Want so Bad Han Jisung x Reader x Lee Minho

"Love is so intuitive everything changes"

Rain slipped down the tall windows of the practice building like the sky was trying to smudge everything out. It had been falling since morning, soft at first, then steadily louder, until it created a white noise that wrapped around the campus like a heavy blanket. In Studio A, the thud of sneakers on polished wood echoed with every sharp turn and footfall.

Minho moved like he was built from rhythm—fluid when the music demanded softness, razor-sharp when the tempo demanded precision. The studio was nearly empty except for the low track playing through the Bluetooth speaker and the three boys slouched near the back wall: Jisung, Changbin, and Chris.

Chris clapped halfheartedly. "You know, for someone who's not in 3RACHA, you show up to rehearsal like you are."

Minho didn't miss a beat, grabbing his water bottle and spinning it in one hand. "If I wasn't here, your choreography would still be one hop away from embarrassing."

"Hey," Chris said, laughing. "That was one time. And the floor was slippery."

"We were indoors," Jisung chimed in. "And you were wearing dance shoes."

Changbin snorted but stayed mostly quiet, arms folded, his gaze flicking between Minho and Jisung every few seconds. It hadn't escaped him—the way Minho had been quieter lately when Y/N was around. The way Jisung seemed tense anytime Minho's name came up. Or how Minho lingered just a little longer in places she happened to be.

There was something forming there. Something thick in the air. And Changbin didn't like it.

Chris shoved a towel at Jisung and grabbed his phone. "Okay, let's take five and run the set again. Sound check's at six, and you know they're going to give us hell if we're late."

They all nodded, stretching and rotating their shoulders. 3RACHA had been pulling longer hours lately, especially after their last underground gig exploded on social media. There were whispers now—blog articles, anonymous posts, TikToks theorizing about the members and their personal lives. With fame came speculation, and with speculation came lies.

Y/N had been mentioned more than once.

A girl in the background. A sibling. A mystery.

Rumors whispered that she and Changbin came from a wealthy family—that they were industry plants. That 3RACHA's rise wasn't earned but paid for. And the siblings? They never said a word about where they were from.

So the rumors stuck.

As they prepped for another run-through, Minho caught Changbin looking at him, hard.

"What?" Minho said, raising a brow.

Changbin tilted his head. "Just wondering how long you plan on staring at my sister before you do something stupid."

The air snapped.

Chris looked up sharply. Jisung froze.

Minho blinked slowly, smile fading. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Changbin said. "And you," he added, turning to Jisung. "I see the way you look at her too. You both do. Like she's some kind of prize to figure out."

Jisung opened his mouth, but Changbin kept going. "She's not a puzzle. She's not something you get to win. She's been through hell, and the last thing she needs is either of you making it harder."

The room went quiet.

Chris cleared his throat. "Alright, let's take ten."

Minho looked down at the floor, jaw tense. He didn't argue. Jisung looked like someone had hit him in the chest.