(UPDATED ON 28, 2026)

ni-ki liked to act like he was immune to softness.

like cuddling was beneath him. like being babied was some kind of crime against his reputation. he’d roll his eyes, scoff, pull away just enough to make a point.

“i’m not a kid,” he’d say, all cool and unbothered.

but you knew better.

because right now, he was literally glued to you.

he was stretched out on top of you, head tucked into the curve of your neck like it belonged there, arms loosely wrapped around your waist. his hair tickled your skin every time he shifted, soft strands brushing your collarbone while his breathing slowed, steady and warm.

so much for “i don’t like cuddling.”

your fingers moved through his hair without thinking, gentle, slow, the kind of touch that melts walls without asking permission. he didn’t say anything. didn’t protest. just sank a little deeper against you, like gravity had decided you were his final destination.

yeah. exactly.

you bit back a smile, lowering your voice just enough so it felt like a secret.

“who’s my baby?”

you almost laughed saying it, because if he were fully awake, fully aware, he’d absolutely deny everything.

for a second, there was silence.

then, against your neck, muffled and soft, barely above a whisper...

“me.”

you froze.

not because you didn’t hear it, but because you definitely did.

your hand paused in his hair for half a second before continuing, slower this time, like you didn’t want to scare the moment away.

“what was that?” you teased, quieter now.

he shifted slightly, pressing his face further into your neck, hiding like that would erase what he just said.

“nothing,” he mumbled, voice still thick, like he was half asleep and not even trying to defend himself properly.

you smiled, unable to help it.

“thought i heard something,” you whispered, fingers tracing small patterns along his scalp.

he huffed softly, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“don’t start,” he warned, but there was no bite to it. none at all.

you leaned your cheek against his head, breathing him in, warm and familiar.

“relax,” you murmured. “i won’t tell anyone.”

“you better not,” he said, but his grip on you tightened just a little, like he was holding onto something he didn’t want to lose.

you kept playing with his hair, slow and steady, and after a moment, he went quiet again. not distant quiet. comfortable quiet.

the kind that only shows up when someone feels safe enough to drop the act.

his breathing evened out, his body going heavier against yours, completely relaxed now.

and you just stayed there, holding him, smiling to yourself.

because for someone who “hated” being babied, he really did fit perfectly right there.