── .✦ 10 Reasons Why You Cannot Fucking Stand Hwang Intak.
PAIRING: Hwang Intak x Fem!Reader
WC, 12.1k!!! smirk
SYNOPSIS: Ever since you were a kid, you were never able to stand Hwang Intak. It was clear to everyone that you hated his guts, and he hated yours. If anyone were to ask why you couldn’t stand him, you could list ten reasons off the top of your head, no hesitation. But to be honest? You weren’t sure when hate stopped being the right word to use.
DISCLAIMER/TROPES: NON idol au, academic!reader, childhood enemies to adult lovers, black cat/golden retriever, he fell first she fell harder! academic rivals … ish .. (squint if u can’t see it k shhhh…) littlebrother!jongseob LMAOO, intak annoying as hell but who is surprised really. just a menace tbh. Cursing , and minor mentions of violence …. bc U hate him that much. sorry i’m such a D1 hater #Srry , ALSO!!! hints of an eating disorder !!!!!! i think thats all the warnings .. Ok yeah
💌 MESSAGE FROM MIKA! hello!!!! first fic on here :3 shoutout to intak. he aight Ig. anyways. this is for my ennybear , we moving up in the world. @u2jwon HELLA AAYYYEEEE. pls i love this type of fic sm and i wanted to try it. it’s so generic and basic but bear with me i got too repetitive i feel. but Wtv. Ok. anyway ! hope u enjoy mamas i love U.
Ever since you were a kid, you were convinced Hwang Intak’s existence was the punishment for something awful you must’ve done in a past life. To you, he was like a disgusting leech you couldn’t quite rip off your skin, no matter how hard you tried. And his persistence doesn’t even begin to cover it. Growing up, it seemed that his goal in life was to piss you off for as long as you breathe on this planet.
And he was extremely good at it.
1. You Cannot Stand How He’s Been Around Since Forever.
You met him in first grade, which already felt unfair.
At only six years old, your entire universe was built on rules. Specifically, the basic customs your mother had taught you. Your crayon had to stay inside the lines of a coloring book. Your coloring utensils had to be returned to the correct slot in perfect rainbow order. Your pencil must be sharpened just right, not too pointy, but never dull. And most importantly, you were absolutely not allowed to share the cute little Pochacco erasers your father had brought home from a business trip in Japan.
Rules felt very important to you. It kept things neat and you liked knowing what to expect, liked the quiet satisfaction of having everything exactly where it belonged. Life was manageable that way. The classroom had structur, the desks were aligned, and the days followed the same schedule.
Everything felt perfect.
And then Hwang Intak walked in and ruined it it all.
The classroom door opened, and in came a boy you had never seen before, escorted by your teacher with a hand resting lightly on his shoulder. He looked very comfortable for someone new. His shoes were scuffed, his uniform slightly wrinkled, and there was a grin on his face like he already knew he would get away with whatever he wanted.
“This is Intak,” Your teacher said brightly. “Everyone say hello.”
“Hello,” He said, far too loud, waving at the class like he was greeting an audience, giggles spreading through your classmates like a wildfire. Your best friend Jiung from across the room laughed.
A frown appeared on your lips immediately. You felt that he was just another boy to be a nuisance with the other boys in your class.
Your heart sank when the teacher pointed to the empty seat next to yours. Of course it was next to you… He dragged the chair out with a loud scrape and plopped down like he claimed his rightful spot. You caught a whiff of him when he leaned too close. Grass, dirt, and something…. metallic?
Whatever it was, it was unpleasant.
Without another word, the boy leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back legs as if it were a cool trick he was trying to show off.
You stared at him, your posture for a six year old almost perfect, somehow offended on a spiritual level. “You are supposed to sit properly,” You said, voice tight.
He turned to you, eyes bright with interest. “Why?”
“Because that’s not how you sit,” You said, like it was obvious.
He squinted at the chair, then at you. “But I am sitting.”
“And it’s not right,” You insisted, pointing at his leaning chair. “You’re gonna fall.”
“I won’t,” He said immediately.
“You will.”
“No I won’t.”
“Yes you will,” You quipped, crossing your arms.
He grinned at that, like this was fun for him. “You’re bossy.”
“No I’m not,” You said. “You’re just wrong.”
That seemed to make him laugh. Not a quiet laugh either. A loud one that made the teacher look over. He scooted his chair closer to yours instead of fixing how he sat.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
You hesitated. “I don’t have to tell you.”
“Ok,” He said easily. “I’m Intak.”
“I know,” You replied. “She said it.”
He nodded like that made sense. “You have funny hair.”
You stiffened. “It’s not funny.”
“It is funny!” He said, reaching for one of your pigtails.
“Don’t touch me!” But too late. He gave it a quick tug.
“Hey—Ow!” You yelled, hand flying to your head. “Stop that!”
The room went quiet.
“Inside voices!” Your teacher said, turning toward you. Her eyebrows pulled together in that disappointed way you hated. “We do not yell in the classroom.”
“But Intak—“ You said quickly, pointing at him.
She shook her head, not even giving you a chance. “Intak is new, and we must be kind.”
That was it. Not a second of listening to you, and not even a question. Just Intak being new, and you being wrong.
You clenched your hands into fists, nails digging into your palms. That was definitely not fair. You were always kind! You followed the rules. You kept your crayons in order and never talked when you were not supposed to. And now you were the one in trouble.
“Intak is mean!” You had tried again, but you were immediately shut down.
Your teacher sighed. “I think we need a moment to calm down.”
Your chest felt tight. You don’t usually feel that either. You’ve only ever felt that way when you almost hurt your little brother and mother had scolded you. This was so not fair! You only told the truth.
“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, even though you weren’t.
“You can sit at the thinking table for a few minutes,” Your teacher said gently.
This was humiliation at its finest, everyone’s gaze was on you now. Your pigtails were slightly disheveled and uneven, your hair clearly out of place. Your eyes burned as you picked up your chair and carried it to the small table in the corner.
That was practically the walk of shame.
You sat there with your arms crossed, staring at the floor, trying very hard not to cry. And when you glanced back up, you saw Intak staring. He gave you a small wave.
You turned away immediately. What’s wrong with him? How could he stay silent as he got you into trouble and have the audacity to wave like you were his friend? He was evil!
Like seriously evil. Because it didn’t stop there.
When your time at the thinking table was over, your day had probably gotten way worse that it already was. This psycho went through your pencil box.... He started using your pencils... and then realization hit your kid brain.
Your Pochacco erasers, ruined...
With the ten minutes he has existed in your proximity, he's managed to pull your hair, get you in trouble for it, touched your things without asking, and poked little holes into your favorite erasers!
So from that moment forward, you had declared Hwang Intak was the worst person you had ever met.
By the end of the week, he was really just fucking everywhere. At recess, he and his newly recruited friends, Taeyang and Keeho, the two loudest and most annoying boys in school mind you, hogged your favorite part of the playground.
Whatever! Who cares about the swing sets anyway?! … Well.. you did.
But you were a determined girl! You found ways to try and avoid him, you made up new games, and tried to enjoy yourself.
Intak just couldn’t let that happen though.
He “accidentally” tripped you on your jump rope, kicked sand at your feet in the sandbox, drew chalk lines over your carefully measured hopscotch squares, and somehow always managed to kick a ball right at your head. He stole your turn on the slide, he and his friends would kick rocks across the pavement, doing absolutely everything and anything to bother you.
Then you learned something truly horrifying.
He was not just in your classroom, not just invading the playground, not just showing up at every corner of the school.
He moved in next door.
You had been blissfully unaware of this even being an option. You thought he only existed at school. And now? He lived in the house right next to yours, like some cruel joke the universe had decided to play.
Your little brother, Jongseob, seemed thrilled. “He’s our neighbor? That’s awesome!” He said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, probably excited that a boy around his age finally lived in your quiet culdesac. “Noona, we can play with him after school!”
You wanted to scream. “No, no, no, no!” You hissed. “He is not someone we play with!”
But this was unfortunately your life and from that day on, the phrase “out of sight, out of mind” became a cruel joke.
By the time you were twelve years old, it was undeniable. Intak had been part of half of your lifespan, and no matter what, he was always around. Every rule you’d ever made for yourself, every plan to avoid trouble, every small victory, he had a way of ruining it.
You truly hated him so, so much.
The nightmare never stopped. It was already a curse in itself that the two of you fell beside each other on every student roster. Your last names sat back to back every time.
And there was also the fact that he lived next door, your bedroom windows identically aligning. Just your luck, right?
Your carefully structured afternoons of school work, snack time, and peaceful moments of silent reading, were constantly interrupted by his laugh and his voice and the mere concept that he would never, ever go away.
He was everywhere and you chose that he was going to be your nemesis forever, so you plot quietly and meticulously. If he’s going to exist in the same air as you, then you will make it a full-time occupation to outdo, outshine, and generally make him rue the day he was born.
Everything escalates by the time you reached junior high, you thought maybe things would change. Maybe growing taller, a little smarter, a little more capable, would finally give you some control. But he’s the taller one now. Faster, louder, and he hasn’t lost that… presence. Teachers pair you together for projects like it’s some cosmic joke. He leans over your shoulder while you write out equations or outlines, whispering, “You know, you could do it easier this way,” and you grit your teeth.
He’s smarter than he looks, and he knows it.
2. You Cannot Stand How Unfortunately Smart He Is.
Your mind had decided early on that he was supposed to be an utter dumbass with the way he behaves. He was good at being annoying and sure, he was great in gym class and was great at sports, baseball and soccer especially. Yet, every now and then, he just proves you spectacularly wrong.
Most of the time, you were the smartest in the room. You aced tests, finished essays first, solved equations before anyone else even picked up their pencil. Teachers praised you and classmates asked for help. You took pride in knowing that no matter the subject, no matter the challenge, you would come out on top.
And then, like some kind of cruel joke, Hwang Intak would raise his hand.
He was never eager, it was never urgent, it was casual. Like he already knew the answer and was deciding whether or not it was worth saying out loud.
He always got it right.
What made it worse was that he enjoyed watching you try to keep your composure while he did it. He leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out, pen spinning lazily between his fingers, eyes flicking to you just long enough to see the way your jaw tightened. He smiled when you hesitated. He laughed quietly when the teacher corrected you instead.
And he never studied.
It actually couldn’t piss you off more, like holy shit, what the hell was his problem??
To you, it felt like watching someone be handed the keys to a multi-million-dollar penthouse and then tossing them aside without a second thought.
So, not only was he a waste of space, he was also a complete waste of a brain!
But of course, when it came to you… just to get under your skin, he always seemed to care just enough. He’d mumble curses to himself when you got praised, when the attention was on you. He seemed bitter when you got the academic awards and he placed second, sometimes even lower.
And you reveled in it! You loved to be better.
It all came to a head during midterms.
You had prepared for weeks. You and Jiung both. He was quizzing you, holding up flashcards, repeating formulas until your brain could recite them in your sleep. Notes rewritten three times until everything was perfectly organized.
You walked into the exam calm, confident, already planning how it would feel to see your name at the top of the class.
Intak strolled in five minutes late.
He dropped into his seat like he had all the time in the world, hair still damp, uniform slightly untucked. He didn’t even bother pulling out a pencil until the test was already on his desk. You watched him from the corner of your eye, annoyed despite yourself.
Within the hour, you had finished first, because of course you did. You double-checked every answer, erased and rewrote one equation just to be safe, then turned it in with your head held high.
Intak finished second.
That alone should have meant nothing. Except he stretched afterward, cracked his knuckles, and shot you a lazy grin like this was light work. It made your stomach twist.
When do I get to strangle him? You thought.
When the tests were handed back the following week, the classroom buzzed with murmurs and disappointed sighs. You flipped yours over, already bracing yourself for anything less than perfect.
Ninety-eight.
You blinked… That was fine! That was still excellent.
Then your teacher cleared his throat. “We had one perfect score this time.”
Your heart skipped. What? Because if it wasn’t you… then who was it? Maybe it was Jiung… right? It makes sense since you guys practically studied the same amount! Or that quiet kid in the back, Wonwoo, who had sticky fingers and was always playing a game on his phone… or maybe it was your peer Yunjin, she was very intelligent and—
“Intak, Congratulations! I was very impressed.”
… Nuh-uh …
The room erupted into whispers. It was likely that everyone expected it to be you. You stared straight ahead, fingers tightening around your paper until it crinkled.
You felt him glance over at you, eyebrows lifting just slightly. “Good effort,” He leaned over and whispered, almost like he meant it as he eyed the 98 on your paper.
You didn’t respond.
The worst part was not the score. The worst part was that you had never seen him open a single textbook in this class, so how the fuck was any of this even possible?
“Really? You think he cheated?” Jiung laughed from your bed as you paced back and forth, still trying to process the fact that he had gotten a perfect score when you hadn’t.
“Oh, I know he cheated,” You snapped, turning on your heel. “There is no way he didn’t.”
Jiung propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with amused disbelief. “I mean his notes are garbage from what I’ve seen.”
You laugh. “He doesn’t even take notes!”
The boy on your bed scratches the back of his head, deep in thought, before he spoke. “You know, come to think of it.. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him open a textbook in that class.”
“That’s exactly my point!” You pointed. “He doesn’t study. He’s never taken anything seriously. He doesn’t even pay attention, Jiung! And somehow he’s out here humiliating me in front of the entire class.”
“Okay, relax.” Jiung hummed, trying not to laugh at you. “But come on,” He said slowly, “Maybe he is just smart.”
You stopped pacing. “Don’t ever say that again.”
“All Im saying is,” Your best friend shrugged. “Some people are annoyingly good at things without trying.”
“He’s the bane of my existence,” You muttered, collapsing onto your desk chair. “If I have to suffer through quizzes and practice problems, he should too.”
Jiung laughed again. “You’re taking this very personally.”
“Because it is personal!” You shot back. “He knows how much I hate him and he knew exactly what he was doing! Did you see the way he looked at me? Like he was waiting for a reaction out of me.”
Jiung raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk on his face. “Maybe he wanted to impress you.”
You scoffed. “Absolutely not.”
And later that night, as you stared at your ceiling, you couldn’t stop replaying the moment. The way he had glanced over at you.
The quiet sincerity in his voice when he said, “Good effort.” It was almost… genuine.
Girl whatever, there’s no way it was.
But it unsettled you more than the score ever could.
From then on, the competition only intensified. Every quiz, every assignment, every question became a silent war. You worked harder, stayed up later and refused to let him get ahead again.
And Intak noticed. He started watching you more closely in class. Started leaning over during partner work to point out your mistakes. Started offering help you absolutely did not ask for.
“You did that wrong,” He whispered once, tapping your notebook in Biology.
“No I didn’t,” You shot back, and you were right. He was just trying to piss you off.
It was really just arrogance. Intak liked knowing he could get under your skin. He liked winning and you refused to consider the possibility that he was paying attention to you for any other reason.
Because if Hwang Intak actually cared what you thought of him, then that would be far worse than losing first place by two points.
By the time tenth grade came around, you were confident that everything would balance out. You finished last year as the number one student of your class, Intak somehow second.
You thought that maybe academics were where you continued to shine and he’d falter in his department. That would be fair. That would make sense. People like Hwang Intak were not supposed to have everything.
Anyways, you were painfully wrong… Again!
It was actually even worse!
He became the youngest varsity baseball captain the school had ever seen. It was annoying enough that he had made varsity the year before, but now? Now it was just getting ridiculous how much the universe seemed to work in his favor.
3. You Cannot Stand How Good At Baseball He Is.
He was the type of player who should have nothing but a mediocre six pack and a disgustingly large ego. He ran across the bases during games and did sit ups in gym class without ever looking winded. He hit homeruns like it was the easiest thing in the world, and carried himself with a confidence that bled into the hallways, as if it were his personal responsibility to remind everyone just how soooo freaking awesome he was.
Barf.
Your life, by this point, had become a constant struggle between duty and survival. You were on student council which meant attending every single home game, which also meant being trapped at the field, watching the entire student body go wild every time Intak swung at the ball.
And you had perfected the art of glaring in silence.
Intak noticed this. Of course he noticed, he always noticed! He’s just soooo perfect!!! Jesus christ, get a load of this guy.
The way you slouched back in annoyance whenever he stood at third base, ready to score. The way your little brother and his friends would come to games, despite still being in junior high, and cheered louder than anyone else, waving their hands in the air like they were Intak’s own little club of fan girls when he slid into home.
And worst of all? You refused to admit but fuck, he makes it look so damn cool. Every throw from short stop, every base hit perfectly timed, that infuriating grin on his face like he had already won the universe, it was all effortless, and it made your blood boil.
You tried to convince yourself it was just luck or skill or maybe he hired an Etsy witch. That all of this talent had nothing to do with him. Obviously, it did. But whatever.
You were a hater, and you stood by it. And that’s okay!
While you were cursing Intak away in what you wished was a death note, the rest of the school practically worshipped him. Girls squealed whenever he sprinted across the bases. Boys slapped him on the back, calling him a star, a natural… “the goat.” That last one came from Shota, and the look you gave him could have burned a hole right through his forehead.
You wanted to vomit every time someone said his name. Even Jiung occasionally fell victim to praising Intak, leaving you to stew in disgust while he charmed everyone else effortlessly.
And then there were the little things. Whenever he scored, he would point and send a wink to Jongseob in the bleachers, who was always, always, not only sat with his friends, but right next to you. The action made you brother laugh uncontrollably as if they shared some secret, private joke.
Everything was pissing you off, and you needed a moment to yourself. Maybe resorting to student council duties will help, you thought.
“I’m gonna help clean concessions,” You said abruptly, nudging your brother to let him know you were stepping away. He nodded. “Okay, see you later,” He replied, though his attention was already elsewhere, eyes glued to the field as the game was approaching the last inning.
After games, you always stood in the same spot. Jongseob tended to run onto the field afterward to hang out with his hyungs, and you had learned long ago that it was easier to wait at the bike racks near the west gate, under a flickering light pole that buzzed like it might give out any second. It was an unspoken agreement: you waited, he found you, and then you went home together.
It was like that in the mornings too. Make sure he’s awake, leave the house, and make sure he got to school on time. It was no hassle anyways, his school was a block down from yours.
So when the field finally started to empty and he still hadn’t shown up, irritation and concern were the first things to creep in. You checked your watch… it was still early enough, so it should be fine right?
Still, you called once. Nothing. Then twice before it went straight to voicemail. You called a third time, pressing your thumb a little harder into the screen, holding your breath as it rang.
Still nothing.
Your stomach tightened. Jongseob was only two years younger. He could handle himself! But you were responsible, and it was your job to care… And you cared a lot.
You scanned the parking lot, the bleachers, the groups of parents and players lingering around. You even walked closer to the field, craning your neck like that might somehow make him appear.
Maybe he was with Shota, you reasoned. That made sense. They did that sometimes. You exhaled slowly, forcing your shoulders to relax. He was fine. He had to be.
By the time you finally boarded the bus, an hour went by before that. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep, dark blue. The seat beneath you felt colder than usual as you stared out the window, jaw tight, replaying every “what-if” you had promised yourself not to think about.
When you finally got off and started the walk home, your nerves were frayed. And it didn’t help that your parents were out of town, meaning it was just you and Jongseob.
You were hoping you’d come home and see he miraculously got home before you but.. still nothing. Hours slipped by, and your fingers trembled, anxiety clawing its way up your spine.
Your brother was basically missing, and you didn’t know what to do.
You had continued to call his phone, and it automatically went to voicemail. You texted Jiung, wondering if he knew anything, and Shota didn’t pick up. Some of Jongseob’s classmates were no use either and now you were completely freaking out.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, so the next thing you did was go next door, and knock. But before you could do that, a car pulled into the street, and your heart stopped.
Jongseob was laughing as he got out of the car, backpack slung low on one shoulder, walking along the pavement like he had not just shaved years off your life. Next to him was a familiar figure, keys dangling from his fingers, fast food bag swinging lazily at his side.
Of course.
You didn’t even hesitate. You stepped off Intak’s porch almost immediately, letting your relief and frustration tangle into one sharp, bitter laugh.
4. You Cannot Stand How Much Your Little Brother Loves Him.
“Noona!” Jongseob beamed the second he spotted you. “Intak drove me home!”
“Seob?” You took a deep breath, not wanting to snap right away. “Where have you been?!”
He blinked before he could speak, almost as if he was taken aback by your tone. It was astonishing how oblivious your brother was to your genuine concern and irritation.
“That’s my bad, sorry. His phone died, and we couldn’t find you after the game,” Intak butted in, entirely too casual as he stepped closer, like he belonged there.
“I was standing where I always stand,” You quipped, eyes burning into him before flicking them back to your brother. “I was so worried! It’s been hours! Do you have any idea how terrifying that is?!”
“I’m sorry, I—” Jongseob hesitated, then lifted the bag like it was a peace offering.
“Relax, look at him, he’s fine! He was with me.”
You laugh. “Oh, like that makes it any better?” Your words were stern. Intak scoffed through a smirk, rolling his eyes.
“We went and got some food. We were starving and he treated me? We hung out after. He did a good deed.” Seob spoke up. “I don’t get why you’re so mad?!”
Your breath hitched. The way he talked back caught you completely off guard. You guys rarely argued, and he always respected you as an older sister… so this was different.
A sharp, incredulous laugh escaped you before you could stop it. "Because you’re my responsibility, Seob!" You stepped closer, fists clenched at your sides, voice shaking with frustration. "It’s not just about you! It’s the principle! Not even telling me where you were! I would’ve let you go if you just asked, even if I don’t trust him!”
Seob’s jaw tightened. "I’m not a kid," He muttered, voice low but defiant, eyes flashing. "I can take care of myself."
"You just turned thirteen!" You snapped back, stepping right up into his space, your voice dropping to a dangerous edge. "Mom and dad are in another country and I had to spend the last four hours freaking out because I thought I screwed up as an older sister!“
Intak shifted uneasily, realizing the intensity of the situation as he glanced between you two. "Hey, maybe tone it down—"
"No!" You shot back, ignoring him. "Don’t you dare try to calm this down when you think it’s okay to drive my little brother around when you barely got your permit a week ago." You snapped towards Intak before looking at Seob, heart hammering and voice breaking slightly. "Do you even realize how reckless this all was?"
Seob flinched at the accusation, and for a moment, the anger in your eyes seemed to pierce through him. Silence fell, thick and suffocating, broken only by the rapid thump of your heart. His hands trembled slightly at his sides, not out of fear, but out of frustration. "I wasn’t trying to make you worry!" He shot back, voice tight, but controlled. "I was fine! You always overreact!"
You said nothing in response. Because if you opened your mouth, you were pretty sure something unforgivable would come out.
“I’m sorry,” Intak blurted, like the words had been stuck in his chest. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that only made him look more human, and more out of place in the middle of this storm.
“For all of this,” He added, gesturing vaguely at the tension crackling between you and Seob, at the weight of worry and frustration hanging in the air like smoke.
He glanced at Jongseob, eyes earnest, almost pleading. “Listen to your sister,” He said softly, leaning just slightly forward, the seriousness in his tone cutting through the earlier casualness. “She was just worried. That’s all. You should understand, and she has a point.”
Seob’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking to you, then back to the floor, like he wasn’t sure whether to be angry, defensive, or grateful. The silence stretched between the three of you, thick and fragile, every heartbeat amplified, as if the air itself was holding its breath.
Without another word, Jongseob gave you the cold shoulder, brushing by you and walking toward the house.
You sighed. This was the last thing you wanted, you never liked fighting with him, he was your world.
“Look—“
“Don’t talk to me.” You shook your head at Intak before following after Jongseob.
This was your last straw. Well. One of them. You had a bad habit of declaring every straw the last. But fighting with your brother was something you couldn’t stand at all.
You absolutely hated how Jongseob listened to him, and not you.
He somehow managed to captivate everyone around him, win over friends, charm strangers, and do it all without breaking a sweat. Everyone, that is, except for you of course. You stayed firmly planted in your role as the sole person on earth who wanted to cut his throat.
It was ridiculous honestly because you knew the second Intak wormed his way into your little brother’s life when you were kids, that it would never end well for your sanity.
One day, Jongseob was perfectly normal!!! The next, he was Intak’s biggest fan, following him around like a lost puppy with stars in his eyes and as if that loser hung the moon.
He really isn’t even all that!! Or.. that’s what you’ve always tried to convince yourself.
Long story short, your brother clearly looked up to Intak and in return, he leaned into it. He taught Jongseob how to swing a bat properly in his back yard, exaggerated every single movement like it was a professional tutorial and laughing when your brother tripped over his own feet trying to attempt a slide.
He showed up at your house uninvited, ball and gloves in hand, asking, “Is Seob home?” like he belonged there. Your parents adored him immediately, even your father, who first knew Intak as the boy who ruined your Pochacco erasers.
To them, he was, kind, helpful, and respectful, “A cutie handsome boy…” is what your mom said. In their eyes he was the kind boy next door who offered to carry groceries and remembered to say thank you.
You wanted to scream.
And it only got more infuriating than before when Jongseob made varsity his first year too.
You were so happy for him! He was entering high school and he was getting older, doing what he’s grown to love! But god was the captain still the biggest pain in your ass imaginable.
Jongseob came home from baseball practice one evening, backpack bouncing, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. “Hyung helped me during drills today!” He announces, grinning like he just won the World Cup. “He says I’m improving and could probably be better than Keeho in a week tops.”
You freeze in the kitchen, spatula in hand. The Intak dickriding will always tick you off. It’s like he pays your brother to say these things at this point.
“He’s a great leader,” Jongseob continues, oblivious to the storm brewing behind your eyes. “He deserves to be captain. And today, this time he showed me this trick for throwing, and I—”
“Stop,” You groan, trying to sound calm. “Stop telling me about him.”
“But I thought you’d want to know…” Jongseob says, genuinely confused.
Of course, you want to know.. but not when everything revolves around … Mr. Barf-face. You want to support your little brother, see him succeed, but not when the circumstances drive you insane. Not when the reason he’s improving is because of that boy, who somehow wormed himself into your academics, your home, your family, and well… your entire life.
Now, Intak shows up at your house for “check-ins” with Jongseob. He sprawls on the living room couch, casually tossing a baseball back and forth, chatting with your brother like he’s always belonged inside what’s supposed to be your safe haven.
Through the months, Keeho and Taeyang began to come over also, eating the snacks you bought for yourself and Jongseob, rearranging furniture without asking, laughing like it’s their own home. Even Shota comes over to hang. Everyone just looovessss Hwang Intak!!!!!
And him? He knows exactly what he’s doing.
He wins over your little brother. Check.
He wins over Jiung, who occasionally disappears mid-study session with a shrug and, “Intak asked if I wanna play Mario Kart..” …. Check.
He wins over your grandma after she stopped by to drop off her homemade tubs of kimchi. Check. Like what??
And not only has he won over your mother and father, but he’s won their … “blessing.”
And that alone speaks for itself. He needs to go to hell.
From casually asking about their day, making small talk, offering to help with lifting or cleaning, slipping in jokes that make them laugh, all while grinning at you like you’re supposed to be impressed.. or furious? Maybe both.
He thinks it’s sooo funny, while you’re stuck in the hallway, picking at the edge of your fingertips, feeling simultaneously enraged and helpless, wondering how one person could have so effectively taken over everything you live for without even breaking a sweat.
At this point, it really wasn’t just Jongseob. His charm was universal, and everybody fell for it. Everything about it just felt like the world was pulling a big prank on you, like it was some sick joke you weren’t in on.
Because genuinely, what the fuck was so special about Hwang Intak? A question you’ve been asking since you were six years old, and have yet to find the answer to.
Your family loved him. Your friends loved him. Teachers loved him. Classmates left and right loved him. Neighbors loved him. Even the corner store clerk loved him!
Attention was on him at all costs. Sure, you were praised at school, but not in the way he was praised. Teachers adored you in the strict, has high standards for you way, and they adored him in the favoritism, fond sigh kind of way. They smiled when he raised his hand. They let him talk a little longer than everyone else and said his name like it carried warmth.
“Hwang Intak is such a bright boy,” They’d say. “So polite.” As if he wasn’t the same guy who threw crumpled paper balls at the back of your head a week ago.
So like actually, what fucking Etsy witch did he hire.
You didn’t even know where to begin when it came to the neighbors. He mowed Mrs. Kim’s lawn without being asked. Helped Mr. Park do heavy lifting in his garage. Always bowed properly, always smiled, always said hello like he meant it. People waved at him when he walked by, and maybe sometimes they waved at you too, but it felt like it was because they felt bad.
It didn’t make sense to you. Hwang Intak was never the type to do things for others without expecting something in return. He was selfish.. so you knew this was just olympic-level ass kissing.
How dependable and sweet, perfect little Hwang Intak is!!!
Everybody loved him!!!! It was a known fact. And another known fact was that you were the only one who fucking hated him!
Which was why it made absolutely no sense that you were the only one he seemed interested in provoking. The only one he argued with. The only one he teased. The only one he lingered around.
Out of everyone begging for his attention, you were the one he wasted his breath on.
He was supposed to hate you, because doesn’t he? Hwang Intak always teased you, he always found ways to piss you off and ruin everything. He was supposed to snap back, roll his eyes, walk away. Ignore you the way you ignored everyone else. But instead, he lingered, talked, and teased.
He wasted his breath on you when he can quite literally spend it anywhere else.
5. You Cannot Stand How He Never Leaves You Alone.
By the end of senior year, Intak stops pretending his presence is accidental.
It is in the way he waits when he has no reason to. How he stands half-turned in classroom doorways long after the bell rings, backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, like he is giving you time to notice him leaving. It is in how he slows his pace to match yours in the hallway, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his arm when he strolls past you.
He does not touch you, he does not crowd you, he hovers just within reach, just within your awareness, a constant irritation that makes your skin prickle. Too close to be comfortable, not close enough to justify telling him to move.
You catch him leaning against lockers when you stop to talk to Jiung, watching with that lazy, unreadable expression, as if he is waiting his turn. When you finally glance his way, he straightens, eyebrows lifting slightly like he has been caught doing nothing wrong at all.
“What?” He asks.
“You have a staring problem,” You shoot back.
He smiles like that is the answer he wanted.
It feels intentional, every single second of it. It’s like he decided that this is where he belongs now. Right there, in your space, testing how long you will tolerate him before you break.
“Fucks sake,” You mumble to yourself one afternoon, snapping your locker shut, “For someone who hates me, you spend an awful lot of time hovering.”
He tilts his head slightly, considering you. “Who said I hate you?”
“You did,” You scoff, immediately. “Multiple times.” You think of every overheard comment, every careless remark, every moment where your name came from his mouth, never kindly. “Or did you forget all of that already?”
He hums, unconvinced. “That’s not how I remember it.”
That answer alone makes you want to shove him.
By the time senior year is ending, this is just how things are.
Intak appears mid-conversation like he has been summoned. You will be talking to Jiung about homework or weekend plans when he drifts over, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking between the two of you like he is waiting for a pause.
“Did you see the way Mr. Han tripped over the pile of papers?”
Jiung laughs awkwardly, you stay silent becore your best friend replies. “Yeah, actually. It was funny.”
You glare at him. “Why are you even—”
“Just making conversation,” He says, shrugging like it was an obvious fact.
Shit like this kept happening. You would stand up to grab something, turn around, and now he is in your seat.
“Get up,” You say flatly.
He leans back. “You walked away.”
“For two seconds.”
“Still walked away.”
“Intak.”
“Nah.”
You end up standing the entire class period out of pure spite, refusing to ask again. He watches you the whole time like this is the most entertaining thing he has seen all week.
Then there was the tapping. A knuckle against your shoulder in the hallway, two fingers at your elbow when you are not looking, a light nudge when he brushes by in the halls.
You whirl around every time. “What is wrong with you?”
He lifts his hands innocently. “Just checking.”
“Checking what?”
“That you’re still mean,” He replies, amused as you huff in annoyance.
What episode does a grand piano fall on him? You thought to yourself.
And it wasn’t just the physical closeness. It was the way his presence slotted itself into your routine, into your periphery. He was always there when you didn’t want him to be. Smirking at you when you had to clench your jaw to ignore him. He always managed to make you react, whether you wanted to or not.
Hwang Intak was always annoying and it seriously has gotten so much worse than before. You never even thought that was possible.
He wasn’t just invading your bubble anymore, he had moved in, unpacked, and was rearranging the furniture for maximum irritation.
Graduation finally arrived as a long-awaited relief. Caps soared into the air, speeches droned on, and cameras flashed relentlessly.
You stood at the podium, your heart hammering while you delivered the valedictorian speech you had spent weeks rehearsing in front of Jiung. (He cried each time.) Every carefully chosen word, every pause, every look at the audience, all meant to impress, inspire, and leave a mark.
And that’s what you do. Applause filled the auditorium as you stepped down, chest still high with the pride of being top of your class, the culmination of years of study, late nights, and stubborn perfectionism.
Sound the alarms! Because thank god it wasn’t Hwang Intak.
When you break free from the crowd of graduates towards the end of the ceremony, Jongseob’s hand finds yours almost immediately, tugging you toward him like he’s physically tethering you to stay as if you leave tomorrow.
Relief washes over you as you sink into the familiarity of your little brother’s presence, and for a moment, the loud celebration of students and upbeat music blaring through speakers feels manageable.
Then your moment of peace shatters.
Jongseob jerks free of your arms, eyes lighting up as he darts toward his “hyung.” … More like HYUCK!
You watch helplessly as the two of them collide in the middle of the crowd, Jongseob bouncing in excitement while Intak’s grin stretches impossibly wide, like he owns the world.
You clench your fists, muttering under your breath. I can’t wait until I move away. A whole new campus, thousands of students I don’t know. Finally, I can escape him.
Except, your parents, and his mother, did not let you forget that the possibility was slim at best.
“Oh, so you’ll both be at the same university?” Your mom had said, smiling a little too knowingly at the dinner table a few months back. “It’ll be so fun! It’s nice to have a familiar face. You can spend lots of time together!”
His mother had been equally gleeful, hands folded over her chest. “It’s perfect! They offered him a spot on the baseball team. It’s just the right distance for independence, but close enough for visits. You two will come visit together, yes?”
And Jongseob, bless him, had piped up with a grin so wide it should have been illegal. “I can take the train to come see you both, stay with Intak, spend time with my sister! It’s perfect.” He said with a smirk.
God, knock it off and SHUT UP.
You had ground your teeth so hard it felt like they were about to fall out. They were all right, and yet every word felt like salt in the wound. The thought that Intak could still appear in your life so effortlessly made your stomach twist.
Still, you clung to your fantasy: maybe the crowds, the new faces, and the sprawling campus.. it might swallow him up.
Maybe for once, you could breathe without the constant awareness that Hwang Intak was lurking somewhere, ready to ruin your carefully curated peace.
Well, too bad.
Reality hit faster than you could blink. He was everywhere you didn’t want him to be. Your general education classes, same discussion groups… your dorm hall?
His room was right across from yours. Close enough to hear his laugh through the hall, close enough for you to catch him lingering just outside your door as if he had a reason to be there… he didn’t.
You discovered this inconvenient truth on move-in day. You and your family were hauling boxes up the stairs, juggling bags and luggage and orders of fast food, when out of the corner of your eye you spotted a familiar figure. Leaning against a stack of storage containers like he had all the time in the world, arms folded, grin stretched impossibly wide as he mingled with unfamiliar faces, already making friends.
Intak. Of course.
Behind him, his mother was chatting animatedly with your own, both women smiling like the universe had gifted them the perfect coincidence.
Jongseob, completely unfazed, waved at his hyung and ran straight to him. You froze, luggage in hand, jaw tightening.
“Neighbors for a thirteenth year in a row?,” He approaches, glancing at your door number.
“A dream of mine,” You reply snarkily.
“Yeah,” He replies easily. “Im sure.”
You rolled your eyes, muttering something under your breath about never getting a moment’s peace, and continued moving in, dragging your suitcase a little faster, feeling his gaze linger just long enough to make your skin crawl.
And you knew, like you’d known since first grade, that he was not going to make anything easy.
And you were right.
Somehow, no matter how carefully you timed your exits or how fast you walked, he always managed to fall into step beside you on the way to class. Like it was a coincidence and wasn’t deliberate at all.
He would comment on the weather, complain about a professor, ask if you had finished an assignment he knew you had already done. There was always an excuse to talk.
And it wasn’t as if he lacked other people to occupy him. He had his own friends now, loud and easy and everywhere. He went out with his roommate, with other guys from the hallway, with Keeho and Taeyang whenever they came and visited. He was busy, popular, and wanted. As per usual.
But he still found the time to bother only you.
It felt like if he went five seconds without interacting with you, he might explode. A comment tossed over his shoulder as you passed, a knock on your door for the stupidest reason, or a sudden appearance at the table you sat at in the dining hall because you thought it was far enough away.
It was… strange.
You tried not to think about it too hard. Tried not to acknowledge the way your chest tightened every time you sensed him nearby, the way your focus faltered when his attention locked onto you so easily.
There was no reason for it. No explanation that didn’t sound ridiculous.
And there’s no way it was because of what your mind had dared to suggest for half a second.
No way.
One night on an early October evening, there was a knock on your door. You freeze for a second, eyes narrowing as you shared silent glances with your roommate.
You give in and open the door to Intak.
“Think you left this in the lounge,” He says, holding up your notebook like it was the token for a reward.
“Didn’t ask you to grab it,” You reply, leaning against your door frame while refusing to take it immediately.
“You would’ve freaked out if it was never returned,” He says like he knows you. He holds it out closer, and you finally snatch it from him.
“Okay, was that all?” You ask, keeping your tone flat.
“No, actually I was wondering—,” He starts talking, just enough to make your stomach twist.
“Nah, I’m good.” You cut him off and close the door in his face, slamming it lightly enough that it’s pointed but not dramatic.
“Not even a thank you at least?” He calls through the door, voice teasing and a small breathy laugh followed after.
You roll your eyes, exasperated, but can’t stop the small tug in your chest. You open the door slightly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thank you,” You say, voice clipped, then shut it firmly again.
Even in that simple exchange, the tension had a buzzy feeling to it. And you hated it.
“So, who is that?” Your roommate asks, looking up from her phone. She’d notice how often you two would interact throughout the last couple weeks, she’s seen him linger all the time.
“Nobody important,” You mutter immediately, already turning back to your desk like the conversation is over. You drop your notebook a little harder than necessary and pretend very seriously to rearrange your pens.
She hums, the sound thoughtful. Then, casually, “Well, he’s cute.”
You sigh, dropping into your chair and scrubbing your hands over your face. Of course she thinks that. Everyone freaking thinks that. There is not a single universe in which someone meets Hwang Intak and does not immediately decide he’s charming, handsome, amazing, or all of the above.
And no shit she isn’t the only one.
It starts subtly at first.
Some of your hallway neighbors would linger near his door for a little too long, knocking to bother him with some nonsense. Soft giggles followed by his voice would trickle through the door when you’re trying to study. Sometimes you’d run into them, some lingering by the girl’s communal bathroom, waiting for it to open, you’d see their arm looped through his, smiling like they’ve won something while you’re trying to go down to the laundry room, basket in hand.
Some have left early in the morning, slipping past you in the hallway while you’re half-awake and clutching your flask of coffee.
It reminded you of high school.
You remember glancing out your bedroom window and seeing him help someone climb in, hand warm on her wrist. Or catching sight of a girl sneaking out through their back door while you were pretending not to look.
You’d scoff, roll your eyes, tell yourself it was none of your business and it didn’t mean anything.
And it still doesn’t mean anything now.
If anything, it should have been proof. Proof that whatever strange, intrusive thoughts had tried to take root in your head were completely wrong. He didn’t like you like that. He just liked bothering you and he liked attention. He liked people and liked being wanted.
You were just convenient.
Except he still notices when you skip class. When you look exhausted, eyes dull and posture stiff, like you pulled another all-nighter out of stubbornness. When you seem anxious from what was likely another late night walk back from the library, keys threaded tightly between your fingers. Even when you forget to eat a proper meal and try to pass it off like it doesn’t matter.
“Dining hall?” He asks one night, falling into step beside you like it’s muscle memory.
“No, library,” You reply coldly, gaze fixed straight ahead, pretending you don’t feel the way his presence settles too easily at your side.
He slows, just a fraction. “Did you go already?”
You roll your eyes. “I will later.”
“It’s already late,” He points out, glancing at the time on his phone. “And it closes in an hour.” There’s a pause, then softer, almost careful. “Come on. Just grab a bite. I’ll walk you after.”
“I don’t need an escort,” You mutter.
“I know,” He says quickly. “Just thought I’d .. offer.”
You glance at him despite yourself. His expression is annoyingly earnest, brows slightly knit like he’s actually worried you’ll say no. It makes something twist uncomfortably in your chest.
“You’re annoying,” You say.
He grins, relieved. “That’s not a no.”
A sigh escapes your mouth, already changing direction. He follows, matching your stride like he always does, like this was never even a question. But then you stop walking. “Why do you care?”
He stops and looks at you, expression unreadable. Then he shrugs. “Habit.”
6. You Cannot Stand How He Assumes You Need Him.
You scoff, turning back toward the path. “That’s not an answer.”
He falls into step again anyway. Of course he does. “Sure it is.”
“No, it’s not,” You shot back. “I didn’t ask you to look out for me. I didn’t ask you to keep tabs on whether I eat or sleep or go to class.”
“I know,” He says, calm in that infuriating way that makes it feel like you’re the only one worked up. “You would never ask me to anyway.”
You hated that. Hated the implication tucked inside it.
The dining hall lights glow ahead of you, bright and loud and full of people, and yet you feel weirdly exposed walking beside him. Like he’s seeing too much. Like he always has.
“I can function just fine without you, thank you very much,” you add, quieter now.
He exhales through his nose, a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “I know.”
“Then stop,” you say. “Stop acting like you care and stop doing things for me as if you’re trying to make up for thirteen years of being a menace.”
He doesn’t answer right away. He opens the door for you instead, holding it just long enough that you hesitate before walking through. You don’t thank him. He doesn’t comment on it.
Inside, he grabs a tray like it’s automatic. He doesn’t ask what you want, doesn’t push food onto your plate. He just stays close, leaning against the counter while you fill your plate with the bare minimum you can get away with.
“See?” You say, gesturing vaguely. “I’m fine.”
He hums, unconvinced, staring at your toast with jam with fries on the side. “That’s a sad dinner.”
“Mind your business.”
He shook his head. “Don’t want to.”
“If I got a burger, would that make you shut up?”
Intak shrugged. “Eat what you want, I don’t control you.”
You glare and roll your eyes at him, but he’s smiling, soft and familiar, like arguing with you is his favorite pastime.
A burger ends up on your plate anyways and the two of you sit together without meaning to. Not across from each other, but side by side, knees almost touching under the table. He eats like he always does, fast and careless, while you pick at your food.
“Wanna try this?” He asked suddenly, holding out a forkful of his salmon and rice like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You didn’t like your burger, and your fries went cold. You let out a small, reluctant sigh, hesitating before nodding. “Sure.”
The first bite surprises you. It was way better than you expected. “Oh… wow. That is good,” You admit, swallowing quickly.
He tilts his head, smirk tugging at his lips. “You want it? Because I might just get a burger instead.”
You raise an eyebrow, a little daring now. “You can have mine,” you suggest, leaning slightly closer. “I don’t think I’m gonna eat this anyway.”
He grins, eyes lighting up, like he’s won some quiet victory. “Deal,” He says, effortlessly taking a bite of your burger before you can second-guess yourself.
Even as you watch him eat, side by side at the table, there’s a small, stubborn flutter in your chest, the kind that makes you shift in your seat and pretend you’re annoyed. But you aren’t really.. not entirely.
And that basically sums up how your first year of university with Intak went. He somehow inserted himself into your life, grounding you and checking in on you when you didn’t ask.
It didn’t happen all at once, there were weeks of petty annoyances, sometimes grocery runs or quiet breakfasts meals in the dining hall. There were even moments of him showing up exactly when you thought you’d be alone in the library.
But somewhere between late-night study sessions in the lounge and the two of you navigating group projects, the sharp edges of your irritation softened, just a little.
Intak learned your routines almost instinctively. He knew when you’d be running low on coffee, and somehow, a cup would appear on your desk before you even noticed. He noticed when you were tired, or when you went a little too long without eating, and would corner you with an extra sandwich or a bag of chips.
You would snap at him, of course. “I don’t need this,” You’d say, pushing it away. And he would just grin that lazy grin, shrugging like he was utterly unconcerned, but then he’d leave the food anyway.
One night, there was a campus party. Loud music, throngs of people, the kind of place you hated but couldn’t completely avoid. Some of the friends you made in your stats class invited you and Intak insisted you branch out and have fun.
So you did. He said he’d go and meet you there but he was no where to be found. You had tried to stay on the outskirts, quietly sipping an alcoholic punch, scanning the room for exits. But, within minutes, Intak was there, sliding in beside you like he belonged.
“You came,” You muttered, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, thought I’d make sure you didn’t kill someone” He said lightly, his tone teasing but calm. He didn’t hover over you or demand attention, just stayed close enough that you felt it.
Then came the moment. The music was loud, the bass rattling your chest, and people jostled past with drinks in hand. You were edging toward the quieter side of the room when a guy, too confident for his own good, clearly riding on bravado, cut in front of you, leaning a little too close, drink half-raised. Your stomach twisted and you froze, instinctively taking a step back.
“Hey,” Intak said, low and calm, stepping into the space between you and the guy. His shoulder brushed yours, grounding you, and he didn’t even look confrontational. Just steady, present, deliberate. “She’s good.”
The guy blinked, muttered something incoherent, and wandered off. You stared at Intak, chest tight, before looking away. He didn’t smirk or brag. He just stayed close, quietly making sure you were safe, and for a second, it hit you that he actually cared.
In that moment, everything shifted. It wasn’t about him being annoying anymore. Not just that. He could be infuriating, obnoxious, loud, and relentless, but now you realized there was a part of him that was quietly present, quietly watching, quietly making sure you were safe. No grand gestures, no showmanship. Just him being there and it was enough.
After that night, things changed in ways you couldn’t even name at first. He had convinced you to give him your number so he could send texts to check up on you, see if you’d taken care of yourself. He’d offer to help carry your books, with a subtle insistence on going to the library so he could walk you back to your dorm if it was late.
You snapped at him occasionally, because old habits die hard, because Hwang Intak was still Hwang Intak, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, you stopped dreading it. Not because you had to, not because it made sense, but because… you didn’t hate it.
It was infuriating, exhausting, and completely unavoidable, but it was also… comforting.
Maybe he was … somewhat your friend at this point?
The next three years of university flew by in a blur. Endless classes, complicated assignments, late-night study sessions, thesis after thesis, it often felt like you were drowning in work with no escape. And yet, through it all, Intak was there.
He slipped into your routines casually, even when he juggled his own student athlete schedule. He showed up at the right time, offering help you didn’t ask for, and always making his presence felt.
Life was actually … better with him around.
Which was weird because, for thirteen years, you felt that it would have been way better without him.
Intak learned everything about you, your little quirks, the way you always overpacked your backpack, how you could barely function without an energy drink after 10 a.m., how you muttered curses under your breath for hours whenever a professor screwed you over and gave you an unfair grade.
He helped you move in and out of apartments throughout the years, navigating early adulthood with you. Through long commutes, trips home for the holidays, early-morning runs through campus (a new hobby you had picked up), he would always be there.
And even with all his teasing, the tapping on your shoulder in quiet coffee shops, his little challenges that made your pulse spike, the smirks that were both infuriating and impossible to ignore, he was steady. Consistently and reliably, he was there.
It was clear you had grow very fond of him.
Everything started small. Sitting beside him in the lounge, laughing at some stupid meme he sent on Instagram, or nudging him when he got too cocky about an assignment.
Then more daring: playful arguments on your couch, facetime calls filled with giggles that lingered longer than they should, longing looks that you pretended didn’t exist. It was ridiculous, utterly insane… and fun.
Soon, flirtation followed. At first, it was subtle, his shoulder brushing against yours as you both reached for the same textbook, the way he’d hug you with a big smile once he saw you after his baseball games, or the way he would “accidentally” rest his hand near yours on the library table, the smirk that always meant he knew exactly what he was doing.
It was kinda pathetic though….
Hwang Intak was pathetic.
7. You Cannot Stand How Much of a Loser He Really Is.
It was clear he had an interest in you. You tried to avoid it but he made it impossible. He was such a loser when it came to you. He got shy. He got nervous. The Hwang Intak, star athlete, notorious for getting girls… got nervous around you.
He would flirt with you aimlessly in the most pitiful ways. He’d make a move and somehow it would backfire or he chickened out.
One evening though, everything … sorta changed for good.
You had gone to one of the biggest playoff games of the season, crammed into the bleachers with a crowd that felt louder than anything you had experienced all year. The air buzzed with anticipation, with chanting and clapping and the constant hum of nerves. Intak was starting, which you told yourself didn’t matter. You told yourself that a lot of things about him didn’t matter.
But it mattered.
The game was tight from the start. Every pitch had your heart lodged somewhere in your throat, every swing pulling a breath out of you that you didn’t realize you were holding. When he stepped up to bat, the crowd surged, and you felt it ripple through you too. Every play he made sent the stands into a frenzy, noise crashing down like a wave.
He looked unfairly good in his uniform. It was enough to make you feel a little sick.
When Intak crushed the ball for a three run homer, the stadium exploded. The sound was deafening. You were on your feet before you even knew you’d stood up, cheering until your throat burned, pride blooming so fast and so hard you had to swallow it down.
They won. And you were so, stupidly proud.
By the time the crowd spilled out of the stadium, your ears were ringing and your hands ached from clapping. You hovered near the player exit, pretending you were just lingering, definitely not waiting. You barely had time to register movement before a familiar voice cut through the noise.
He looked flushed and breathless, hair damp from what was probably a quick locker room shower and his eyes bright.
You didn’t even finish saying his name before he pulled you into a hug so tight your feet lifted clean off the ground.
You laughed in surprise, fingers curling into the back of his sweater as the leftover adrenaline buzzed between you both. “Okay!” You protested, laughing into his shoulder. “You actually stink. Put me down!”
He set you back on your feet almost immediately, brows lifting. “I do?” He tugged at the collar of his sweatshirt, sniffing himself. “I took a quick shower in the—”
“I just needed you to put me down,” You cut in, snickering.
Before he could respond, you stepped forward and hugged him again, softer this time. He laughed, arms wrapping around you without hesitation. When you pulled back, his hands lingered at your waist, like he hadn’t quite decided where they were supposed to go. Neither of you commented on it.
You walked together toward the parking lot, talking over each other, replaying the game beat by beat. You teased him about the risky slide. He shrugged it off like it was nothing. You praised the clutch play at the bottom of the ninth. He tried and failed to downplay it.
Cars filtered out around you, engines starting, headlights flashing on and disappearing one by one, until the lot felt strangely quiet. Smaller. Like the night had narrowed its focus.
“Okay, so,” you said, stopping near his car, hands clasped behind your back. “Shockingly enough, I think I should treat you to dinner. You earned it.”
He blinked. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” You insisted. “Consider it a reward.”
“Like a date?” He asked, brow quirking.
You scoffed. “You wish.”
His smile turned slow. “I do, actually.”
“Whatever,” You said quickly, brushing it off. “What are you in the mood for?”
He laughed, shoulders lifting in a shrug as the sun dipped lower, the golden light softening everything. “I kind of had a different reward in mind.”
Your eyes betrayed you, flicking to his lips for just a second. It was too late and you gave in. He leaned in and—
… Well his baseball cap bumped your forehead first.
Yeah. Only Hwang Intak could fumble a moment like this.
“Ow—” You pulled back, immediately dissolving into laughter as he seemed mortified. “Oh my god,” You groaned. “You aren’t real.” You burst out laughing before you could stop yourself, clutching your head as he froze in place, eyes wide with horror. “
“I’m so sorry,” He blurted, already yanking the cap off his head like it had personally betrayed him. “I didn’t think— I mean, I thought—”
“You didn’t think,” You corrected, shaking your head. “At all.”
He winced. “Okay, yeah. Fair.”
You reached out before he could retreat further, plucking the hat from his hands and flipping it around, settling it back onto his head backwards. Your fingers brushed his hair, and he stilled immediately.
“There,” You said, smoothing the brim. “I like it better this way anyway.”
He laughed, embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can we just… pretend that didn’t happen?”
You hummed thoughtfully. “No.”
“Please?”
You tilted your head, studying him. The same boy who had tormented you since childhood. The same boy who drove you insane, who lingered, who never knew when to leave you alone. The same boy who looked at you now like you were something fragile and precious and entirely terrifying.
And then, without warning, you leaned in.
This time, there was no collision. No fumbling. Just the quiet press of his lips against yours, hesitant at first, like he was waiting for you to pull away. When you didn’t, when you kissed him back, he exhaled softly, hands hovering at your waist before finally settling there, warm and sure.
The kiss was gentle. Sweet. Ridiculously overdue.
When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath uneven, a stunned smile spreading across his face like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
“I’ve wanted to do that since forever,” he admitted quietly.
You stared at him for half a second, then you laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You are such a loser, Hwang Intak.”
He grinned, completely unashamed. “If Im a loser, make that your loser.”
“No, just a big loser.” You snicker before he pinches your hip and dives back in for another kiss.
After that night, things don’t fall apart, but they don’t neatly come together either. Everything exists in fragments.
Graduation season arrived like a slow, unavoidable tide. Final papers and projects, cap-and-gown emails, checklists taped to your wall. Everyone keeps asking the same questions, What’s next? Where are you going? Are you excited?—and you keep nodding like you have answers.
Intak is everywhere and nowhere all at once. He and the university baseball team were on a legendary run and they had many championship titles to be fighting for.
Sometimes he’s gone for ten days straight, texting you from hotel rooms and buses, sending blurry pictures of stadium lights or selfies of him at empty fields. Sometimes he’s back for a single night, collapsing beside you with travel still clinging to him, arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.
You never say boyfriend. He never says girlfriend.
But he still sees you when he can. Still steals bites off your plate and still presses a forehead kiss like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
You move into your off-campus apartment eventually. You had to move out of your previous one before graduation. It was supposed to be exciting! It was your first place that isn’t moldy university housing, something that feels more adult and more real, but the day is quiet in a way you weren’t prepared for.
For the last three years, Intak had always been there.
Lifting boxes like it’s nothing. Complaining about the stairs. Sitting on the floor with you eating chips, surrounded by an overwhelming amount of storage bins.
This time, he’s in another city, miles and miles away.
You carry boxes up the steps yourself, arms burning, keys clutched between your fingers. You drop one in the hallway and have to sit on the floor longer than necessary, staring at the blank walls.
You don’t cry. You just feel… hollow.
That night, you FaceTime him from your mattress on the floor. He smiles when he sees you, proud and apologetic all at once.
“I should’ve been there,” He says quietly.
“I know,” You reply. And that’s it. There’s nothing else to say.
As graduation crept closer, time becomes something you hoard.
When you see him, you cling. You memorize and you take mental snapshots. You loved the way his hair curls when it’s grown out too long, the warmth of his hand at your lower back when he rubs soothing circles on it, and the sound of his laugh when he’s genuinely relaxed.
Sometimes you study together in silence, legs tangled, both pretending not to think about what’s coming.
Sometimes it’s harder.
“How long will you be away this time?” You ask one night, trying to keep your voice light because you knew he had another game to travel for.
“Just for a few days,” He says, but his jaw tightens like he knows it’s never just that.
You’re not even sure what to call this anymore.
You’re together. You’re not. You’re something fragile and undefined, balanced between now and later, between staying and leaving.
8. You Cannot Stand When He Leaves.
The weeks blur together after that.
Graduation day arrives in a whirl of gowns, caps, and stiff smiles. You’re valedictorian again for your major, a smaller ceremony, but still, your parents and Jongseob were proud as ever. You scan the crowd nervously, half-expecting to see him, half-hoping not to.
But you do.
He’s there, sitting with your family with that same easy grin plastered across his face. The moment your eyes meet, all the noise, the cameras, the chatter, the applause, melts into nothing.
After your ceremony, he’s the first person to find you. No awkward fumbling, no forced conversation, just that familiar, comfortable presence. He pulls you into a hug that somehow manages to be both grounding and electrifying at the same time.
“My girl,” He whispers into your hair, and you press a kiss to his cheek, your smile widening.
“I was scared you weren’t gonna make it,” You whisper back.
He grins, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
“I always knew you two would come to your senses.” Your mother interrupted. “I swear she’s always had a crush on you.”
“Eomma.” You grumble, hiding your face in his chest as your parents laughed.
Intak laughed. “More like the other way around.”
Later, he took you out for dinner. It was quiet, candlelit, and at the kind of place that makes everything outside fade. He listened when you talked about your thesis, your professors, the long nights in the lab, the friends you’ll miss.
And he didn’t tease, not once. He was just… there, soft and present, holding your hand across the table, letting you talk your head off.
It was perfect!
Until dessert.
He reached across the table again, lacing his fingers with yours, and you feel the familiar warmth coil in your chest. “There’s something I need to tell you,” He says, quiet enough that it almost feels like he’s testing the words in his mouth.
Your stomach twists. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah..” He swallows. “I guess.” A pause. “Okay, I got an offer. From a professional baseball team, in Japan. It’s a big step for me, and… I’d have to move.”
The words hit like a fastball to the chest. Your fingers tighten around his. “For how long?”
“I don’t know,” He admits. His thumb grazes your knuckles. “Months. If all goes well, maybe a year.. or more. And… I wanted you to be the first.. to know.”
You blink, because part of you wants to be angry, and part of you wants to cling to him like you’ve done so many times before.
“And… what about us?”
His grin falters for the first time in hours. “I don’t want to lose what we have. And I know it’s going to be hard. Especially for me.”
You squeeze his hand, and the frustration and worry in your chest gives way to the familiar ache you’ve tried to ignore. “We’ll figure it out. Promise,”
Every goodbye now comes with the sting of knowing it will be longer than before. Every trip he takes, every practice he misses, feels like a small erosion of the fragile bubble you’ve built together.
And then, the day comes. He’s packed, luggage in hand, passport and ticket clutched in his other. You walked him as far as you could and you cling to him for a heartbeat too long, breathing him in, memorizing everything.
“Come back soon,” You whisper, voice cracking.
“I will,” He says, voice low but sure. “I promise.”
You let him go, stepping back as he walked away. You turned away, because you knew if you saw him look back at least once, you’d want to explode.
But in that emptiness, you realize just how much you wish you had more time.
9. You Cannot Stand How Everyone Saw It Before You Did.
It had been about five months since he left. Five months of quiet and five months of never ending text messages that don’t quite fill the space he used to occupy.
You hated it so much. Facetime calls didn’t feel like enough and cheering for his games through a TV screen left you aching.
Because suddenly, everything you’d pushed aside, dismissed, or ignored for years is glaringly obvious. The little moments, the subtle gestures, the way he had quietly been there all along, they weren’t coincidences. And the weight of it hits you hard.
The guilt gnaws at you, sharp and relentless, for not realizing how… amazing he was sooner. For all the times you’d scoffed, rolled your eyes, or sworn you hated him, you’d been wrong. And now, facing the truth, the ache of having spent so long resisting, resenting, and mourning a presence you didn’t even fully understand stabs straight through your chest.
You’d hated him for so long, and now the very thought of losing him, of all the moments that might have slipped by, twists your heart in a way that is entirely, completely, unavoidable.
So much wasted time. You could’ve loved him sooner.
You’re sprawled on the couch, earbuds in, staring blankly at your laptop, pretending to care about emails from your new job but really you were scrolling through your phone for the tenth time in an hour.
You’re expecting Jongseob to swing by, you’ve braced yourself for one of his little surprise snack runs, but your chest feels heavier than usual tonight. Intak had barely messaged today and it unfortunately felt worse than ever.
All this over a man?! EUGH.
Soon, a knock at the door makes you jump.
“Seob?” You murmur, throwing on your hoodie and padding over. He was in town with Shota, and he said they wanted to stop by and pay you a visit.. maybe use Intak’s PlayStation he left behind… or something. Sounds like something they’d do.
Without another word, you open the door, and there was … no Jongseob or Shota..
But your brain practically short circuits..
Instead, there’s him. Intak.
His baseball cap is tipped low, the hair that poked out a little messy. He had a backpack, a carry-on at his side, and he was holding a small paper bag with something warm, probably food, but it doesn’t matter. You blink, trying to convince yourself this is a dream.
“I… what… how?” You manage, your voice breaking halfway.
“I missed you,” He says, stepping closer. His grin is soft this time, no teasing, no games. Just… him. “I know I’m supposed to be in Japan. I know it’s crazy. But I had to see you.”
You stare, your heart stuttering. “You flew… here? Just… for me?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs like it’s nothing, but his eyes give him away. “Couldn’t wait until the next text, couldn’t wait until the next call. I needed—” He pauses, swallows, then smiles nervously. “I just needed to see you...”
Your chest tightens, all the frustration, the distance, the months of missing him flooding back at once. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you missed me,” He teases softly, the easy grin that makes your stomach twist.
“I… did,” You whisper, almost too quiet.
“Good,” He says, stepping forward, bridging the small space between you. “Because I missed you .. way too much.”
For a moment, you can only stare at him, like if you blink he might disappear again. Then, as if the universe decided to be generous to you for once, he leaned in and rested his chin atop your head. The touch is light, almost careful, but it still steals the air from your lungs, sealing the realization that he was actually here.
In that second, everything folds in on itself. The months apart, the distance, the quiet ache of wanting him from far away all condense into one impossibly perfect moment.
“I have something for you.” Intak pulls back just enough to really look at you.
You lift a brow, lips twitching. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs his backpack off his shoulder and digs into the smaller pocket, movements slightly clumsy, like nerves have finally caught up to him. He pulls out a tiny bag and places it in your hand. You glance down at it, confusion settling in for a beat before realization hits.
God. What a loser.
“Pochacco erasers?” You ask, a soft giggle escaping you as your heart flutters stupidly in your chest. It is silly, but it feels personal in a way that makes your throat tighten. A deep-rooted inside joke, which is technically what it is.
He shakes his head. “Not just any Pochacco erasers,” he corrects, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.
“Pochacco erasers from Japan.”
You roll your eyes, laughing out loud now. He slips his hands back around your waist, pulling you in like it is instinct, like he belongs there. He smiles down at you, your laughter clearly his favorite sound.
“You’re such an idiot,” You breathe, still laughing softly, even as tears sting your eyes and threaten to fall.
“I think you love that about me though.” He murmurs, voice low, almost shy.
You jokingly shove him, trying to push him away, but if anything, he grips you tighter and you sigh.
── .✦ 10 Reasons Why You Cannot Fucking Stand Hwang Intak.
PAIRING: Hwang Intak x Fem!Reader
WC, 12.1k!!! smirk
SYNOPSIS: Ever since you were a kid, you were never able to stand Hwang Intak. It was clear to everyone that you hated his guts, and he hated yours. If anyone were to ask why you couldn’t stand him, you could list ten reasons off the top of your head, no hesitation. But to be honest? You weren’t sure when hate stopped being the right word to use.
DISCLAIMER/TROPES: NON idol au, academic!reader, childhood enemies to adult lovers, black cat/golden retriever, he fell first she fell harder! academic rivals … ish .. (squint if u can’t see it k shhhh…) littlebrother!jongseob LMAOO, intak annoying as hell but who is surprised really. just a menace tbh. Cursing , and minor mentions of violence …. bc U hate him that much. sorry i’m such a D1 hater #Srry , ALSO!!! hints of an eating disorder !!!!!! i think thats all the warnings .. Ok yeah
💌 MESSAGE FROM MIKA! hello!!!! first fic on here :3 shoutout to intak. he aight Ig. anyways. this is for my ennybear , we moving up in the world. @u2jwon HELLA AAYYYEEEE. pls i love this type of fic sm and i wanted to try it. it’s so generic and basic but bear with me i got too repetitive i feel. but Wtv. Ok. anyway ! hope u enjoy mamas i love U.
Ever since you were a kid, you were convinced Hwang Intak’s existence was the punishment for something awful you must’ve done in a past life. To you, he was like a disgusting leech you couldn’t quite rip off your skin, no matter how hard you tried. And his persistence doesn’t even begin to cover it. Growing up, it seemed that his goal in life was to piss you off for as long as you breathe on this planet.
And he was extremely good at it.
1. You Cannot Stand How He’s Been Around Since Forever.
You met him in first grade, which already felt unfair.
At only six years old, your entire universe was built on rules. Specifically, the basic customs your mother had taught you. Your crayon had to stay inside the lines of a coloring book. Your coloring utensils had to be returned to the correct slot in perfect rainbow order. Your pencil must be sharpened just right, not too pointy, but never dull. And most importantly, you were absolutely not allowed to share the cute little Pochacco erasers your father had brought home from a business trip in Japan.
Rules felt very important to you. It kept things neat and you liked knowing what to expect, liked the quiet satisfaction of having everything exactly where it belonged. Life was manageable that way. The classroom had structur, the desks were aligned, and the days followed the same schedule.
Everything felt perfect.
And then Hwang Intak walked in and ruined it it all.
The classroom door opened, and in came a boy you had never seen before, escorted by your teacher with a hand resting lightly on his shoulder. He looked very comfortable for someone new. His shoes were scuffed, his uniform slightly wrinkled, and there was a grin on his face like he already knew he would get away with whatever he wanted.
“This is Intak,” Your teacher said brightly. “Everyone say hello.”
“Hello,” He said, far too loud, waving at the class like he was greeting an audience, giggles spreading through your classmates like a wildfire. Your best friend Jiung from across the room laughed.
A frown appeared on your lips immediately. You felt that he was just another boy to be a nuisance with the other boys in your class.
Your heart sank when the teacher pointed to the empty seat next to yours. Of course it was next to you… He dragged the chair out with a loud scrape and plopped down like he claimed his rightful spot. You caught a whiff of him when he leaned too close. Grass, dirt, and something…. metallic?
Whatever it was, it was unpleasant.
Without another word, the boy leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back legs as if it were a cool trick he was trying to show off.
You stared at him, your posture for a six year old almost perfect, somehow offended on a spiritual level. “You are supposed to sit properly,” You said, voice tight.
He turned to you, eyes bright with interest. “Why?”
“Because that’s not how you sit,” You said, like it was obvious.
He squinted at the chair, then at you. “But I am sitting.”
“And it’s not right,” You insisted, pointing at his leaning chair. “You’re gonna fall.”
“I won’t,” He said immediately.
“You will.”
“No I won’t.”
“Yes you will,” You quipped, crossing your arms.
He grinned at that, like this was fun for him. “You’re bossy.”
“No I’m not,” You said. “You’re just wrong.”
That seemed to make him laugh. Not a quiet laugh either. A loud one that made the teacher look over. He scooted his chair closer to yours instead of fixing how he sat.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
You hesitated. “I don’t have to tell you.”
“Ok,” He said easily. “I’m Intak.”
“I know,” You replied. “She said it.”
He nodded like that made sense. “You have funny hair.”
You stiffened. “It’s not funny.”
“It is funny!” He said, reaching for one of your pigtails.
“Don’t touch me!” But too late. He gave it a quick tug.
“Hey—Ow!” You yelled, hand flying to your head. “Stop that!”
The room went quiet.
“Inside voices!” Your teacher said, turning toward you. Her eyebrows pulled together in that disappointed way you hated. “We do not yell in the classroom.”
“But Intak—“ You said quickly, pointing at him.
She shook her head, not even giving you a chance. “Intak is new, and we must be kind.”
That was it. Not a second of listening to you, and not even a question. Just Intak being new, and you being wrong.
You clenched your hands into fists, nails digging into your palms. That was definitely not fair. You were always kind! You followed the rules. You kept your crayons in order and never talked when you were not supposed to. And now you were the one in trouble.
“Intak is mean!” You had tried again, but you were immediately shut down.
Your teacher sighed. “I think we need a moment to calm down.”
Your chest felt tight. You don’t usually feel that either. You’ve only ever felt that way when you almost hurt your little brother and mother had scolded you. This was so not fair! You only told the truth.
“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, even though you weren’t.
“You can sit at the thinking table for a few minutes,” Your teacher said gently.
This was humiliation at its finest, everyone’s gaze was on you now. Your pigtails were slightly disheveled and uneven, your hair clearly out of place. Your eyes burned as you picked up your chair and carried it to the small table in the corner.
That was practically the walk of shame.
You sat there with your arms crossed, staring at the floor, trying very hard not to cry. And when you glanced back up, you saw Intak staring. He gave you a small wave.
You turned away immediately. What’s wrong with him? How could he stay silent as he got you into trouble and have the audacity to wave like you were his friend? He was evil!
Like seriously evil. Because it didn’t stop there.
When your time at the thinking table was over, your day had probably gotten way worse that it already was. This psycho went through your pencil box.... He started using your pencils... and then realization hit your kid brain.
Your Pochacco erasers, ruined...
With the ten minutes he has existed in your proximity, he's managed to pull your hair, get you in trouble for it, touched your things without asking, and poked little holes into your favorite erasers!
So from that moment forward, you had declared Hwang Intak was the worst person you had ever met.
By the end of the week, he was really just fucking everywhere. At recess, he and his newly recruited friends, Taeyang and Keeho, the two loudest and most annoying boys in school mind you, hogged your favorite part of the playground.
Whatever! Who cares about the swing sets anyway?! … Well.. you did.
But you were a determined girl! You found ways to try and avoid him, you made up new games, and tried to enjoy yourself.
Intak just couldn’t let that happen though.
He “accidentally” tripped you on your jump rope, kicked sand at your feet in the sandbox, drew chalk lines over your carefully measured hopscotch squares, and somehow always managed to kick a ball right at your head. He stole your turn on the slide, he and his friends would kick rocks across the pavement, doing absolutely everything and anything to bother you.
Then you learned something truly horrifying.
He was not just in your classroom, not just invading the playground, not just showing up at every corner of the school.
He moved in next door.
You had been blissfully unaware of this even being an option. You thought he only existed at school. And now? He lived in the house right next to yours, like some cruel joke the universe had decided to play.
Your little brother, Jongseob, seemed thrilled. “He’s our neighbor? That’s awesome!” He said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, probably excited that a boy around his age finally lived in your quiet culdesac. “Noona, we can play with him after school!”
You wanted to scream. “No, no, no, no!” You hissed. “He is not someone we play with!”
But this was unfortunately your life and from that day on, the phrase “out of sight, out of mind” became a cruel joke.
By the time you were twelve years old, it was undeniable. Intak had been part of half of your lifespan, and no matter what, he was always around. Every rule you’d ever made for yourself, every plan to avoid trouble, every small victory, he had a way of ruining it.
You truly hated him so, so much.
The nightmare never stopped. It was already a curse in itself that the two of you fell beside each other on every student roster. Your last names sat back to back every time.
And there was also the fact that he lived next door, your bedroom windows identically aligning. Just your luck, right?
Your carefully structured afternoons of school work, snack time, and peaceful moments of silent reading, were constantly interrupted by his laugh and his voice and the mere concept that he would never, ever go away.
He was everywhere and you chose that he was going to be your nemesis forever, so you plot quietly and meticulously. If he’s going to exist in the same air as you, then you will make it a full-time occupation to outdo, outshine, and generally make him rue the day he was born.
Everything escalates by the time you reached junior high, you thought maybe things would change. Maybe growing taller, a little smarter, a little more capable, would finally give you some control. But he’s the taller one now. Faster, louder, and he hasn’t lost that… presence. Teachers pair you together for projects like it’s some cosmic joke. He leans over your shoulder while you write out equations or outlines, whispering, “You know, you could do it easier this way,” and you grit your teeth.
He’s smarter than he looks, and he knows it.
2. You Cannot Stand How Unfortunately Smart He Is.
Your mind had decided early on that he was supposed to be an utter dumbass with the way he behaves. He was good at being annoying and sure, he was great in gym class and was great at sports, baseball and soccer especially. Yet, every now and then, he just proves you spectacularly wrong.
Most of the time, you were the smartest in the room. You aced tests, finished essays first, solved equations before anyone else even picked up their pencil. Teachers praised you and classmates asked for help. You took pride in knowing that no matter the subject, no matter the challenge, you would come out on top.
And then, like some kind of cruel joke, Hwang Intak would raise his hand.
He was never eager, it was never urgent, it was casual. Like he already knew the answer and was deciding whether or not it was worth saying out loud.
He always got it right.
What made it worse was that he enjoyed watching you try to keep your composure while he did it. He leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out, pen spinning lazily between his fingers, eyes flicking to you just long enough to see the way your jaw tightened. He smiled when you hesitated. He laughed quietly when the teacher corrected you instead.
And he never studied.
It actually couldn’t piss you off more, like holy shit, what the hell was his problem??
To you, it felt like watching someone be handed the keys to a multi-million-dollar penthouse and then tossing them aside without a second thought.
So, not only was he a waste of space, he was also a complete waste of a brain!
But of course, when it came to you… just to get under your skin, he always seemed to care just enough. He’d mumble curses to himself when you got praised, when the attention was on you. He seemed bitter when you got the academic awards and he placed second, sometimes even lower.
And you reveled in it! You loved to be better.
It all came to a head during midterms.
You had prepared for weeks. You and Jiung both. He was quizzing you, holding up flashcards, repeating formulas until your brain could recite them in your sleep. Notes rewritten three times until everything was perfectly organized.
You walked into the exam calm, confident, already planning how it would feel to see your name at the top of the class.
Intak strolled in five minutes late.
He dropped into his seat like he had all the time in the world, hair still damp, uniform slightly untucked. He didn’t even bother pulling out a pencil until the test was already on his desk. You watched him from the corner of your eye, annoyed despite yourself.
Within the hour, you had finished first, because of course you did. You double-checked every answer, erased and rewrote one equation just to be safe, then turned it in with your head held high.
Intak finished second.
That alone should have meant nothing. Except he stretched afterward, cracked his knuckles, and shot you a lazy grin like this was light work. It made your stomach twist.
When do I get to strangle him? You thought.
When the tests were handed back the following week, the classroom buzzed with murmurs and disappointed sighs. You flipped yours over, already bracing yourself for anything less than perfect.
Ninety-eight.
You blinked… That was fine! That was still excellent.
Then your teacher cleared his throat. “We had one perfect score this time.”
Your heart skipped. What? Because if it wasn’t you… then who was it? Maybe it was Jiung… right? It makes sense since you guys practically studied the same amount! Or that quiet kid in the back, Wonwoo, who had sticky fingers and was always playing a game on his phone… or maybe it was your peer Yunjin, she was very intelligent and—
“Intak, Congratulations! I was very impressed.”
… Nuh-uh …
The room erupted into whispers. It was likely that everyone expected it to be you. You stared straight ahead, fingers tightening around your paper until it crinkled.
You felt him glance over at you, eyebrows lifting just slightly. “Good effort,” He leaned over and whispered, almost like he meant it as he eyed the 98 on your paper.
You didn’t respond.
The worst part was not the score. The worst part was that you had never seen him open a single textbook in this class, so how the fuck was any of this even possible?
“Really? You think he cheated?” Jiung laughed from your bed as you paced back and forth, still trying to process the fact that he had gotten a perfect score when you hadn’t.
“Oh, I know he cheated,” You snapped, turning on your heel. “There is no way he didn’t.”
Jiung propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with amused disbelief. “I mean his notes are garbage from what I’ve seen.”
You laugh. “He doesn’t even take notes!”
The boy on your bed scratches the back of his head, deep in thought, before he spoke. “You know, come to think of it.. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him open a textbook in that class.”
“That’s exactly my point!” You pointed. “He doesn’t study. He’s never taken anything seriously. He doesn’t even pay attention, Jiung! And somehow he’s out here humiliating me in front of the entire class.”
“Okay, relax.” Jiung hummed, trying not to laugh at you. “But come on,” He said slowly, “Maybe he is just smart.”
You stopped pacing. “Don’t ever say that again.”
“All Im saying is,” Your best friend shrugged. “Some people are annoyingly good at things without trying.”
“He’s the bane of my existence,” You muttered, collapsing onto your desk chair. “If I have to suffer through quizzes and practice problems, he should too.”
Jiung laughed again. “You’re taking this very personally.”
“Because it is personal!” You shot back. “He knows how much I hate him and he knew exactly what he was doing! Did you see the way he looked at me? Like he was waiting for a reaction out of me.”
Jiung raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk on his face. “Maybe he wanted to impress you.”
You scoffed. “Absolutely not.”
And later that night, as you stared at your ceiling, you couldn’t stop replaying the moment. The way he had glanced over at you.
The quiet sincerity in his voice when he said, “Good effort.” It was almost… genuine.
Girl whatever, there’s no way it was.
But it unsettled you more than the score ever could.
From then on, the competition only intensified. Every quiz, every assignment, every question became a silent war. You worked harder, stayed up later and refused to let him get ahead again.
And Intak noticed. He started watching you more closely in class. Started leaning over during partner work to point out your mistakes. Started offering help you absolutely did not ask for.
“You did that wrong,” He whispered once, tapping your notebook in Biology.
“No I didn’t,” You shot back, and you were right. He was just trying to piss you off.
It was really just arrogance. Intak liked knowing he could get under your skin. He liked winning and you refused to consider the possibility that he was paying attention to you for any other reason.
Because if Hwang Intak actually cared what you thought of him, then that would be far worse than losing first place by two points.
By the time tenth grade came around, you were confident that everything would balance out. You finished last year as the number one student of your class, Intak somehow second.
You thought that maybe academics were where you continued to shine and he’d falter in his department. That would be fair. That would make sense. People like Hwang Intak were not supposed to have everything.
Anyways, you were painfully wrong… Again!
It was actually even worse!
He became the youngest varsity baseball captain the school had ever seen. It was annoying enough that he had made varsity the year before, but now? Now it was just getting ridiculous how much the universe seemed to work in his favor.
3. You Cannot Stand How Good At Baseball He Is.
He was the type of player who should have nothing but a mediocre six pack and a disgustingly large ego. He ran across the bases during games and did sit ups in gym class without ever looking winded. He hit homeruns like it was the easiest thing in the world, and carried himself with a confidence that bled into the hallways, as if it were his personal responsibility to remind everyone just how soooo freaking awesome he was.
Barf.
Your life, by this point, had become a constant struggle between duty and survival. You were on student council which meant attending every single home game, which also meant being trapped at the field, watching the entire student body go wild every time Intak swung at the ball.
And you had perfected the art of glaring in silence.
Intak noticed this. Of course he noticed, he always noticed! He’s just soooo perfect!!! Jesus christ, get a load of this guy.
The way you slouched back in annoyance whenever he stood at third base, ready to score. The way your little brother and his friends would come to games, despite still being in junior high, and cheered louder than anyone else, waving their hands in the air like they were Intak’s own little club of fan girls when he slid into home.
And worst of all? You refused to admit but fuck, he makes it look so damn cool. Every throw from short stop, every base hit perfectly timed, that infuriating grin on his face like he had already won the universe, it was all effortless, and it made your blood boil.
You tried to convince yourself it was just luck or skill or maybe he hired an Etsy witch. That all of this talent had nothing to do with him. Obviously, it did. But whatever.
You were a hater, and you stood by it. And that’s okay!
While you were cursing Intak away in what you wished was a death note, the rest of the school practically worshipped him. Girls squealed whenever he sprinted across the bases. Boys slapped him on the back, calling him a star, a natural… “the goat.” That last one came from Shota, and the look you gave him could have burned a hole right through his forehead.
You wanted to vomit every time someone said his name. Even Jiung occasionally fell victim to praising Intak, leaving you to stew in disgust while he charmed everyone else effortlessly.
And then there were the little things. Whenever he scored, he would point and send a wink to Jongseob in the bleachers, who was always, always, not only sat with his friends, but right next to you. The action made you brother laugh uncontrollably as if they shared some secret, private joke.
Everything was pissing you off, and you needed a moment to yourself. Maybe resorting to student council duties will help, you thought.
“I’m gonna help clean concessions,” You said abruptly, nudging your brother to let him know you were stepping away. He nodded. “Okay, see you later,” He replied, though his attention was already elsewhere, eyes glued to the field as the game was approaching the last inning.
After games, you always stood in the same spot. Jongseob tended to run onto the field afterward to hang out with his hyungs, and you had learned long ago that it was easier to wait at the bike racks near the west gate, under a flickering light pole that buzzed like it might give out any second. It was an unspoken agreement: you waited, he found you, and then you went home together.
It was like that in the mornings too. Make sure he’s awake, leave the house, and make sure he got to school on time. It was no hassle anyways, his school was a block down from yours.
So when the field finally started to empty and he still hadn’t shown up, irritation and concern were the first things to creep in. You checked your watch… it was still early enough, so it should be fine right?
Still, you called once. Nothing. Then twice before it went straight to voicemail. You called a third time, pressing your thumb a little harder into the screen, holding your breath as it rang.
Still nothing.
Your stomach tightened. Jongseob was only two years younger. He could handle himself! But you were responsible, and it was your job to care… And you cared a lot.
You scanned the parking lot, the bleachers, the groups of parents and players lingering around. You even walked closer to the field, craning your neck like that might somehow make him appear.
Maybe he was with Shota, you reasoned. That made sense. They did that sometimes. You exhaled slowly, forcing your shoulders to relax. He was fine. He had to be.
By the time you finally boarded the bus, an hour went by before that. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep, dark blue. The seat beneath you felt colder than usual as you stared out the window, jaw tight, replaying every “what-if” you had promised yourself not to think about.
When you finally got off and started the walk home, your nerves were frayed. And it didn’t help that your parents were out of town, meaning it was just you and Jongseob.
You were hoping you’d come home and see he miraculously got home before you but.. still nothing. Hours slipped by, and your fingers trembled, anxiety clawing its way up your spine.
Your brother was basically missing, and you didn’t know what to do.
You had continued to call his phone, and it automatically went to voicemail. You texted Jiung, wondering if he knew anything, and Shota didn’t pick up. Some of Jongseob’s classmates were no use either and now you were completely freaking out.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, so the next thing you did was go next door, and knock. But before you could do that, a car pulled into the street, and your heart stopped.
Jongseob was laughing as he got out of the car, backpack slung low on one shoulder, walking along the pavement like he had not just shaved years off your life. Next to him was a familiar figure, keys dangling from his fingers, fast food bag swinging lazily at his side.
Of course.
You didn’t even hesitate. You stepped off Intak’s porch almost immediately, letting your relief and frustration tangle into one sharp, bitter laugh.
4. You Cannot Stand How Much Your Little Brother Loves Him.
“Noona!” Jongseob beamed the second he spotted you. “Intak drove me home!”
“Seob?” You took a deep breath, not wanting to snap right away. “Where have you been?!”
He blinked before he could speak, almost as if he was taken aback by your tone. It was astonishing how oblivious your brother was to your genuine concern and irritation.
“That’s my bad, sorry. His phone died, and we couldn’t find you after the game,” Intak butted in, entirely too casual as he stepped closer, like he belonged there.
“I was standing where I always stand,” You quipped, eyes burning into him before flicking them back to your brother. “I was so worried! It’s been hours! Do you have any idea how terrifying that is?!”
“I’m sorry, I—” Jongseob hesitated, then lifted the bag like it was a peace offering.
“Relax, look at him, he’s fine! He was with me.”
You laugh. “Oh, like that makes it any better?” Your words were stern. Intak scoffed through a smirk, rolling his eyes.
“We went and got some food. We were starving and he treated me? We hung out after. He did a good deed.” Seob spoke up. “I don’t get why you’re so mad?!”
Your breath hitched. The way he talked back caught you completely off guard. You guys rarely argued, and he always respected you as an older sister… so this was different.
A sharp, incredulous laugh escaped you before you could stop it. "Because you’re my responsibility, Seob!" You stepped closer, fists clenched at your sides, voice shaking with frustration. "It’s not just about you! It’s the principle! Not even telling me where you were! I would’ve let you go if you just asked, even if I don’t trust him!”
Seob’s jaw tightened. "I’m not a kid," He muttered, voice low but defiant, eyes flashing. "I can take care of myself."
"You just turned thirteen!" You snapped back, stepping right up into his space, your voice dropping to a dangerous edge. "Mom and dad are in another country and I had to spend the last four hours freaking out because I thought I screwed up as an older sister!“
Intak shifted uneasily, realizing the intensity of the situation as he glanced between you two. "Hey, maybe tone it down—"
"No!" You shot back, ignoring him. "Don’t you dare try to calm this down when you think it’s okay to drive my little brother around when you barely got your permit a week ago." You snapped towards Intak before looking at Seob, heart hammering and voice breaking slightly. "Do you even realize how reckless this all was?"
Seob flinched at the accusation, and for a moment, the anger in your eyes seemed to pierce through him. Silence fell, thick and suffocating, broken only by the rapid thump of your heart. His hands trembled slightly at his sides, not out of fear, but out of frustration. "I wasn’t trying to make you worry!" He shot back, voice tight, but controlled. "I was fine! You always overreact!"
You said nothing in response. Because if you opened your mouth, you were pretty sure something unforgivable would come out.
“I’m sorry,” Intak blurted, like the words had been stuck in his chest. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that only made him look more human, and more out of place in the middle of this storm.
“For all of this,” He added, gesturing vaguely at the tension crackling between you and Seob, at the weight of worry and frustration hanging in the air like smoke.
He glanced at Jongseob, eyes earnest, almost pleading. “Listen to your sister,” He said softly, leaning just slightly forward, the seriousness in his tone cutting through the earlier casualness. “She was just worried. That’s all. You should understand, and she has a point.”
Seob’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking to you, then back to the floor, like he wasn’t sure whether to be angry, defensive, or grateful. The silence stretched between the three of you, thick and fragile, every heartbeat amplified, as if the air itself was holding its breath.
Without another word, Jongseob gave you the cold shoulder, brushing by you and walking toward the house.
You sighed. This was the last thing you wanted, you never liked fighting with him, he was your world.
“Look—“
“Don’t talk to me.” You shook your head at Intak before following after Jongseob.
This was your last straw. Well. One of them. You had a bad habit of declaring every straw the last. But fighting with your brother was something you couldn’t stand at all.
You absolutely hated how Jongseob listened to him, and not you.
He somehow managed to captivate everyone around him, win over friends, charm strangers, and do it all without breaking a sweat. Everyone, that is, except for you of course. You stayed firmly planted in your role as the sole person on earth who wanted to cut his throat.
It was ridiculous honestly because you knew the second Intak wormed his way into your little brother’s life when you were kids, that it would never end well for your sanity.
One day, Jongseob was perfectly normal!!! The next, he was Intak’s biggest fan, following him around like a lost puppy with stars in his eyes and as if that loser hung the moon.
He really isn’t even all that!! Or.. that’s what you’ve always tried to convince yourself.
Long story short, your brother clearly looked up to Intak and in return, he leaned into it. He taught Jongseob how to swing a bat properly in his back yard, exaggerated every single movement like it was a professional tutorial and laughing when your brother tripped over his own feet trying to attempt a slide.
He showed up at your house uninvited, ball and gloves in hand, asking, “Is Seob home?” like he belonged there. Your parents adored him immediately, even your father, who first knew Intak as the boy who ruined your Pochacco erasers.
To them, he was, kind, helpful, and respectful, “A cutie handsome boy…” is what your mom said. In their eyes he was the kind boy next door who offered to carry groceries and remembered to say thank you.
You wanted to scream.
And it only got more infuriating than before when Jongseob made varsity his first year too.
You were so happy for him! He was entering high school and he was getting older, doing what he’s grown to love! But god was the captain still the biggest pain in your ass imaginable.
Jongseob came home from baseball practice one evening, backpack bouncing, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. “Hyung helped me during drills today!” He announces, grinning like he just won the World Cup. “He says I’m improving and could probably be better than Keeho in a week tops.”
You freeze in the kitchen, spatula in hand. The Intak dickriding will always tick you off. It’s like he pays your brother to say these things at this point.
“He’s a great leader,” Jongseob continues, oblivious to the storm brewing behind your eyes. “He deserves to be captain. And today, this time he showed me this trick for throwing, and I—”
“Stop,” You groan, trying to sound calm. “Stop telling me about him.”
“But I thought you’d want to know…” Jongseob says, genuinely confused.
Of course, you want to know.. but not when everything revolves around … Mr. Barf-face. You want to support your little brother, see him succeed, but not when the circumstances drive you insane. Not when the reason he’s improving is because of that boy, who somehow wormed himself into your academics, your home, your family, and well… your entire life.
Now, Intak shows up at your house for “check-ins” with Jongseob. He sprawls on the living room couch, casually tossing a baseball back and forth, chatting with your brother like he’s always belonged inside what’s supposed to be your safe haven.
Through the months, Keeho and Taeyang began to come over also, eating the snacks you bought for yourself and Jongseob, rearranging furniture without asking, laughing like it’s their own home. Even Shota comes over to hang. Everyone just looovessss Hwang Intak!!!!!
And him? He knows exactly what he’s doing.
He wins over your little brother. Check.
He wins over Jiung, who occasionally disappears mid-study session with a shrug and, “Intak asked if I wanna play Mario Kart..” …. Check.
He wins over your grandma after she stopped by to drop off her homemade tubs of kimchi. Check. Like what??
And not only has he won over your mother and father, but he’s won their … “blessing.”
And that alone speaks for itself. He needs to go to hell.
From casually asking about their day, making small talk, offering to help with lifting or cleaning, slipping in jokes that make them laugh, all while grinning at you like you’re supposed to be impressed.. or furious? Maybe both.
He thinks it’s sooo funny, while you’re stuck in the hallway, picking at the edge of your fingertips, feeling simultaneously enraged and helpless, wondering how one person could have so effectively taken over everything you live for without even breaking a sweat.
At this point, it really wasn’t just Jongseob. His charm was universal, and everybody fell for it. Everything about it just felt like the world was pulling a big prank on you, like it was some sick joke you weren’t in on.
Because genuinely, what the fuck was so special about Hwang Intak? A question you’ve been asking since you were six years old, and have yet to find the answer to.
Your family loved him. Your friends loved him. Teachers loved him. Classmates left and right loved him. Neighbors loved him. Even the corner store clerk loved him!
Attention was on him at all costs. Sure, you were praised at school, but not in the way he was praised. Teachers adored you in the strict, has high standards for you way, and they adored him in the favoritism, fond sigh kind of way. They smiled when he raised his hand. They let him talk a little longer than everyone else and said his name like it carried warmth.
“Hwang Intak is such a bright boy,” They’d say. “So polite.” As if he wasn’t the same guy who threw crumpled paper balls at the back of your head a week ago.
So like actually, what fucking Etsy witch did he hire.
You didn’t even know where to begin when it came to the neighbors. He mowed Mrs. Kim’s lawn without being asked. Helped Mr. Park do heavy lifting in his garage. Always bowed properly, always smiled, always said hello like he meant it. People waved at him when he walked by, and maybe sometimes they waved at you too, but it felt like it was because they felt bad.
It didn’t make sense to you. Hwang Intak was never the type to do things for others without expecting something in return. He was selfish.. so you knew this was just olympic-level ass kissing.
How dependable and sweet, perfect little Hwang Intak is!!!
Everybody loved him!!!! It was a known fact. And another known fact was that you were the only one who fucking hated him!
Which was why it made absolutely no sense that you were the only one he seemed interested in provoking. The only one he argued with. The only one he teased. The only one he lingered around.
Out of everyone begging for his attention, you were the one he wasted his breath on.
He was supposed to hate you, because doesn’t he? Hwang Intak always teased you, he always found ways to piss you off and ruin everything. He was supposed to snap back, roll his eyes, walk away. Ignore you the way you ignored everyone else. But instead, he lingered, talked, and teased.
He wasted his breath on you when he can quite literally spend it anywhere else.
5. You Cannot Stand How He Never Leaves You Alone.
By the end of senior year, Intak stops pretending his presence is accidental.
It is in the way he waits when he has no reason to. How he stands half-turned in classroom doorways long after the bell rings, backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, like he is giving you time to notice him leaving. It is in how he slows his pace to match yours in the hallway, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his arm when he strolls past you.
He does not touch you, he does not crowd you, he hovers just within reach, just within your awareness, a constant irritation that makes your skin prickle. Too close to be comfortable, not close enough to justify telling him to move.
You catch him leaning against lockers when you stop to talk to Jiung, watching with that lazy, unreadable expression, as if he is waiting his turn. When you finally glance his way, he straightens, eyebrows lifting slightly like he has been caught doing nothing wrong at all.
“What?” He asks.
“You have a staring problem,” You shoot back.
He smiles like that is the answer he wanted.
It feels intentional, every single second of it. It’s like he decided that this is where he belongs now. Right there, in your space, testing how long you will tolerate him before you break.
“Fucks sake,” You mumble to yourself one afternoon, snapping your locker shut, “For someone who hates me, you spend an awful lot of time hovering.”
He tilts his head slightly, considering you. “Who said I hate you?”
“You did,” You scoff, immediately. “Multiple times.” You think of every overheard comment, every careless remark, every moment where your name came from his mouth, never kindly. “Or did you forget all of that already?”
He hums, unconvinced. “That’s not how I remember it.”
That answer alone makes you want to shove him.
By the time senior year is ending, this is just how things are.
Intak appears mid-conversation like he has been summoned. You will be talking to Jiung about homework or weekend plans when he drifts over, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking between the two of you like he is waiting for a pause.
“Did you see the way Mr. Han tripped over the pile of papers?”
Jiung laughs awkwardly, you stay silent becore your best friend replies. “Yeah, actually. It was funny.”
You glare at him. “Why are you even—”
“Just making conversation,” He says, shrugging like it was an obvious fact.
Shit like this kept happening. You would stand up to grab something, turn around, and now he is in your seat.
“Get up,” You say flatly.
He leans back. “You walked away.”
“For two seconds.”
“Still walked away.”
“Intak.”
“Nah.”
You end up standing the entire class period out of pure spite, refusing to ask again. He watches you the whole time like this is the most entertaining thing he has seen all week.
Then there was the tapping. A knuckle against your shoulder in the hallway, two fingers at your elbow when you are not looking, a light nudge when he brushes by in the halls.
You whirl around every time. “What is wrong with you?”
He lifts his hands innocently. “Just checking.”
“Checking what?”
“That you’re still mean,” He replies, amused as you huff in annoyance.
What episode does a grand piano fall on him? You thought to yourself.
And it wasn’t just the physical closeness. It was the way his presence slotted itself into your routine, into your periphery. He was always there when you didn’t want him to be. Smirking at you when you had to clench your jaw to ignore him. He always managed to make you react, whether you wanted to or not.
Hwang Intak was always annoying and it seriously has gotten so much worse than before. You never even thought that was possible.
He wasn’t just invading your bubble anymore, he had moved in, unpacked, and was rearranging the furniture for maximum irritation.
Graduation finally arrived as a long-awaited relief. Caps soared into the air, speeches droned on, and cameras flashed relentlessly.
You stood at the podium, your heart hammering while you delivered the valedictorian speech you had spent weeks rehearsing in front of Jiung. (He cried each time.) Every carefully chosen word, every pause, every look at the audience, all meant to impress, inspire, and leave a mark.
And that’s what you do. Applause filled the auditorium as you stepped down, chest still high with the pride of being top of your class, the culmination of years of study, late nights, and stubborn perfectionism.
Sound the alarms! Because thank god it wasn’t Hwang Intak.
When you break free from the crowd of graduates towards the end of the ceremony, Jongseob’s hand finds yours almost immediately, tugging you toward him like he’s physically tethering you to stay as if you leave tomorrow.
Relief washes over you as you sink into the familiarity of your little brother’s presence, and for a moment, the loud celebration of students and upbeat music blaring through speakers feels manageable.
Then your moment of peace shatters.
Jongseob jerks free of your arms, eyes lighting up as he darts toward his “hyung.” … More like HYUCK!
You watch helplessly as the two of them collide in the middle of the crowd, Jongseob bouncing in excitement while Intak’s grin stretches impossibly wide, like he owns the world.
You clench your fists, muttering under your breath. I can’t wait until I move away. A whole new campus, thousands of students I don’t know. Finally, I can escape him.
Except, your parents, and his mother, did not let you forget that the possibility was slim at best.
“Oh, so you’ll both be at the same university?” Your mom had said, smiling a little too knowingly at the dinner table a few months back. “It’ll be so fun! It’s nice to have a familiar face. You can spend lots of time together!”
His mother had been equally gleeful, hands folded over her chest. “It’s perfect! They offered him a spot on the baseball team. It’s just the right distance for independence, but close enough for visits. You two will come visit together, yes?”
And Jongseob, bless him, had piped up with a grin so wide it should have been illegal. “I can take the train to come see you both, stay with Intak, spend time with my sister! It’s perfect.” He said with a smirk.
God, knock it off and SHUT UP.
You had ground your teeth so hard it felt like they were about to fall out. They were all right, and yet every word felt like salt in the wound. The thought that Intak could still appear in your life so effortlessly made your stomach twist.
Still, you clung to your fantasy: maybe the crowds, the new faces, and the sprawling campus.. it might swallow him up.
Maybe for once, you could breathe without the constant awareness that Hwang Intak was lurking somewhere, ready to ruin your carefully curated peace.
Well, too bad.
Reality hit faster than you could blink. He was everywhere you didn’t want him to be. Your general education classes, same discussion groups… your dorm hall?
His room was right across from yours. Close enough to hear his laugh through the hall, close enough for you to catch him lingering just outside your door as if he had a reason to be there… he didn’t.
You discovered this inconvenient truth on move-in day. You and your family were hauling boxes up the stairs, juggling bags and luggage and orders of fast food, when out of the corner of your eye you spotted a familiar figure. Leaning against a stack of storage containers like he had all the time in the world, arms folded, grin stretched impossibly wide as he mingled with unfamiliar faces, already making friends.
Intak. Of course.
Behind him, his mother was chatting animatedly with your own, both women smiling like the universe had gifted them the perfect coincidence.
Jongseob, completely unfazed, waved at his hyung and ran straight to him. You froze, luggage in hand, jaw tightening.
“Neighbors for a thirteenth year in a row?,” He approaches, glancing at your door number.
“A dream of mine,” You reply snarkily.
“Yeah,” He replies easily. “Im sure.”
You rolled your eyes, muttering something under your breath about never getting a moment’s peace, and continued moving in, dragging your suitcase a little faster, feeling his gaze linger just long enough to make your skin crawl.
And you knew, like you’d known since first grade, that he was not going to make anything easy.
And you were right.
Somehow, no matter how carefully you timed your exits or how fast you walked, he always managed to fall into step beside you on the way to class. Like it was a coincidence and wasn’t deliberate at all.
He would comment on the weather, complain about a professor, ask if you had finished an assignment he knew you had already done. There was always an excuse to talk.
And it wasn’t as if he lacked other people to occupy him. He had his own friends now, loud and easy and everywhere. He went out with his roommate, with other guys from the hallway, with Keeho and Taeyang whenever they came and visited. He was busy, popular, and wanted. As per usual.
But he still found the time to bother only you.
It felt like if he went five seconds without interacting with you, he might explode. A comment tossed over his shoulder as you passed, a knock on your door for the stupidest reason, or a sudden appearance at the table you sat at in the dining hall because you thought it was far enough away.
It was… strange.
You tried not to think about it too hard. Tried not to acknowledge the way your chest tightened every time you sensed him nearby, the way your focus faltered when his attention locked onto you so easily.
There was no reason for it. No explanation that didn’t sound ridiculous.
And there’s no way it was because of what your mind had dared to suggest for half a second.
No way.
One night on an early October evening, there was a knock on your door. You freeze for a second, eyes narrowing as you shared silent glances with your roommate.
You give in and open the door to Intak.
“Think you left this in the lounge,” He says, holding up your notebook like it was the token for a reward.
“Didn’t ask you to grab it,” You reply, leaning against your door frame while refusing to take it immediately.
“You would’ve freaked out if it was never returned,” He says like he knows you. He holds it out closer, and you finally snatch it from him.
“Okay, was that all?” You ask, keeping your tone flat.
“No, actually I was wondering—,” He starts talking, just enough to make your stomach twist.
“Nah, I’m good.” You cut him off and close the door in his face, slamming it lightly enough that it’s pointed but not dramatic.
“Not even a thank you at least?” He calls through the door, voice teasing and a small breathy laugh followed after.
You roll your eyes, exasperated, but can’t stop the small tug in your chest. You open the door slightly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thank you,” You say, voice clipped, then shut it firmly again.
Even in that simple exchange, the tension had a buzzy feeling to it. And you hated it.
“So, who is that?” Your roommate asks, looking up from her phone. She’d notice how often you two would interact throughout the last couple weeks, she’s seen him linger all the time.
“Nobody important,” You mutter immediately, already turning back to your desk like the conversation is over. You drop your notebook a little harder than necessary and pretend very seriously to rearrange your pens.
She hums, the sound thoughtful. Then, casually, “Well, he’s cute.”
You sigh, dropping into your chair and scrubbing your hands over your face. Of course she thinks that. Everyone freaking thinks that. There is not a single universe in which someone meets Hwang Intak and does not immediately decide he’s charming, handsome, amazing, or all of the above.
And no shit she isn’t the only one.
It starts subtly at first.
Some of your hallway neighbors would linger near his door for a little too long, knocking to bother him with some nonsense. Soft giggles followed by his voice would trickle through the door when you’re trying to study. Sometimes you’d run into them, some lingering by the girl’s communal bathroom, waiting for it to open, you’d see their arm looped through his, smiling like they’ve won something while you’re trying to go down to the laundry room, basket in hand.
Some have left early in the morning, slipping past you in the hallway while you’re half-awake and clutching your flask of coffee.
It reminded you of high school.
You remember glancing out your bedroom window and seeing him help someone climb in, hand warm on her wrist. Or catching sight of a girl sneaking out through their back door while you were pretending not to look.
You’d scoff, roll your eyes, tell yourself it was none of your business and it didn’t mean anything.
And it still doesn’t mean anything now.
If anything, it should have been proof. Proof that whatever strange, intrusive thoughts had tried to take root in your head were completely wrong. He didn’t like you like that. He just liked bothering you and he liked attention. He liked people and liked being wanted.
You were just convenient.
Except he still notices when you skip class. When you look exhausted, eyes dull and posture stiff, like you pulled another all-nighter out of stubbornness. When you seem anxious from what was likely another late night walk back from the library, keys threaded tightly between your fingers. Even when you forget to eat a proper meal and try to pass it off like it doesn’t matter.
“Dining hall?” He asks one night, falling into step beside you like it’s muscle memory.
“No, library,” You reply coldly, gaze fixed straight ahead, pretending you don’t feel the way his presence settles too easily at your side.
He slows, just a fraction. “Did you go already?”
You roll your eyes. “I will later.”
“It’s already late,” He points out, glancing at the time on his phone. “And it closes in an hour.” There’s a pause, then softer, almost careful. “Come on. Just grab a bite. I’ll walk you after.”
“I don’t need an escort,” You mutter.
“I know,” He says quickly. “Just thought I’d .. offer.”
You glance at him despite yourself. His expression is annoyingly earnest, brows slightly knit like he’s actually worried you’ll say no. It makes something twist uncomfortably in your chest.
“You’re annoying,” You say.
He grins, relieved. “That’s not a no.”
A sigh escapes your mouth, already changing direction. He follows, matching your stride like he always does, like this was never even a question. But then you stop walking. “Why do you care?”
He stops and looks at you, expression unreadable. Then he shrugs. “Habit.”
6. You Cannot Stand How He Assumes You Need Him.
You scoff, turning back toward the path. “That’s not an answer.”
He falls into step again anyway. Of course he does. “Sure it is.”
“No, it’s not,” You shot back. “I didn’t ask you to look out for me. I didn’t ask you to keep tabs on whether I eat or sleep or go to class.”
“I know,” He says, calm in that infuriating way that makes it feel like you’re the only one worked up. “You would never ask me to anyway.”
You hated that. Hated the implication tucked inside it.
The dining hall lights glow ahead of you, bright and loud and full of people, and yet you feel weirdly exposed walking beside him. Like he’s seeing too much. Like he always has.
“I can function just fine without you, thank you very much,” you add, quieter now.
He exhales through his nose, a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “I know.”
“Then stop,” you say. “Stop acting like you care and stop doing things for me as if you’re trying to make up for thirteen years of being a menace.”
He doesn’t answer right away. He opens the door for you instead, holding it just long enough that you hesitate before walking through. You don’t thank him. He doesn’t comment on it.
Inside, he grabs a tray like it’s automatic. He doesn’t ask what you want, doesn’t push food onto your plate. He just stays close, leaning against the counter while you fill your plate with the bare minimum you can get away with.
“See?” You say, gesturing vaguely. “I’m fine.”
He hums, unconvinced, staring at your toast with jam with fries on the side. “That’s a sad dinner.”
“Mind your business.”
He shook his head. “Don’t want to.”
“If I got a burger, would that make you shut up?”
Intak shrugged. “Eat what you want, I don’t control you.”
You glare and roll your eyes at him, but he’s smiling, soft and familiar, like arguing with you is his favorite pastime.
A burger ends up on your plate anyways and the two of you sit together without meaning to. Not across from each other, but side by side, knees almost touching under the table. He eats like he always does, fast and careless, while you pick at your food.
“Wanna try this?” He asked suddenly, holding out a forkful of his salmon and rice like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You didn’t like your burger, and your fries went cold. You let out a small, reluctant sigh, hesitating before nodding. “Sure.”
The first bite surprises you. It was way better than you expected. “Oh… wow. That is good,” You admit, swallowing quickly.
He tilts his head, smirk tugging at his lips. “You want it? Because I might just get a burger instead.”
You raise an eyebrow, a little daring now. “You can have mine,” you suggest, leaning slightly closer. “I don’t think I’m gonna eat this anyway.”
He grins, eyes lighting up, like he’s won some quiet victory. “Deal,” He says, effortlessly taking a bite of your burger before you can second-guess yourself.
Even as you watch him eat, side by side at the table, there’s a small, stubborn flutter in your chest, the kind that makes you shift in your seat and pretend you’re annoyed. But you aren’t really.. not entirely.
And that basically sums up how your first year of university with Intak went. He somehow inserted himself into your life, grounding you and checking in on you when you didn’t ask.
It didn’t happen all at once, there were weeks of petty annoyances, sometimes grocery runs or quiet breakfasts meals in the dining hall. There were even moments of him showing up exactly when you thought you’d be alone in the library.
But somewhere between late-night study sessions in the lounge and the two of you navigating group projects, the sharp edges of your irritation softened, just a little.
Intak learned your routines almost instinctively. He knew when you’d be running low on coffee, and somehow, a cup would appear on your desk before you even noticed. He noticed when you were tired, or when you went a little too long without eating, and would corner you with an extra sandwich or a bag of chips.
You would snap at him, of course. “I don’t need this,” You’d say, pushing it away. And he would just grin that lazy grin, shrugging like he was utterly unconcerned, but then he’d leave the food anyway.
One night, there was a campus party. Loud music, throngs of people, the kind of place you hated but couldn’t completely avoid. Some of the friends you made in your stats class invited you and Intak insisted you branch out and have fun.
So you did. He said he’d go and meet you there but he was no where to be found. You had tried to stay on the outskirts, quietly sipping an alcoholic punch, scanning the room for exits. But, within minutes, Intak was there, sliding in beside you like he belonged.
“You came,” You muttered, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, thought I’d make sure you didn’t kill someone” He said lightly, his tone teasing but calm. He didn’t hover over you or demand attention, just stayed close enough that you felt it.
Then came the moment. The music was loud, the bass rattling your chest, and people jostled past with drinks in hand. You were edging toward the quieter side of the room when a guy, too confident for his own good, clearly riding on bravado, cut in front of you, leaning a little too close, drink half-raised. Your stomach twisted and you froze, instinctively taking a step back.
“Hey,” Intak said, low and calm, stepping into the space between you and the guy. His shoulder brushed yours, grounding you, and he didn’t even look confrontational. Just steady, present, deliberate. “She’s good.”
The guy blinked, muttered something incoherent, and wandered off. You stared at Intak, chest tight, before looking away. He didn’t smirk or brag. He just stayed close, quietly making sure you were safe, and for a second, it hit you that he actually cared.
In that moment, everything shifted. It wasn’t about him being annoying anymore. Not just that. He could be infuriating, obnoxious, loud, and relentless, but now you realized there was a part of him that was quietly present, quietly watching, quietly making sure you were safe. No grand gestures, no showmanship. Just him being there and it was enough.
After that night, things changed in ways you couldn’t even name at first. He had convinced you to give him your number so he could send texts to check up on you, see if you’d taken care of yourself. He’d offer to help carry your books, with a subtle insistence on going to the library so he could walk you back to your dorm if it was late.
You snapped at him occasionally, because old habits die hard, because Hwang Intak was still Hwang Intak, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, you stopped dreading it. Not because you had to, not because it made sense, but because… you didn’t hate it.
It was infuriating, exhausting, and completely unavoidable, but it was also… comforting.
Maybe he was … somewhat your friend at this point?
The next three years of university flew by in a blur. Endless classes, complicated assignments, late-night study sessions, thesis after thesis, it often felt like you were drowning in work with no escape. And yet, through it all, Intak was there.
He slipped into your routines casually, even when he juggled his own student athlete schedule. He showed up at the right time, offering help you didn’t ask for, and always making his presence felt.
Life was actually … better with him around.
Which was weird because, for thirteen years, you felt that it would have been way better without him.
Intak learned everything about you, your little quirks, the way you always overpacked your backpack, how you could barely function without an energy drink after 10 a.m., how you muttered curses under your breath for hours whenever a professor screwed you over and gave you an unfair grade.
He helped you move in and out of apartments throughout the years, navigating early adulthood with you. Through long commutes, trips home for the holidays, early-morning runs through campus (a new hobby you had picked up), he would always be there.
And even with all his teasing, the tapping on your shoulder in quiet coffee shops, his little challenges that made your pulse spike, the smirks that were both infuriating and impossible to ignore, he was steady. Consistently and reliably, he was there.
It was clear you had grow very fond of him.
Everything started small. Sitting beside him in the lounge, laughing at some stupid meme he sent on Instagram, or nudging him when he got too cocky about an assignment.
Then more daring: playful arguments on your couch, facetime calls filled with giggles that lingered longer than they should, longing looks that you pretended didn’t exist. It was ridiculous, utterly insane… and fun.
Soon, flirtation followed. At first, it was subtle, his shoulder brushing against yours as you both reached for the same textbook, the way he’d hug you with a big smile once he saw you after his baseball games, or the way he would “accidentally” rest his hand near yours on the library table, the smirk that always meant he knew exactly what he was doing.
It was kinda pathetic though….
Hwang Intak was pathetic.
7. You Cannot Stand How Much of a Loser He Really Is.
It was clear he had an interest in you. You tried to avoid it but he made it impossible. He was such a loser when it came to you. He got shy. He got nervous. The Hwang Intak, star athlete, notorious for getting girls… got nervous around you.
He would flirt with you aimlessly in the most pitiful ways. He’d make a move and somehow it would backfire or he chickened out.
One evening though, everything … sorta changed for good.
You had gone to one of the biggest playoff games of the season, crammed into the bleachers with a crowd that felt louder than anything you had experienced all year. The air buzzed with anticipation, with chanting and clapping and the constant hum of nerves. Intak was starting, which you told yourself didn’t matter. You told yourself that a lot of things about him didn’t matter.
But it mattered.
The game was tight from the start. Every pitch had your heart lodged somewhere in your throat, every swing pulling a breath out of you that you didn’t realize you were holding. When he stepped up to bat, the crowd surged, and you felt it ripple through you too. Every play he made sent the stands into a frenzy, noise crashing down like a wave.
He looked unfairly good in his uniform. It was enough to make you feel a little sick.
When Intak crushed the ball for a three run homer, the stadium exploded. The sound was deafening. You were on your feet before you even knew you’d stood up, cheering until your throat burned, pride blooming so fast and so hard you had to swallow it down.
They won. And you were so, stupidly proud.
By the time the crowd spilled out of the stadium, your ears were ringing and your hands ached from clapping. You hovered near the player exit, pretending you were just lingering, definitely not waiting. You barely had time to register movement before a familiar voice cut through the noise.
He looked flushed and breathless, hair damp from what was probably a quick locker room shower and his eyes bright.
You didn’t even finish saying his name before he pulled you into a hug so tight your feet lifted clean off the ground.
You laughed in surprise, fingers curling into the back of his sweater as the leftover adrenaline buzzed between you both. “Okay!” You protested, laughing into his shoulder. “You actually stink. Put me down!”
He set you back on your feet almost immediately, brows lifting. “I do?” He tugged at the collar of his sweatshirt, sniffing himself. “I took a quick shower in the—”
“I just needed you to put me down,” You cut in, snickering.
Before he could respond, you stepped forward and hugged him again, softer this time. He laughed, arms wrapping around you without hesitation. When you pulled back, his hands lingered at your waist, like he hadn’t quite decided where they were supposed to go. Neither of you commented on it.
You walked together toward the parking lot, talking over each other, replaying the game beat by beat. You teased him about the risky slide. He shrugged it off like it was nothing. You praised the clutch play at the bottom of the ninth. He tried and failed to downplay it.
Cars filtered out around you, engines starting, headlights flashing on and disappearing one by one, until the lot felt strangely quiet. Smaller. Like the night had narrowed its focus.
“Okay, so,” you said, stopping near his car, hands clasped behind your back. “Shockingly enough, I think I should treat you to dinner. You earned it.”
He blinked. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” You insisted. “Consider it a reward.”
“Like a date?” He asked, brow quirking.
You scoffed. “You wish.”
His smile turned slow. “I do, actually.”
“Whatever,” You said quickly, brushing it off. “What are you in the mood for?”
He laughed, shoulders lifting in a shrug as the sun dipped lower, the golden light softening everything. “I kind of had a different reward in mind.”
Your eyes betrayed you, flicking to his lips for just a second. It was too late and you gave in. He leaned in and—
… Well his baseball cap bumped your forehead first.
Yeah. Only Hwang Intak could fumble a moment like this.
“Ow—” You pulled back, immediately dissolving into laughter as he seemed mortified. “Oh my god,” You groaned. “You aren’t real.” You burst out laughing before you could stop yourself, clutching your head as he froze in place, eyes wide with horror. “
“I’m so sorry,” He blurted, already yanking the cap off his head like it had personally betrayed him. “I didn’t think— I mean, I thought—”
“You didn’t think,” You corrected, shaking your head. “At all.”
He winced. “Okay, yeah. Fair.”
You reached out before he could retreat further, plucking the hat from his hands and flipping it around, settling it back onto his head backwards. Your fingers brushed his hair, and he stilled immediately.
“There,” You said, smoothing the brim. “I like it better this way anyway.”
He laughed, embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can we just… pretend that didn’t happen?”
You hummed thoughtfully. “No.”
“Please?”
You tilted your head, studying him. The same boy who had tormented you since childhood. The same boy who drove you insane, who lingered, who never knew when to leave you alone. The same boy who looked at you now like you were something fragile and precious and entirely terrifying.
And then, without warning, you leaned in.
This time, there was no collision. No fumbling. Just the quiet press of his lips against yours, hesitant at first, like he was waiting for you to pull away. When you didn’t, when you kissed him back, he exhaled softly, hands hovering at your waist before finally settling there, warm and sure.
The kiss was gentle. Sweet. Ridiculously overdue.
When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath uneven, a stunned smile spreading across his face like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
“I’ve wanted to do that since forever,” he admitted quietly.
You stared at him for half a second, then you laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You are such a loser, Hwang Intak.”
He grinned, completely unashamed. “If Im a loser, make that your loser.”
“No, just a big loser.” You snicker before he pinches your hip and dives back in for another kiss.
After that night, things don’t fall apart, but they don’t neatly come together either. Everything exists in fragments.
Graduation season arrived like a slow, unavoidable tide. Final papers and projects, cap-and-gown emails, checklists taped to your wall. Everyone keeps asking the same questions, What’s next? Where are you going? Are you excited?—and you keep nodding like you have answers.
Intak is everywhere and nowhere all at once. He and the university baseball team were on a legendary run and they had many championship titles to be fighting for.
Sometimes he’s gone for ten days straight, texting you from hotel rooms and buses, sending blurry pictures of stadium lights or selfies of him at empty fields. Sometimes he’s back for a single night, collapsing beside you with travel still clinging to him, arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.
You never say boyfriend. He never says girlfriend.
But he still sees you when he can. Still steals bites off your plate and still presses a forehead kiss like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
You move into your off-campus apartment eventually. You had to move out of your previous one before graduation. It was supposed to be exciting! It was your first place that isn’t moldy university housing, something that feels more adult and more real, but the day is quiet in a way you weren’t prepared for.
For the last three years, Intak had always been there.
Lifting boxes like it’s nothing. Complaining about the stairs. Sitting on the floor with you eating chips, surrounded by an overwhelming amount of storage bins.
This time, he’s in another city, miles and miles away.
You carry boxes up the steps yourself, arms burning, keys clutched between your fingers. You drop one in the hallway and have to sit on the floor longer than necessary, staring at the blank walls.
You don’t cry. You just feel… hollow.
That night, you FaceTime him from your mattress on the floor. He smiles when he sees you, proud and apologetic all at once.
“I should’ve been there,” He says quietly.
“I know,” You reply. And that’s it. There’s nothing else to say.
As graduation crept closer, time becomes something you hoard.
When you see him, you cling. You memorize and you take mental snapshots. You loved the way his hair curls when it’s grown out too long, the warmth of his hand at your lower back when he rubs soothing circles on it, and the sound of his laugh when he’s genuinely relaxed.
Sometimes you study together in silence, legs tangled, both pretending not to think about what’s coming.
Sometimes it’s harder.
“How long will you be away this time?” You ask one night, trying to keep your voice light because you knew he had another game to travel for.
“Just for a few days,” He says, but his jaw tightens like he knows it’s never just that.
You’re not even sure what to call this anymore.
You’re together. You’re not. You’re something fragile and undefined, balanced between now and later, between staying and leaving.
8. You Cannot Stand When He Leaves.
The weeks blur together after that.
Graduation day arrives in a whirl of gowns, caps, and stiff smiles. You’re valedictorian again for your major, a smaller ceremony, but still, your parents and Jongseob were proud as ever. You scan the crowd nervously, half-expecting to see him, half-hoping not to.
But you do.
He’s there, sitting with your family with that same easy grin plastered across his face. The moment your eyes meet, all the noise, the cameras, the chatter, the applause, melts into nothing.
After your ceremony, he’s the first person to find you. No awkward fumbling, no forced conversation, just that familiar, comfortable presence. He pulls you into a hug that somehow manages to be both grounding and electrifying at the same time.
“My girl,” He whispers into your hair, and you press a kiss to his cheek, your smile widening.
“I was scared you weren’t gonna make it,” You whisper back.
He grins, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
“I always knew you two would come to your senses.” Your mother interrupted. “I swear she’s always had a crush on you.”
“Eomma.” You grumble, hiding your face in his chest as your parents laughed.
Intak laughed. “More like the other way around.”
Later, he took you out for dinner. It was quiet, candlelit, and at the kind of place that makes everything outside fade. He listened when you talked about your thesis, your professors, the long nights in the lab, the friends you’ll miss.
And he didn’t tease, not once. He was just… there, soft and present, holding your hand across the table, letting you talk your head off.
It was perfect!
Until dessert.
He reached across the table again, lacing his fingers with yours, and you feel the familiar warmth coil in your chest. “There’s something I need to tell you,” He says, quiet enough that it almost feels like he’s testing the words in his mouth.
Your stomach twists. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah..” He swallows. “I guess.” A pause. “Okay, I got an offer. From a professional baseball team, in Japan. It’s a big step for me, and… I’d have to move.”
The words hit like a fastball to the chest. Your fingers tighten around his. “For how long?”
“I don’t know,” He admits. His thumb grazes your knuckles. “Months. If all goes well, maybe a year.. or more. And… I wanted you to be the first.. to know.”
You blink, because part of you wants to be angry, and part of you wants to cling to him like you’ve done so many times before.
“And… what about us?”
His grin falters for the first time in hours. “I don’t want to lose what we have. And I know it’s going to be hard. Especially for me.”
You squeeze his hand, and the frustration and worry in your chest gives way to the familiar ache you’ve tried to ignore. “We’ll figure it out. Promise,”
Every goodbye now comes with the sting of knowing it will be longer than before. Every trip he takes, every practice he misses, feels like a small erosion of the fragile bubble you’ve built together.
And then, the day comes. He’s packed, luggage in hand, passport and ticket clutched in his other. You walked him as far as you could and you cling to him for a heartbeat too long, breathing him in, memorizing everything.
“Come back soon,” You whisper, voice cracking.
“I will,” He says, voice low but sure. “I promise.”
You let him go, stepping back as he walked away. You turned away, because you knew if you saw him look back at least once, you’d want to explode.
But in that emptiness, you realize just how much you wish you had more time.
9. You Cannot Stand How Everyone Saw It Before You Did.
It had been about five months since he left. Five months of quiet and five months of never ending text messages that don’t quite fill the space he used to occupy.
You hated it so much. Facetime calls didn’t feel like enough and cheering for his games through a TV screen left you aching.
Because suddenly, everything you’d pushed aside, dismissed, or ignored for years is glaringly obvious. The little moments, the subtle gestures, the way he had quietly been there all along, they weren’t coincidences. And the weight of it hits you hard.
The guilt gnaws at you, sharp and relentless, for not realizing how… amazing he was sooner. For all the times you’d scoffed, rolled your eyes, or sworn you hated him, you’d been wrong. And now, facing the truth, the ache of having spent so long resisting, resenting, and mourning a presence you didn’t even fully understand stabs straight through your chest.
You’d hated him for so long, and now the very thought of losing him, of all the moments that might have slipped by, twists your heart in a way that is entirely, completely, unavoidable.
So much wasted time. You could’ve loved him sooner.
You’re sprawled on the couch, earbuds in, staring blankly at your laptop, pretending to care about emails from your new job but really you were scrolling through your phone for the tenth time in an hour.
You’re expecting Jongseob to swing by, you’ve braced yourself for one of his little surprise snack runs, but your chest feels heavier than usual tonight. Intak had barely messaged today and it unfortunately felt worse than ever.
All this over a man?! EUGH.
Soon, a knock at the door makes you jump.
“Seob?” You murmur, throwing on your hoodie and padding over. He was in town with Shota, and he said they wanted to stop by and pay you a visit.. maybe use Intak’s PlayStation he left behind… or something. Sounds like something they’d do.
Without another word, you open the door, and there was … no Jongseob or Shota..
But your brain practically short circuits..
Instead, there’s him. Intak.
His baseball cap is tipped low, the hair that poked out a little messy. He had a backpack, a carry-on at his side, and he was holding a small paper bag with something warm, probably food, but it doesn’t matter. You blink, trying to convince yourself this is a dream.
“I… what… how?” You manage, your voice breaking halfway.
“I missed you,” He says, stepping closer. His grin is soft this time, no teasing, no games. Just… him. “I know I’m supposed to be in Japan. I know it’s crazy. But I had to see you.”
You stare, your heart stuttering. “You flew… here? Just… for me?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs like it’s nothing, but his eyes give him away. “Couldn’t wait until the next text, couldn’t wait until the next call. I needed—” He pauses, swallows, then smiles nervously. “I just needed to see you...”
Your chest tightens, all the frustration, the distance, the months of missing him flooding back at once. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you missed me,” He teases softly, the easy grin that makes your stomach twist.
“I… did,” You whisper, almost too quiet.
“Good,” He says, stepping forward, bridging the small space between you. “Because I missed you .. way too much.”
For a moment, you can only stare at him, like if you blink he might disappear again. Then, as if the universe decided to be generous to you for once, he leaned in and rested his chin atop your head. The touch is light, almost careful, but it still steals the air from your lungs, sealing the realization that he was actually here.
In that second, everything folds in on itself. The months apart, the distance, the quiet ache of wanting him from far away all condense into one impossibly perfect moment.
“I have something for you.” Intak pulls back just enough to really look at you.
You lift a brow, lips twitching. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs his backpack off his shoulder and digs into the smaller pocket, movements slightly clumsy, like nerves have finally caught up to him. He pulls out a tiny bag and places it in your hand. You glance down at it, confusion settling in for a beat before realization hits.
God. What a loser.
“Pochacco erasers?” You ask, a soft giggle escaping you as your heart flutters stupidly in your chest. It is silly, but it feels personal in a way that makes your throat tighten. A deep-rooted inside joke, which is technically what it is.
He shakes his head. “Not just any Pochacco erasers,” he corrects, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.
“Pochacco erasers from Japan.”
You roll your eyes, laughing out loud now. He slips his hands back around your waist, pulling you in like it is instinct, like he belongs there. He smiles down at you, your laughter clearly his favorite sound.
“You’re such an idiot,” You breathe, still laughing softly, even as tears sting your eyes and threaten to fall.
“I think you love that about me though.” He murmurs, voice low, almost shy.
You jokingly shove him, trying to push him away, but if anything, he grips you tighter and you sigh.
Summary: When you agree to go on a double date for your best friend’s sake.
Word Count: 2.6k
Disclaimer/s: none really. FLUFF! flirting! Good stuff. Idk.
Vienna’s Voice! hiiiii!!! f1 writing is soooo back. Ahem. yeah anyways. hope u enjoy :3 cooking up so oscar stuff too teehee
Blind dates weren’t really your thing. After months of working non stop, you just happened to be in town visiting and your best friend insisted.. no, begged.. you to tag along on a double date because her boyfriend’s good mate “just happened to be single.”
Right. Of course.
But, you supposed it wouldn’t be the worst way to spend an evening in Monaco.
Wrong.
The date itself had been… fine.
Lando was nice. Very easy to talk to, and funnier than you expected. If nothing else, you could at least say you met a celebrity over an overpriced dinner.
But the issue wasn’t him.
The issue was the two people sitting across you, who had absolutely no regard for personal space.
You sighed, glancing at your best friend and her boyfriend, who were currently fused at the mouth like their lives depended on it.
It had started out subtly. A quick kiss here, a whispered word there.
But now?
Now it was a full-blown make-out session in the middle of the cozy and intimate restaurant, and you were seconds away from pouring boiling tea over their heads just to break them apart.
You cleared your throat. “Hey, guys. Maybe come up for air? Just a suggestion.”
Nothing.
Not even a flinch.
Lando shot you a side glance, his eyes practically screaming: what the hell is happening.
You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing.
Lando tilted his head, watching them in exaggerated horror. “Do you think if we just… got up and left, they’d even notice?”
You drummed your fingers on the table. “Honestly? I could set this whole restaurant on fire and they wouldn’t notice.”
Lando exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “That’s.. yeah. That’s probably true.”
Your best friend let out a breathy little whimper between kisses, and Lando physically recoiled.
“Oh, my god—” He turned to you, exasperated. “I don’t think I can eat anymore.” His giggles were contagious.
“Please… Lost my appetite 5 minutes ago..”
“Where is the self respect?”
“Gone,” You said flatly before a laugh escaped between your lips. “Long gone.” You added, sipping your champagne, attempting to avoid the sight.
Lando gazed back to the scene at the table, where your best friend and her boyfriend were locked in some sort of kiss that looked more like a wrestling match than anything remotely romantic. He muttered, “Well.. at least one of us is enjoying this,” And you quickly snorted.
“What ever happened to asking how someone’s night is going?” You whispered to him.
Lando laughed. “Well clearly they’re having a good night.” He pointed. “How’s yours?”
“I want to kill myself, you?”
Another laugh. “Pretty much the same boat.” He said before looking back up at the lip-wrestling couple.
“I want to stop looking but I’m honestly impressed.” He let out, his eyes locked on the scene.
You softly giggled. “Kind of hard to miss when it’s right there.”
Lando took a deep breath, biting down his lip, clearly trying to keep his composure, but his eyes couldn’t seem to look away, but finally they did as his eyes met yours. “To be completely honest, if I had to rank my worst date experiences, this might just top the list, and I’ve been on some awful ones.”
“Yeah. You and me both.” Your eyes glanced over across the table again, hoping the two faces were finally separated—Wrong.
“Okay yeah, definitely tops my most recent date.”
Lando leaned in a little. “Care to share..?” His tone curious.
You laughed, slightly turning your body towards him, a small sigh escaping your lips. “I went out to a sports bar with this guy and he tried to explain to me how basketball works.” You brought your champagne back to your lips.
“He spoke to me like I was clueless… almost like I was a baby... but I—” You trailed off with a laugh. “I’m a social media manager for the Los Angeles Lakers.”
Lando’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and he couldn't help but laugh. "Wait, are you serious?” His hand clamped over his giggling smile.
“Yeah.” You nodded, trying not to burst out laughing again. “He gave me a full, detailed breakdown of the rules and how the game works… and at one point he even said I’d understand it better if I paid more attention to ‘interesting things’ instead of makeup.”
Lando’s eyes widened before cringing, “Oh, pfft, low blow from him.” He scoffed, clearly stunned. “But did you at least tell him you worked for the NBA?"
“Of course not,” You replied, shaking your head, reaching for your drink again which caused you to catch a glimpse of the ongoing scene in front of you.
Good lord.
"Did not have the guts to tell him.. And besides, he didn’t even ask what I did for a living. Just launched straight into his interests.” You paused to sip. “The first one being basketball of course."
Lando shut his eyes and cringed at the thought. “That’s brutal.”
A shrug lifted at your shoulders. “Clearly he didn’t get a second date so...” You paused. “Yeah, enough about me. What was your worst date?”
Lando leaned back, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly weighing the options for which disaster to share. "Well...I think my worst date would have to be the time I went out with this girl who was fun...until her boyfriend showed up."
You nearly spat your drink. “No way you were the other woman?” You choked on a laugh. “Or other man, I mean. Sorry.” You corrected yourself with a snicker.
Lando let out a laugh, shaking his head. “I would never be the other woman! I had no clue she was taken.”
“Oh my god that’s horrible.” You were practically mortified, but that didn’t stop the giggles from spilling through.
Before the conversation continued, your friend pulled away, finally, and gasped. “My goodness, I think I forgot my lipstick in his car.” She announced.
Her boyfriend, without missing a beat nodded, before adding, “I also forgot her lipstick in my car.”
Silence.
You blinked.
Lando blinked.
“That,” You said flatly, “Is the worst excuse I have ever heard in my life.”
Lando nodded solemnly, eyeing his friend. “Dead awful, mate.”
“Excuse you, it’s valid,” Your best friend insisted, already standing up.
“Yeah,” Her boyfriend added, also rising from his seat. “It’s a… uh… really good lipstick.”
“Oh, for sure,” Lando said, crossing his arms. “And you definitely can’t live without it for another twenty minutes?”
“Exactly,” Your best friend chirped, grabbing her boyfriend’s hand. “We’ll be right back!”
They threw some cash on the table and practically bolted out of the restaurant, giggling like schoolkids.
You and Lando sat there, watching them go, neither of you speaking for a long moment.
Finally, you exhaled dramatically. “That went well then?”
Lando let out a breathy scoff. “Super.”
“Right..” You said reaching for your bag, hoping to pay. “So, I think I need to stab my eyes.” You shook your head in disbelief “Might just go home and pretend that never happened.”
“Don’t worry, I got it.” He pulled out his wallet and set his card down.
“Are you sure? I can cover for me—“
He shook his head. “Take it as financial compensation.”
You laughed. “Don’t you also deserve that too?”
Lando smirked. “Well if you’re offering a round of drinks on you, then I accept…” He trailed off playfully.
“Smooth.. real smooth.” You quirked a brow. “But, deal.” You agreed.
He smiled. “Too easy.”
After paying, you both stood up, and Lando offered you his arm like some sort of gentleman.
You smiled, giggling before slipping your arm through his, and walking out of the restaurant, into the cool night air.
The city streets felt alive, the faint hum of traffic and distant chatter from people enjoying their own nights out, but the two of you were now caught in a bubble of conversation, just the two of you as you headed to a nearby bar.
Lando held the door open for you as you entered, giving you a playful grin as he followed you inside. You found a quiet booth near the back, away from the noise but close enough to feel like you were still part of the world.
After a few drinks, the conversation flowed effortlessly, bouncing from one topic to another, everything from embarrassing childhood stories to what kind of movies you both secretly liked.
It was one of those nights where time seemed to stretch, and for the first time, you realized how comfortable it felt just being around him.
“So, you work for the NBA then?” He asked.
You nodded. “Yeah. Season just ended so I usually visit here in my off time.” A pause. “Unfortunately she’s been preoccupied with her new lover so.. tonight was kind of her idea of bonding with me when.. you know..”
He grinned. “Her idea of bonding was the worst double date ever, essentially?”
“Yeah.” You laughed and eagerly nodded in agreement.
“Hm. What’s your ideal date then?” He asked, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint.
You bit your lip to think about it. “Hmm, nothing too extravagant, honestly. Probably just a nice dinner, somewhere intimate.” You paused.
“Somewhere you can actually hear the other person talk. Maybe a walk after, in the city or by the beach, depending on the weather. And then a stop for dessert, like a really good tiramisu.” You smiled.
Lando nodded, intrigued. “Sounds perfect..”
You smiled softly, surprised he got it. “Yeah. Just a time where you can really connect with someone. Not get distracted by too much going on around you… unlike some events from tonight." You joked as Lando laughed.
He leaned back, studying you for a moment, as if trying to read between the lines. “Honestly, I think I could make that happen.”
You blinked. “You think you could?”
Lando gave you a playful smile, the corners of his mouth curling up. “I know I could.”
You both laughed, the energy between you light and teasing.
It felt nice, easy, almost as if you’d known each other much longer than you really had.
When you finished your drinks, Lando paid.
It caught you off guard because you thought the deal was that he paid for that disastrous dinner and you covered the drinks… but nope.
Not on his watch.
It was Lando Norris, and he was not going to let the lady pay, ever.
Once the two of you started walking back down the street, the breezy night air made the atmosphere feel even more romantic.
Lando stopped just outside a corner, turning to face you. The smile on his face softened, and for a second, the playful teasing from earlier faded into something more serious.
“I meant what I said by the way,” He said, his voice quieter now. “I’d like to take you on that date.”
You stared at him, your heart picking up pace, though you couldn’t quite place why. Something about the way he was looking at you made you feel like this was more than just a casual offer.
You tilted your head slightly. “Yeah?”
Lando’s eyes softened, and he nodded. “Yeah.”
A pause lingered between you, both of you standing there in the quiet, before you finally smiled. “Okay.. I’d like that.”
His smile grew in return, and it felt like everything around you slowed down for a second. He stepped a little closer, his presence warm and inviting.
“Really?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, that teasing edge still in his voice.
You nodded again, your heart feeling just a little too full for comfort. “Yeah, really.”
Lando’s smile deepened as he took a step closer, now standing just in front of you. The cool night air swept past, but the moment felt still, like the world around you had quieted down just for a moment.
“Hm. Need a ride?” He asked, his voice suddenly more tender.
You thought about it for a second before nodding your head slightly. “Mmm yes.. but… I’ve been staying with my friend while I’ve been in town and I’m not too sure if I want to.. go home to that… ”
Lando grinned softly. “Well…”
You cut him off, holding up a finger with a playful warning, although you wouldn’t be opposed. “Don’t you dare offer your place.”
He chuckled, stepping even closer now, his breath mingling with yours. "Well, would you rather spend more time with me or go home to whatever scenario you and I both know is happening right at this moment?”
There was that familiar teasing glint in his eyes again, but this time, his gaze lingered a little longer on your lips. You could feel the pull between you, something charged and undeniable, and before you knew it, the words were lost to a moment that felt like it had been waiting for its time to happen.
Without thinking, you giggled. Stepping forward and kissed him.
It was soft at first, tentative, like the world was holding its breath, but then it deepened, both of you leaning into it, as if the night itself had been waiting for this.
The kiss was slow and just the right amount of daring, the kind that spoke of something neither of you had been expecting but were both undeniably drawn to.
When you pulled away, there was a breathless silence, and Lando’s grin was all warmth now, his eyes locked onto yours.
“Wise choice,” He murmured softly, his voice hoarse.
You laughed, your heart racing as you tried to gather yourself, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling up as you subtly tried to hide your face in his chest.
“Let’s just get out of here.”
And with that, he offered his hand to you, leading you to his car, the night feeling just a little more alive than before.
likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list :3
Summary: When she's your saving grace after a man (Sigh.) is ruining your night.
Word Count: 1.7k
Disclaimer/s: idk just fluff, heavy flirting allat :3
Vienna's Voice! hiii!!! so happy to be writing again, aghhh i wanted to get this one out before thanksgiving but i got too BUSY... but here u go!!!:3 recycled plot from a paige one i did but ykw, its something at least..! hope u enjoy!... <3
You regretted coming here the second you stepped inside. But you decided to stay anyways.
It was supposed to be a chill night, one drink while waiting for your friends, who were already twenty minutes late and “on their way.”
The bar was dim enough to feel cozy, loud enough to feel alive, and yet… small enough for unwanted attention to find you.
And unfortunately, one guy had found you.
Of course he had.
You’d given him three polite smiles, two vague answers, and one desperate attempt at pretending to text someone very important.
He didn’t care.
“So,” he said, leaning his forearm on the bar so close you could smell his cologne, “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out alone on a night like this?”
You kept your eyes on your drink. “I’m not alone.”
“Mmh,” he hummed, unconvinced. “Looks like it.”
You gripped your glass a little tighter.
You had two options: keep humoring him until your friends arrived, or—
“Take the hint, dude,” You said at last, your patience snapping clean in half. You didn’t raise your voice, but it sharpened like a blade. “I have a girlfriend.”
Lie. And it was clear you had made your choice.
And before you could even process what you were doing, your body moved.
You latched onto the nearest person walking past.
Her.
The tall girl you had seen earlier, even if you hadn’t admitted it to yourself. The one whose height made the whole room seem too small for her. The one with beautiful curls pulled back, sleeves fitted to her biceps, casual confidence in every step she took.
You’d caught her eye once when you walked in, a split-second glance that felt longer than it was.
And apparently, she’d noticed you too.
She halted the second your fingers wrapped around her arm. Your heart jumped into your throat.
She looked down at your hand. Then at you. Wide-eyed. Stunning. Taller than you expected.
Her brows lifted, confused, but only for a moment.
Because she saw him. And her face changed instantly, clearly taking the hint.
Protective. Sharp. Territorial in a way that wasn’t loud, but incredibly clear.
This wasn’t some random stranger anymore. This was someone stepping into a role she understood without needing instructions.
“Hey,” She murmured, voice low and smooth, tilting her head toward you. “There you are.”
Her arm slid around your waist before you could breathe, before you could think.
She pulled you gently but firmly against her, your body fitting against hers like she’d done this a thousand times before.
Her hand settled just above your hip, possessive, warm, and terrifyingly natural.
“I’ve been looking for you,” She added, soft but pointed, as if you’d been hers all along.
The guy blinked. “Wait—this is your girlfriend?” There was almost a hint of disgust to it.
She didn’t even look at him.
She kept her eyes on you, thumb brushing your waist in a slow, steady reassurance you didn’t know you needed.
“Everything okay, baby?” She asked quietly, but loud enough for him to hear, but she meant it only for you.
You barely had time to react.
Because— god, she smelled good.
Her voice was rich. Her presence swallowed the entire space between you and everything else.
You nodded shakily. “Y-Yeah. I’m good.”
Finally, she turned her head toward the man, her expression flattening into something cold.
“She said she’s with someone,” Her voice was calm. Territorial. Final. Dangerous.
The guy swallowed. “I didn’t know she was telling the truth.”
“You do now,” She replied, hand tightening once at your hip, a warning with a pulse. “So get out of my face.”
He didn’t argue. He didn’t look back. He just left.
And only once he was fully gone did she release a slow breath.
Her arm stayed around you. Her fingers still rested at your waist. Her body stayed angled protectively behind you.
A sigh escaped your lips before you slowly turned, not realizing you were still holding onto her arm.
She glanced down at your hand, then over at you.
Her smirk was small. Lethal. Stunning. “Wasn’t aware I had a girlfriend?” There was almost a hint of teasing in her voice.
You flushed, heart stuttering. “Sorry… you were just the closest,” You admitted, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. “I panicked.”
She tilted her head, eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your stomach knot. “Lucky me, then.” Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, one that made it very clear she wasn’t joking.
You swallowed, words caught somewhere between your brain and your mouth. “Uh…right.” You tried to shake it off, finally removing your hand from her arm. “Sorry again, for just… grabbing you like that,” You said, gesturing vaguely.
Her hand stayed firmly on your waist, thumb brushing lightly over your side, showing clear interest. “No complaints,” She said, that smirk lingering, sharp and certain. “Not one.”
You could feel your pulse quicken. Every time her fingers moved even slightly, your chest felt like it might explode. And God was she attractive.
“Well,” She grinned, finding your slight blush amusing. “Can I at least get my girlfriend a drink?” She teased.
You raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across your own features. “Actually, I think my girlfriend owes me her name first,” You countered, trying to gain some confidence.
She laughed, your heart hammering as you let your hands settle back lightly at her arms, savoring the electricity between you.
“Fair enough.” She said. “I’m Juju.”
“Juju,” you repeated, letting the name roll off your tongue like it belonged to you.
And maybe it already did.
You continued to share your name with her, and she smiled.
Juju leaned in slightly, curls brushing your shoulder, eyes glittering with that unreadable mix of challenge and warmth. “Now how about that drink?,” She murmured, her hands tightening ever so slightly on your waist.
You exhaled shakily, a grin tugging at your lips despite the heat rushing through you. “By all means,” You said, your eyes never leaving hers.
Her laugh was soft, melodic. “Good answer,” She said, pulling you just a little closer.
And just like that, the crowd, the noise, the bar itself, all of it faded. There was only you and Juju, the space between you charged with something too thrilling to ignore.
It’s always nights like this that are the most enjoyable.
But maybe this was now the start of something new.
likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list!!!
took the longest unintentional hiatus of my life, but i have a sense of whimsy back and i would love to get back to writing! submit anything you want and keep in mind of who i write for!
my masterlists. ➜ womens basketball. motorsports.
winter/holiday requests seem appropriate, i’m feeling so festive. but again, i’m down for anything! :3
also! let me know if you want to be in my tag list! curating a new one for this new era! yay!!!
can I request a kk arnold x reader fic where the reader is super girly, like on the UConn cheer squad and everything, the total opposite of kk?
Girls. ✷ KK Arnold
Pairing: KK Arnold x Cheerleader!reader
Summary: When KK is crushing hard and isn’t sure if you even swing that way at all…
Word Count: 1.6k
Disclaimer/s: just fluff. you know the vibes! :3 aubrey & paige cameo too , my shaylas
Vera’s Voice! loved writing this thank u.
KK had been crushing on you since freshman year.
It didn’t start off dramatic—more like casual awareness. You shared a few general education classes in your first year, usually sitting a few rows apart.
The two of you weren't close, but you both exchanged enough half-smiles and “hey’s” to recognize each other on campus.
It wasn’t anything. Not at first..
Now you were both sophomores, both deep in your respective sports—her on the basketball team, you on the cheer squad—and even though you'd never been friends, the familiarity lingered.
It was very out of the ordinary for KK. To be shy.
Especially when it came to you.
It was the easiest thing in the world for her to make friends—but, she just felt nauseous when it came to the idea of even talking to you.
Maybe it was because you were the kind of girl who made heads turn without trying, always dressed to the nines, even for your 8 a.m. lectures in some effortless matching set.
Your glossy lips, manicured nails, claw clips in your hair, the whole thing.
You wore gold jewelry that always matched your outfit, carried a white Stanley cup everywhere, and somehow never had a hair out of place even after a full cheer routine.
And of course, as a cheerleader, one of UConn’s finest, you were always on the sidelines of their games, loud, bright and way too radiating for KK to process when she was already trying not to miss free throws.
You didn’t just smile—you lit up.
Like someone who could turn fluorescent gym lights into something blissful.
“You’re so down bad,” Paige had whispered on the bench last month, the two of them both checked out amidst a 30 point lead.
The blonde nudged KK in the side after catching her sneaking a glance in your direction.
“I’m not,” She mumbled, eyes dropping immediately.
“You are,” Aubrey chimed in. “You get all flustered when you look at her. It’s cute.”
KK groaned into her hands. “Man, I don’t even know if she likes girls.”
“You won’t know unless you shoot your shot,” Aubrey shrugged, setting her water bottle down. “What’s the worst that could happen? She says no?”
“She could… not say anything,” KK muttered. “Or act weird. And then I still gotta see her all the time.”
Paige and Aubrey shared a look with each other before laughing, shaking their heads at the younger teammate. “You’re so damn dramatic.”
KK didn’t respond.
She just pressed her lips together and focused on her laces, hoping the conversation would drop.
But it didn’t stop the thoughts. Or the way she found herself watching you more often. How you shook your poms absentmindedly during timeouts.
How you always tied your shoes the same way, with one loop a little too big. How you stretched before practice like you weren’t built like an ethereal gymnast.
How you made her feel sixteen again. Flustered and awkward and flushed with nerves over someone who might not even look at her twice.
Little did KK know though….
It wasn’t until a rainy Thursday after practice that the universe seemed to finally nudge her forward.
The basketball team was filing out of the gym after a long afternoon of drills.
KK had just peeled off her practice jersey and thrown on her hoodie when she heard Aubrey’s voice echo through the hall.
“Yo. You might wanna look outside.”
“Huh?”
“Your dream girl’s out there,” Paige added, hunching her back in a giddy demeanor. A smug expression already forming. “Struggling like hell.”
KK stepped forward cautiously, peering out one of the large windows.
And there you were—practically drenched from head to toe, lugging what looked like an oversized speaker case, a storage bin of pom poms, and a rolled-up mat, clearly trying to juggle everything with both hands while your phone was pinned between your shoulder and ear.
“I told coach I’d drop it off today, but I had to uber here with everything,” You were saying into the phone, breathless. “My car is still in the shop—but trust, I figured it out.”
KK froze.
“This is your moment,” Paige whispered, practically vibrating with the need to meddle. “Go.”
“What if she doesn’t—?”
“KK.” Aubrey stepped in front of her. “You either help her now or Paige and I help her. And we flirt.”
KK sighed dramatically but started walking before she could change her mind.
You didn’t notice her at first. Not until she reached for the speaker case, gently pulling it from your grasp.
You turned, startled.
But there she was.
“Oh—KK!” You tried to bring down the slight scare she gave you. “Hey.” You smiled.
“Hi,” She replied, a little breathless, trying not to focus on the way your hair stuck to your cheeks in the rain. “You need some help?”
You blinked at her for a second, then smiled—really smiled—and KK felt her heart skip.
“I mean... if you’re offering, then yes please.”
She laughed, shouldering the case easily and waiting while you adjusted the mat in your grasp. The rest of the walk to the storage room wasn’t far, but it felt like its own kind of eternity.
A quiet one.
You didn’t rush the silence, and neither did she.
“Thank you,” You said finally, setting the bin of cheer poms down. “Didn’t think anyone was still in the gym.”
“Yea, uh..” KK cleared her throat. “Practice ran a little late,” She replied, glancing over at you, nervous.
You smiled again. “Well, thank God.” You continued to start a little conversation. “I owe you one now.”
She shook her head, a small laugh following after. “Nah, it was the least I could do.”
You nudged her shoulder. “Aw, come on.” The smile on your face nearly made her melt. “I would’ve died carrying that all by myself, you came at the perfect time.”
KK was smiling now. Her face brighter than ever. “I’ll hold you to it then.” She shyly glanced away, her gaze falling outside the nearby window where Aubrey and Paige stood now—not making it any less obvious they were watching.
She took a deep breath—remembering their words.
“You won’t know unless you shoot your shot.”
“Uhh… Well. This pasta spot on campus just opened,” She offered, voice light as if she were testing the waters. “I’ve been wanting to go. Heard it’s pretty nice...”
Your heart stopped.
Goodness gracious, KK.
Fucking finally! You thought.
You blinked, startled by the sudden flip in your heartbeat, your grip tightening on the mat you were still holding.
“Oh,” You said, trying to keep your voice casual despite the way your stomach was doing somersaults. “Yeah? That sounds... really sweet.”
KK looked back at you, eyes searching yours for any hint of rejection—but instead, all she saw was the softest kind of surprise, like maybe you’d been waiting for this moment too.
She gave a small, nervous smile, teeth tugging at her bottom lip.
“So...” She started, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets, “Would you wanna maybe go? With me?” Her voice dropped just a little, enough to betray that this wasn’t just about pasta.
You smiled—biting the inside of your cheek, blush clearly rising. “Are you asking me on a date?”
KK’s laugh was immediate, and embarrassed, her hand flying to the back of her neck. “I mean.. Yeah? Only if you want it to be…. Uhm—No pressure.”
You stepped a little closer, the rain still softly tapping against the windows beside the both of you. “Then yes,” You said quietly.
“I’d like that. It’s a date.”
The look on KK’s face was pure light.
Pure disbelief and joy and holy shit.
“Okay,” She breathed, more to herself than to you.
You pulled your phone from your pocket, unlocking it with a quick swipe before holding it out toward her. “Here,” You said, voice a little softer now. “So I can text and bug you for more details.”
KK blinked at the phone like it had just materialized from thin air, then laughed, taking it from your hand. “Smooth.”
“I try,” You murmured, watching her type. “Just been waiting for you to finally say something.”
Her fingers hovered over the screen for a beat. She gave a quiet laugh, eyes flicking up to meet yours.
“Yeah?” She asked, a little breathless. “Guess I was waiting too. Just… wasn’t sure.”
You tilted your head. “Wasn’t sure about what?”
“I wasn’t sure if you were into girls.”
You blinked, a little surprised—but then you smiled, something gentle crossing your face as you giggled. “Really?”
KK shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I mean, I didn’t wanna assume.”
You tilted your head slightly, studying her. “Well… I’ve always been into girls,” You admitted softly.
Her eyes widened just a bit, like she was processing it in real time. “So I had a shot this whole time?”
You laughed under your breath. “You’ve always had a shot.” You grinned as KK finally handed your phone back.
Her number saved.
You looked down at the contact name, smiling wide at the heart emoji she left beside it.
Looking back up at KK, your heart melted.
It finally happened.
Oh wow.
But, after a few seconds, her gaze followed towards outside the window where Aubrey elbowed Paige, the two of them immediately high-fiving like they’d just sealed a bet.
You raised a brow. “They’re not even being subtle.”
KK turned, groaned, and covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. “Man, I’m gonna kill them.”
You nudged her again, voice soft this time. “You won’t need to. You already scored.”
And KK just looked down at you, smiling bigger than she ever has before.
Because she really did.
likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list
uconn winning the natty made this idea come to mind lol!! 😭 paige is constantly wearing that net, so i was wondering if i could request a paige x fem reader imagine where they celebrate her win, and paige fucks her with that net on !
Hold Me Down. ✷ Paige Bueckers
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Gf!reader
Summary: When you tease Paige because she will probably have to be surgically removed from that damn championship game net.
Word Count: 1k
Disclaimer/s: thank u for the request but i don’t do smut :’) so there’s NONE !!!! but there’s some kissing , suggestive stuff , and it implies it , but i just personally don’t write the actual, u know. i’m sorry!!! u got the wrong girl lowk 💔
Vera’s Voice! that stupid net i swear.. i was gonna write something regarding the net and then i got this request but then also , again , i do not write smut :’) Unless I change my mind one day. but yk. hope u enjoooyyy!!
You spot her amidst the madness, and for a moment, the world feels like it slows down. The afterparty is a blur of laughter and celebration, but all you can focus on is Paige.
She’s the center of it all, surrounded by teammates, friends, and a few overenthusiastic fans, but she stands out in the best way.
Her cheeks are flushed from the adrenaline of the game, and she’s still wearing that damn net—the one that’s somehow managed to stay around her neck since the ceremonial hoop cut.
Like it was a crown she’s earned, swinging back and forth with every sliver of movement made.
You leaned against a wall, watching her for a second. She looks like everything she’s ever dreamed of.
And yet somehow, she still looks at you like you’re the prize.
When she finally makes her way over, she doesn’t say anything right away.
Just grins, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling—and wraps her arms around you like the buzzer just went off again.
And of course, that net smacks you right in the face.
“Jesus,” You laugh, peeling it away and letting it flop against her chest. “Just not gonna take this thing off, I’m assuming?”
She pulls back just far enough to look at you, her hands finding your waist before she grins wider. “Earned it.”
“Planning to sleep in it too?”
“Maybe,” She says, shrugging, cocky as ever. “You got a problem with that?”
“Not necessarily,” You say, dragging out the words. “Just didn’t realize I was also dating the net.”
Paige’s laugh comes out breathless, her chest rising and falling with the quickness of her breath.
She leans in, her lips almost brushing yours, but at the last second, she pulls back just enough so she’s hovering next to your ear.
You can feel her breath against your skin, making you shiver.
“You’re lucky I love you,” She murmurs, her voice low, almost a growl.
You let out a soft laugh, feeling the heat in your chest intensifying.
You reach up, your fingers brushing the edges of the net still tangled around her neck, and without thinking, you tug it toward you.
She stumbles slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she follows your lead, her eyes darkening with an unspoken challenge.
You pull her in until your lips are barely an inch apart, and she’s staring at you, her chest pressed against yours.
You can feel her heart pounding, just like yours.
The tension between you two is suffocating, electric.
And in that moment, you do the only thing that feels right.. so you kiss her.
It’s not soft or slow. It’s urgent, messy, and full of everything you both want but can’t say aloud. Her lips are warm and familiar, but they’re hungry, too, moving against yours with that desperate need that’s been building all night.
Her hands tighten on your waist, pulling you even closer, her fingers digging into your skin.
You tug at the net, the rough edges of it brushing your fingers as it shifts between you both, but neither of you care.
The net is forgotten in the heat of the kiss, just another piece of fabric caught in the fire.
When you finally pull back, her eyes are dark with something too heated to ignore.
Her lips are red and swollen, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
She doesn’t break the eye contact, doesn’t look away.
There’s no mistaking it now.
“Guess this thing is useful in some ways.” You mutter under your breath, and Paige just grins.
She leans forward, her lips brushing your ear, voice barely above a whisper, thick with promise.
“You keep making fun of the net like I won’t use it to shut you up later,” She says, each word dripping with temptation.
The words hang in the air between you, too heavy, too loaded.
“You’re so full of yourself.” You scoff.
“I’m a national champion, can you blame me?”
You can’t stop the shiver that runs down your spine, or the way your heart beats faster with the thought of her taking control.
Paige looks down at the net, her fingers playing with the frayed edges before meeting your eyes again. Without warning, she pulls it off her neck and drapes it over yours, the weight of it suddenly feeling very different.
“Think I like it better on you,” She says, the words playful, but with an edge to them.
She steps back, taking in the way the net hangs loosely around your neck, before her eyes meet yours again.
You both stand there for a moment, the world around you fading out.
There’s no sound anymore, just the tension crackling in the space between you.
She tilts her head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, her eyes filled with that glint of something dangerous. “Meet me in the room in five minutes,” She murmurs.
“And only wear the net.”
Without waiting for a response, she turns and walks away, her movements graceful, confident.
You stand there for a second, staring after her, feeling the heat rise in your chest.
Five minutes.
Oh fuck.
likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list!!!!
Summary: Loving her in secret was starting to hurt, but for Paige, loving you out loud meant saying what she’s never said before.
Word Count: 2.4k
Disclaimer/s: SOME angst, fluff, whole shabang or wtv
Vera’s Voice! THEYRE NATIONAL CHAMPIONNNSSSSS PAIGE MYBSHAYLAAAA 😭😭😭 they deserved that so bad , such a beautiful way to go out. so here , i bestow upon you, a paige imagine Heh… hope u enjoy smirk :3
The hotel room was quiet.
The kind of silence that feels thick, suffocating, like it might collapse on you any second. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your cheer hoodie still on, knees tucked to your chest, staring out the window at the lights of the city below. The glow of the streetlamps flickered like a heartbeat, but it did little to soften the ache in your chest.
You’d been quiet all night. Too quiet. Since the interview.
Since she said it.
“It’s just me and only doing me.”
The words echoed in your mind, repeating like a broken record. Paige’s voice, cool and casual, her eyes bright as ever in front of the camera. The reporter’s question, thrown at her so carelessly, had slipped out without hesitation.
And then it was out there, plastered everywhere.
You understood. You really did.
You’d always known Paige wasn’t publicly out, and you’d never pushed her to make any declarations. You loved her in the quiet moments, the ones where it was just the two of you, when no one was watching, when everything felt safe.
But hearing those words from her, on national TV, made you feel like you didn’t exist. Like you weren’t worth mentioning.
The hurt had settled in quietly, like a stone in your stomach. And it had grown heavier with every passing minute.
Paige had been in and out of the room, checking on her teammates, getting ready for tomorrow, but you could feel the shift.
She could feel it, too. And still, neither of you spoke.
She finally walked over, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion. She hadn’t even bothered to change out of her practice clothes yet, her UConn hoodie and gym shorts still on.
“Hey,” She said softly, her voice holding an edge of concern. “You okay?”
You turned to face her slowly, managing a small smile. “Yeah.”
But she knew you weren’t.
“Come on,” She said, taking a few steps toward you. “What’s going on?”
You shook your head, biting back the frustration that had been building all day. You had tried to push it down, tried to let it slide, but now it was spilling out.
“I saw the interview,” You said, voice quieter than you expected.
Her face dropped instantly.
The slight panic that had been simmering in her eyes from the moment she walked in now took hold.
“Oh,” She said, running a hand through her damp hair. “I figured you’d see it eventually.”
“I wouldn’t care if you said ‘no comment,’ or, skipped the question Paige,” You spoke softly, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to go public. I get that. But when you said—” You stopped yourself, exhaling sharply.
She didn’t move.
“But when you said that line—‘just doing me’—” You blinked hard. “That really hurt.”
“I didn’t mean for it to,” She said quickly, “It just came out. It was fast, and I panicked.”
You nodded, but a sigh still left your lips. “You could’ve said literally anything else. You could’ve said, ‘Just focused on the season.’ Something neutral. But you made it sound like you’re completely alone.”
She came to sit on the edge of the other bed, hands clasped together. “I didn’t mean to erase you.”
“But you kind of did.”
The pause that followed was longer than either of you liked.
“I know you‘ve preferred to keep it private,” You started gently. “I’ve respected that. I never wanted to force you into anything different. But Paige… we’ve been together for almost a year.”
“I know.”
“Then why does it still feel like I’m something you’re ashamed of?”
She flinched like the words physically hit her. “I’m not ashamed!” She almost too quickly in defense, nearly offended you’d say something like that, but her face softened.
“And It’s really not a you thing,” She said, voice low. “It’s a me thing.”
You waited.
Paige stared down at her hands for a long time, her knuckles white where she gripped them. Then, quietly:
“If I ever say it.. if I say something like, ‘I’m dating someone,’ or ‘Yes, I’m gay’—Then it… it becomes so real. Like, actually real.”
She paused.
“Not just hints. Not just little rainbow emojis or TikTok reposts. It becomes… something permanent. Something everyone gets to pick apart. And I’ve never said those words out loud. Not once.”
Your heart clenched. You knew that. Deep down, you’d always known it. But hearing it from her mouth—so soft, so small—it made your throat tighten.
“I’m scared,” She whispered. “Of how it changes everything. Of what people will think. What my family will say. I’m not ready to be… that version of myself. Not yet.”
You nodded slowly. “And I’m not trying to take that from you. I’m not. I just… I didn’t think it would hurt this bad.”
“I didn’t think it would either.” She replied.
The silence came back, thicker now.
“I’m not asking you to come out tomorrow,” You added, after a moment. “Or even next week. I just wanted you to see how it’s been aching. Because I’m not some phase you can hide behind closed doors… I’m here—I’m yours. And it’s hard to keep being okay with pretending I’m not.”
Paige swallowed hard. Her eyes were glassy. “I get that. I do. But can you just… let me figure it out in my own time?”
You nodded, but your voice was barely a breath. “Yeah.”
She looked at you then, like she wanted to reach out. Wanted to hold you.
Say something. Fix it.
But she didn’t move. And You didn’t either.
The weight between you had now grown roots.
Paige looked toward the clock, blinking slowly. “We should probably try to get some sleep.”
“Yeah.”
You both got under separate covers. The distance between the two of you had never felt so wide.
She laid there quietly, still, but her breathing told you she was awake.
You were too.
And for a long moment, the two of you just stayed like that.
Silent. Staring at ceilings. Thinking too loudly.
Paige turned once. Then again. You heard her shift, then go still.
There was always a kiss. A soft one before bed.
But tonight, she didn’t ask. And you didn’t offer.
The next morning, your alarm rang too early.
Too sharp, too abrupt.
You didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want to face the weight of what had happened the night before. But when you did, the first thing you noticed was the empty side of the bed.
Paige wasn’t there.
It wasn’t unusual—she was always up before you, preparing herself for a usual game day routine. But this morning, there was a coolness in the air. A hollow quietness.
You laid there for a moment, staring at the space next to you, the sheets cold from her absence. There was no soft rustling of her moving around, no whispered words, no little gesture of affection to start the day.
It felt wrong.
You grabbed your phone, checking the time.
Messages from your cheer squad had already come in, pumping up the team for the day, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about the argument last night. How she’d shut down, how the words had slipped through your lips and the silence had stretched between you both.
It wasn’t just that she hadn’t kissed you good morning—it was the distance. The feeling that something had changed.
Something wasn’t right.
You eventually got ready, throwing on a hoodie over some gym clothes and made your way out, already mentally preparing for the day.
The game. The team. You knew what was expected of you. But the weight of Paige’s absence felt heavier than any game pressure.
By the time you arrived at the arena, the air was thick with energy. The crowd’s anticipation hummed around you, the buzz of excitement surrounding the championship game.
But none of it seemed to sink in.
You barely registered the music, the cheers, the chants. All you could focus on was the court, your eyes searching for the one person who meant everything to you.
Paige was already in her zone, stretching, her focus trained on the game ahead. She was the star of the show, her movements graceful and powerful as she warmed up.
But it was like a wall had been built between the two of you—one that neither of you had fully addressed. She didn’t glance your way. She didn’t offer her usual smile. She didn’t even acknowledge you as you stood along the sidelines, your cheer squad prepping for the game.
You could feel the coldness, the invisible divide, but you didn’t want to confront it yet. You didn’t want to make things worse. So you stayed quiet, trying to push the emotions down, trying to ignore the ache in your chest that kept growing with every second.
The first half was a blur.
UConn was doing well—but, Paige seemed to not be in the right head space.. and it hurt. She was barely executing every move with precision.
And every pass, every shot she made, felt like it was happening in a different world, one where you weren’t standing just a few feet away, trying to hide the hurt in your chest.
You cheered for the team, of course. It was your job, and of course, you were proud. You had to be. But every time you tried to catch Paige’s eye, she was too focused on the game, her eyes not straying from the court for even a moment.
You didn’t expect her to look at you during the game, not really, but you had hoped—maybe today—it would be different. You had hoped that she would feel the weight of the silence between you, that she’d want to reach out, to bridge the gap.
But there was nothing.
The second half carried the same tension. UConn was pulling ahead, and the game was nearing its climax. Paige was doing better.. she was everywhere—on the court, in the thick of it, her movements precise and deadly.
Every move felt like it had been choreographed for her. She was unstoppable, and UConn was on the brink of victory.
But all you could do was watch from the sidelines, feeling more like a spectator than part of the team. You saw Paige driving to the basket, her eyes locked on the hoop, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she glanced up—right at you.
Still, even with the final buzzer approaching, you couldn’t shake the feeling of distance. It wasn’t about the game. UConn was winning, yes, but it was the fact that you and Paige had been so far apart.
You had both been carrying this weight, and it felt heavier than anything else.
But finally, the buzzer rang.
UConn had won. She was a national champion.
The entire arena erupted into chaos—cheers, confetti falling like rain, the energy thick in the air. You stood frozen, caught in a whirlwind of sound and motion, but all you could hear was the thudding of your own heart.
Paige, surrounded by her teammates, was smiling that brilliant, radiant smile, the one that lit up the entire room. She was pulling in every bit of the spotlight, surrounded by reporters and cameras.
You stood on the sidelines with your team, watching her, but something felt wrong.
You were so proud of her—so proud of UConn. But it was like she wasn’t even aware of you there. The space between you felt wider than it ever had, even in the intensity of the game.
For a moment, you thought she might not come to you at all—like the moment, the victory, had completely consumed her.
And you really couldn’t blame her.
You tried not to think about it, to swallow down the hurt, but it was hard. Watching Paige smile for the cameras, a version of her that wasn’t yours, hurt more than you expected.
And then, just as you were starting to lose hope, you locked eyes with her.
And she was coming towards you.
She walked through the crowd, determination in her every step. The cameras flashed, and reporters tried to capture the image of the champion, but Paige didn’t even glance at them.
She only had eyes for you.
She didn’t stop until she was right in front of you. Without warning, she scooped you up into her arms, spinning you around with a wide grin on her face.
“What are you doing?” You managed to ask, laughing a little in surprise, still not sure what was happening.
But before you could say anything more, she cut you off with a kiss.
Her lips were on yours, urgent and fierce. No preamble. No hesitation. Just pure emotion, pure relief that this moment had finally come—finally, she was here with you, in front of everyone, not hiding, not running away.
You kissed her back, your hands gripping her arms as if you never wanted to let go. And when she pulled away, you were both breathing heavily, the world around you buzzing, but all you could feel was her.
She smiled, her eyes softening. “I needed that,” She said quietly.
You let out a shaky breath, your voice almost a whisper. “I needed it too.”
And then, without warning, Paige lifted you, this time pulling you into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around you as she held you close and spun around.
The noise around you faded. There was just you and her. It didn’t matter who was watching. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought.
This was your moment.
“You’ve got me, always,” Paige murmured, holding you so tightly, as if she never wanted to let you go.
And in that moment, with the weight of the world still on her shoulders and the trophy waiting, you knew that you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
With her.
Forever.
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Summary: When she swears she isn’t the jealous type, but then you laugh a little too hard at someone’s joke.
Word Count: 700+
Disclaimer/s: JEALOUS!KK MHM. mhm. eyah.
Vera’s Voice! give me that. Fuck off.
KK swore she wasn’t the jealous type.
She could sit back, arms crossed, legs stretched out, perfectly at ease while other people made you laugh. She could watch as someone else stole your attention, as they leaned in close, cracked a joke, and earned that smile she loved so much.
It didn’t faze her.
Not at all.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
She told herself she didn’t need to assert anything, didn’t need to wedge herself into the conversation just to prove a point. She didn’t have to be the funniest, the smartest, the most interesting person in the room. She wasn’t some possessive girlfriend who needed to make it obvious—who needed to stake a claim like it was some sort of competition.
That just wasn’t her.
She was cool, collected, confident.
Right?…
But then she’d catch herself staring too long, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sleeve. She’d hear your laughter, light and easy, and feel a pang in her chest, sharp and unwelcome. It wasn’t jealousy, she’d insist.
Just… an observation. A passing thought.
But if that was true, then why did it bother her so much?
Because tonight? Tonight was testing her patience.
It had started as a casual hangout with her team—just a chill night at one of the apartments, music playing low, takeout containers stacked on the table, and a mix of playful conversations and half-hearted trash talk filling the space.
You were tucked right next to KK on the couch, leaning into her the way you always did, her arm stretched lazily across the back of the cushions behind you.
All was good. KK was good.
But then Paige had to open her damn mouth.
It wasn’t that KK didn’t like Paige—because she did.
She loved her.
Paige was the kind of teammate you wanted in your corner: funny, smart, and absolutely ruthless on the court, of course. But Paige also had this way of making people laugh, of commanding a room without even trying, and right now?
She had you laughing a little too hard.
KK tried not to notice at first. Tried to act like she wasn’t tracking every single time you giggled at something Paige said, like she wasn’t hyper-aware of the way your eyes crinkled, the way you leaned just a little closer, hanging onto every word.
But then you smacked Paige’s arm, still laughing, and Paige, being Paige, leaned in like she had something else funny to whisper in your ear. KK’s jaw clenched.
She wasn’t the jealous type.
She wasn’t the jealous type.
She wasn’t the—
You laughed again, head thrown back, and something inside KK snapped.
Before she even knew what she was doing, she was reaching for you, hands settling firmly on your waist as she pulledyou onto her lap.
A surprised squeak left your lips as you were suddenly repositioned, your back pressed against KK’s chest, her arms wrapping tight around you. You turned your head to look at her, amusement flickering in your eyes.
“Uh—hi?” You said, half-laughing, half-confused.
KK didn’t answer right away. She just tightened her hold, resting her chin on your shoulder, arms locking you in place. Her heartbeat was steady, but there was an unmistakable edge to her grip—like she wasn’t just holding you.
Like she was staking a claim.
Paige raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “Damn, KK. You good?”
“I’m chill,” KK replied, voice smooth, even as her fingers flexed against your hip, gripping you tighter.
"What are you—"
"You were sitting too far," KK muttered, nestling into the back of your shoulder like that explained everything.
You blinked. "I was right next to you."
"Not close enough," She murmured, arms tightening around you like a seatbelt.
You huffed a laugh, but she could feel the warmth of your blush creeping up your neck.
"Are you—"
"Don't." KK cut you off before you could finish the sentence.
Before you could call her out.
Before you could say that word.
Jealous.
Because she wasn’t!!! Durrr.
She just—she just needed to remind you.
Just in case.
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Summary: When Aubrey needs to call you every time she’s at an away game because she loves hearing your voice.
Word Count: 400+
Disclaimer/s: just fluff. another short one . heh.
Vera’s Voice! i just need that bad. please aubrey if u can hear me…. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE
Your phone buzzes against your nightstand, the screen glowing in the dark. You don’t even have to look—you already know who it is.
Aubrey.
It’s late. Stupidly late. She should be sleeping, should be curled up on the team bus or tucked into some hotel bed hours ago. But she always does this. Always calls after road games, no matter the time, no matter how exhausted she must be.
And, of course, you always answer.
The second you pick up, her voice comes through, soft and a little breathless.
“Hi,” she hums, stretching the word out lazily, like she’s been waiting all day just to say it.
You smile, rolling onto your side, already sinking into the warmth of her voice. “Aubs,” you murmur. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
There’s a quiet giggle, light and airy, and God. Your stomach flips at the sound. You’d never admit it, but it gets you every time—the way she laughs when she’s tired, like it spills out of her without her even realizing.
You shake your head, amused. “You’re gonna pass out mid-sentence.”
“Maybe,” she giggles again, and you swear you could melt right there, “but at least I’ll pass out happy.”
Your heart clenches in the best way possible. You can hear how drained she is—the slight rasp to her voice, the way her words are coming slower, heavier. But there’s something else there too. A kind of lightness. Like just hearing you is enough to ease whatever weight she’s been carrying all day.
“You played amazing,” you murmur, keeping your voice soft, soothing.
She sighs, like she’s sinking into your words. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say, like it’s the easiest truth in the world.
Another pause, then a sleepy little hum. “I like when you tell me that.”
You bite your lip, grinning into the dark. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mhmm.” There’s another quiet giggle, more breath than sound, and you swear your heart stops. She sounds so soft, so utterly content.
Then, after a beat—so quiet you almost miss it:
“I just like when you talk. Feels nice.”
You exhale, something warm curling in your chest. If she were here, you know she’d be all tangled up against you, her forehead pressed into your shoulder, arms loose around your waist. She’d be smiling into your skin, half-asleep, mumbling things she won’t even remember in the morning.
You let your voice drop to a whisper. “Then sleep, Aubs. I’ll stay.”
She doesn’t answer right away, just another hum of agreement. Then, barely above a whisper, so soft and certain—
“Yeah. Stay.”
And so you do.
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Summary: You catch her in a fib, or… maybe not a fib at all.
Word Count: 570+
Disclaimer/s — Literally nothing, I’m just sick tbh 🤦♀️
A/N: AUBREY GRIFFIN. IF YOU CAN HEAR ME. IF YOU. HI. Idk, I thought about this yesterday and I was like oh heck yes
When you saw the video of Aubrey saying she was pretty good at drawing, you can’t lie—you definitely quirked a brow. In fact, when she finally returned home, the first thing you did was burst out laughing at her. Quickly covering your face.
“Aubrey—” you say through giggles, staring down at the drawings you managed to find and setting them down on the counter. “Sorry, the drawings.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “Huh? What’s up with you?”
Rounding the table, she falls into step beside you, eyes zeroing in on the counter where her drawings lie. Her cheeks flush. “I wasn’t even trying! It was—oh, shut up. It was a competition!”
“No, they’re nice! I just saw a video of you saying that…” your voice trails off, eyes flickering up to meet hers. Aubrey looks genuinely conflicted, and you feel your expression soften. “Okay, show me what you got.” Grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil, you set them down on the table and sit her in one of the chairs. “Draw me something please.”
“‘Draw me something’ is crazy?! What even for?”
Narrowing your eyes, you grab the pencil and gently place it into her palm. “I just want to see. I’ve never actually seen you draw… anything.”
Not able to find it in her to refuse, she lets out a huff and does as told. This was uncalled for. Extremely uncalled for. So what if you saw a video, probably the one where she said she liked to draw? She knew you weren’t laughing at her because of that. The video might’ve been the one where someone gathered photos from a drawing competition she did a while back, basing her talent off those. With another huff, Aubrey tilts her head, her tongue sticking out the corner.
After five minutes pass, you see her look up from across the table. “I’m done. Can you hurry up?”
“Patience is a virtue, Aubs,” you reply. “Show it!”
With that, Aubrey grabs the paper and lifts it up. The sight makes you frown… in a good way, of course. It displays both of you, but it seems like she only focused on you, given the amount of detail on you compared to the less detail on her.
Oh, my God. You’d laughed in her face about this.
Your eyes widen as you rise to your feet. “…I’ve underestimated you.” You get a better look at it.
“Have I convinced you yet?” She smiled softly.
You take it from her. “Yeah, you’ve convinced me.”
Feeling quite proud of herself, Aubrey stands up and stretches. “That was nice. But I need to take a shower. Please don’t fall asleep without me.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you murmur, still dazed.
Aubrey chuckles at your demeanor, placing a quick kiss on your cheekbone before brushing past you and disappearing into your room.
Gazing at the sketched paper, an idea sparks in your mind, and you head over to the small storage closet, grabbing an empty grey picture frame.
Perfect.
Carefully removing the back, you slip her drawing inside and close it back up, setting it down on the couch’s side table. It looked like it fit right there.
Oh, and to her dismay, you fell asleep without her. However, Aubrey didn’t mind when she saw you cozily asleep on the couch; her face softened even more at the sight of her drawing on display.
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) — @pedriache + @spidybaby + @lechrts + @levidazai + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ (HI. HI. HI. HI. HOW ARE WE FEELING…)
Summary: In which he scores his first goal for Barcelona, and amidst the rush, his gaze, as if on instinct, finds yours and…
Word Count: 475+
Disclaimer/s — Suuuuuper short, but this was really cute! I wasn’t sure how to insert the fact that he revealed his relationship by doing what he did, so let’s just ignore that :3
A/N: NOBODY SAY A FUCKING WORDDDD. 4-4, but hi pau’s header, pedri banger, martinez is home, and unc redeemed. This was a request made by @redbulldoesntgiveyouwings, saying, ‘Reader is dating pau in secret and they reveal it when he scores by him pointing at her in the stands.’ Thank you! 🤍
Today was one of the rare days you were able to physically watch Pau’s game instead of it being displayed on your television or even on your phone. It wasn’t exactly planned, but when he invited you and your family, who were you to say no? It wasn’t like anyone knew you were dating. You’d be watching the game like everybody else.
As much as the two of you wanted to let people know about your relationship, you just weren’t sure. Though with each day that passed and you grew more serious, you knew it would be soon.
Very soon.
It had only been a minute when Atlético Madrid scored their first goal. What an amazing start for them! Meanwhile, you and your family were on the edge of your seats. They’d come back. They would, and they did when Pedri scored his beautifully done goal just eighteen minutes later.
By then, it was already two-to-one, but it’s fine!
They had won a corner, and your gaze instantly narrowed with focus. You watched as the opposing team was quick to guard, but you were only focusing on your boyfriend. From here, you could see his determination radiating off him.
Then, slowly, in your eyes, the ball was in the air. Raphinha whipped in a cross from a corner to pick out Pau at the far post. The boy timed his jump to nod the ball right into the back of the net.
You stood up from your seat almost immediately.
“Oh, my God,” you repeated over and over again.
He just scored.
A header at that, his first goal since his debut.
The stadium erupts into cheers. You were sure you and your family were the loudest. They had all joined you, standing up, clapping and waving their arms in the air, even jumping up and down. Or maybe that was just you. You weren’t aware.
Your boyfriend is quick to rush toward the barrier, the crowd hollering and screaming while he kisses the badge of his jersey. That’s when you notice his arm out and his finger pointing… wow!
Right at you. Oh, he was so insanely sick for that. Your heart practically melted. Your already wide smile broadens, and you quickly shoot him a thumbs up, going right back to applauding. You watch as his teammates quickly chase after him, offering their equal excitement and enthusiasm.
The part that got you was that nobody could truly tell who he was pointing at. Not that it mattered to you; this moment meant everything and more.
Feeling a nudge to your side, you see your mom from the corner of your eye. No doubt she is as excited as you. You simply lean into her slightly.
This was really all he could have ever dreamed of, and he was even happier you were there to see it.
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) — @pedriache + @spidybaby + @lechrts + @levidazai + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ (yes, this was a while (?) ago, just shhhh…)
Summary: When Paige is Azzi’s wingman and quite frankly embarrasses her a little..
Word Count: 900+
Disclaimer/s: This was so stupid and i actually couldn’t stop chuckling. Paige cameo tho. LMFKSOAOAA
It was a nice afternoon, the kind where campus wasn’t so overwhelming. The sun was out, but there’s a cool breeze that makes the walk bearable. You had your headphones in, half-listening to a playlist, half-focused on where you’re going. It’s one of those moments where you’re just existing, taking in the sound of footsteps on pavement, the chatter of students passing by, the occasional distant laughter.
And then—
Thud.
Something bounces hard against the pavement in front of you, skidding to a stop just inches from your foot.
You jolt, instinctively taking a step back, blinking down at..
A basketball..?
Before you can even process where it came from, someone moves past you, effortlessly scooping it up in one smooth motion.
“Sorry about that.”
You look up, and—oh.
Azzi? Fudd? Girl bye.
She stood there, holding the ball under one arm, slightly out of breath but still composed.
She’s wearing a hoodie, sleeves pushed up, shorts that suggest she’s either coming from practice or on her way to one. Her hair’s pulled back, but a few strands have slipped free, framing her face. She looks at you with an apologetic half-smile, shifting the ball in her grip.
“I swear that wasn’t supposed to happen.”
You blink, still caught up in the sudden shift from a peaceful walk to a near-death-by-basketball.
“Trying to shoot into an invisible basket?” You quirked a brow, teasing.
Azzi huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “No, just bad aim.” She glances over her shoulder, and you follow her gaze—
A few yards away, the campus superstar was standing with her hands on her hips, looking way too pleased with herself.
Paige.
“Took you long enough, Fudd!” The blonde calls out. “Make the move!”
Azzi squeaked, nearly turning red before she muttered something under her breath, looking back to you. “She does this on purpose, I swear.”
You glance between them, putting the pieces together. “Wait… was this, like, planned?”
Azzi grimaces like she wants to deny it, but Paige is already making things worse.
“More like assisted,” Paige approaches you both, way too smug.
Azzi groans. You can see her fingers tighten around the basketball like she’s considering launching it right back at Paige’s head.
You bite back a smile. “Is this how you usually introduce yourself?”
Azzi exhales, dragging a hand down her face. “Not exactly how I pictured it.”
Now that you think about it, you do recognize her from more than just basketball.
“She wasn’t gonna do it if I didn’t step in so—“ Paige spoke up.
Azzi groaned, pushing her friend back. “Can you. Walk away. Like real quick.” She was a little flustered.
Paige bit down a grin, glancing between the two of you. “Aight, my bad.” She nodded, listening to Azzi’s request as she walked off to stand a good distance away.
“Uhm… You’re in my econ class, right?” You ask, trying to deflect the tension.
Her eyes flick back to yours, surprised for a second before she nods. “Oh! Yeah. I was gonna say—I’ve seen you in there.”
That catches you off guard.
You figured someone like Azzi had better things to focus on than random classmates, but here she is, confirming she has noticed you.
“That’s funny,” You say, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “Didn’t think you’d recognize me.”
She tilts her head, like that’s ridiculous. “You sit a few rows ahead of me. I see you in there all the time.”
Your stomach does something weird at that—not a full flip, but maybe a half one.
Azzi doesn’t seem to notice your brief mental spiral, though. Instead, she nods toward you, almost casual. “And uh.. you went to the game last night, right?”
You blink, surprised again. “Yeah, actually. How’d you know?”
Her lips twitch like she’s holding back a smile. “Saw you in the stands.”
Now that makes your stomach flip.
You recover quickly, clearing your throat. “Well, since we’re talking about it—you played really good. It was fun to watch.”
Azzi shifts her grip on the ball, looking down for a second before meeting your gaze again. Her voice is quieter when she says, “Thanks.”
For a second, it’s just quiet. Not awkward, but lingering. Like there’s something else waiting to be said.
Azzi rolls the ball between her fingers, exhaling like she’s deciding something in real-time. Then—
“Well,” she starts, glancing briefly at Paige before shaking her head. “Since I already got ambushed into this, might as well go for it.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Go for what?”
She straightens slightly. “Do you wanna grab dinner sometime?”
It’s simple, like she’s trying not to make a big deal of it. But there’s something there—not nervousness, exactly, but maybe anticipation. Like she cares about the answer.
You let the question hang for just a second longer than necessary, just to watch her shift on her feet.
Then, finally—
“Yeah, actually,” You say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.”
Azzi exhales, the tension in her shoulders disappearing almost instantly. “Cool.”
Paige, meanwhile, lets out a very loud, very obvious cheer. “Let’s goooo!”
Neither of you turn to acknowledge her. Azzi just shakes her head, grinning now, eyes still on you.
And, yeah.
Maybe this assist wasn’t so bad after all.
likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list
vera’s voice!!!! I ACTUALLT CANT THIS WAS SO DUMB PAIGE KILLS ME
Summary: When you’re braiding her hair and she doesn’t want you to stop!
Word Count: 300+
Disclaimer/s: gay. gay gay. fluff. gay.
Vera’s Voice! i need her so bad alright. Hi Enya. Ik what u r.
The apartment is warm with the low hum of conversation, laughter spilling from different corners of the room. Someone’s got music playing—something chill, blending into the background of half-finished takeout and an abandoned game of Uno on the coffee table.
It’s just one of those easy nights, where no one’s in a rush to leave, and everyone is tangled up in their own little moments.
You’re sitting on the couch, legs crossed, Aubrey settled between them. It had started absentmindedly—your fingers threading through her hair, twisting it into a loose braid without much thought. She didn’t comment, just let out a little huff when you first started, something nonchalant like, “Sure. Do whatever.”
But you’d caught the way her posture shifted, the way she’d melted back against your legs, phone loose in her hands. She hadn’t even been paying attention to whatever conversation was happening around the room.
You’d taken your time, fingers working through the soft strands, occasionally letting your nails graze over her scalp just to see if she’d react. And oh, she did. The smallest shiver. The barely-there tilt of her head, like she wanted you to keep going.
Suddenly, someone else perked up. “Ooooh, braid mine next?” Jana grinned from her seat.
You nodded, barely getting your hands out of Aubrey’s hair before she shifts against you.
Then fully leans back, pressing into your legs.
You glance down just as she turns her head slightly, looking up at you with a raised brow. “Uh, I don’t think you’re finished?” She murmurs, voice soft, a little expectant.
Your lips part in surprise before they slowly curl into a smirk. “Oh?” You tease, tilting your head.
Aubrey rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t move away. If anything, she presses back even more, like she’s making a point. Like she wants you to keep touching her.
There’s something smug in the way you hum, fingers already reaching back for her braid, gently undoing it so you can start again.
This time, you take your time, letting your fingers brush over her skin deliberately, feeling the way she relaxes against you.
“Guess I can’t leave you unsatisfied then, hm?” you tease, voice dropping just slightly.
Aubrey’s ears tint a shade of red. “Shut up.”
But she doesn’t move.
And you don’t stop.
likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list!
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