── .✦ 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.
Coming soon….. plz intak / piwon lovers flock to me I don’t bite Heh…..
TAG LIST OPEN BTW! LMK.
DISCLAIMER + TROPES: NON idol au, perfectionist!reader, childhood rivals to adult lovers, jock x nerd (squint a bit if you can’t see it ok), black cat/golden retriever, he fell first she fell harder! (squint again if u can’t see it k shhhh…) littlebrother!jongseob LMAOO, shota is ur brothers friend who is anywhere but his own house, uhhhhh BFF!JIUNG !!!! Hmmm mentions of menace!taeho aka mr hoots and mr holler. Please. Then yeah, random mentions of other idols bc Free will, and LASTLY !!!! intak annoying as hell but who is surprised really. just EVIL… ish. warnings for Cursing , and minor mentions of violence…. bc U hate him that much. sorry i’m such a D1 hater #Srry
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