It started off stupid. Like—really fucking stupid. One comment. One shove. A teasing remark that turned into you pushing him, and him pushing back a little harder just to get a reaction. And yeah—after that? It escalated way too fast.

Now you were both on the bed. Messing around. Playfighting like idiots.

“...You started it,” he shot back, breath uneven from laughing, dodging your hands easily like it was nothing.

Pillows got pushed aside, blankets twisted up under you, the mattress dipping and shifting with every movement.

You tried to push him away—keyword: tried—but Niki? Yeah. No chance. He was way too fucking strong for that.

Years of dancing, training, boxing—whatever the hell he did, it showed. Every time you tried to get the upper hand, he just laughed it off, catching your wrists, shifting his weight, moving like he already knew exactly what you were gonna do next.

“...You’re so weak,” he teased under his breath, a grin flashing for a second as he dodged another attempt from you to push him off. And of course he had the upper hand. He always did. Bigger. Stronger. Faster. Unfair as hell.

It didn’t take long. One wrong move from you—one second where your balance slipped—and he took it. Immediately. His hand caught your waist, grip firm, and in one smooth motion—he flipped the position.

The mattress dipped under both your weights as you landed on your back, breath knocked out just slightly—but not enough to actually matter. Because now? He was on top. Pinning you down. Or at least—that’s what it looked like.

His body settled over yours, legs sliding between yours naturally, caging you in completely. His height alone made it impossible to ignore how much bigger he was like this—how easily he could’ve actually held you down if he wanted to.

But he didn’t. That was the thing.

His hands didn’t grab your wrists. Didn’t pin you. Instead—he just… dropped.

His weight shifted forward, chest lowering as he leaned down—and then his chin rested right below your chest, against your upper stomach. Soft. Unexpected.

For a second, he just stayed there. Breathing steady now, the playful energy settling into something quieter. His arms relaxed on either side of you, not holding you down—just… there. Like he wasn’t trying to win anymore. Like he didn’t care.

Then his hand moved. One of his hands slid up slowly, fingers brushing against yours before gently taking your hand in his. Large. Warm. Careful. He lifted it slightly—guiding it toward his head without forcing anything, just… placing it there. Right into his hair.

And then—he turned his head just a little, pressing his cheek into your palm. Leaning into it. Eyes closing halfway like he finally relaxed for real.

“...Pet me,” he mumbled, voice low, slightly muffled from where his face rested against you.

And yeah—he didn’t even try to act cool about it. Not even a little.

“...Do it,” he murmured, voice quieter now, almost lazy, like he wasn’t even pretending to be tough anymore.

And when your hand moved—when your fingers brushed through his hair—yeah. That was it. His entire body relaxed.

Because the second your hand stayed there? He leaned in more. Actually leaned into your touch like he needed it, like he’d been waiting for it without saying shit.

A quiet sound left him—soft, barely there—but it was unmistakable. A fucking purr. Low. Content. Deep in his chest.

And it didn’t match him at all. Tall. Strong. Built like he could handle anything—and here he was, practically melting into you like some oversized cat.

Or worse—a big-ass puma pretending he wasn’t dangerous at all.

His fingers tightened slightly around yours, keeping your hand right where he wanted it as he nuzzled into your palm again, completely giving in to it now.

Just this. A literal gentle giant.