the rule we broke
Pairing: Han Jisung x Lee Minho x Female!Reader (poly)
Genre: angst, smut, hurt/comfort, idol!au, poly!skz
Summary: You swore one rule when this relationship began: always together. No secrets. No exclusions. But rules are fragile when desire and exhaustion collide, and you find yourself on the outside of something you thought was unbreakable.
(It’s a decently long story… got carried away lol)
You always thought the hardest part of dating idols would be the secrecy.
The way your life had to be lived in shadows, tucked between stylists’ chairs and backstage hallways, pretending your touches were professional when your hands knew the exact shape of their bones beneath the skin.
But no… secrecy wasn’t the hardest part.
It was trust.
It was the rule that the three of you whispered into each other’s mouths the night everything started:
“We do this together. Always.”
You didn’t even remember who said it first. Maybe it was Jisung, nervous laughter tangled with the heat of confession. Maybe it was Minho, voice steady but eyes softer than anyone else ever got to see. Maybe it was you, desperate to believe this fragile thing could work.
It didn’t matter. You’d all agreed.
One rule. That was all.
⸻
At first, it worked.
Stolen nights in dorm rooms that smelled faintly of fabric softener and sweat. Hotel rooms after concerts, curtains pulled tight against city lights. Quick touches backstage when you were still holding curling irons, when Jisung would grin too wide and Minho would shove him but then lace his fingers with yours just out of sight.
Always together.
Even when schedules split you apart, they’d wait. Even when exhaustion made their bones heavy, they’d hold off until all three of you could breathe in the same rhythm again.
Until the night you heard them.
⸻
The dorm walls weren’t thick. You’d stayed late, cleaning up after styling for a shoot, waiting for them to finish practice. You thought you were alone in the living room.
But then….
A sound.
Not laughter. Not the usual chaos of SKZ.
A stifled gasp. A muffled moan.
You froze, curling iron still warm in your hand, as heat spread like betrayal through your chest. You didn’t want to know. You wanted to stop hearing. But your feet moved, traitorous, carrying you closer to the crack of the door left ajar.
Minho’s voice. Low. Sharp. Please.
Jisung’s laugh, breathless, breaking apart into a moan that sounded too much like worship.
You didn’t remember how long you stood there. Didn’t remember how you made it out before anyone saw you.
You only remembered the sound of them together without you.
Breaking the only rule.
Breaking you.
You should have turned away.
Should have shut the door, shut your heart, shut your ears.
But you didn’t.
You stood there, stomach twisting, throat tightening, as the sounds bled out into the hallway.
Soft, wet noises. Jisung’s voice, cracking like he couldn’t breathe through the pleasure. Minho’s low, demanding, punctured with those little grunts you’d memorized on your own skin.
Your body remembered them. Your body flinched.
Your fingers dug into your palm hard enough to hurt, but it didn’t anchor you. You couldn’t move. You were suspended in it, hanging in the sick ache of knowing.
And then….
Minho’s voice, sharp, commanding: “Look at me.”
Jisung, whimpering, almost crying with pleasure: “Hyunggg fuck, please”
Something shattered inside you.
Not because they loved each other. You knew they did. You’d always known. That was why it worked, why the three of you worked, because the love wasn’t one-way, wasn’t uneven. You’d cherished it. Believed in it.
It shattered because of the one rule.
Always together.
And here you were, in the hall, not even a shadow in the room, not even thought of.
You couldn’t breathe.
You pushed the door open.
⸻
The room froze.
Bodies tangled, sheets half-kicked down, skin flushed, breathless.
Jisung’s eyes went wide, pupils blown but suddenly so scared, his lips parted like he’d forgotten how to speak.
Minho’s head jerked up, hair damp against his forehead, mouth pressed into a hard line as his chest heaved.
For a beat, none of you spoke.
The air was too heavy, the sound of Jisung’s wrecked breathing still hanging between all of you like evidence, undeniable and cruel.
Then..
“…Y/N.” Minho’s voice was low. Too low. Like if he raised it, everything would splinter worse than it already had.
You couldn’t answer. Your throat was too raw.
Jisung scrambled to sit up, tugging the sheet with him like modesty could erase what you’d heard, what you’d seen. His lips trembled around words that didn’t make it out.
You laughed. Sharp. Broken. It wasn’t even really laughter, just a sound clawed out of your chest because the silence was unbearable.
“You…” Your voice cracked, tearing down the middle. “You promised.”
Minho closed his eyes. Briefly. Like the weight of your voice was heavier than anything pressing on his body.
Jisung’s hands shook. “We-” His breath came too fast. “We didn’t-we weren’t trying to-“
“Weren’t trying to what?” you snapped, the words slicing through your own tears. “Weren’t trying to break me? Weren’t trying to make me feel like I don’t matter?”
“No!” Jisung’s voice broke, high and desperate. “No, that’s not-fuck, no, it wasn’t like that-“
But it was.
It was exactly like that.
Minho sat there, still, jaw tight enough you could see the muscle jump. He didn’t rush to excuse himself. He didn’t rush to explain. He only looked at you. Looked at you like the damage was already done and he couldn’t stop watching you burn anyway.
And it hurt worse than anything.
Because his silence was louder than Jisung’s panic.
Because you loved them. Both of them. And they loved each other. And you’d believed, stupidly, that loving all together meant never being left behind.
You stepped back. The door frame dug into your spine, grounding you, stopping you from collapsing.
“Always together.” Your voice shook, but you forced the words out, nails biting your palm. “That was the only rule. The only thing I asked. And you… you”
Minho finally moved. Reached forward, not even thinking, not even covering himself, just reaching for you like instinct. “Y/N-”
You flinched back.
And the look on his face-
Like you’d slapped him. Like you’d torn something out of his chest.
Jisung choked on a sob, the sound raw, ugly. He was crying now, tears cutting down his cheeks fast, words tumbling out without sense. “Please, please don’t leave, we didn’t mean… we should’ve.. fuck, please-”
Your vision blurred, hot and wet.
You turned.
You walked.
The door shut behind you with a thud that echoed long after your footsteps faded.
For a long, hollow moment, there was only silence.
Jisung sat frozen on the bed, sheet bunched up in his fists, his whole body trembling like a string pulled too tight. His chest rose and fell too fast, shallow gasps that weren’t catching enough air. His lips were swollen, wet, his eyes red already.
Minho sat straighter, still, staring at the door like he could pull you back through it if he just willed hard enough. His hands curled into fists against his thighs. His jaw worked once, twice.
Then Jisung’s voice cracked through the room.
“Hyung…” It was nothing more than a whisper, raw and small. “We… what the fuck did we just do?”
Minho didn’t answer right away. His throat bobbed. He exhaled slow, a sharp hiss through his teeth.
Jisung wiped at his face with the heel of his palm, hard, almost angry at the wetness there. But the tears wouldn’t stop, only smeared red across his skin. “She…. she was crying. Hyung, she was crying.”
His voice pitched higher, breaking. “do you get it? She heard us. She saw us. She thought we didn’t want her.”
Minho’s head turned finally, eyes dark, searching Jisung’s. “That’s not true.”
“I know it’s not true!” Jisung snapped back, his words frantic, choked. “But that’s what it looked like, that’s what it sounded like to her—fuck, she thinks we left her out—“
Minho’s brows knit. “We didn’t leave her out. She simply wasn’t here.”
Jisung stared at him, stunned. “Hyung.”
Minho lifted a hand, raking it through his hair, tugging a little too hard at the roots. His voice stayed steady, but low, the way it always did when he was sorting through something in his head. “We’re together all the time. I sleep with you. I sleep with her. She sleeps with you. That doesn’t change. She knows that.”
Jisung’s throat made a strangled noise, halfway between a laugh and a sob. “You don’t get it.”
“I do.” Minho’s voice sharpened. “She’s jealous. She’ll calm down.”
“No, hyung.” Jisung shook his head violently, tears flying off his lashes. His breath came faster again, panic crawling into his chest. “It’s not about jealousy, it’s about the rule. You remember the fucking rule? Always together. Always. We broke it. We broke it and she…” His voice cracked apart. “She thinks we don’t want her.”
Minho blinked at him, mouth parting just slightly. “That doesn’t make sense. I want her. You want her. We both want her. She knows that.”
“You don’t get it!” Jisung’s shout shook, voice splitting with desperation. His hands clutched at the sheet like it could keep him from falling apart. “She doesn’t care if we love each other. she loves that we love each other. But she wants to be there. She doesn’t want to be left out. We promised we wouldn’t leave her out!”
Minho’s lips pressed tight. His eyes darted to the door again. His silence stretched, heavy, unreadable.
Jisung’s hands dropped into his lap, defeated, shaking. He whispered, broken: “We hurt her. And she’s never gonna believe us when we say it wasn’t on purpose. Because we knew the rule. And we still…” He cut himself off with a sob, pressing his fist to his mouth, body curling inward.
Minho finally spoke, voice even, measured. “We didn’t mean to hurt her. She’ll understand that.”
“Hyung.” Jisung looked at him through wet lashes, disbelief cutting sharper than his tears. “You really don’t understand, do you?”
Minho’s gaze softened at that. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look guilty, not in the way Jisung did. He just looked… confused. Like there was a piece missing from a puzzle he couldn’t force into place.
“She’s upset,” he said, slow, careful. “But she’s wrong. I don’t love her less. I don’t love you less. Nothing changes just because it was only us this time.”
Jisung’s chest heaved, frustration clawing through the grief. “It changes to her. Don’t you get it? It changes everything for her.”
Minho tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “But why? She’s fine when I kiss you in front of her. She doesn’t mind when we.. when I touch you. She likes watching. She’s never upset then. Why is it different now?”
Jisung’s lips trembled. “Because she wasn’t in it this time. Because we made her feel like she didn’t belong. And that’s the one thing she’s terrified of, hyung.”
Minho’s shoulders slumped just slightly, the first visible crack. His fingers flexed against his knee. He didn’t say anything.
Jisung dragged in a shaky breath, voice dropping to a whisper, broken and hoarse. “She’s not mad that we love each other. She’s mad that we left her behind.”
The silence afterward was suffocating.
Minho just stared at the door again, eyes dark, unreadable, chest rising and falling steady like he was clinging to the rhythm.
Jisung curled in on himself, sheet tangled around his waist, sobs muffled against his palm.
You didn’t sleep that night.
You lay in your own bed, staring at the ceiling until the shadows turned into daylight, blinking back every tear that wouldn’t stop coming.
The sound of them together replayed in your head, over and over, like a song stuck on repeat, except it wasn’t a song… it was the breaking of the only promise you’d ever asked for.
You scrubbed your hands over your face until your skin stung. You tried to tell yourself it was stupid, that you were overreacting. That they loved you, that they always had, always would. That this was just one mistake.
But then your chest cracked all over again because it wasn’t about love. It was about being seen. Being wanted. Being included.
And last night proved you weren’t.
⸻
When you walked into work the next morning, your smile was painted on. Perfect. Unshakable.
You pulled your kit behind you, you greeted the staff, you set up the curling iron like nothing inside of you had crumbled into ash.
The members filed in one by one, yawning, laughing, complaining about early call times. Normal.
But your eyes caught on them.
Jisung looked destroyed.
His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed in red that makeup couldn’t hide, his lips chewed raw. He wouldn’t stop glancing at you, quick, guilty flicks like he was scared to look too long and scared not to.
Minho, though… Minho was calm. Collected. His expression unreadable, his posture relaxed as he dropped into the chair in front of you like nothing was wrong. Like you hadn’t caught them. Like you hadn’t walked out.
The difference gutted you.
You kept your hands steady as you sectioned his hair, but your chest ached so violently you thought you might actually drop the brush.
Minho’s eyes flicked up in the mirror, watching you. “You didn’t sleep.”
You froze, brush caught mid-air.
His voice was flat. Observant. Like a fact, not a question.
You forced your hand to move again, pretending nothing trembled. “Neither did you.”
His gaze lingered on you through the mirror. Then, simply: “No.”
The silence pressed heavy between you.
And then Jisung appeared at your side, voice small, brittle. “Noona…”
You didn’t look at him. You didn’t dare. If you did, you’d crack wide open right here, in front of everyone.
“Sit,” you said, too calm, too clipped, pointing to the next chair.
He obeyed instantly, eyes darting between you and Minho, panic written all over his face.
The other members chatted, oblivious. The staff bustled around. And you stood there, dying quietly, pretending everything was fine.
⸻
Later, when the schedules ended and the dorm lights dimmed again, Jisung found you.
You were stuffing hair products into your bag, movements too sharp, too mechanical.
“Y/N.” His voice wobbled. “Please, can we…”
“No.” You didn’t look up.
His breath hitched. “We didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Your laugh came sharp, broken. “You didn’t mean to get caught, you mean.”
Jisung flinched like you’d slapped him. His hands twisted together. “No, that’s not… fuck, no, please, you can’t think that. We weren’t… hyung and I, it wasn’t—” His words tangled, useless, spilling like a flood. Tears blurred his eyes again, already threatening.
Your chest cracked, because he looked so ruined. Because you loved him. Because this was the boy who held your face like it was made of glass, who whispered always together into your mouth like it was a prayer.
And he’d broken it.
“Jisung.” You finally looked at him. Your voice was shaking, but sharp enough to cut. “It doesn’t matter what you meant. You did it. You left me out.”
His tears spilled, streaming down his cheeks. He nodded too quickly, frantic, like he agreed with every blade you pressed into him. “I know. I know. I’m so sorry. I just…. I wasn’t thinking, and hyung was there, and I thought… fuck, I thought it didn’t matter because we’d be with you later…”
“Later,” you repeated, your chest burning. “So I’m an afterthought now?”
His face crumpled. He shook his head violently, stumbling forward a step, hands reaching before he stopped himself. “No. No, you’re everything. You’re… you’re—” He broke, voice wrecked with sobs. “You’re the only reason this works at all. I don’t want anything without you, I swear. Please believe me. Please.”
The words dug into you, painful, too sincere. And it hurt worse because you wanted to believe him.
But the image was still there. His voice breaking into a moan under Minho’s, without you.
You shoved your bag onto your shoulder and turned away before you drowned in it all over again.
And that’s when you heard Minho’s voice from the doorway.
“She’s overreacting.”
Your whole body went cold.
Jisung whipped around, eyes wide, horror-struck. “Hyung!!”
Minho leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, gaze steady on you. Not cruel. Not smug. Just… calm. Too calm.
“She knows we love her. We didn’t do anything wrong.”
The air in the room went sharp, brittle.
You stared at him, chest collapsing, words clawing at your throat.
Jisung’s voice broke, shouting: “She doesn’t care about that! Don’t you get it?” He spun to Minho, tears streaming again. “She’s not upset that we love each other… she’s upset that we didn’t include her!”
Minho tilted his head, frown faint. “We include her all the time.”
“That’s not the same!” Jisung’s voice cracked. “We promised. Always together. It was the only thing she asked, hyung!”
Minho blinked at him, lips parting. He looked at you then, brow furrowed, like he was searching for something he couldn’t grasp.
“Why is it different?” he asked, steady, quiet. “You’re fine when I touch Jisung in front of you. You even like watching. Why is it different if it happens without you?”
Your chest twisted.
Because you weren’t there. Because you were excluded. Because it was the one thing you feared more than anything…. being unnecessary to them.
But your voice broke instead. “Because it means I don’t matter.”
The silence after that was suffocating.
Jisung collapsed onto the couch, sobbing openly now, head in his hands.
Minho just stood there, still, eyes locked on you, expression unreadable.
Like he wanted to understand. Like he couldn’t.
“Because it means I don’t matter.”
The words left you raw, torn out of your chest like you were bleeding them into the air.
And then silence… thick, suffocating, unbearable.
Until Jisung surged forward.
“No!!!! no, don’t say that, don’t you ever say that..” His voice cracked as he stumbled towards you, tears running down his face.
He reached for you, hands shaking, desperate to touch, to hold, to prove…
And you shoved him.
Not lightly. Not playfully. Hard.
Your palms slammed into his chest and he staggered back with a gasp, his foot hitting the edge of the coffee table as he crashed down to the floor. The sound of it echoed, sharp and brutal.
His wide eyes looked up at you, glassy and devastated, tears clinging to his lashes. Like he couldn’t believe you’d actually done it. Like it broke him more than your words ever could.
And Minho exploded.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!”
The sound of his voice split the air like thunder. Not the calm, measured Minho who always spoke low and sharp like a knife. No… this was yelling. A roar ripped out of his chest, trembling the walls.
You flinched, heart seizing. Jisung scrambled on the floor, startled, small, curling into himself as Minho’s fury filled the room.
“You don’t touch him like that!” Minho’s face twisted, his fists clenched so tight the veins stood out along his arms. His whole body shook with the force of it, his breathing ragged, his jaw locked. “You don’t hurt him just because you’re upset!”
The rage in his voice cut through you, jagged and brutal.
“Hyung!!” Jisung croaked from the floor, eyes wide, panicked, already shaking his head. “Stop, it’s not… she didn’t—”
But Minho didn’t stop.
“You think you’re the only one hurting?” His voice was venom and fire, his eyes blazing. “You think you’re the only one who’s scared of being left out? Jisung is breaking himself in half because he thinks he ruined everything, and you push him?”
His chest heaved, eyes locked on yours like he could burn the truth into you by force.
“You don’t ever ever lay a hand on him like that again.”
The silence afterward was unbearable, your own ragged breathing the only sound.
Jisung sat on the floor between you both, trembling, sobbing, shaking his head as if he could erase all of it if he just denied it hard enough. His hands fisted in his own shirt, knuckles white, voice broken.
“Please… please stop, please don’t fight”
Your chest split, because this was never what you wanted. Because you loved them both, with every part of yourself, and yet here you were… breaking them, being broken by them.
Minho’s glare didn’t waver. His voice came again, lower this time, but seething, trembling with an emotion you’d never heard from him before.
“You say you don’t matter? Don’t you dare insult me like that. Don’t you dare tell me the person I crawl into bed with every night doesn’t matter. Don’t you dare tell me the person I let see everything I am doesn’t matter. Because if you don’t matter… then I don’t either.”
His words cut like knives, every syllable sharp and aching.
“And if you really believe that,” he finished, his voice trembling with fury and something like desperation, “then maybe you don’t know me at all.”
The weight of it pressed down, crushing.
Jisung sobbed harder, torn apart between you both, begging incoherently through his tears.
Your chest heaved. Your hands still stung from the shove, the echo of Jisung’s gasp branded into your bones.
He was still on the floor, shoulders hunched, his tears dripping onto the hardwood. He was trying to speak, but nothing coherent came out, just fragments of pleas and apologies and his voice breaking again and again.
And Minho was a storm.
“You think you’re the only one bleeding?” His voice cracked, hoarse with rage, but underneath it something dangerous… something broken. “Do you even realize how this is impacting us?!”
Your throat tightened. “You broke the rule.”
“Yes, we broke it,” Minho barked back, eyes wild, chest rising and falling like he was about to shatter. “And you act like that means everything else disappears. Like one mistake erases every fucking time we’ve held you, kissed you, sworn to you”
“It wasn’t just a mistake!” Your scream ripped free, sharp enough to burn. “It was the only thing I asked for. Always together. That was it. One rule. One! And you couldn’t even give me that.”
Jisung flinched, covering his ears, a sob catching in his throat.
Minho’s face twisted, raw. His voice rose again, thunder splitting his restraint in half.
“You think it didn’t kill me to see you walk out that door? You think it didn’t tear me apart to see your face when you looked at us like we were strangers? You think I don’t care?!”
His voice cracked so hard the last word splintered.
Jisung finally lifted his head, red and wet and wrecked. “Stop!! please, stop yelling”
But Minho wasn’t finished. He was shaking now, fists trembling at his sides, his jaw tight, his eyes glossed with something that looked dangerously close to tears.
“You keep saying you don’t matter. That we left you out. That we don’t want you. Do you even hear yourself?” His voice fractured, sharp and desperate. “You are the only reason we work. You are the center of everything, the glue that keeps this from falling apart, and you don’t even see it. You don’t even see how much I…”
He stopped himself, the words catching, his throat working like he was choking on them.
Jisung’s sobs grew louder, a broken, keening sound that filled every corner of the room. He crawled forward on shaking hands and knees, clinging to Minho’s leg, his voice shattering.
“Hyung, please, don’t… don’t push her away, don’t push her out, I can’t” He turned, looking at you through a blur of tears, his voice wrecked. “Noona, I can’t lose you. I’ll die if you leave us. Please, I swear I’ll never, i’ll never touch him again without you, I’ll never break the rule again, please just don’t go.”
His words gutted you, the sheer terror in his voice ripping through your anger. He was on his knees, holding onto Minho like he was drowning, his face wet and ruined.
Minho’s hands finally shook open, dragging down his face like he was clawing himself raw. His voice dropped, low and hoarse.
“I can’t lose you either. I don’t know how to say it right. I don’t know how to be soft like him. But if you leave… I’m nothing.”
The room fell into silence again, except for Jisung’s sobs and the sound of your own breathing.
You ignored them.
Not for a night. Not for a day.
For weeks.
You perfected the art of distance. Every smile you gave the boys was practiced, every laugh professional, every touch of your hands in their hair mechanical. You talked to Chan about schedules, to Felix about bleach touch-ups, to Seungmin about toner, to Jeongin about his fringe.
Everyone but them.
The request had been made quietly, strategically, the way you knew how to maneuver through management without suspicion. It wasn’t difficult to convince the coordinator that things ran smoother if you weren’t “distracted” by too many clients at once. Now, officially, you were assigned to all the members… except Jisung and Minho.
The irony of it burned, but it kept you breathing.
Because every time you looked at them, every time your hands hovered too close, you remembered. You remembered Jisung’s moan cracking into the silence. You remembered Minho’s voice steady, sharp. You remembered the broken rule.
So you stayed away.
And it gutted them.
⸻
Jisung started to fall apart first.
He was already fragile after that night, but as the days stretched into weeks, it became unbearable to watch, even from the corner of your eye.
The boy who never stopped talking suddenly sat quiet in green rooms. His hands shook when he fumbled with water bottles. He chewed his lips until they bled, his cuticles raw from tearing at them.
The other members noticed. Seungmin asked once, bluntly, what was wrong. Jisung laughed too loud, too fake, and excused himself to the bathroom. He stayed there for nearly half an hour.
The circles under his eyes darkened. His smiles grew thinner, cracked around the edges. And when he thought no one was looking, his chest heaved too fast, shallow breaths that looked like they couldn’t fill him.
Anxiety had always been a shadow clinging to him but now it was consuming.
And you did nothing.
Because every time you wanted to run to him, every time you wanted to cradle his face and whisper that he wasn’t alone, the memory slammed into you again. His body arching into Minho’s touch. His voice breaking into the night.
Without you.
⸻
Minho lasted longer.
At first, he seemed unaffected. Calm, steady, the same sharp tongue, the same collected demeanor. He even threw himself into his work harder, pushing practice sessions later, his body a machine.
But then Jisung began to crumble and Minho’s cracks began to show.
He tried. At first, he tried.
A glance in the mirror while you styled someone else’s hair. A passing comment, low enough for only you to hear. Even a brush of his hand against yours as he walked by.
You ignored it all.
You didn’t look. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledgment.
And something in him hardened.
His attempts stopped. His voice went sharper, his sarcasm cut deeper, his patience with everyone, including Jisung snapped quicker.
Because he could survive your silence. He could even survive your anger.
But what he couldn’t survive was watching Jisung collapse under it.
⸻
It all came to a head one night after practice.
You were packing up your tools, ready to slip out unnoticed, when Minho cornered you in the hallway.
“Enough,” he said flatly, blocking your way.
Your heart kicked up, but you forced your face calm. “Move.”
“No.” His eyes were sharp, burning, his jaw tight. “You’ve made your point. Weeks of it. We get it, you’re pissed. But this” He jabbed a finger toward the practice room, where Jisung was still sitting on the floor, head buried in his arms, trembling. “This isn’t just about you anymore.”
Your chest clenched, but you lifted your chin. “Don’t you dare put that on me.”
“I’m putting it exactly where it belongs.” His voice sharpened, cutting. “You’re tearing him apart.”
“Me?” The word spat out before you could stop it, your anger sparking hot. “I didn’t break the rule.”
Minho’s nostrils flared. “We fucked up, yeah. Once. But this? Weeks of freezing us out, acting like we don’t exist? You’re punishing him, not me. He’s drowning and you’re letting him choke on it.”
Your breath caught, your nails digging into your palms. “He’s the one who let me stand outside a door listening to him break me.”
“He’s just a twenty-four year old with anxiety!” Minho’s voice finally cracked, louder than you’d ever heard, his composure shattering. “He panics. He doesn’t think. He makes mistakes. And you” His hand slammed against the wall beside your head, the sound making you jump. His eyes were glassy now, his chest heaving. “You’re supposed to be the one who knows how much he loves you anyway.”
Your throat closed, tears stinging at the edges of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Love doesn’t mean shit when I was excluded.”
You shoved past him, bag strap cutting into your shoulder, heart pounding so violently it hurt.
Behind you, Minho’s voice tore out again, louder, angrier, ragged.
“You’re killing him. And if you don’t care about me, at least look at him before you ruin him completely.”
Your steps faltered, just for a moment, just long enough for the weight of it to sink into your ribs.
The night was heavy.
Weeks of silence, sharp words, avoidance. none of it had cracked the wall between you and Minho. Until tonight. Until the hallway, his voice raw with rage, your own chest split open with fury. Until everything the two of you had been holding back, twisting into each other like barbed wire, finally snapped.
Now the dorm was quiet. Too quiet. The others had scattered to their rooms, the hum of a late-night movie still murmuring faintly from somewhere down the hall.
And you were still here. With him.
Minho’s eyes were fire when you looked at him, his body tense where he leaned against the counter in the kitchen. Neither of you had moved since the argument, breaths shallow, silence charged.
You hated him. You loved him. You hated that you loved him.
And then his voice cut through, low and dangerous.
“You gonna keep running? Or you finally gonna face me?”
Your body jolted, anger flaring again. “I’ve been facing you. You’re just too fucking stubborn to see it.”
He pushed off the counter, slow, deliberate. “I see everything, Y/N. I see how you look at him like you’re breaking inside. I see how you look at me like you want to kill me. And you think I don’t notice the way you can’t breathe when we’re in the same room.”
Your throat closed, heat rushing through your veins. “You think you know everything snobby ass”
“I don’t,” he cut in sharply, stepping closer, so close his chest nearly brushed yours. His breath ghosted your lips, his eyes sharp, hungry, furious. “But I know you still want me. Even when you hate me.”
You didn’t mean to. You didn’t plan to. But your hand fisted into his shirt, dragging him down, your mouth crashing into his.
The kiss was violent. Teeth, heat, fury. His lips bruised yours instantly, his hands grabbing your hips with bruising force, pulling you flush against him. You shoved him back into the counter, biting at his mouth like you wanted to punish him, to devour him, to drown in him.
His growl vibrated through your chest as he spun you, caging you against the counter, his hand sliding up your thigh, rough and urgent. “This what you wanted, huh? All that anger… you saving it for me huh?” He says smugly.
You gasped against his lips, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Fuck you.”
“You’re trying.” His mouth trailed hot down your neck, teeth scraping just enough to make you shiver. His hand gripped the back of your neck, forcing your eyes up to his. “You hate me so much, but you’re soaking through your panties right now, aren’t you?”
Your whimper betrayed you, and his smirk cut sharp against your mouth before he kissed you again, deeper, hungrier.
When he dragged your leg up around his waist, grinding into you with rough precision, a broken moan spilled out… and that’s when you heard it.
A sound from the doorway.
You froze. Minho stilled, his chest heaving against yours. Both of you turned your heads.
Jisung.
Standing there, half-hidden by the shadows of the hallway. His eyes wide, lips parted, his whole body trembling.
He looked wrecked, terrified. But he hadn’t run.
Minho’s jaw tightened, his hand still gripping your thigh. He didn’t let go. He didn’t push you away.
“Jisung,” Minho said, his voice hoarse, low, commanding. “Come here.”
Jisung’s breath hitched audibly. He shook his head, just barely, his fingers clutching the frame of the doorway like he needed it to stay upright. “I.. I don’t”
“You’re not out of this.” Your voice came before you realized it, raw and sharp. Your eyes locked on him, your chest heaving. “We said together. You don’t get to stand there and watch. You come here, or it’s broken all over again.”
Jisung whimpered, tears already glossing his lashes, but his body moved… hesitant steps forward, one, two, three… until he was in the kitchen with you, his breathing shallow, his hands shaking at his sides.
Minho’s eyes never left him, his grip on you firm, his body still flush against yours.
“You see this?” Minho’s voice was rough, thick with desire and anger, as his lips brushed your ear. “You see what happens when we finally stop running?”
The silence in the kitchen was unbearable.
Your lips were swollen from Minho’s kiss, your chest rising and falling too fast, your back pressed into the counter. His hands still caged you there, body heat suffocating, anger radiating from him like a second skin.
Across from you, Jisung looked destroyed. Frozen in the doorway, wide-eyed, trembling so hard you could see his knees threatening to buckle. His lips parted, his breathing shallow, caught between fear and need.
Minho glanced at him once, then back to you. His smirk curved sharp, dangerous. “You see that?” His voice was low, rough against your ear. “Even when he’s shaking, he’s here. Because he knows. Because he remembers. Always together.”
Your chest constricted, tears threatening, but your rage bled into desire all over again. You hated that he was right. You hated how much you wanted to feel it, to prove it, to carve that promise into your skin so deep it could never be forgotten.
You grabbed Minho’s shirt and dragged him down, crushing his mouth against yours. The kiss was violent.. teeth clashing, tongues battling, your nails clawing his shoulders hard enough to make him grunt.
Minho’s groan rumbled against your mouth. He shoved a thigh between your legs, grinding upward until you gasped, the friction sparking white heat low in your belly.
“Bedroom,” you panted against his lips, voice breaking. “Now.”
Minho didn’t hesitate. His hand clamped around your wrist, yanking you from the counter. With his other hand he grabbed Jisung’s arm, pulling him along. The younger let out a startled whimper but followed, stumbling after you both as Minho practically dragged the three of you down the hall.
The bedroom door slammed shut behind you.
Minho pushed you onto the mattress in one brutal shove, crawling over you before you could catch your breath. His mouth claimed yours again, all tongue and teeth, his hand sliding under your shirt, gripping hard at your ribs like he wanted to bruise you into remembering.
At the edge of the bed, Jisung hovered, trembling, his chest heaving. He didn’t dare move closer until Minho turned his head, glaring.
“Up here,” Minho ordered.
Jisung swallowed hard, his hands shaking, but he obeyed. He crawled onto the bed, hovering near your side, his wide eyes flicking from you to Minho like he wasn’t sure where to place himself.
Your heart twisted at the sight. His lips trembled when he whispered, “I don’t… I don’t want to ruin it again. I ruined it before… I made the move on Hyung”
You reached for him, cupping his face, pulling him down into a kiss softer, sweeter than the brutal ones Minho gave you. Jisung whimpered into your mouth, tears immediately spilling, his hands clutching at your waist like you were his lifeline.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed desperately. “I’m so sorry, noona. I’ll never… I’ll never let you feel left out again. I’ll do anything, I promise. Please don’t hate me.”
Your throat burned. You kissed him harder, swallowing his sob, your other hand tangled in his hair.
Behind you, Minho chuckled darkly, his mouth trailing down your throat, his teeth scraping against your pulse. “See? Even when he’s begging, it’s for you. Both of us… always for you.”
His hand slipped under your waistband, fingers pressing against your soaked panties. You gasped against Jisung’s lips, your hips jerking helplessly.
“Fuck, she’s soaked,” Minho muttered, his smug tone sending a shiver down your spine. He pressed harder, circling your clit until you whimpered. “So desperate for us even after all that attitude.”
Jisung pulled back just enough to stare, his lips parted, his face red. His hand hovered uncertainly, then finally replaced Minho’s, trembling as he slid a finger over the damp fabric. The sensation made you moan, your body arching up.
“Oh my god,” Jisung whispered, his eyes blown wide. “She’s… she’s really…”
“Dripping,” Minho finished for him, smug. He leaned over, pressing his lips to your ear. “That’s what happens when she finally stops pretending she doesn’t need us.”
You whined, clutching at the sheets, your body betraying you.
“Take them off,” Minho ordered.
Jisung froze. “W-what?”
“Her panties,” Minho said flatly, eyes glinting. “You want to make it right? Start there.”
Jisung’s hands shook, but he obeyed, sliding your underwear down your thighs, his breath hitching when he caught sight of your glistening folds. His cheeks burned crimson, but his eyes never left you.
Minho smirked, shoving Jisung’s hand aside as he slid two fingers inside you without warning. You cried out, your hips jerking.
“So fucking tight,” he muttered, pumping them roughly, curling just right. “Always so greedy for me.”
Jisung whimpered, watching in awe as you writhed under Minho’s touch. His hand hovered uselessly at your thigh until he finally bent down, pressing trembling kisses against your stomach, your hip, desperate to touch you in any way he could.
“Minho… please” you gasped, your body trembling.
“Please what?” he taunted, his pace unforgiving. “Please stop? Please fuck you harder? You’ve gotta be clearer, sweetheart.”
Jisung pressed his lips to your cheek, whispering between your cries. “She wants more… she always wants more.” His tears dripped onto your skin, his voice breaking. “Don’t hold it back, noona. Please don’t hold back with us.”
That undid you.
The heat built until it snapped, your body convulsing around Minho’s fingers as your orgasm ripped through you, sharp and overwhelming. You screamed their names, clutching Jisung’s hand as he kissed your temple frantically, whispering comfort through your sobs.
But Minho wasn’t finished.
He flipped you onto your stomach, one hand pressing firmly between your shoulder blades. He yanked his sweats down, his cock hard and aching against your ass.
“You want proof?” he growled. “You want to know you’re never left out again? I’ll fuck it into you until you can’t forget.”
You moaned, trembling, your cheek pressed into the pillow. “Do it. Show me.”
Minho thrust inside in one hard stroke, burying himself deep. The stretch stole your breath, a broken scream tearing out of you.
Jisung cried out too, clutching your hand tight, pressing frantic kisses to your cheek. “You’re okay… you’re okay, I’ve got you”
Minho’s pace was merciless. Each thrust drove you deeper into the mattress, his grip bruising your hips, his voice rough against your ear. “Never without you again. Always together. Say it.”
“Always together,” you sobbed, your voice breaking.
Jisung’s tears soaked your skin as he whispered it too, over and over, his hand stroking your hair, his lips trembling against your jaw. “Always together, noona. Always. Always.”
Minho’s smirk was feral as he pounded harder, his cock hitting deep, his words a growl. “Good girl. Don’t you forget it.”
Your second orgasm slammed into you, blinding, your scream muffled by Jisung’s mouth as he kissed you desperately, swallowing your cries.
Your cries filled the room, muffled by Jisung’s lips, your body wrecked by Minho’s thrusts. His pace was brutal, punishing, every snap of his hips deep enough to make your vision blur.
He leaned over you, pressing your head into the pillow with one hand, his voice hot against your ear. “You feel that? Every inch of me inside you, driving it home. That’s how you’ll remember. That’s how you’ll know… always together.”
You moaned, barely able to speak, your voice trembling. “Always… together.”
Jisung clung to your hand, his forehead pressed to yours. His tears dripped onto your skin, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered desperately, “You’re doing so good, noona. So good. Don’t let go… we’re right here with you.”
Minho groaned low in his throat, his grip bruising your hip as he thrust harder. He looked down at Jisung with a smirk, his voice taunting. “You see this? How she milks my cock like she was made for it? You’re not gonna let her forget it, are you?”
Jisung shook his head frantically, kissing your cheek. “Never. Never again.” His eyes darted down, catching sight of where Minho disappeared inside you, your body taking every inch. His breath caught, his whole body trembling. “Hyung… she’s so..”
“Perfect,” Minho finished for him, his smirk sharp as he pulled nearly all the way out and slammed back in. Your scream tore free, echoing against the walls.
“Fuck, Minho!”
He chuckled darkly, grinding in deep and holding, his voice hoarse. “That’s it. Scream it. Let everyone hear.”
Your body shook, your third orgasm building sharp and hot, tearing through you before you could even warn them. You came with a sob, clenching tight around him, your cries muffled against Jisung’s mouth as he kissed you desperately, swallowing every sound.
Minho groaned, his thrusts growing erratic, his body tightening. “Fuck… ur gonna make me cum.”
You gasped, your voice breaking. “Do it.”
That undid him. With a deep growl, Minho drove into you hard, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside you. His grip tightened, his forehead pressing to your back as his groans filled the room.
You collapsed against the mattress, trembling, your body wrecked. But Jisung was still there, kissing your temple, stroking your hair, whispering frantically. “So good, noona. You’re so good. Don’t let go, I’m right here.”
Minho pulled out slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs. He flopped onto his back beside you, chest heaving, his smirk lazy and satisfied. “Fuck. That’s how you teach a lesson.”
Jisung bit his lip, staring at the mess between your legs, his face red. His body shook with nerves, but his eyes burned with something deeper… longing, need, desperation.
Minho noticed. His smirk curved wicked. “Go on, Sungie. You’ve been staring long enough.”
Jisung froze. “I… I don’t”
“You want to make it up to her, don’t you?” Minho’s voice was sharp, commanding. “Then don’t just sit there. Show her.”
Your chest tightened at the sight of Jisung trembling, torn between fear and need. You reached for him, cupping his cheek. “Sungie,” you whispered softly, “I want you.”
His breath hitched. His hands shook as he fumbled his sweats down, his cock straining, leaking at the tip. He looked at Minho, terrified.
Minho just smirked, folding his arms behind his head. “She can take it. She needs both of us. Always together, remember?”
Jisung’s lips trembled, but he nodded, climbing over you, positioning himself carefully. His hands shook as he lined up, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me if it’s too much… please.”
You smiled weakly, stroking his hair. “It won’t be. I need you, Sungie.”
He whimpered, pushing in slowly, his cock stretching you again. You cried out, your body still sensitive, but the burn melted quickly into heat.
Jisung gasped, his mouth falling open, his tears spilling again. “Oh my god… noona”
He buried himself fully, his hips trembling, his breath ragged. He kissed you desperately, sloppy and wet, his words muffled against your lips. “I love you!! I love you so much… I’m sorry. I’ll never leave you out again”
You wrapped your arms around him, kissing him back just as desperately, your body arching into his shallow thrusts.
Beside you, Minho watched with a lazy smirk, his hand stroking himself slowly, already half-hard again. “That’s it, Sungie. Don’t be shy. She needs it rougher than that.”
Jisung whimpered, his hips snapping harder, his cries breaking as he fucked into you. His pace was messy, desperate, but the sincerity in every movement made your chest ache.
“Always together,” he whispered frantically, his forehead pressed to yours. “Please don’t forget. Always, noona. Always.”
You came again, your body shattering around him, your scream muffled by his mouth as he kissed you.
Jisung followed with a cry, spilling inside you, his body trembling violently. He collapsed against your chest, sobbing quietly into your skin.
You held him close, your fingers stroking his hair, tears streaming down your own cheeks.
Minho finally moved, rolling over and wrapping an arm around both of you. His voice was low, rough, but for once without mockery. “That’s enough crying. She’s not going anywhere.”
Jisung sniffled, nodding against your chest, his voice small. “Never again. We’re always together.”
You closed your eyes, your body wrecked, your heart aching but whole again. For the first time in weeks, the three of you were tangled together and it never felt so good.
The room was wrecked. The sheets clung damp to your skin, the air thick with sex and sweat, your body trembling every time you shifted. Your throat was raw from crying, from moaning, from screaming. Even your chest ached, as though the weight of the last weeks had finally collapsed inward.
Jisung was the first to give in.
He lay sprawled half on top of you, clinging with both arms as though letting go would mean losing you all over again. His face was damp and his lashes stuck to his cheeks. His breath came in uneven puffs at first, like he was still fighting the exhaustion, but slowly, gradually, the rhythm evened out.
You stroked his curls with trembling fingers, smoothing the damp strands back from his forehead. He shifted at the touch, whining quietly, and burrowed further into your chest like a child.
Your lips twitched despite yourself. He always looked younger in sleep, stripped of the frantic energy that usually drove him. Just a boy, clinging to the people he couldn’t live without.
Minho lay on your other side, flat on his back, one arm over his eyes. He hadn’t said a word since the last kiss, since the last orgasm left you all wrecked. His chest rose and fell steadily, still a little too fast, like he hadn’t quite come down yet. His body was close enough that you felt the heat radiating from him, but he hadn’t touched you again.
The silence was heavy, but not unbearable. Not like before. It was… waiting.
You focused on Jisung, keeping your fingers gentle in his hair until his breathing deepened fully. His hand twitched on your stomach, then went slack. Finally asleep.
Only then did you risk a glance at Minho.
He had shifted, his arm no longer over his eyes. He was watching you, gaze unreadable, face half-shadowed in the dim light. His hair stuck to his temples, his lips still red and swollen.
The weight of his stare made your chest tighten.
Your voice came out rough, cracked from everything that had just happened. “He’s out.”
“Figures.” His voice was low, tired, but there was something softer underneath it. His eyes flicked down to where Jisung clung to you. “He wore himself out crying.”
You huffed out a weak laugh. “You did too, lost the fire in your eyes Minho.”
That earned you the faintest twitch of his mouth, half-smirk, half-scoff. He rolled onto his side to face you, propping his head on his hand. The sheets pooled low at his waist, exposing his bare chest, still glistening faintly.
“Don’t start,” he murmured, but his tone wasn’t sharp. Not the biting warning you were used to. Just tired.
You didn’t start. You didn’t push. You just kept stroking Jisung’s hair, letting the silence stretch until Minho shifted closer, his hand brushing over the back of yours where it rested on Jisung’s curls.
The touch startled you. Not because it was unexpected, but because it was careful. Gentle.
You glanced at him again. His eyes were still on you. Searching.
Your throat tightened. “Minho…”
He shook his head slightly, his fingers sliding to lace with yours over Jisung’s sleeping head. His grip was firm. Steady.
“Don’t,” he said softly. “Not tonight.”
Your breath caught. He didn’t mean don’t talk. He meant don’t fight. Don’t bring it back.
You nodded, your eyes stinging. “Okay.”
That was enough. That was the truce.
The quiet settled deeper around you. Jisung murmured in his sleep, shifting to press his nose against your chest, his lips parting with a soft sigh. You smiled faintly, brushing a kiss to the top of his damp hair.
When you looked up again, Minho was still watching you. The rawness in his gaze made you want to look away, but you didn’t. Couldn’t.
He moved finally, leaning in. His hand slid carefully under Jisung’s weight to brush your cheek. His thumb swept under your eye, wiping away the remnants of dried tears.
“You’re a mess,” he whispered, voice low.
You gave a broken laugh. “Look who’s talking.”
That earned you the ghost of a smile: small, fleeting, but real.
His hand lingered on your cheek. He leaned closer, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath mingling with yours. His voice dropped, quieter than you’d ever heard it.
“I love you.”
It landed heavy between you, heavier than all the anger and fighting of the past weeks. Minho rarely said it when he did, it was spit like a weapon mid-argument, or muttered in passing, sharp and defensive. But now it was bare. Steady.
Your breath hitched, your eyes stinging all over again. You whispered it back, voice trembling. “I love you too.”
His eyes closed, his hand tightening around yours. He didn’t smirk. He didn’t tease. He just let the words sit there, raw and unguarded.
Jisung stirred again, whining softly, pressing closer in his sleep. Both you and Minho glanced down at him at the same time.
Minho exhaled, a faint chuckle escaping him. “Pathetic.”
But his hand brushed gently over Jisung’s curls before returning to yours, and you knew he didn’t mean it.
You let out a breath, your body finally relaxing into the mattress, into them. For the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel like something was broken. You didn’t feel outside of them.
Minho pressed one last kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there longer than necessary. “Go to sleep.”
You nodded, finally closing your eyes, your hand still in his, Jisung still clinging to your chest.
For the first time since the rule broke, the three of you felt whole.
Always together.
Always.
YAYYY THE END💗
