Discover Top Posts Tagged with #woninlove

HIII im sorry im so late but i love your “my boyfriends in a band” fic 💗

thank youu<3

hii! so ik another anon already did this and I’ve been looking for this fic for soooo long so I was wondering if you could maybe possibly help me find it (?) SORRY IK THIS IS ANNOYING IVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR TOO LONG I have part of the text from the fic which I provided below I don’t know the name of the author or the fic! :(

EVERYTHING BELOW THIS IS THE TEXT

His laugh was the most obnoxious thing you’d ever heard.

Like, you’d known cocky before—but whatever Ni-ki was doing right now had to be illegal.

“Again?!” you shouted, tossing the controller onto the bed as if that would somehow erase the scoreboard glaring in your face. Another L. Another smug smirk from him.

You’ve been sitting cross legged on his bed for hours, snacks everywhere, controller slick in your palms, too warm from how long you’d been clutching it. Your thumbs ached from smashing buttons like a lunatic, trying to win. Just one time. Just to wipe that annoying, stupidly attractive, shit eating grin off his face.

Ni-ki leaned back against his headboard, legs stretched out in a lazy V. His tank top rode up slightly, revealing a sliver of toned stomach, while his tattoo peeked out from the waistband of his pants.

He had the audacity to laugh again, turning on his side to face you. He props himself up on one elbow, cheek resting in his hand, half lidded eyes traveling down to your frustrated face.

“That’s—what? Seven–zero now?” His tone dripped with fake sympathy. “Kinda embarrassing.”

You shot him a glare sharp enough to kill. “You only won because I got distracted!”

“Distracted by what? My face? Just say you were staring.”

“Ew, shut up.”

You shove his leg with your foot, more petulant than violent, but he doesn’t even flinch. The boy is a damn brick wall. He just stretches, yawns, like he’s bored of winning.

“Don’t get mad at me for being naturally talented,” he drawls, voice low and lazy, almost sing-song in the way it dances right on your nerves. “Some of us are just built different.”

You grab the nearest pillow and hurl it at his smug face. He catches it—of course he does—with one hand, smirk barely twitching.

“Pathetic,” he says, muffled behind the pillow he’s now clutching to his chest like a shield. “Is this what losing does to you baby?”

Your blood simmers. Every word out of his mouth is gasoline.

“You’re so annoying,” you mutter, crawling across the bed just to yank the pillow back, but he doesn’t let go. He tightens his grip instead, watching you struggle with an expression that’s way too entertained.

“Annoying?” he repeats, eyes narrowing just a fraction, the smile spreading wider. “You sure you don’t mean irresistible?”

“Riki, I swear to god—”

He tugs the pillow suddenly, hard enough that you topple forward, landing half sprawled against his chest. The smug bastard has the audacity to laugh again, and that’s the final straw.

You launch yourself at him—tackling his side like a cat. He lets out this deep laugh, grabbing your wrists as you try to pin him down.

“You think this is funny?” you hiss, twisting and shoving at him, clawing for the upper hand. He barely budges, muscles coiled like he’s holding back. “Hilarious, actually,” he says simply, and then—just to make your blood boil even more—he pokes you in the side. A sharp, traitorous laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it. You start rolling across the bed, both of you half-laughing, half-wrestling. He suddenly hooks an arm around your waist and flips you effortlessly onto your back, making you shriek. Now he’s straddling your hips, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, grinning down smug as hell. “Say I’m the best or I’m not letting you go.” “Never.” “Wrong answer.” He digs his free hand into your side, mercilessly tickling, and your body bows up in a silent scream. You’re laughing so hard it’s hard to breathe. Tears prick your eyes as you try to kick and squirm away. You finally manage to wriggle a hand free, and smack him in the chest. He yelps dramatically, clutching his shirt like he’s been mortally wounded. You burst out laughing—until he tackles you again, this time pulling you into a headlock and rubbing his knuckles over your scalp. “Ow! My hair, you ass!” “Say it! Say I’m the best!” “Fuck—fine, fine, you’re the best!” He finally lets go, and you collapse breathless and giggly side by side. Your hair’s a mess, his tank top’s stretched from your tugging, and both of you are grinning like idiots

i unfortunately cant identify this but if anyone can please lmk in the comments so op can find out !!

edit: focus by @/saailorgoon !! (now deactivated) thank you @meloncholatte for finding it!!

#💌 : love notes #woninlove