i love your writing so much!! can i please request a fic where ni-ki and reader (both idols and main dancers) have a special stage together for one of the end of year festivals, but during practices there’s always a lot of tension because they’re both genius dancers with their own styles/diff opinions (read: stubborn). dominant ni-ki! you can decide whether it’s angst/fluff or angst/smut hehe

The dance studio was silent—except for the sound of your ragged breaths and Ni-ki’s sharp exhale.

For the past hour, you had been at each other’s throats, arguing over footwork, musicality, who was right and who was wrong.

Both of you were geniuses. Both of you were stubborn as hell.

Which meant that neither of you wanted to back down.

Ni-ki stepped closer, eyes dark, challenging. "You’re offbeat."

You scoffed, glaring up at him. "No, I’m not. You’re just too slow."

His jaw ticked. "You wanna say that again?"

Your heart pounded, but you held your ground. "You heard me."

The tension between you two had been building for weeks. Every practice was a battle of egos, of dominance, of unspoken heat.

And now?

Ni-ki was done playing.

"Alright," he murmured, voice dropping an octave. "Let’s settle this another way, then."

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror.

Your breath hitched.

"Wh—what are you doing?"

Ni-ki leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "You’ve been testing me this whole time," he murmured, his fingers trailing down your arm, gripping your waist. "I think it’s time I test you back."

Your stomach tightened.

His hand slipped under your shirt, his palm warm, teasing.

"Let’s see if you can keep up now, princess."

The mirror was cold against your back, a sharp contrast to the heat rolling off Ni-ki’s body as he pressed in closer.

"You love pissing me off, don’t you?" he murmured, his lips grazing your ear, his voice low and dangerous.

Your heart pounded.

"You’re the one who started it," you shot back, but your voice wasn’t as sharp as before. Not when his hands were trailing down your waist, gripping your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver.

Ni-ki chuckled. "No, princess," he whispered. "You started this the moment you thought you could challenge me."

Then—he grabbed your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

His eyes were dark, intense, filled with something that made your stomach tighten.

"You wanna keep running that mouth?" he asked. "Or should I give you something better to do with it?"

The mirror behind you was cold, but it was nothing compared to the fire spreading through your body as Ni-ki pressed you against it, his tall frame towering over yours. His grip on your waist was firm, fingers digging in like he was staking his claim.

"You love running your mouth, don’t you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

Your stomach tightened, but you refused to let him have the last word. "Maybe I do. Got a problem with that?"

Ni-ki chuckled—a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Yeah, princess, I do." His knee nudged between your thighs, spreading them apart effortlessly. "But I know exactly how to shut you up."

Before you could fire back, his lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath, stealing your thoughts. The kiss was anything but gentle. It was dominant, commanding—just like him. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, teasing, tasting, taking.

You barely noticed when his hands slid under your shirt, palming your bare skin, making you shudder at the contrast of warmth and roughness. He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, "You think you’re in control here? Cute."

A gasp left you when he spun you around, pressing your front against the mirror. Your hands braced against the glass as his body caged you in, his chest flush against your back.

"Look at you," he muttered, his reflection meeting your dazed eyes. His fingers trailed down your spine, slow and deliberate, sending a wave of anticipation straight to your core. "So damn stubborn. So desperate to prove yourself. But right now? Right now, you’re mine."

The words sent a pulse of heat straight between your legs.

Ni-ki wasted no time. His hands slid lower, dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. "Already soaked?" he smirked against your neck. "Guess you like being put in your place after all."

Your breath hitched as his fingers slipped between your folds, teasing, circling but never quite giving you what you needed. "Ni-ki—"

"What was that?" He tightened his grip on your hip. "Not so mouthy now, huh?" His fingers sank into you with ease, stretching, curling, working you open at an unforgiving pace.

Your knees buckled, a moan tearing from your throat. But Ni-ki didn’t let you fall—he held you in place, forcing you to watch yourself fall apart in the mirror.

"You’re gonna watch yourself get ruined," he ordered, thrusting his fingers deeper, faster. "Wanna see exactly how fucking good I make you feel."

Your hands clawed at the mirror, desperate to hold onto something as pleasure crashed over you. "Ni-ki—please—"

He chuckled, pulling his fingers out just as you were about to break. You whined at the loss, but before you could complain, he was undoing his belt, the soft clink sending a fresh wave of heat through you.

"You’re gonna take everything I give you," he murmured, his voice dark with promise. "And you’re gonna thank me for it."

Then, without warning, he thrust inside you, stretching you wide, filling you to the brim. The shock of it had your head snapping back against his shoulder, your mouth parting in a silent scream.

"That’s it," Ni-ki groaned, his grip on your hips bruising, grounding you as he set a ruthless pace. "So tight, so fucking perfect."

The sounds filling the practice room were obscene—the slap of skin, the ragged breaths, the sharp cries spilling from your lips every time he drove deeper.

Ni-ki watched you through the mirror, his gaze dark and possessive. "Look at you," he murmured. "Getting fucked against the same mirror you were talking shit in front of. How does it feel, princess? Still think you can challenge me?"

You barely registered his words, too lost in the white-hot pleasure flooding every inch of your body.

Ni-ki wasn’t just fucking you—he was wrecking you.

His fingers found your clit, rubbing in tight, punishing circles. "Come for me, baby," he whispered, lips grazing your ear. "Come while you watch yourself fall apart."

The coil in your stomach snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves, leaving you trembling, gasping his name.

Ni-ki groaned, thrusting a few more times before burying himself deep, spilling inside you with a low curse.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy rise and fall of your breaths.

Then, Ni-ki turned you around, cupping your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "You’re mine now. Understood?"

Your lips parted, still hazy, still breathless. "Y-yeah."

His thumb brushed over your swollen lips before he smirked. "Good. Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess we made before someone walks in."

Your stomach flipped. This was far from over.

The lights were blinding, the cheers deafening, but nothing drowned out the way Ni-ki’s hand slid over your waist as you both walked off stage.

The performance had been electrifying, the tension still crackling between you two, but Ni-ki? He looked way too smug.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Still feeling me, princess? Bet you are."

Your stomach flipped, your body instantly remembering exactly what he did to you in that practice room.

"Shut up," you hissed, trying to put space between you, but Ni-ki only smirked, fingers pressing lightly at your hip.

"You were shaking up there," he mused, voice dripping with amusement. "What was it, hmm? Nerves? Or was it because you could still feel me inside you?"

Your breath hitched, and he caught it—of course, he did.

Ni-ki chuckled, a dark, knowing sound that made your knees weak all over again. "Thought so."

The rest of the crew was still around, cameras still rolling, and yet he had the audacity to trace his fingers along your spine, barely touching, but enough to make you shiver.

"You look so pretty like this," he murmured, his lips just barely brushing your jaw as he moved past you. "All breathless, all worked up… and I haven't even touched you properly yet."

Your fingers curled into fists. "Ni-ki—"

He turned his head slightly, eyes dark with something unreadable. "Careful, princess. Keep tempting me, and I'll have to remind you who you belong to."

Then, with a final smirk, he walked off—leaving you standing there, hot, flustered, and painfully aware that this wasn’t over.