sit here and not do anything to pay you guys back, even if it isn’t in a monetary sense.”
This piques the principal’s interest. She nods her head, taking a moment to measure her response. The computer pings as she thinks to herself, signaling that it’s done uploading the forms. She hands Frankie the folder back. He takes it, handing her the completed waiver. “I respect it,” she finally states. “A lot.”
“Y-yeah,” he says, not really sure how to respond to that.
Ms. Sabatino spins in her chair, pausing towards a drawer underneath her desk. She pulls out a little booklet of some sort.
“I have one idea,” she offers.
Frankie’s ears perch up. “Yeah? Anything,” he replies.
“It’s a lot to ask of a parent,” she says. “And I know you’re eager, but hear me out before you agree. And if you’d like to say no, then say no, that’s all I ask.”
“Deal,” Frankie tells her.
“So, last semester, the head of our PTA—the Parent-Teacher Association—quit on us. She quit and also unenrolled her child. Some weird drama, it was very unavoidable if she knew how to communicate properly… anyway, we are actually in need of a new head. I will admit, it’s a lot, but you’ll have me by your side, and I know a few of the parents would help show you the ropes and help you with anything you need.”
Out of everything, Frankie was not expecting this. It’s evident in the shocked look on his face.
“Like I said, I don’t need an answer right now-”
“What about the existing PTA parents?” Frankie blurts out. He may have not been PTA-level involved with his daughter, but he knows the seriousness in which parents take their roles when it comes to this.
“I appoint the head, and choosing one out of all of them would… to be frank… be a bloodbath. This PTA needs a fresh face. A new perspective. I can tell you’re nervous, but I can also tell you’re ambitious. I can tell you’d do anything for your daughter first and foremost. That is what my PTA needs. The rest of those parents- God- I love them, but they’re more worried about looking good and their brownie points with me than their kids’ experiences.”
If Frankie was unsure before, he definitely isn’t now. All he wants is the best for his daughter, and honestly, it makes him disappointed to hear where these parents’ priorities are. He’s absolutely scared shitless about doing this, but he can’t stop the next words that come out of his mouth. “I’ll do it.”
Her eyebrows fly up. “Are you sure?”
He isn't, he thinks. “Yes,” he tells her.
“Oh- okay, then,” Ms. Sabatino smiles bigger than before. She picks up the booklet from earlier and hands it to Frankie. “Read this over- they’re just some little rules we’ve established to keep the environment thriving for our kids. We’ve never had any issues before…besides last semester… but yeah, it’s just a precautionary measure. Thank you so much again, Frankie, and please if it does get too much, do not hesitate to let me know if you’d like to quit.”
He looks down to the book in his hand. The Rebels Guide - PTA Addition. He’s definitely not cut out for this. “Thank you, Ms. Sabatino. I’ll let you know. And I really appreciate you considering me for this. You have a good rest of your day,” Frankie says as he exits.
What the fuck am I doing? He thinks to himself as he gets himself into his car.
The rule book stares at Frankie as he drives. Stopped at a red light, he decides to place it in the glove compartment of his car. He’ll grab it later. For now, he needs it out of his view before he spirals.
Saturday, August 17th. Semester Pregame Day.
You’re in the middle of picking out your outfit when a flood of texts come through your phone.
[5:47PM Linda] You bitches ready?!
[5:48PM Leah] I’ve been ready, just waiting on Mr. Lightweight to get here…
[5:48PM Blake] Yeah okay, I’m not giving you a ride anymore, good luck.
[5:49PM Leah] Blake, I’m kidding, get your ass over here.
[5:49PM Blake] I’ve been outside, smartass.
[5:53PM Leah] Linda, we’re on the way to you. Ms. Powerhouse, are you sure you don’t want a ride?
[5:55PM] Please do not call me that.. And yes, I’m sure! I’m still picking out what I’m gonna wear to be honest. I think I’m gonna be a few minutes late.
[5:56PM Linda] OOOOO GIRL ARE YOU TRYING TO GET LAID?
[5:57PM Leah] 👀
[5:57PM Leah] Blake is driving, but he also would like to say: 👀
[5:58PM] Umm. No. I can’t make myself look nice for my friends?
[5:58PM Linda] In this world? Not without a motif, no.
[5:59PM] Wow.
[5:59PM] Okay, I’ve gotta finish getting ready. See you guys in a bit.
You toss your phone on your bed, not wanting to make yourself any later than you already are. They are right, you don’t necessarily have to get all dressed up. And it’s not like you’re getting laid anytime soon, let alone tonight. Right? Gosh, it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had any action. Well, okay, if you count your trustee wand, then it’s been about an hour since you’ve got some… but human interaction? Yeah, no.
You shake away the deprived thoughts your new friends planted in your brain settling for a sage green tank top with a lace lining at your chest. Something casual yet not too casual, slightly flashy but not too flashy. And since it’s in the middle of August, you decide on some black jean shorts.
It’s 6:15 by the time you head in your car. They wanted to get there around 6:30, so you’re not too far behind after all. It definitely helps that the bar they chose was a seven minute drive.
When you enter the bar, you spot the trio immediately, huddled by a tall table, all already cheering with shots. Linda spots you with a squeal, sending Leah to grab another round with a fourth shot this time.
With the mischievous party glint in her eyes, already you can tell what kind of night you’re going to have. One that makes you think maybe you should’ve caught a ride.
The first shot goes down roughly, an immediate fiery burn sliding down your throat as Linda shoves a lime in your mouth afterwards. “Tequiiilllaaaa shootttsss!!” She sings, already on her fourth to your first.
The second and third round slides down much smoother, your entire body beginning to heat up from its effects. Tequila has always had a fast effect on you, making you buzzed after one shot and effectively fucking you up after the third. Maybe you were a lightweight. Nonetheless, you indulge in one more peer-pressured round from Linda before you settle on a sugary sweet mixed drink paired with a glass of ice cold water.
Linda disappears to the small dance floor while Blake convinces the people at the pool table to let him join. It’s just you and Leah at the table now, talking here and there, but mainly just watching the other two have their fun from afar.
“So how long have you guys been doing this?” You shout over the loud music. Once the clock hit 7pm, the music was definitely hitting the threshold for ear damage.
Leah looks at you with a genuine smile. She’s content watching her friends be social butterflies. She has them in her presence and that’s all that matters. “We’ve been doing this for a few years now, really. Linda was at the school first, then I got hired a semester after her. Then Blake got hired a semester after me. And because we were all relatively new, we all just sort of- gravitated towards each other,” she explains. “I don’t know what I’d do without them, honestly. In and outside of the school, those two are very important in my life,” she breathes in a sniffle, quiet enough to go unheard, but since you’re watching her, you catch it in combination with a tear she sneakily wipes away.
It’s your turn for your eyes to gloss up. “That’s really beautiful,” you tell her.
Leah laughs a little. “Yeah. But don’t tell them though. I’ll have to strangle you,” she says in a mock sternness. Weirdly enough, you think there’s truth behind that.
You pull your hands up in a surrendering motion, “Promise,” you respond with a smirk. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Want?”
“What are you getting?”
“Was honestly just gonna sip on beer and water the rest of the night. I’m tapped out.”
“Me too,” she grins. “I’ll get what you get.”
Making your way up to the bartender, you politely wait until she comes up to you. “What can I get you, doll?”
“Two beers, please, and also two waters, but can you give me the waters after I set the beers down at my table?” you ask a little shyly.
The bartender gives you a sweet smile. “I got you, honey.”
She hands you the beers, and you make your way to Leah. “I gotta grab the waters real fast, give me one second,” you say, already whipping around and making your way back.
In that short span of time, the bartender was met with a crowd of needy newly aged adults, swarming her with requests. She looks at you, but you give her a nod, signaling it’s okay.
Two minutes, she mouths.
You sit down on the stool in front of you while you wait, turning to check on Leah. Her eyes are back on her friends, a warmth radiating from her smile. Only now, you’re a part of her rotation, and the warmth is reciprocated to you, too. And to think you were hesitant with this bunch.
As you sit and wait for the bartender, a group of four rowdy men take up the bar space beside you. One of them even bumps into your side, and you’re quick to jump. “Hey, watch it!” You yell over the noise.
A large hand grabs onto the guy’s shoulder and pulls him away from you. The bar is loud, but it doesn’t stop his deep gruff from blessing your ears. “Benny, watch where you’re fucking going, man!”
“Oh, shit,” the tall, lean man turns to you. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention..” he starts. You can feel the man fight for his life to stay on your eyes. He darts to your lips for a millisecond before he brings them back up. “Can I… Let me buy you a drink? To apologize?” He smirks like he just pulled the smoothest flirt attempt ever. Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but before you can say anything, the large hand from earlier is pulling the man—Benny, apparently—away from you and to the other end where their other friends are. “Pendejo,” he mutters under his breath towards his friend.
You stifle a giggle. The man, your savior, finally actually looks at you, and at first he was going to ask if you understood what he said, but the moment your eyes meet, it’s like all the airflow was vacuumed clean out of his lungs, leaving him mentally gasping like a fish out of water. Physically, though, he keeps it cool. Or, at least, tries to.
“Hi- uh, I’m- I’m Frankie- look, I’m real sorry about my friend back there, he can be real stupid sometimes,” he mutters, his rosy cheeks bright on display, no alcohol to blame it on.
As he rambles, only then are you able to get a good look at this man—at Frankie, he calls himself. A baseball cap sits on his head, hiding what you can make out as curly hair. The dim light of the bar ruins your view slightly, but you are both near the warm light that emanates from the side of the bar, so your view is not completely obstructed. You can see beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes with a pretty scruff that grows haphazardly across his cheeks and jaw, and above his lip, too.
“Don’t worry about it, Frankie,” you manage as you look up at him. He’s still standing. You’re sitting on an elevated bar seat, and you still have to crane your neck. Good lord, he’s tall. You introduce yourself with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You have to fight your body not to shudder at the warmth of his hand.
Little do you know, he’s also fighting the same battle as you.
“Can I get you a drink, Frankie?” you ask. Usually you’d never do this, but there is just something about him. You need to know more.
“Uh,” you see him flush, an internal battle going on in his brain. Is it the battle of the so-called bro-code where he can’t hit on you because his friend did or because he should be offering you a drink?
He looks back to his friend. Yup, the bro-code. You quirk your brow at him.
“Yeah, okay,” he says with a grin as he perches himself to the bar seat beside you. “I’ll have a beer,” he tells you.
“Coming right up,” you smirk, winking at him before you try and regain the bartender’s attention.
You text Leah a quick I’m sorry, to which she replies with the eyes emoji again along with a winky face. Of course she saw everything.
The bartender comes to you and apologizes for earlier with the other group and then apologizes again when she admits she completely forgot to come back to you. She tells you this round of beers for you and Frankie are on the house. You try to tip her, but she doesn’t accept.
Frankie is really nice. Really handsome…and sexy…but you try to ignore the heat tingling between your legs because of the fact that Frankie is really nice.
As your two beers listen in on your conversation, untouched and sweaty, you’ve come to learn a good amount about Frankie. Like the fact that he’s a bashful boy, but you can tell he has no problem getting what he wants when the confidence strikes him. You’ve been witness to it a few times tonight—a hand on your knee there, a tucking of your hair behind your ear here, a long glance at your lips as you lick the residual drip of your drink—and it does nothing to calm your core’s ache.
The one that really sent you over the edge though was when he made you laugh particularly hard, your reaction was to lean into him. He took the opportunity to grab onto your seat and pull you against him, his thick highs entrapping both of yours.
“Oh-!” you gasp involuntarily, your eyes immediately searching for his. His gaze is dark, and so is yours.
Although quite nervous, Frankie’s confidence has spiked being in your presence. His thumb and forefinger come up to your chin, steadying and making your heartbeat erratic all in one. He leans closer in, the tips of each of your noses a hair’s width away. “You’re intoxicating,” he whispers.
“I could say the same thing about you,” you whisper back, feeling lightheaded and not from the alcohol coursing through your veins. “Been dying for you to touch me since you pulled your friend away,” you admit.
You see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He looks past you, eyeing the single stall bathroom. You scanned the place earlier, you know where he’s looking. Tapping his thigh for him to look at you again, you give him a look of understanding before you break away from his grasp.
He faces the bar again, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He catches Santi and the Millers staring at him from the pool table they took over. Santi shoots Frankie a wink while Benny looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the curb. Frankie really couldn’t care less right now.
Satisfied with the little window of time he gave, he stands from his seat, taking one more swig of beer before he makes his way to you. He knocks on the door softly, and you open it right away, pulling him in and immediately shutting it again.
Like a calculated dance, his hand goes back to lock the door while your hand grasps onto the fabric of his shirt at his chest, pulling his body flush against yours. Your hands take their time in coasting the plain of his broad chest and shoulders. Your thighs clench at the sensation.
His lips meet yours for the first time tonight, and he can feel every nerve in his body spark with electricity. Your lingering taste of all the drinks you had this evening mixed with a flavor he thinks is distinctly you consumes each of his senses.
Oh, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you don’t even know it yet.
He walks forward, backing you into the bathroom sink.
You hop up on your own, your legs spreading without any forethought for his broad form. His hands coast the expanse of your body, settling at your ass on the counter as he pulls you tighter into his body, your center coming into contact with this hardness. He practically growls into your mouth at the heat he feels radiating from you.
“Fuck, querida,” he moans, his teeth chasing your bottom lip.
“Frankie,” you beg. For what, you’re not entirely sure.
“Can I taste you?” He breathes heavily against your lips, fingers twitching to take action.
Fuck. “Ye- yeah- yeah, okay,” you stutter, eyes wide. Getting eaten out probably has to be one of your favorite things in the whole world, yet, with your dating history, it’s a rare occurrence. Your last boyfriend was disgusted by it, and your last girlfriend ended up cheating on you. So. Your experience of receiving oral was rare, and God did you miss it.
Frankie mistakes your surprise as fear. “Are- are you sure? I don’t have to, not if you’re not comfortable,” he says sincerely. He starts to pull away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re quick to grab onto him.
“No, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I-” you laugh a little breathlessly before looking into his soft eyes again. “Yes, Frankie, please. Please, I want your mouth on me,” you say, tone a little needy on the backend. “You just took me by surprise, is all,” you whisper.
“Surprise?” He can’t stop his curiosity.
“I- I don’t know, guys don’t usually like-”
You don’t get to finish your statement before Frankie’s face turns angry. He places a heady kiss to your lips before he brings his mouth down your jaw, your neck. “So what you’re saying is,” he starts, his breath tickling your neck. If you weren’t propped up on the counter, you’d be on the floor with how weak your legs feel. Making his way down, he places a soft kiss in between your breasts. “This pretty little thing hasn’t been treated properly in a long, long time?” He asks as he kneels down, his eyes looking up and devouring you in your entirety.
“How do you even know she’s pretty?” You quip back, matching his energy.
“Oh, I know she’s fucking gorgeous based on the rest of you,” he purrs, fingers working your button and zipper. He hooks his fingers at the waist, and you lift your hips to help him.
“You flatter me,” you shakily say as you try to tease, your resolve starting to break.
Frankie smirks up at you before his entire demeanor changes upon seeding your exposed lower half. His face falls into astonishment, as if he just won the damn lottery, as if his last fucking meal was just placed in front of him. “What’d I say?” He mutters to himself. “Fucking gorgeous,” he answers his own question before he gives you no time to respond as he dives right in, the flat of his tongue licking a slow wide stripe up your glistening went cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” a loud moan leaves you, your head falling back as you relish in the immediate pleasure that shoots up your spine.
Frankie reluctantly breaks away to look at you, to check up on you, but your body is still shocked from the pleasure, and he grins, cheeks full of mischief. He hums to himself before he goes back in. “Fucking delicious, too.”
“Jesus, shit-” you murmur, trying to brace yourself for what you know is going to utterly ruin you.
He licks through your folds once more, slow and steady, calculated, measuring every small twitch and whimper that your body produces. His tongue moves up to your clit, circling around the area reveling in the way your breathing speeds up and your hips buck. Even with your movements chasing for more, he remains steadfast in his ministrations.
He continues his tease until he hears you huff. You’re getting impatient. “Baby, please,” you whine. “Please don’t tease,” you pout at him then, and whether it’s real or a ploy to get him to give in, how can Frankie say no to that face?
Without lifting from your cunt, Frankie switches from slow passes around your bud to attaching directly on it, suckling and flicking the sharp tip of his tongue across you. Your legs writhe under his expert touch, your hand flying to the baseball cap to his head and flinging it off to rake your fingers through his wild curls. He groans into you the second he feels your grip, his pace faltering for just a moment before he finds his way again.
Frankie detaches from you, dragging his tongue downward to your folds to lap up your slick. The squelch your pussy makes when his tongue makes contact is sinful. He lets his mouth wrap as much as he can around you, his tongue prodding at your entrance, testing your limits.
“Oh, Frankie, yes-” you lament, your hand pulling his face tight against your core as your hips force his pink muscle inside. His cock is definitely at full mast now, especially with how reactive you are for him. Your eyes are entirely white as you repeat his name like a prayer, your hips frantically meeting the thrusts of his tongue.
You grip tighter into his locks, angling his head slightly down, and fuckfuckfuck you squeal loudly, this angle causes his nose to nudge at your sensitive nerves perfectly with each push of his tongue inside of you.
“I’m c-close, Frankie- fuck- I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum- oh my God-” you practically scream, your body losing all strength as you fall back into the counter behind you, Frankie licking everything up while he tries to fuck you through your orgasm.
The vibrations of his moaning sends you into overdrive, and you’re so spaced out you don’t even realize Frankie’s been desperately humping nothing, bringing himself to an orgasm the same time as you. He lifts off from you completely, his breathing labored as his chin threatens to drip your arousal to the ground. Frankie’s fingers reach for his face, collecting up the residue only for him to bring it back up to his mouth. The sound of him sucking his fingers up like he just ate the sauciest of wings brings you back to reality, pulling your body up weakly as your eyes go wide when you realize what Frankie’s doing.
Your cheeks heat up, but your ability to tease is back. “That good, huh?”
“Finger lickin’, baby,” he says lazily.
He rises from his knees only for you to then notice the wet spot at his crotch. “Frankie-” you start.
“Yes, yes I did,” he finishes, knowing the question you were going to ask.
He bends down to pick up his hat, swiftly placing it back on his head while he grabs your shorts, putting them gently back in place.
“You okay?” He checks in.
You melt under his sweet attention. “Never better,” you beam.
You two stand there in each other’s presence before you finally pipe up. “So how do you wanna…” you trail off.
“You wanna head out first? I got a bit of a… mess to clean up anyway,” he says, gesturing to himself.
“Oh! Right, yeah. Okay,” you say awkwardly, as if his tongue wasn’t just inside of you. “I’ll see you out there,” you add as you turn around, opening the door just enough to slip out.
You stand there for a moment, giving yourself a second to register what the fuck just happened. You did not let a man you just met go down on you? At a bar, no less?!
You make your way to the bartender, needing an ice cold glass of water to cool you off. Your head is spinning, and it’s really not because of the alcohol anymore. But you blame the substance anyway.
Hearing the bathroom door creak, you turn around to see a blushing Frankie, his hat off his head and his hand shielding the wet patch between his legs. He sees you at the bar and he smiles, walking in your direction. However, before he can reach you, Linda magically appears in your face, drunk as shit and louder than you’ve ever experienced.
“There you are, silly!! Where’d you run off to?? Been looking for you, I swear it’s been like an hour!!!”
You look at Frankie over her shoulder, and he pauses in his tracks. You give him an apologetic smile. Before he can say it’s okay, the friends he was with finds him and drags him into a game of pool.
“Hey, sorry!” You scream over the music. “Just needed some time, it got a bit too loud in here,” you lie. You’re too overstimulated—in many ways as your clit throbs against the fabric of your wet panties—to handle more ridicule from these three. “I think I’m gonna head home now, though, I’m kind of tired,” you tell her. “Where’s Blake and Leah?”
She drags you back to your guys’ table, urging one more round of shots. You go with her to the bar to order the round, mouthing to the bartender to make yours water. She winks at you, and hands you your glass directly while Leah impressively holds the other three with a drunken ease.
When Frankie finally spots you, happy and laughing with your friends, he smiles to himself and decides not to interrupt your time. He can find you later.
Except, he doesn’t.
Monday, August 19th.
Sunday was a blur. It was spent downing more water to flush out your body while surfing every account on every social media platform you have for a Frankie in your area.
No luck. Of course.
Frankie’s Sunday was spent the exact same way, too, although he is much less tech savvy and his attempt only lasted an hour before he gave up and spent the rest of his day moping.
“¿Qué pasa, papi?” What’s wrong, daddy? Elena had asked him as she scarfed down her eggs.
“Estoy bien, mi amorcito,” I’m okay, my love, Frankie responded with a kiss on her head.
Elena didn’t bug further, but he knew she would soon.
Monday morning, Elena was way too eager for her new school, forcing her father up and making breakfast an entire hour before they actually needed to get up. Somehow, Elena even convinced Frankie to leave the house half an hour before they needed to leave, forcing them to wait in the empty parking lot until any sign of life emerged.
Elena buries her nose in a book, while Frankie sat there, watching the minutes tick by. As he stared at the building, red accents and Home of the Rebels painted in big white letters, he’s suddenly reminded of what Ms. Sabatino asked him.
He reaches over and grabs the handbook out of the glove compartment. He flips open to the first page to the table of contents, and the first section, written in italicized, bold letters catches his eye:
Ground Rules
He flips to the page.
He scans through each bullet point, each one feeling more and more like common sense, but with the way the principal described these parents, he realizes how necessary these so-called rules are.
His eyes scan the last bullet point, and he can’t help but bite back a laugh.
No parent-teacher relations. Parent will be kicked off the PTA. Teacher will be reprimanded. NO exceptions.
He flips through several more pages when Elena lets out a piercing shriek. “AHH! DADDY, DADDY, LET’S GO,” she’s jumping up and down as much as she can while being belted in her car seat. Frankie looks up to see a bustling crowd of children and their guardian. He sees Ms. Sabatino in the mix.
“Alright, alright, mi vida (my life), I’m coming,” Frankie soothes, giving a softer tone of voice that hopefully she mirrors. He gets out of the car and opens the passenger door behind him, unbuckling Elena and setting her down to the ground, grabbing her backpack and shuffling it onto her back.
Ms. Sabatino catches sight of Frankie and Elena, and excitedly makes her way over. She bends down to Elena’s level. “Good morning!! You must be Elena Morales, yes?”
“YES-” she stops herself and clears her throat. “Yes! Yes, that’s me!” She says, a decibel calmer.
Ms. Sabatino warms at her eagerness. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Elena, I’m Ms. Sabatino, the principal here!” She holds out her hand for Elena to shake. She takes it eagerly.
“It’s very nice to meet you!” Elena emphasizes, putting on her best charm. Frankie chuckles.
Ms. Sabatino rises. “Mr. Morales, it’s great to see you again!” He nods his head with a smile and a soft likewise. “May I walk you both to her class? I’d like to introduce you to her new teacher,” she directs the question towards both of them.
Elena looks elated. She turns around to look her father in the eye, Frankie’s very own signature puppy dog eyes reflected back to him. He doesn’t even need to hear the question to know what her answer would be if she pulls this card. “Oh, papi, please will you come?”
“Of course, baby,” he says, caressing the apple of her cheeks before she cheers in victory.
“Great!” Ms. Sabatino says with a clap to her hands. “Right this way.”
On the way to Elena’s new class, Ms. Sabatino really praises her new teacher. Apparently, she’s the best of the best. One of their newest hires, but she’s practically a veteran when it comes to teaching prodigal children. She’s a powerhouse, Ms. Sabatino calls her. He gets the feeling that the teacher doesn’t really like that label much.
When Ms. Sabatino opens the door to his classroom, the teacher is immediately there to introduce herself and welcome in little Elena.
Frankie really doesn’t know what happens next besides the fact that his heart thoroughly stops and Elena’s voice is a muffled daddy, what’s wrong? throughout his panicked mind.
What’s wrong? He thinks.
What’s wrong is that Elena’s new teacher is you.
And he is absolutely, wholeheartedly, positively screwed.
Fuck.
I hope you liked the first chapter of my new series, New Beginnings!🥹🥹 I poured everything I have into this story, and I’ve been so eager to share it with the rest of you. I hope you are able to love it as much as I do.
Follow & turn on notifs for @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to know exactly when a new chapter comes out!🫶
Comments/reblogs or any kind of feedback to let me know what you think is my favorite part about putting out a story!! Please let me know your thoughts!!! I love you all so much, and thank you for the endless support you all show me. I wouldn’t be here without you.
Floral dividers on top & bottom courtesy of @saradika-graphics <3 section dividers in middle of fic made by me!
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🎙️ star-crossed lovers 【 薄幸な恋人 】 ⛦
summ✩ry While collabing with your girl group and Enhypen for a special stage, forbidden feelings spark between you and the main dancer upon dorming together
p✩iring idol!niki x popstar!reader ✩ requested ✩
-> PART 2 HERE
genre band au, fluff, secret romance cw swearing, mild bullying, the word ‘sexy’ like once, kissing, girl drama, reader is younger than Niki wc 4.4k
“Ugh,” Serenity groaned as the hairstylist applied yet another thick layer of chocolate brown hair dye to her scalp.
“This gig better bring in some serious bank, because never in my life would I willingly collab with those overrated wannabes,” she exclaimed, taking a frustrated sip from her vanilla latte.
“Hey, people used to call us wannabe's, too, you know,” Haerin said quietly as she tucked her hands under the UV light.
“Yeah, you should be more mature about this, Serenity... like I always say, professionalism triumphs pride," you added, only half-engaged in the conversation as a certain online article caught your attention.
As the band leader, you were always in charge of everything, so Serenity and Haerin were used to you talking to them this way...
“I’m just glad that we're getting exposure,” Haerin smiled, thinking of the countless nights you and your group spent practicing routines and writing songs for auditions, "it's not often that artists like us get opportunity's to perform internationally."
“For real,” Serenity cheered, “Riot Grrlz for the win!”
The three of you put your hands out to make a circle, “Riot Grrlz for life,” Haerin exclaimed, forgetting that her nails hadn't fully dried yet.
"Whoops," she giggled, just as Jade, the oldest of your group, made her way from the bathroom.
“What took you so long in there?” Serenity asked cheekily, “I thought we were gonna have to call the fire department.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” Jade returned, taking a seat beside Haerin so she could get her nails done, too.
“You were talking to the enemy, weren’t you,” Serenity accused.
“No, Ren, I didn’t go behind your back and sell my soul to the devil for fame.”
“Not that enemy,” Serenity grinned, “I'm talking about Mr. Six Foot Moon Eyes.”
“Oooooo,” Haerin amused, pulling your attention away from your phone.
“Ugh, let it up guys. My crush on Sunghoon is long gone, especially now that we’re gonna be working together. Besides, I would never act so recklessly over romance.”
“Who said anything about reckless romance,” you teased, unintentionally giving Jade a full view of the article your were reading on your phone.
"Nobody,” she began, “but I’m surprised you even heard that over all your internet-stalking.”
You were scrolling through a K-Pop news feed when you came across a post.
It was titled: "Enhypen Rumored By Netizens To Be Collabing With THIS Rookie Western Girl Group."
"Shush," you whisper-yelled at Jade, "unless you’re trying to get our record deals pulled!"
Just last week, your management team made you and your group sign a contract of secrecy, swearing silence regarding unpublicized business projects and associations: this included your upcoming collab with Enhypen that Jade nearly just spoiled.
Although, in all honesty, the blog's use of the word "rookie" bothered you more than potentially breaking any contract rules.
"Relax, boss, it's practically a ghost town in here," Jade defended, drawing your attention to the near vacant salon space.
Ding.
It was an email from your manager.
He wanted to inform you all that your chauffeur would be ready around 2:45am to bring you guys to the airport.
"Jeez," you mumbled to yourself, "looks like I'm not getting much sleep tonight."
“Shit,” Serenity whined, “I haven’t even made enough time to brush up on my Korean yet!”
“Luckily me and Haerin here are bilingual baddies,” Jade giggled, giving the cat-eyed girl a fist punch.
“Ahh, watch my nails!!”
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
Your company's fashion crew was experimenting with different concepts, assigning each of your members an individual color to permanently represent: Serenity was teal, Jade was purple, Haerin was white, and you were pink.
Some time passed, an you and your group arrived in South Korea around 3:00pm.
Thanks to the fashion tech your management team hired, it wasn't obvious that you and the girls had been in and out of sleep for the past 13 hours.
You couldn't help but stalk the headlines about your group, as rumors about your Enhypen collab continued to spread like wildfire.
So much for swearing silence and secrecy, you thought to yourself.
South Korean pop media had already seemed to build a vendetta against your group, given that you were young, talented, and most importantly, from the states. The xenophobia of most K-netizens was disheartening at best, but you understood that hate was a part of success.
Besides, you were living the dream of many engenes at the moment — most of them would sell their siblings to be in your shoes right now.
“Ahh! This is unreal!!” Jade cheered excitedly in the back of the limousine. You guys had just left the airport around thirty minutes ago, after getting past the pesky crowd of paparazzi.
“I know right? Korean McNuggets slap way harder than back home,” Haerin added while munching on the salty snack.
“Don't get too comfy, Rinnie. We will leave you here,” Serenity joked.
You hadn't even realized the radio was playing until a certain guitar riff blared from the ceiling speakers.
"Oh hell no," Serenity immediately cringed, covering her ears as you, Jade, and Haerin exchanged knowing look, bringing imaginary microphones to your mouths in unison.
It was Enhypen's song Blessed-Cursed, Jay’s voice singing "We go!" over the radio.
"Go, go, go, go, go, go, GO!!" The three of you cheered, obnoxiously dancing to the choreo while sitting.
Memories of your group (minus Serenity) binge watching music videos at sleepovers resurfaced in your mind.
Usually, you'd only listen to throwback hits like Britney Spears or Rihanna, mostly because Rnb and Pop beats inspired your own art.
Still and all, Blessed-Cursed was one video that the three of you fell in love, way before your upcoming collab was even a thought.
"Don't get mad when I start recording you clowns," Serenity threatened, thoroughly amused by your behavior.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
Upon arriving outside the Hybe Building, a trio of body guards guided you and your girls to an office room where the seven boys stood awkwardly around a large table.
Part of you still couldn't believe this was all actually happening, despite it being right in front of you.
“Hello! We are Enhypen,” Jungwon bowed as the guards exited the room.
Jay visibly cringed at his leaders words, “I promise we were told to introduce ourselves like that. Please don’t judge us.”
“Well, uhm… H-hi,” you stuttered, feeling a bit nervous, “We are the Riot Grrlz. It’s a pleasure being able to work with you all.”
Niki, the tallest of the boys, caught your attention immediately as he greeted you with a peace sign.
Was he always this cute?, you thought to yourself.
That’s when a lady dressed in all black barged through the glass door on the other side of the room.
“Sorry to interrupt… well, not really. Me and the Enhypen boys are already well familiar with each other, but you ladies can call me Kim,” she greeted, waltzing into the office as if owning the place.
She was a fast talker, so you knew you’d have to pay attention to what she was saying or else you might miss something.
“I hope you made use of each others time and gathered everyone’s names? Phone numbers?”
”We were just in the middle of that before you came in, Miss Kim,” Sunoo clarified.
“Very well then. You have a total of 15 minutes to lock in dorming arrangements. As you’ll see on this clipboard here…”
She paused mid-sentence, holding the clipboard dumbly.
“God, can one of you take this thing already?”
“Oh- sorry,” Heeseung chuckled nervously, taking the clipboard from the fiery woman.
“As I was saying, there are four rooms for the eleven of you to somehow divide. And no, just because you’re all hormonal young adults, none of you get a free pass to break the no-dating rule.”
“No-dating rule? What is this, a detention center,” Serenity mumbled.
Kim cleared her throat, feigning a smile as she glared at Serenity with narrowed eyes, “This is a place of utmost professionalism, Princess Land of The Free. If you have a problem adhering to the rules in place here, you are more than welcome to leave.”
“A-and after that? The fifteen minutes, I mean,” Haerin blurted out shyly.
“All of you will meet back in the main lobby, where you will be guided accordingly.”
Miss Kim turned of her black boots, beelining to the door with powerful strides, “The timer starts now” she called out, closing the door behind her.
And with that began your group discussion of rooming arrangements. Unfortunately, though, things didn’t get off to a particularly nice start.
“Are you effing kidding me?” Serenity asked rudely, screwing her eyes toward a now annoyed Heeseung, “Why can't we just get separate hotel rooms?!?”
“Look, there's no perfect way to go about this," he sighed, crossing out the roommate pairs you all had just agreed on. "So you either humble yourself, or sleep in the bathtub for the next two weeks."
“Really guys, the math is simple,” Jake started, “There’s eleven of us and only four rooms to choose from. Nine of us will be divided in groups of three, and the remaining two will share the last room together.”
"Cool! Me, ____, and Jade can share the first room together!" Haerin obliged with a smile.
"Perfect, and where will I go?" Serenity questioned, mocking Haerin's excitement.
"The bathtub, right?" Jay teased, provoking Serenity to argue with him.
Meanwhile, you attempted to make peace with everyone willing to listen, “Guys, I agree with Jake. We need to make a decision quickly before Kim gets back.”
“Right. Everyone in favor of room number 1, provide a show of hands,” Heeseung said, Jay and Jake raising their hands with him.
"And for room 2?" Jungwon initiated, raising his hand with Jade and Haerin.
A pout formed on Jade's face once she realized that Sunghoon wasn't in the same pair as her.
"3's the magic number, I guess…" Sunghoon offered, Serenity raising her hand with him.
Now it was just you, Sunoo, and Niki remaining.
"I'll group with 3, too. All of our name's start with "S," so it just makes sense that way," Sunoo joined shyly.
"Welp, now that leaves the final room for me and..."
"Me..." Niki spoke with a deep voice, flashing a mysterious half-smile-half-smirk that you knew would haunt your mind later.
"Me and me... the odd one's out! Wow, that's actually perfect!" Jake cheered just as the lady in black strut back in.
“Times up,” she said, taking the clipboard from Heeseung to analyze the finalized dorming plans.
“Hmm, interesting,” she mumbled to herself, tucking the clipboard under her arm.
You all made your way down to the main lobby, just as Kim instructed.
One of the security guards mentioned that Hybe suggested a dinner outing for your group and Enhypen as a way to end the night before you started work the next day… or maybe it was mostly a way to officially confirm the rumors about your collab.
Upon arriving, everyone sat at separate tables, divided according to who they agreed to room with.
Although Niki seemed quiet at first, you and him were giggling the babies the entire time you ate.
“Poor Jungwon. He’s gonna be sandwiched between Jade and Haerin for the next two weeks, his biggest fans,” you joked.
“Nah, Sunghoon and Sunoo have it way worse. Serenity’s attitude is enough to send me running,” Niki chuckled, shaking his head.
"Speaking of running, how come you were appointed leader over your group even though you’re a baby," Niki teased.
"Not you baby-shaming me! I was born in 06', you've barely got any experience on me."
"I've had an entire YEAR to catch up on things, for your information."
"Things like what? Potty training?"
"Pfft, probably..." he replied, going quiet for a second before continuing, "If you ever need help, though, I don’t mind practicing with you after hours.”
"Sounds like fun, but that might be past my bedtime," you pouted playfully, taking one of the fries off his plate.
"Hmm."
"Hmm what?"
"Nothing, I just didn't take you as the type to follow rules," he smirked, taking a sip from his soda.
"I guess it depends on what rules we're breaking. Whether it’s worth it or not."
"So rule breaking is a “we” thing now, huh?"
"Probably..." you smiled, the cool breeze of the foreign air sending shivers down your spine.
Or maybe that had something to do with Niki?
Before you knew it, it was time to head back to your dorms for the night. You knew rehearsals in South Korea were taken a lot more seriously than where you're from, so you needed all the rest you could get.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
Day one was easy.
The main focus was recording voice samples in the studio, experimenting with different harmonies, and training your vocals as needed.
Now you were on day two, which started with a quick vocal session, leading into the dance rehearsal warm-up right after.
After stretching, the studio was split in half, girls taking the left side and boys taking the right.
You all wore numbers on your back. This way, there wouldn’t be any confusion when any of your were being called.
Niki was assigned number eleven, and you had number one.
According to Jake, the numbers were disseminated based on skill level, and out of the 11 of you, that made Niki first place… and you the very last.
As rehearsals went on, your placement was proving to be true.
You were struggling to keep up with the choreography and it was really starting to bug you.
"Are you feeling okay," Niki asked as you sighed for what sounded like the hundredth time.
"Yea, I'm fine, it’s just this footwork is a bit tricky," you admitted.
“Aww, the smallest number for our most inexperienced contributor,” Serenity teased, making a pass at both your age and inability to get this one move right.
“I may be the youngest out of all of us, but I was appointed head over our group for a reason,” you snapped back.
“Yea… and it still shocks me to this day,” she mumbled, Jade and Haerin pausing to listen now.
You scoffed at her ignorance, putting your hands on your hips, “As if you could lead the Riot Grrlz any better.”
Serenity gave you a look that made you wanna drop here right there in front of everyone.
You never understood why she always had an attitude over the simplest things, and given the current work setting, your tolerance for her bull crap was at an all time low.
“Right, the Riot Grrlz. “Rookie Western Girl Group,” huh? And you expect me to be proud of that?”
“With pride of lionesses, of course,” Jade pitched in, leaning down to fasten her shoelaces.
“We should really keep working on our routine, guys,” Haerin mumbled quietly, causing the raging brunette diva to roll her eyes.
Meanwhile, the boys seemed to be getting along rather well with their part of the routine, completely blind to the chaos brewing at their left.
And by the boys, I mean all of them except Niki and Jake, who were both too distracted by your girl drama.
Way to go embarrassing myself again, you thought to yourself
“You’re new to this sort of training, aren’t you,” Jake asked curiously.
“What, did my shitty dance moves give it away?”
You know it wasn’t Jake’s fault, but you were started to doubt your abilities as an artist and performer.
Even Serenity felt as though you were letting your group down.
“You’re not a shitty dancer, ____,” Niki answered, walking closer to you.
“Yeah, Niki’s right. You shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself,” Jake added.
“Exactly! Just focus on your strengths,” Serenity pitched in, “your vocals, for example. You might ruin the dance routine, but at least you’ll save all the high notes with Heeseung.”
It was clear that you and Niki were equally fed up with Serenity’s toxicity.
“Okay, can everybody clear out for a moment," Niki clapped, causing everyone to back up against the walls almost instantly.
He pulled you by the hand, turning you to face him as he called out to Sunoo, "Put on a random dance track, real quick. Something upbeat, please."
“Gotcha!”
Turning back to you, Niki took your chin in his hand, making your eyes meet his. “Just follow my lead, okay?” He whispered, taking off the bracelet he wore before sliding it on your wrist, “Do you trust me?”
“Niki...” you started, not sure of what he was trying to do.
“I need you to feel the music, ____. Let it control you," he said, stepping away as a short remix of "Buttons" by the Pussycat Dolls blared from the radio.
You could hear an amused Serenity and Sunghoon chuckle a bit at Sunoo’s choice of song, but Niki remained serious.
His gaze met the ground before he started freestyling to the song, letting his mind and body get used to the rhythm as he flowed to the beat. You stood awkwardly beside him, not feeling up to dance at the moment.
He caught sight of you standing and nudged your shoulder, "Loosen up, ____," he smiled, finally starting to feel the song himself.
You started by mirroring his movements at first, adding a few steps to make it fit your own style more.
"See? Now you're getting it," he encouraged again, pulling you toward him so you could dance together.
Your friends and the boys cheered you and Niki on while you two danced as if choreographed.
The track ended with Niki's had on your waist, both of your chests heaving from all the action.
Haerin's jaw dropped as she struggled to find the right words or any words to say, “That was…”
“Sexy!” Heeseung smirked while playfully fanning himself, making Niki turn his face in embarrassment.
You could feel your own face getting hot now, too, especially with everyone staring.
"Relax, Rinnie, you're acting like you've never seen a guy dance with a girl before," Jade chuckled.
"N-not... n-never like THAT,” Haerin said with a shocked face, “____, you're amazing!"
"Thanks," you smiled shyly, eyes falling back the bracelet Niki put around your wrist.
"Keep it... it's a good luck charm," he replied softly.
"Alright, alright. You guys can loosen up each other's buttons on your own time," Serenity snapped, interrupting everyone's gawking.
"Right... On second thought, it’s time for our break," Jay called, handing you and Niki a rag for your sweat.
"Great job, you guys. See you in 20," Jungwon added.
"Come on, girls," you chirped, picking up your gym bag as you took a sip from your water jug, heading towards the studio exit.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
The rest of the day continued according to your work schedule. One vocal practice followed the other as the initially difficult routine felt more natural with each retake.
You also made a stop by Hybe's fashion team, getting your measurements taken so they could design your outfit for the upcoming stage.
Although this was a work trip, you were having a blast in Korea so far. You liked getting to work with the new people and trying different foods. You especially liked being roomies with Niki.
He was super talented, chill, yet flirty at the same time.
No wonder his fans go so crazy over him, you thought to yourself.
“Hey, ____,” Niki called out, jogging to catch up as you made your way from the dance studio after going back to get the pair of headphones you forgot near the water cooler.
“I wanna show you something…,” he announced, “Well, a thing I like to do.”
“Mhm, and what’s that?” You asked playfully.
He chuckled, “Just a thing that I can’t get away with while in idol mode. My secret escape... Are you interested?”
You meditated on his words before answering, considering the early curfew outlined by both your managers, and how it was already 8:00 at night, “It’s getting pretty late, you know… Is it gonna take long?”
He giggled again, this time leaning into you. “Only if you’re indecisive.”
The sounds of your sneakers tapping against the shiny tiled floors bounced off the hallway walls.
Like you said, girls would sell souls to be in your shoes right now: there’s no way you were gonna pass up on a chance to hang out with Niki…
A chance to explore this reckless romance.
“Ok, let’s go, but we have to be back by midnight,” you agreed.
“Ok, Cinderella. We’re not too far from where I wanna show you,” he beamed, fighting the urge to hold your hand as you followed him out of the Hybe Building, clashing into the night.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
The place was reminiscent of a skate park, graffitied ramp-like walls cupping you and Niki in the surface of the arena.
There were a few other people present, but they seemed more wrapped up in their own little worlds to even look your way…
The moon shined behind the thin clouds of the sky, basking you and Niki’s skin with an ethereal glow.
“This is it!” He gestured with open arms, “my secret escape.”
You tucked your hands in your pockets as it was a bit cold out, “A shared secret place?” You corrected, pointing out the tiny groups of people hanging around.
Niki pushed the hoodie from over his head, revealing his two-toned mane, “I guess you could say that… they’re all idols, here. Just like me. They get why I do this.”
“Why you do what,” you inquired, stepping over a few random rocks that decorated the path.
“Why I dance,” he answered almost immediately, looking you in the eyes, “for myself.”
He took a few steps away from you, swaying to the music that rippled from one of the mystery people’s carry-radios.
Like earlier, you mirrored his moves at first, adding your own adjustments based on intuition.
Feeling.
You had so many more questions to ask, but in this moment, you focused on Niki and the way he moved.
The small groups of people developed into a crowd within a matter of seconds, joining you and Niki along with the music.
Although everyone was doing their own thing, in a strange way if felt harmonious.
Some people danced calmly, others were more wild. Either way, you were starting to understand what Niki meant.
Being able to express yourself away from prying eyes, scornful comments, flashing cameras, or a number 1 sign on your back was invigorating.
The music was still going when Niki grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side, a soft look taking over his features.
“Kiss me,” he whispered, staring into your eyes.
“W-what?”
“I just need to know that what I’m feeling right now is real.”
You took his face in your hands, trying to make yourself feel more in control of the situation, “Niki, I don’t think we should do this. Your manager outlined pretty strict rules.”
He paused before responding, “Remember what you said at the restaurant the first day we met?”
His grip on your hands remained delicate despite how strongly he felt for you.
“About us breaking rules together… only if it’s worth it.”
“Exactly,” he smiled, leaning in, “I knew they didn’t call you a riot girl for nothing.”
His lips connecting with yours like a puzzle piece, both your hearts fluttering as if they’d grown butterfly wings.
You felt like your world was spinning at twice its original speed, but at the same time, the moment felt still.
Niki tilted his head, deepening the kiss as he braced a hand at your waist, pulling you closer before finally letting go.
“I like you, ____. Like, a lot,” he confessed, taking in the dreamy expression displayed on your face.
Your mind went blank.
“Say something? Please,” he urged, taking your hands in his.
A smile wavered over your features as you kissed him back on the lips, feeling as though you both stopped breathing for a moment.
“I like you too, Niki. But isn’t this pretty risky?”
“You said so yourself, risks don’t count if it’s worth it,” he nearly whispered.
“Well,” you began, still holding onto him, “if we’re gonna do this, it has to stay between us… no one else can find out.”
And just like that, you were now secretly dating your roommate / coworker / Enhypen’s main dancer and maknae / one of K-pop’s most sought after It-Boy’s, all in a three days.
Great.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
You and Niki made it back to you dorm rooms undetected. It seemed like everyone else was either too tired or too busy to notice that you two were out for so long.
Unlocking the door to as quietly as possible, you and Niki took light steps, trying not to disturb anyone or draw attention to yourselves.
Once the door was closed, you both bust out in a fit of laughter for reasons you didn’t understand nor cared to understand.
You didn’t need a reason laugh when Niki was around… it’s kind of just something that started to happen over the last couple days.
“What’s your secret to performing so well?” You asked him, both laying face-up on the lower bunk bed together.
“Hmm, I feel like nervousness is a strength. It pushes you to go forward in a sense…”
“Yeah… I get that. Sometimes, I feel like being calm is dangerous. It puts you in a safe space, when performing should be all about taking chances.”
“Right,” he agreed, resting a hand over his stomach, “Speaking of chances, they’re precious, you know? I never just assume I’ll get another opportunity to dance.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Like…” he sighed, trying to find the right words, “Every time I get on stage… in front of those lights… in front of my fans… I perform-”
“As if it’s your last…” you answered for him.
“Yeah, that,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “You know, it’s really nice talking to someone who gets me… the dancer part of me.”
“Of course, it’s really nice talking to you, too, Niki,” you smiled softly.
Breaking the calmness of the moment, he sat up in his elbows, meeting your face.
“Top or bottom?” He asked, referring to where you wanted to sleep for the night.
You crawled over his body, climbing into the upper bunk of the bed and laying down to finally rest.
“Good night, number 11,” you teased, snuggling into the mattress.
“Rest well, number 1. Big day tomorrow.”
🎙️ For my baby, @microwvdstrawb3rri3s, I hope it was worth the wait ~ And yes, before you ask, there will be a second part 💕
⛦ Additional tags for my fellow Niki enthusiasts: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @nikisblkgf @yourmomscuntis2tighy @nikimeows @kimjiho1 @nikipedia07 @nishimuradaniel
🎙️ Feel free to check out more fun reads on the pinned post at my home page ~
@ashgonedash, I still felt bad about forgetting to tag you earlier 👑 so here you go, my love :3
Update: THANK YOU ALL SM FOR 400 NOTES!!
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