Both
Ways
Synopsis: You were never that type of girl…but somehow you ended up dating two guys, from the same band, at the same time…
Pairing- Jongseob!bf x reader!gf x Shota!bf
Content Warnings. MDNI
Established relationship(s), cheating, not mentions of smut until it’s actually happening, heavy making out, oral f. and m.receiving, fingering, handjob, jealous partners, praising, 3some, p!in!v, unprotected (they went all out srry), Eiffel Tower position.
Part: 1 Part: 2
Rant: Heyy! It’s been years and years since I actually wrote a story! I’ve always been a wattpad girlie but I recently discovered tumblr and let’s just say I haven’t been able to get out! So this story is inspired by me. Basically when I first got into P1Harmony I couldn’t tell apart Jongseob and Shota😩 so I had this crazy idea…please ignore any mistakes English is not my first language and don’t take any of my information about P1Harmony seriously it’s mostly fiction
🫶🏻enjoy the story🫶🏻
Keeho and I used to be inseparable.
The kind of inseparable where people stopped asking where one of us was if the other showed up first.
We spent most of high school attached at the hip. Late night convenience store runs, skipping class just to sit around and complain about life, staying on FaceTime until one of us accidentally fell asleep first.
And through all of it, Keeho only ever talked about one thing seriously.
Music.
Even back then he spoke about it like it was already waiting for him somewhere. Like he had already decided he belonged on stage long before anyone else believed it.
“You’ll forget about me when you become famous,” I joked once while we sat on the hood of his car sharing fries at two in the morning.
Keeho scoffed loudly.
“As if I could survive fame without you hyping me up.”
But eventually the jokes stopped feeling like jokes.
Training in Korea became a real possibility.
Then auditions.
Then meetings.
Then suddenly there were plane tickets sitting on his kitchen counter.
I still remember the night before he left.
We were eighteen, sitting on the front porch of my house wrapped in hoodies because neither of us wanted to go back inside and admit goodbye was actually happening.
Keeho cried first.
Which honestly wasn’t surprising.
“You better visit me,” he complained, wiping his face dramatically with his sleeve. “And don’t become friends with anyone cooler than me while I’m gone.”
“You’re literally moving across the world.”
“Okay and? Be loyal.”
I laughed through tears before shoving his shoulder lightly.
“Idiot.”
The next morning he left for Korea.
And somehow things were never really the same after that.
At first we tried.
FaceTiming every day.
Sending voice messages.
Pictures of stupid little things that reminded us of each other.
Keeho would send me blurry practice room selfies at three in the morning while I sent him pictures of rainy streets back home or whatever snack I was obsessed with that week.
Sometimes he’d call me exhausted after training just to complain for an hour straight before falling asleep mid conversation.
But life moved on.
I started modeling more seriously.
Keeho got busier.
Schedules got worse.
Calls became texts.
Texts became occasional check-ins.
And eventually we became the kind of friends who loved each other deeply but mostly through phone screens and instagram story replies.
Still, I never stopped being proud of him.
Watching Keeho debut in P1Harmony felt strangely emotional. Like seeing a piece of someone’s dream happen in real time.One second he was the dramatic teenager crying on my porch. The next he was performing in sold out venues halfway across the world. Sometimes he still sent me pictures from backstage or practice rooms. Little updates from his life.
Which, looking back now, maybe he shouldn’t have. But that became a problem later.
Months later my modeling agency informed me I’d be traveling around Korea and nearby countries for work for a while. The first person I told was Keeho.
Keeho:
Look who finally decided to visit their poor best friend
Me:
I know 😭
It’s been forever
Will we even be able to meet up?
I don’t wanna cause trouble with your schedules
Keeho:
I’ll figure it out 😮💨
Just bring your ass here first
After that the messages became constant again.
Pictures while packing.
Airport selfies.
Keeho sending videos from practice.
For the first time in years, it felt a little like old times again
The flight to Seoul was long enough for me to question every life decision that had led me there.
My coworkers were asleep beside me, headphones on and mouths slightly open while I sat curled against the airplane window unable to do the same. Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean at three in the morning, sleep sounded impossible. Maybe it was the excitement. Maybe it was the nerves. Or maybe it was because Keeho wouldn’t stop blowing up my phone.
Keeho:
If you land looking ugly I’m sending you back immediately
A laugh escaped me quietly as I snapped a blurry picture of the dark airplane window.
Me:
You cried on my porch for three hours when you moved away btw
Keeho:
Fake news
Another notification popped up before I could answer.
This time it was a photo.
A mirror selfie from what looked like a practice room. Half the members looked exhausted, one laying dramatically on the floor while Keeho grinned into the camera like he hadn’t slept in days. I smiled automatically. It still felt weird sometimes. Seeing him like this. Because in my head, Keeho was still just my best friend from school. The dramatic guy who used to skip class with me to buy iced coffee and talk about how badly he wanted to become famous someday.
And somehow he actually did it.
My eyes drifted lazily across the picture before stopping on the boy standing beside him.
Dark hoodie. Silver rings. Pretty eyes despite the blurry lighting. He wasn’t even looking at the camera, too busy fixing the sleeve of his sweatshirt while someone beside him laughed.
Cute. Dangerously cute.
Before I could stop myself, I zoomed in slightly.
Me:
Whos the cutie on your left?
The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.
Keeho:
GIRL COME ON YOURE NOT EVEN HALFWAY HERE
I bit back a laugh.
Me:
IM JUST SAYING
DOES HE HAVE A NAME?
DOES HE HAVE AN INSTA?
WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?
Keeho:
Oh I’m telling him you said that bitch😛
Then another message arrived.
Keeho:
@seobject_
Use it wisely
I stared at the username longer than I should’ve.
Mostly pictures from schedules.
Mirror selfies.
Blurry food photos.
Random dumps of practice room pictures.
There was one video of him laughing while another member shook the camera around violently.
Cute. Annoyingly cute.
Following him suddenly felt more embarrassing than it should’ve.
Still, my thumb pressed the button anyway.
A few minutes passed before another notification appeared.
seobject_ followed you back.
My stomach did a stupid little flip.
It got worse when he messaged first.
Jongseob:
So you’re the famous Canadian friend
I smiled immediately despite myself.
Me:
Famous?
Jongseob:
Keeho talks about you a lot
The conversation should’ve ended there.
It didn’t.
At first it was harmless.
He asked how long I’d stay in Korea.
I asked if idol schedules were actually as horrible as fans imagined.
He complained about dance practice.
I complained about airplane food.
Easy.
Comfortable.
Then somehow our conversations started stretching later into the night.
One message becoming twenty.
I learned quickly that Jongseob texted differently depending on the hour.
During the day his replies were shorter, rushed between schedules. At night he got softer. More talkative.
Sometimes he sent voice messages when he was too tired to type.
“Why are you still awake?” his sleepy voice mumbled through my phone one night.
I replayed that message an embarrassing amount of times. By the time I finally landed in Seoul, it already felt strange not checking my phone every five minutes. The airport was chaotic.
Managers yelling.
People rushing everywhere.
My coworkers dragging luggage behind them while I tried not to look completely exhausted.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it stood Keeho.
Designer hoodie.
Beanie pulled low over his hair.
Smug grin already on his face the second he spotted me.
“Oh my god,” he gasped dramatically, pulling me into a hug. “You actually came.”
“You’re literally crushing me.”
“You survived thirteen hours on a plane for me. That’s love.”
I laughed into his shoulder before finally pulling away.
For a second we just stared at each other.
It had been years.
And yet somehow talking to him still felt easy.
Like no time had passed at all.
“You got taller,” I muttered.
Keeho scoffed loudly.
“You got hotter. Life is unfair.”
“Still dramatic.”
“Still obsessed with me.”
He grabbed one of my suitcases before motioning toward the exit.
“Come on. I’m stealing you before your agency realizes I’m a bad influence.”
The next few days blurred together quickly. Photoshoots. Meetings. Jet lag.
And somehow, in between all of it, Jongseob stayed constant. Good morning texts. Late night calls. Random selfies from practice.
At some point I stopped noticing how naturally he had slipped into my routine.
Then one night Keeho finally texted me.
Keeho:
Free tonight?
Me:
Depends
Are you paying for my food
Keeho:
Absolutely not
But the members wanna meet you
My stomach tightened immediately.
Members.
Meaning Jongseob.
Suddenly getting dressed felt significantly more important than it should’ve.
“You’re insane,” I muttered to myself while changing outfits for the third time.
An hour later I was standing outside a small restaurant beside Keeho while he laughed directly into my suffering.
“You like him.”
“I literally never said that.”
“You changed shirts three times.”
“I was cold.”
“In July?”
“I’m going home.”
Keeho only grinned wider before pulling the restaurant door open.
The noise hit first.
Music.
Laughter.
Voices overlapping.
Then my eyes found him almost instantly.
Jongseob looked up from across the table at the exact same moment.
And for half a second everything else disappeared.
He looked different in person.
Softer somehow.
His hair slightly messy like he’d been running his hands through it all night. Pretty eyes immediately locking onto mine with quiet amusement.
“You’re staring,” he said casually.
Heat rushed straight to my face.
Before I could answer, Keeho snorted beside me.
“Oh my god,” he groaned. “You two are already disgusting.”
“I literally just got here.”
“Imagine!”
Across the table, Jongseob laughed quietly into his drink. And somehow that made things even worse.
The first time Jongseob showed up outside my hotel unprompted, I genuinely thought I was hallucinating from exhaustion.
I had just gotten back from a twelve hour shooting schedule, makeup half removed and heels hanging from my fingers while I struggled to dig my keycard out of my bag.
The my phone buzzed
Jongseob:
Look behind you
My head snapped up immediately.
And there he was.
Black hoodie. Beanie pulled low over his hair. Hands shoved into his pockets while he leaned casually against the wall across from the hotel entrance like waiting for me outside luxury hotels was something he did every day.
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
“What are you doing here?”
“You complained about your day six times,” he said simply. “I figured your mood probably needed fixing.”
Something warm twisted painfully in my chest.
“That’s weirdly nice of you.”
“I can still leave.”
“Don’t you dare.”
His mouth curled slightly at the edges before he pushed himself off the wall and walked toward me.
Up close he looked tired. Pretty, but tired.
There were faint dark circles under his eyes and his hair looked messy like he’d been running his hands through it all evening.
“You finished practice already?” I asked softly.
“Mhm.”
“You ate?”
Jongseob stared at me blankly.
I sighed immediately.
“You didn’t.”
“I was busy.”
“You’re impossible.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore how naturally he reached over and took my bag from my shoulder.
The gesture was so casual it almost scared me.
Like he’d been doing it forever.
We ended up walking to the convenience store down the street because apparently neither of us had eaten properly all day. The city was quieter that late at night.
Streetlights reflecting against wet sidewalks.
Music spilling faintly from somewhere nearby.
Cold air brushing against my face while Jongseob walked beside me with his hood pulled low.
Comfortable silence settled between us almost too easily.
It felt strange.
We’d only known each other for a few weeks.
So why did being around him already feel routine?
Inside the convenience store, Jongseob immediately grabbed instant ramen while I wandered toward the drinks.
“You always buy the same thing?” I asked while watching him place two banana milks onto the counter.
“You noticed?”
“You’ve posted it like six times.”
A soft laugh escaped him.
“You stalk my instagram?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Mhm.”
He handed me one of the banana milks anyway.
Our fingers brushed for half a second.
Stupidly enough, that tiny bit of contact made my stomach flip harder than it should’ve.
We ended up sitting outside on the curb eating ramen from plastic containers while cars passed occasionally in the distance.
It felt oddly normal.
Like we weren’t sitting outside at nearly one in the morning hiding hoodies and faces from possible fans.
“You know,” I said eventually, “you’re very different from how I expected.”
Jongseob glanced sideways at me.
“How so?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged lightly. “You looked intimidating at first.”
He looked genuinely offended.
“Me?”
“You wear too much black.”
“That’s insane reasoning.”
“And the rings.”
“The rings are cool.”
“They’re scary.”
“They’ve literally never hurt anyone.”
I laughed quietly, watching him shake his head while trying not to smile himself.
Then silence settled again.
Not awkward.
Just soft.
Jongseob stared down at the ramen cup in his hands for a few seconds before speaking again.
“You were nervous meeting me.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“At dinner.” He glanced over briefly. “You kept fixing your sleeves.”
The fact he noticed that made my chest tighten unexpectedly.
“You pay too much attention.”
His eyes stayed on me this time.
“I think you do too.”
The air suddenly felt different.
Heavier somehow.
My pulse jumped embarrassingly fast as his gaze dropped briefly toward my mouth before lifting back to my eyes again.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us looked away.
Then Jongseob leaned back slightly first, letting out a quiet laugh under his breath like he was trying to break whatever had almost happened between us.
“We should probably get you back before Keeho starts threatening me.” The moment dissolved instantly.
But the tension stayed.
After that night things became dangerous quickly.
Jongseob slipped into my routine so naturally it scared me. Good morning texts, late night calls, Pictures throughout the day.
Sometimes I’d be halfway through a schedule before realizing I was checking my phone just to see if he’d messaged yet.
And apparently he wasn’t much better.
Jongseob:
Eat something today please
Me:
You first
Jongseob:
That’s not how this works
Me:
Sounds hypocritical
Jongseob:
Keeho said you’re difficult
Me:
Keeho talks too much
Jongseob:
About you? Constantly
Every conversation with him felt easy.
That was the problem.
Nothing about this situation should’ve felt easy.
Not the sneaking around.
Not meeting him late at night.
Not how naturally his hand would settle against my lower back whenever crowded streets got too busy.
But every time I tried telling myself to slow down, Jongseob would look at me like I was the only person he’d noticed all day.
And suddenly slowing down felt impossible.
The first time he kissed me happened almost by accident.
Almost.
I had just finished another late schedule when he offered to walk me back to the hotel again.
The city lights blurred softly around us while we walked side by side in comfortable silence.
“You’re staring again,” Jongseob murmured eventually.
I looked over immediately.
“You notice every time?”
“I notice everything you do.”
That should not have affected me as much as it did.
The teasing smile on his face softened slightly when I stopped walking.
For a second neither of us moved.
Then his eyes dropped briefly toward my lips.
My heartbeat became painfully loud.
“You know this is probably a bad idea,” I whispered.
“Probably.”
Neither of us stepped away anyway.
And when he finally kissed me, it was soft enough to ruin me completely.
Warm hands against my waist.
Cold fingers from the night air.
His breath catching slightly when I kissed him back harder.
Nothing about it felt rushed.
If anything, it felt inevitable.
When we finally pulled apart, neither of us moved very far.
Jongseob rested his forehead lightly against mine, laughing quietly under his breath.
“I think Keeho’s gonna kill me.”
I laughed softly despite the way my chest still raced.
“Only you?”
His smile widened immediately.
And somehow, standing there underneath dim hotel lights with his hands still warm against my waist, I already knew this was going to become a problem.
After that, whatever was happening between us stopped pretending to be casual.
Not that either of us actually said it out loud.
There was no official conversation.
No awkward “what are we?” talk.
Just Jongseob slowly becoming part of my everyday life.
Some nights he’d show up outside my hotel after schedules looking exhausted but still smiling the second he saw me.
Other nights we stayed on FaceTime until one of us accidentally fell asleep first.
Usually him.
“You’re drooling,” I whispered one night while staring at my phone screen.
Jongseob, half asleep with his cheek smashed against his pillow, barely reacted.
“Liar.”
“You literally are.”
“Screen record it.”
I laughed quietly, pulling my blanket closer around myself.
“You’re gross.”
“And you still like me.”
The scary thing was that he sounded so sure about it. And honestly? Maybe he had a reason to be.
Sneaking around became easier faster than it should’ve. Jongseob always wore hoodies, hats, masks—whatever helped him blend in.
Meanwhile I learned which hotel exits fans usually waited outside of.
Which restaurants had private rooms.
How to keep my head down when cameras appeared unexpectedly.
It should’ve felt stressful.
Instead it felt thrilling.
Like the entire world had no idea about the small secret we carried around together.
One night after dinner, Jongseob grabbed my wrist suddenly before I could walk into the hotel lobby.
I looked back immediately.
“What?”
“Wait.”
His voice came out softer than usual.
The street behind us was empty.
Quiet.
For a second he just stared at me.
Then his hand slid slowly from my wrist down into my hand instead.
My breath caught embarrassingly fast.
“You’re clingy lately,” I mumbled weakly.
“You hate it?”
I looked down at our hands.
His fingers were cold again.
Always cold.
“Unfortunately no.”
A quiet laugh escaped him before he stepped closer.
Close enough that I could smell his cologne again.
Close enough that my brain stopped functioning properly.
“You know,” he murmured, “I think Keeho’s starting to suspect something.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“He asked me yesterday why I suddenly care about my appearance.”
I burst out laughing immediately.
“He did not.”
“He literally did.” Jongseob groaned dramatically. “‘Why are you dressing like you’re in a kdrama all of a sudden?’”
“That’s actually insane.”
“He’s obsessed with me.”
I was still laughing when Jongseob suddenly leaned down and kissed me again.
Quick this time.
Dangerous.
Right outside the hotel entrance.
My stomach flipped violently the second we pulled apart.
“You’re actually crazy,” I whispered.
“You looked cute laughing.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“It’s enough for me.”
That was the problem with him.
Jongseob always said things so casually, like he had no idea what they did to me afterward.
A few weeks later I realized I had accidentally started leaving things at his dorm.
Not intentionally. At least not at first.
A hoodie.
Lip gloss.
Hair ties around his wrist that somehow never came back to me.
The first time I walked into his room and saw my moisturizer sitting beside his bed, I paused.
Something about it felt strangely intimate. Domestic almost.
Jongseob noticed me staring immediately.
“What?”
“That’s weird.”
“What is?”
“My stuff being here.”
He looked over lazily from where he sat against the headboard scrolling through his phone.
“Oh.”
That was it.
Oh.
“You’re not even gonna deny liking it?”
“No.” His lips twitched slightly. “I do like it.”
The butterflies in my stomach were becoming genuinely unbearable around him.
I tossed one of the pillows at his face instantly.
“You’re annoying.”
“And yet you’re here.”
He caught the pillow easily before grabbing my wrist when I tried taking it back.
The movement pulled me forward unexpectedly, landing half on top of him against the mattress.
For a second neither of us moved.
Jongseob looked unfairly comfortable beneath me, one hand still loosely around my wrist while the other rested against my waist automatically.
“You planned that,” I accused quietly.
“Mhm.”
“You’re evil.”
“But you’re still blushing.”
I immediately covered my face with my sleeve while he laughed softly underneath me.
And somewhere between stolen hoodies, late night convenience store runs, secret kisses in elevators and falling asleep beside him during movie nights, I realized something terrifying.
This wasn’t casual anymore.
Not for me.
Not for him either.
I was waiting outside Jongseobs and the members dorm the first time I met Shota and lied to him within thirty seconds.
In my defense, panic makes people do stupid things.
Jongseob had texted me nearly twenty minutes earlier saying he’d sneak downstairs as soon as Keeho got out of the bathroom because apparently the idiot had locked himself in there playing music loud enough for the entire dorm to hear.
Which left me standing alone outside the dorm building at nearly midnight trying not to look suspicious.
The streets were quiet.
Cold air brushed against my bare legs beneath my oversized hoodie while I checked my phone for the fifth time in two minutes.
Me:
If you dont come downstairs right now im leaving
Jongseob:
Baby I’m trying😭
Baby.
The stupid nickname still made my stomach flip every single time.
I smiled despite myself before shoving my phone back into my bag.
Then suddenly—
“Hey.”
I looked up too quickly.
A guy stood a few feet away from me near the dorm entrance, one hand still holding the door open behind him.
Pretty.
Blonde hair falling slightly over his forehead, very similar to my Jongseob, oversized hoodie hanging off his frame casually like he’d thrown it on in a rush.
But it was his eyes that caught me first.
Curious.
Calm.
Watching me carefully enough to make me immediately nervous.
“You waiting for someone?” he asked softly.
For one horrible second my brain completely short circuited.
I should’ve said Jongseob.
That would’ve been the smart answer.
Instead panic answered for me.
“Keeho.”
The lie came embarrassingly fast.
“Oh.” His expression relaxed slightly. “You’re y/n, right?”
The fact he knew my name caught me completely off guard.
“You know me?”
A small smile appeared on his face.
“Keeho talks about you a lot.”
I laughed awkwardly, trying not to think too hard about the fact I was secretly dating his bandmate while standing directly in front of him.
“That’s unfortunate for me honestly.”
“Nah.” He shook his head lightly. “You seem cooler than he described.”
“That’s actually offensive.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
It was softer than I expected.
Cute too.
“I’m Shota by the way.”
There it was.
The name Jongseob and Keeho casually mentioned all the time. I suddenly became hyper aware of everything. The fact Jongseob could walk outside any second. How close Shota was standing to me. How guilty this conversation somehow already felt despite being completely innocent.
Still, I smiled politely before shaking the hand he offered me. His hand was warm. Warm enough that I noticed it immediately. Which unfortunately made me think about how Jongseob’s hands were always freezing cold no matter the weather.
“Weird,” I muttered absentmindedly.
Shota blinked. “What is?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head quickly. “Your hands are just warm.”
One of his eyebrows lifted slightly in amusement.
“That’s a strange first observation.”
Heat rushed straight to my face.
“Oh my god forget I said that.”
His laugh came easier this time.
Definitely dangerous.
Before I could embarrass myself further, the dorm door suddenly opened again behind him.
For one terrifying second my heart stopped.
But thankfully it was only Keeho stepping outside dramatically with a drink in his hand.
“There you are,” Keeho groaned looking at Shota and then at me. “Why do you look like you’re about to commit a crime?”
“Maybe because your building is scary.” I said
“Liar. You love it here.”
Then his eyes flicked between me and Shota suspiciously.
“…Why are you two standing here looking awkward?”
“We literally just met,” I defended immediately.
“Relax,” Shota said calmly beside me. “I didn’t traumatize your friend.”
Keeho narrowed his eyes slowly.
“That sounds fake.”
I laughed nervously while Shota only smiled slightly beside me.
And somehow, standing there underneath the dim dorm lights with guilt already creeping unpleasantly into my chest, I had the uncomfortable feeling something had just shifted.
Even if I didn’t understand what yet.
To be continued