seen from United States
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Switzerland
seen from Türkiye
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from United States
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Pakistan
seen from India
seen from Bulgaria
seen from Germany
seen from Bulgaria
arranged marriage turned love headcannon
pairing: husband!jungwon x wife!reader
genre: arranged marriage. strangers to lovers. plot with porn (MDNI)
word count: 617
— husband!jungwon only saw this bond as a business arrangement.
— husband!jungwon slept in a different bedroom because he couldn't share a bed with a stranger.
— husband!jungwon always skipped breakfast with you, even when you woke up early to prepare everything yourself.
— husband!jungwon heard quiet sniffles while working late in his study and found you crying alone in the hallway because the house felt too lonely.
— husband!jungwon apologized after realizing how you felt.
— husband!jungwon joined you the next day for breakfast the next morning to make it up to you.
— husband!jungwon didn't expect to enjoy your cooking.
— husband!jungwon came downstairs one evening and found you curled up on the sofa reading one of his old jules verne novels.
— husband!jungwon was surprised when you talked about science fiction, admitting that you had once dreamed of becoming a science teacher despite your parents disapproval.
— husband!jungwon found himself staying up with you talking about books until neither of you noticed how late it had gotten.
– husband!jungwon surprised you on your birthday with a collection of an antique frankenstein novel.
– husband!jungwon was surprised to receive a kiss on the cheek from you but you didn't notice his expression as you were too excited from your gift.
– husband!jungwon couldn't sleep at night due to that kiss, imagining you would do that again the next day.
– husband!jungwon woke up early and froze when you were wearing your night gown with no robe.
– husband!jungwon felt something burn in his cheeks and something hard down there when he was staring at you too much.
– husband!jungwon snaps out of his thoughts when you call out his name with that sweet smile of yours.
– husband!jungwon can't stand being in the same room with you due to the feverish feeling he feels when you’re around.
– husband!jungwon felt sorry for pulling his hand away from you when you checked for callouses, he just doesn't know how to act around you.
– husband!jungwon apologized for being distant again with you, admitting that lately he has been feeling unknown emotions for the first time since he became close to you.
– husband!jungwon asked you to give him a little more time to understand what he was feeling, his heart sinking when he saw the smile disappear from your face.
– husband!jungwon has to pretend the both of you were fine at the gala of his company.
– husband!jungwon became jealous when he saw one of his business partners trying to flirt with you.
– husband!jungwon admits at home that he was jealous and that he can't stand being apart from you.
– husband!jungwon was surprised when you shushed him by kissing him, before it lead to the both of you in his bedroom.
– husband!jungwon immediately removed his clothes and you follow until both of you were bare.
– husband!jungwon kisses you again and trails it down to your core which had you (s)creaming.
– husband!jungwon groaned as you took his erected member in your hands before putting it inside you.
– husband!jungwon who went slow since it was both your first time and didn’t want to scare you.
– husband!jungwon felt every euphoric, delicious ecstasy with your movements and hole.
– husband!jungwon kissed you back with every ounce of certainty he had been searching for all this time.
– husband!jungwon realized that the arranged marriage he once treated like a business arrangement had become the best thing that had ever happened to him.
– husband!jungwon fell asleep that night with you in his arms, knowing he never wanted to spend another night in a separate room again.
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viscous symmetry (sjy)
pairing: obsessed!reader x obsessed!jake
warnings: stalking (both male and female), jake and reader are obsessed with each other, portrays a twisted kind of “love,” HEAVY SMUT (warnings of what type will be posted on each chapter), masturbation, etc.
you watch jake from the shadows, convinced he's the only one who can complete you. what you didn't know is that he feels the exact same pull, dreaming of the day you'll finally be his. and when your twisted desires are fulfilled, you rush into an intoxicating "happily ever after," only to find your absolute obsession is a death sentence.
chapter 1
chapter 2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
***
surprised? so am i LOL! my first dark fic and i'm excited to share it to you guys!
viscous symmetry (sjy) - chapter 1
pairing: obsessed!reader x obsessed!jake
warnings: stalking (both male and female), both jake and reader are obsessed with each other, portrays a twisted kind of “love,” HEAVY SMUT (name calling, multiple rounds, etc.), reader masturbates in the public restroom, more to come
you watch jake from the shadows, convinced he's the only one who can complete you. what you didn't know is that he feels the exact same pull, dreaming of the day you'll finally be his. and when your twisted desires are fulfilled, you rush into an intoxicating "happily ever after," only to find your absolute obsession is a death sentence.
***
your day was just like any other day. you woke up, ate breakfast, showered, brushed your teeth, dressed, and left for work. it was a boring, grinding routine.
but your day didn't become complete, if it weren't for him.
sim jaeyun. or as his friends called him: jake.
you met jake because your boss, mr. davidson had a team lunch at hybe & hearth. he kept drumming up the idea, telling anyone who would listen that your company's CEO loved the restaurant. it was an obvious, transparent attempt to kiss ass and grease the wheels for a promotion, but you were dragged along anyway.
the food must have worked its charm, because as soon as mr. davidson took a bite, he demanded the waiter summon the chef for an over-the-top compliment. you expected the whole scene to be a headache, but the stressful thoughts dissolved instantly the moment jake appeared in front of your table.
“i’m sim jaeyun, one of hybe & hearth’s chefs. how may i help you, sir?”
“yes, i was just wondering… how did you make this steak taste this good?”
seriously? that was the best compliment he could manage?
“well… it’s about respecting the process, sir. first, we apply our special dry rub, then we pan-fry it to seal the juices…”
you stopped listening to the words. you were instantly enchanted by his soft-spoken voice and the way his eyes lit up with an almost spiritual passion while he explained the process. you forgot how long he was talking until his gaze finally found yours, and you snapped out of your trance.
after that perfect encounter, you saw each other every day. you'd wait for him after his late-night shift, and the two of you would walk together to his favorite café, atelier 01. the coffee was bland, but you never minded, not as long as you were with him. these were your dates; the stolen moments that anchored your life and made you feel utterly whole.
at least, that's what you called them.
but if you consider hiding across the street from where jake worked, sitting alone in the café corner to keep a hawk-like eye on him the entire time, and then meticulously following him home to his condo unit—if that's your definition of a date, then they were dates.
it took you a lot of work to find out what jake did, but he was an open book thanks to the digital breadcrumbs he left everywhere. your nights were spent meticulously tracing his public life.
you started with his professional profiles, then moved to the dusty corners of the internet: old, tagged photos from culinary events, articles from australian newspapers, and archived blog posts.
you quickly pieced together his history: He was originally from australia (which explains his english name) and had a pet dog waiting in his home country. he'd been cooking since the age of five and was labeled a culinary prodigy. you found the proof—a thrilling article confirming he won a contest against seasoned culinary students when he was only twelve.
as you kept digging, you read that one of his former classmates from prep school said his parents initially didn't want him to be a chef, thinking that it was jake’s stupid way of throwing his life away from their family business. but when he got the fame, they no longer cared.
those bloggers only had history. you had access. you knew his address, his routines, and his true, quiet life. their knowledge was superficial; yours was absolute.
you just fell in love with how passionately driven he sounded. when jake wanted something, he worked for it, and then he took care of it.
and you wanted that.
you wanted him.
***
“hey, mr. davidson. just heading out for lunch.”
“alright. just submit those documents i asked for at exactly 1:10 PM.”
you nodded, barely hearing the strict deadline. hybe & hearth was the only thing on your mind as you walked out.
as soon as you arrived, you ordered the risotto, knowing jake loved the dish for its challenging nature, as he'd mentioned once in an interview. you chose your usual table—one carefully selected for its prime view of the restaurant's glass-walled show kitchen.
the line was busy, but your eyes immediately found the white blur of jake's chef's coat at the main station. you watched him move with the precise, unsettling grace of a five-star chef, his authority absolute even through the glass. the sound of his voice—crisp, demanding—was muted, but the sight of his total focus was enough.
your risotto was served in front of you, and as you expected, it was exquisite. the texture was impossibly perfect, proof of the relentless attention to detail that only jake could possess. with every bite, you felt a sharp, pleasurable rush—a private fantasy in which jake himself was preparing the dish only for you.
you savored every last grain of rice, the thought heavy in your mind: you wished you had the confidence to thank, or maybe even fuck, the chef right then and there. you were about to pay your bill when the waiter approached:
“let’s just say it’s on the house. as a gesture to a regular customer.”
the waiter offered a calm, knowing smile. you could barely breathe. “that’s incredibly kind,” you managed, fighting to keep your voice steady. “could you please tell the chef—the one who made the risotto—that he is absolutely the best? it was perfect.”
all you could do was whisper a thank you to the restaurant. you searched the busy dining room, your mind violently knocking against your skull. you didn't believe the waiter for a second. even though you didn't know why you deserved the generosity or who had covered your bill, you felt a strange warmth from the gesture of being noticed and seen by someone. you've always yearned for this acknowledgement. but you only wanted ot to come from the only person who truly mattered.
***
the sound of the documents hitting
mr. davidson’s desk was like someone fired a gun. “didn't i tell you that i needed this at exactly 1:10 pm?!”
mr. davidson’s face was a mask of furious red, the veins in his neck bulging. you could feel your pulse hammering in your throat as the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
“i’m sorry, sir. i must have lost track of time.” the lie tasted like ash. you knew exactly what time it was when jake had looked up from plating more dishes, just as you were finishing your additional juice, an excuse that you can take a look at him longer.
“don’t you have a watch with you? or maybe you just can’t read time!” you shuddered at how mr. davidson raised his voice. he shook his head and cursed under his breath, adjusting the knot of his immaculate silk tie.
“get out of my sight.”
you gathered the papers from the floor, your fingertips brushing against the edges of the discarded pages.
ten minutes. you'd sacrifice this whole job for ten minutes. you forced yourself to meet your mr. davidson’s eyes for a brief, cold moment before turning and walking out, the heavy steel door swinging shut behind you with a definitive, ominous clack.
you went to the restroom and stumbled into the first cubicle, locking the latch with a shaky hand. you buried your face in your hands and just let the tears come, the stale, metallic taste of shame and panic coating your tongue.
i need him. i need release.
you closed your eyes and inhaled the clinical scent of the bathroom cleaner. the tears dried instantly. all you could see was jake, and the clean, hard lines of his face filling this miserable space.
“does my princess need a stress-reliever?”
the voice in your head was low, a velvet growl that vibrated through your bones. oh, how you loved imagining him like a tiger starved—intense, predatory, seeing only you.
with a trembling hand, you unzipped your slacks, the sound loud in the small stall. you pressed your finger deep into your core. the heat was instant, a ferocious, focused pleasure that immediately eclipsed the memory of your boss’s rant. you nit your lip, trying hard not to moan, but it was impossible when the next scene playing in your head was jake pulling you up onto the closed toilet seat, pressing you against the cold wall of the cubicle, kissing you hard.
every kiss you played felt like your soul was being sucked out of you, the life and control draining out of your body and into his. you didn't care. you’d let him take the very life out of you. you would give him everything, right here, right now, just for a moment of this consuming power.
you'd like it if he'd kissed the back of your ear while pressing his finger in you.
“o-oh fuck! jake!”
you fastened your pace and grinded yourself on your fingers. you threw your head back, sensing that you're about to cum.
“uh-uh. not yet, princess.”
you hold it in, waiting for the right moment.
“you get to cum when i tell you to. understand?”
“y-yes.”
you went faster and faster until you came. the warm, sticky, white slime on your fingers, pooling in your underwear.
you kept panting, feeling better. until you realized that it was just you inside this cubicle, in an office bathroom.
***
you waited for an hour. jake's shift was supposed to end at 7 pm but it's been an hour. your feet were starting to get tired, especially from the heels you were wearing today (which you lowkey regretted choosing over white sneakers).
you glanced up every two minutes, hoping he'd come out of those glass doors, wearing his white polo shirt, unbuttoned, with his blazer on his left arm. if only he knew how feral your mind goes whenever you see him like that. like it was meant for you to see him like that. only if you can drag him to a corner by the road side and give him the best sex he could ever imagine. but of course, you had to control yourself. you have to blend in, pretend you're just like everybody else.
your prayers have been answered when jake gets out of the restaurant but he has his phone on his ear. you didn't know what he was talking about but you can see the way his eyebrows furrowed that it was something serious.
you waited for jake to be 12 feet away from you. being careful that you have to look like a normal person, walking their way home.
every time you'd get the feeling jake knows he's being followed, you'd either stop and pretend you're using your phone or just bring iut your wallet to pretend like you're checking if you have enough bills.
you've been doing that for two months now and thank god you haven't been caught.
you thought jake would be going to atelier 01 today but when you noticed the way, you thought maybe he just wanted to rest.
that's a shame, you thought. you were looking forward to spending your night with him.
but if he wants to rest, he deserves that after he works so hard everyday.
you normally just stop across the building from where he lives but today…today you might take this chance to know where he lives.
you briskly walked across the street and once you arrived at the building, you thanked the heavens when the receptionist stepped out for a bit.
you ran to the elevator as fast as you could before it closes.
“wait!”
luckily, someone opened the elevator door for you and you got in. you just didn't recognize who it was.
“you new here?”
you froze. you couldn't believe it. he is beside you and only the two of you are in the same elevator.
realizing you didn't answer his question, you shake your head.
“n-no. no, i don't live here. i’m just…visiting a friend!”
you didn't mean to raise your voice like that. it must have beent he adrenaline and panic you were feeling that you mentally cursed yourself. he could've caught you right then and there, god damn it!
“what floor?”
“um…6th?”
jake just presses the 6 button, without asking why you weren't so sure. when he didn't press anything else, you realized he must live in the same floor.
excitement builds inside you because you'll finally know where he lives.
when the elevator dings, jake gets out and when he notices you haven't gotten out, he looks back.
“isn't this your friend’s floor?”
“o-oh! right, yeah. silly me!” you laugh and stepped out of the elevator.
“i’m jake, by the way.”
“i know.” shit.
“i-i mean, i’ve seen you before at hybe & hearth. my colleagues and i ate there. my boss called you one time. you probably wouldn't remember him.”
that was a close one.
“oh no, i remember. i recall seeing you.”
“oh…” all you could let out is a laugh that makes you sound flustered.
he remembers you.
“well, it's nice seeing you…”
“y/n.”
“see you around, y/n.”
he turns around and walks away, leaving you standing there, not believing that encounter just happened.
you pretended to walk going the other direction, looking back to where jake was going. he walked going to the end of hall, your eyes followed him. he bends down and picks up something from under his doormat. a key.
he unlocks the door and gets inside. once you hear the door click, you immediately turned around towards the other side of the hall.
you stood in front of the door, 0608, it read.
“so this is where you live,” you whisper.
you lean your ear on the door, wanting to hear what he might be doing inside. you close your eyes, imagining jake stripping down his white polo, and drinking a glass of water as it drips down his neck.
your panties were starting to get wet. but then you remembered you were still in public, specifically in front of the man you keep fantasizing.
your eyes grew big when you saw on your watch it was already 9:30 pm. the last train leaves at 9:40 pm. god knows how long it would take you to run to the subway from this building.
and by the time you reach the subway, you're out of luck. the announcer just announced that the last train had just left.
you let out a frustrated sigh, cursing the universe for not being by your side the whole day. with the exception you now know where jake lives.
but for tonight, you might have to call a cab to take you home.
***
you were so late for work. you overslept and didn't get up on time and now you were rushing to the train during rush hour in the morning.
“stupid alarm clock,” you whisper, knowing quite well that it was you who chose to keep pressing snooze on your phone.
the next train arrived at 9 am which was the time work started. all you knew was you were going to be in so much trouble once you get there.
when the train arrived, everyone immediately got in and no seats were left for you to sit down on. you had no choice but to stand up and hold onto the railings.
you expected to experience the train going very fast and people squirming in to make themselves fit.
but you didn't expect a hand touching your back, before it slides down slowly to your bum.
you knew what to do. all you had to do was punch the creep and call him out. but you froze. you felt powerless while you can imagine him smiling and enjoying it.
the next thing that happened was that people screamed and you felt a loud thud. when you turn around, a middle aged man was lying on the ground. and when you saw who pushed him, you were shocked.
“what the fuck? how dare you?!”
“back off.”
you meet again. he saved you.
this must be destiny.
“d-did you guys see?” the man was pointing at jake, “this man assaulted me!”
“assaulted you? i’m not the creep touching women.”
people started whispering, one started cursing at him and he suddenly started shaking as he was standing up. and when the train started to announce the first stop, the man immediately stood up and ran towards the doors, not minding people were screaming at him.
jake was about to chase him but you unconsciously grabbed his arm. and when he saw your face, his eyes softened.
“you alright?” he asks, forgetting that a while ago, he was fuming.
“i-i am now. thank you.”
“he shouldn't have done that.”
you didn't know what to say because he was right. but you couldn't fight back. until jake fought for you. he came to protect you. here.
here?
“why are you here?” realizing how rude that sounded, you rephrased your question, “i mean, what are you doing here? isn't your apartment on the other side of town?”
good save, y/n.
“i just got back from a meeting with a supplier. gonna open my own restaurant and they only take private meetings for large contracts before 9 AM.”
then the train started to move again. both you and jake held on the handles. both of you were so near each other, the distance was making your heart beat fast.
“oh. that’s too early.” you unconsciously let out an involuntary slip of true feeling. you reached out, and before your brain could veto the move, your hand landed softly on his shoulder.
“i hope you’re not too tired.”
jake looks at your hand and when you realized what you did, you immediately pulled your hand away and quickly raised it to smooth down a nonexistent strand of hair near your ear.
“i’m perfectly well, if you're wondering.”
“n-no! i mean, i wasn't…i’m glad you're okay.”
on cue, it was your stop and you hear people starting to get off the train.
“this is my stop. you getting off too?”
“yeah.”
you and jake get off the train together, running towards the exit of the station. what you did not expect was that it would be raining by the time you got there.
both of you immediately went back to the shade and found yourselves laughing at the mishap.
“funny we'd meet like this again.”
your eyes were immediately drawn to the way the wet white shirt clung to Jake’s torso. the sheer material revealed the balanced contours of his body, a sight that grilled your focus entirely.
“this dress shirt is apparently not helping me.”
but it is certainly helping you. your panties are becoming as wet as your hair. you love every sight you're seeing from him. if only you can take him right now and lock him up in your apartment for god knows how long. as long as he makes you happy and in return, you can make him happy.
jake calls for a taxi and he gestures to you with a smile that it's for the both of you.
and the whole ride, he told the taxi driver to lower the aircon. he proceeded to unbutton his shirt and remove it.
it was like how the female leads in movies experience their world slow down. you've fantasized jake undressing in front of you and it was hot. but it was way better to see it in person.
“sorry. just going to change up real quick.”
jake tells you as he takes out his extra polo from his bag.
“sir, lower the aircon please,” he says as he wears his new dress shirt.
you watch him button his shirt, biting your lip as you imagine kissing every part of his well-built chest.
the whole ride, you tried to compose yourself. restrain yourself from jumping on jake and kissing him, not caring if the can driver is in front of you. for now, you'll have to be thankful that your time with jake is longer than last night.
“you okay?” jake asks you and only did you notice that he is now fully dressed.
“yeah. sorry, just didn't get enough sleep.”
“the drive keeps you up,” jake replied simply, a slight understanding in his voice. “i know the feeling.”
you laughed, though you didn't find what he said funny. it was just the thought that he was talking to you that made you feel excited.
the taxi slowed, pulling up to the curb near your building.
“well, this is me,” you said, gathering your bag and trying to sound casual, despite the frantic drumming of your heart.
jake nodded, reaching across you to push the door open. his hand brushed your shoulder, and a jolt of heat went through you, sharp and immediate.
“good luck at work,” he said, his lips curving into a slight, knowing smile. “and try to get some sleep, y/n.”
you nod and smile, “thank you, for everything, jake.”
he didn't reply, just watched you climb out of the taxi. he waited until you were safely on the sidewalk before speaking again, his voice carrying clearly through the open window.
“see you around.”
you stood there, the rain having stopped, the humid city air feeling suddenly heavy. the taxi pulled away, leaving you alone but not alone—you felt the warmth of his recent presence still clinging to your skin.
see you around.
it wasn't a question. it was a promise.
this strong obsession wasn't just justified now; it was validated. the world was finally starting to bend to your design.
viscous symmetry (s.jy) - chapter 8
pairing: obsessed!reader x obsessed!jake
warnings: stalking (both male and female), both jake and reader are obsessed with each other, portrays a twisted kind of “love,” SMUT (reverse cowgirl, sex in trailer, overstimulation), reader is needy, jake is horny, reader has a toxic boss
premise: you watch jake from the shadows, convinced he's the only one who can complete you. what you didn't know is that he feels the exact same pull, dreaming of the day you'll finally be his. and when your twisted desires are fulfilled, you rush into an intoxicating "happily ever after," only to find your absolute obsession is a death sentence.
word count: 3197
series masterlist
***
the morning light in the penthouse felt too bright, exposing the lingering adrenaline of the night before. watching jake move through the kitchen—sharp, efficient, effortlessly commanding the space—made the request feel like a weight in your throat.
"jake?" you pause for a while as you heard the sizzle from the pan.
“do you think... maybe this weekend, we could go somewhere?”
he paused, his silhouette cutting a hard line against the window. "what did you have in mind?"
"i saw this glamping spot," you muttered, suddenly fascinated by the grain of the floorboards. “it’s quiet. private. but i know the kitchen is demanding, and it’s probably—"
"i’ll book it." he didn't let you retreat. he was across the kitchen in three strides, his fingers firm as they hooked under your chin. "don’t ever be shy about wanting more of me, y/n. we leave friday after the shift. i'll handle the rest.”
your eyes grew wide, “really?”
he stepped even closer, the heat from the stove behind him casting a glow on his features. "yes, princess. really. i'll even let you pick the music for the drive." he gave your chin a tiny, playful nudge before letting go. "go get your things. i’ll see you at the shift, and then we’re out of here.”
your smile grew wider and you gave small kisses on his cheeks to his temples and down to his chin to which he simply closed his eyes, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. he didn't pull away. he just held you there for a second longer, clearly enjoying the way you were clinging to him.
***
you were already packed, your bag hidden under your desk, when mr. davidson stood by your table.
"i need you to send out some PRs to 10 agencies and cross reference them by monday morning," he said, not even looking at you. "that means staying late tonight and coming in on saturday."
your heart hammered against your ribs. usually, you’d nod, swallow your frustration, and cancel your life. but you and jake already had plans and for the first time, you didn't want to cancel them.
"i can't, mr. davidson," you said, your voice shaking only slightly. "i have a scheduled leave. it was approved weeks ago."
mr. davidson finally looked at you, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "we have work to do and have to be on schedule. don't be difficult, y/n. sit down and get to work."
"no."
the word felt so foreign to you. several coworkers peered over their cubicles. you were shocked the word had even left your throat. mr. davidson froze, his face turning a blotchy, frustrated red.
"no?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low.
"no," you said, firmer this time, though your hands were trembling under the desk. "i have plans. and i’m leaving at five."
a long, suffocating silence followed. mr. davidson let out a sharp, cold breath. "fine. have a great trip, y/n."
he didn't yell. he just turned on his heel and walked away. the way he said it made your skin crawl. you felt a wave of nausea.
what did i just do?
just when your thoughts were drowning you, jake's name popped up in your notifs.
ready to get out of town, princess?
of course you were. but you couldn't help but worry about what happened just now.
***
the fear of mr. davidson’s parting words followed you all the way out of the city, sitting like a cold stone in your stomach even as the scenery turned green and dark.
it wasn't until jake killed the engine at the glamping site that the silence of the woods finally started to drown out the noise in your head.
"you've been quiet for two hours," jake said, his voice cutting through the dark of the car. he didn't move to get out.
he just watched you, "did something happen at the office?"
"i... i told mr. davidson no," you whispered, looking at your lap. "he wanted me to stay over time today but i told him no. i'm just scared he might get back to me on monday."
jake unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over, his presence suddenly filling your entire field of vision. he didn't offer empty platitudes. he just reached out, his hand firm and warm as he cupped the back of your neck, pulling you toward him until your forehead rested against his shoulder.
"let him try," jake muttered, his voice vibrating with a dark, protective edge.
“hey,” jake holds your cheek, “you're with me now. he doesn't exist out here."
he pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, the orange glow of the distant campfire area reflecting in his pupils. "forget the office. forget him. let's have fun. okay?”
you nod but still scared, “o-okay.”
“princess, i need you to mean it.”
this time, you smile for jake's sake and try your best to erase your boss from your head.
“okay.”
***
the fire crackled, a rhythmic snap and pop that finally started to drown out the echo of mr. davidson’s voice in your head. the orange light licked at the darkness, casting long, dancing shadows of the towering pines against the canvas of the tent.
jake had made short work of the logs. he sat on the rugged outdoor mat he’d spread over the deck, his back against a low wooden bench. he didn't look like a rich man from the city anymore. in his dark sweater, with the firelight softening the sharp bridge of his nose, he looked peaceful.
"you're still doing it," he murmured, his eyes fixed on the flames.
"doing what?" you asked, hugging your knees to your chest.
"thinking about that prick." he turned his head, his gaze heavy and focused. He reached out, his hand wrapping firmly around your ankle to pull you slightly closer to him.
“no. no, i'm not. really.” you slid off the chair and down onto the rug beside him. the heat from the fire hit your face, but the heat from jake, as he draped a heavy arm over your shoulders, was what actually made you shiver.
"though thinking about it now,it felt good. to say no for once.” you smiled, a sense of victory washing over you.
"though i’m scared of what monday is going to look like."
jake tilted his head, his lips brushing against your temple—a gesture so genuine and unforced it made your heart ache.
"monday doesn't exist yet," he said, his voice dropping to a low, viscous hum. "and when it does, he has to go through me to get to you.
he shifted, his hand moving from your shoulder to cup your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. his thumb traced your lower lip, slow and deliberate.
"now," he whispered, his eyes dark with a mix of protectiveness and that familiar, simmering hunger. "are you going to keep worrying about him, or are you going to focus on us?”
you respond by leaning your head on his shoulder. the both of you now looking at the flame as the cold wind brushed your face.
“you know,” you hold jake's arm, “they say people tell stories by the fire.” you whispered.
“yeah?” jake looked at your direction, your hair brushing against his chin, “tell me something then.”
you looked at him, jake's soft eyes really telling you he wants to hear what you have to say.
“i don’t have many grand ones. i’ve spent most of my life being... invisible."
jake didn't shift, but you felt his arm tighten around your shoulder. "invisible?"
you placed your head on jake's shoulder again, "my parents... they didn't expect much," you continued, watching a spark fly up into the dark sky.
“sometimes i think they forgot i was in the room. i’d sit at the table and watch them talk through me, like i was part of the furniture. i tried to fix it relationships. i’d find someone i liked and pour everything into them—becoming their shadow, buying gifts, texting constantly. but the second they noticed how much i needed them, how clingy i got, they'd pull away. i learned pretty fast that if you want people to stay, you have to pretend you don't care if they leave. "
you let out a soft, shaky breath, your eyes still fixed on the embers, half-expecting him to pull his arm away from your shoulder now that you’d admitted how suffocating you could be.
instead, jake’s fingers shifted, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive skin at the back of your neck, grounding you against him.
"those people ran because they were weak, y/n," he murmured, his voice a low, steady vibration against your temple. "most people are terrified of being truly wanted. they want a polite distance because they’re too hollow to handle that much intensity. but i don't want distance. i don't want a ghost who drifts in and out of my room."
he tilted your head up slightly, forcing you to meet his eyes, which were dark and completely devoid of judgment.
"i don't care if you text me a hundred times. i don't care if you mirror me. i prefer the way you cling—it just means your world has finally shrunk down to the only person who actually matters. you aren't 'too much' to me. you’re just mine."
hearing him say it—validating the exact thing that had always made you an outcast—made your heart ache with a strange mix of relief and intensity. you looked at the sharp, calm profile of his face, feeling completely seen for the first time in your life.
"you really don't mind?" you whispered, leaning a little heavier into his side. "everyone else always had a limit.”
jake held your cheek and brushed his thumb, “not me, princess." then he pulls you in a kiss that always got you weak in the knees. and wet in your core. he deepened it instantly, his tongue sliding past your lips with a heavy, bruising hunger that made your head tilt back. one of his hands tangled hard into your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp into his mouth, while his other hand clamped around your waist, dragging you roughly onto his lap until there was no space left between you.
you teased jake by nipping lightly at his bottom lip before pulling back just out of reach, a breathless smile tugging at your mouth. he let out a low, warning hum, his grip on your waist tightening instantly as he tried to drag you right back down to finish what he started. you placed both hands flat against his chest, resisting his pull just enough to shake your head.
"uh-uh," you whispered, your heart still hammering against your ribs. "it's your turn now. tell me something about you."
jake stared at your lips for a second, his dark eyes simmering with irritation at being denied, before he finally let out a defeated, dry chuckle and gave in.
"what made you so... passionate about culinary?" you asked.
a dark, cold smile touched his lips, completely replacing the playful look from a moment ago. "it’s the only place where perfection is a metric you can force. i like the thrill of taking separate, fragile pieces and breaking them down until they form exactly what i want." he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "just like that boy in paris who thought he could out-cook me"
a chill swept over you that had nothing to do with the wind. "you sabotaged him?"
"i ensured there was no version of reality where i could lose," jake corrected coolly. "Just like I handled a girl in school who tried to out-rank me. she had a minor anxiety issue, so i fed it.”
you felt a sudden, suffocating weight press down on your chest.
“she was an obstacle, y/n. and obstacles are meant to be removed."
it was a warning bell screaming in your head. but you deliberately shut it off. you couldn't afford to be afraid of him. not when he was the only person in the world who didn't run away from your clinginess. you pushed the chill aside, burying your face deeper into his neck to hide your trembling lips, choosing his dangerous warmth over the cold reality.
he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. the scent of woodsmoke and his expensive cologne surrounded you. "but i’d never do that to you. you aren't an obstacle."
he didn't wait for you to process the fear pooling in your stomach. he tilted your head back, his thumb pressing into your lower lip, and claimed you in a slow, deep kiss that tasted of bourbon and salt. he hovered over you and you felt yourself falling, before you supported yourself by placing your hand on the log.
“can we take it inside please?” you whispered on jake’s lips and the next thing you knew, you and jake were inside, stripped naked on the bed of your trailer.
“uuuuuugh! oh god!” the feeling of jake letting you ride him with your back facing him was something new but unbelievably hot, an agonizingly deep angle that had you shivering and overstimulated. the sheer vulnerability of not being able to see his face, only feeling the hard, bruising heat of him sinking completely into you, sent a rush of pure electricity straight to your core that made you move even faster.
“back so pretty for me.” jake held your breasts and played with your nipple, rolling the tight bud between his calloused fingers until you were completely dizzy from the pleasure. every time his hips slammed upward, his hand squeezed your flesh harder, anchoring you against his lap. you buried your face in your arm, whining loudly as the overwhelming heat in your core completely dissolved your thoughts, leaving you entirely at his mercy.
the pleasure was too much that you fell on top of jake but instead, he gave more power that had you screaming, loud enough for the animals of the woods to hear.
you gasped for air, your back pressed completely flat against his chest as his hips continued to roll ruthlessly beneath you. “j-jake, please—i can’t, it’s too much—”
“scream my name again, princess. let the whole goddamn forest know who you belong to,” he growled, his voice a dark, gravelly vibration right against your ear as his fingers dug mercilessly into your hips.
“fUUUUUUCK!”
you let out a long, shuddering sob as the pleasure shattered what was left of your mind, leaving your muscles completely weak. you tried to crawl forward, to escape the agonizingly hot friction, but jake’s arm wound tightly around your waist, locking you flush against his lap. he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into you with a raw, brutal power that made your vision spot. jake…too much…" you whined, tears leaking from your eyes.
"look at how tightly you're holding me, y/n," he rasped, his composure entirely gone as he buried his face in your neck, dragging you into another unyielding wave of pleasure you weren't prepared for. "you're not going anywhere."
the words hit you like a physical weight. it sent a sudden, violent shudder straight down your spine. you couldn't tell if it was from the sheer, blinding arousal of his body stretching you open, or a cold, terrifying chill that bled into your chest.
but as his fingers bruised your hips, a faint, nagging instinct whispered in the back of your mind. there was a thin, dangerous line between a man who wanted to hold you, and a man who was locking the cage door behind you. the friction centered in your core was too loud, drowning out the warning bells until the fear and the pleasure melted into the exact same feeling. you just wrapped your fingers tighter into jake’s thighs, screaming as you let him consume you.
jake let out a low, growl against your skin. his body rigid as his final, heavy thrusts drove you both straight over the edge. your core buckled, clamping around him in tight, frantic pulses that had you crying out into the dark trailer. he held you tightly against him for a few agonizingly perfect seconds, his chest heaving violently, before he finally collapsed onto his back, dragging you down with him. you lay tangled together in the quiet room, the sound of your ragged breathing the only thing filling the space as the sweat cooled on your skin.
you lay completely still against his side, your heart still hammering faintly against your ribs. you needed to hear it again – the validation to drown out the memory of the stories he told you.
"promise me you won't run away," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet room. "if i give you everything. if i completely become your shadow. promise me you won't pull away like the others."
you paused, a small tremor in your breath as you looked up at the sharp, dark outline of his jaw. "and... promise me i’m not your obstacle."
jake finally opened his eyes, his dark gaze cutting through the shadows as he looked down at you. he didn't give a soft, comforting promise; he gave a command.
"i don't run from things that belong to me, princess," he murmured, his fingers sliding up to cup your jaw, his grip firm and unyielding. "and why would i destroy the only thing in this world that is entirely mine?"
he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead, a gesture that felt terrifyingly protective.
"you're my shadow now, y/n. and as long as you're with me, i will remove every single obstacle that tries to get in our way."
his words were heavy, wrapping around you like iron bands as he pulled the thick duvet over both of your sweaty bodies. he didn't say another word, just squeezed you tight against his chest, his breathing gradually slowing down into a deep, even rhythm against your ear.
he slept peacefully, anchored by the absolute control he held over the room. but you lay wide awake for a long time, staring out the small window of the trailer at the dark, looming silhouettes of the pines, trying to convince yourself that the weight on your chest was just love.
viscous symmetry (s.jy) - chapter 3
pairings: obsessed!jake x obsessed!reader
you watch jake from the shadows, convinced he's the only one who can complete you. what you didn't know is that he feels the exact same pull, dreaming of the day you'll finally be his. and when your twisted desires are fulfilled, you rush into an intoxicating "happily ever after," only to find your absolute obsession is a death sentence.
warnings: warnings: stalking (both male and female), both jake and reader are obsessed with each other, portrays a twisted kind of “love,” jake is sick in the head, mention of hysteria and anxiety, HEAVY SMUT (name calling, multiple rounds, etc.), more to come
***
jake has always felt different from others.
he wasn't just different; he was a disappointment. at least in his parents’ eyes.
while other toddlers were stringing together first words and seeking out playmates, jake remained unnervingly silent. he preferred to watch the subtle shift of shadows on the wall or the geometric patterns of the nursery carpet.
jake wasn't connecting, he was observing. his parents waited for the spark, the normal curiosity, the simple desire for physical affection. but it never came.
by the age of six, his parents, known internationally for their ruthless success in corporate law, had already given up hope on "normalcy." they didn't just need a child. they needed a successor.
but with jake, they saw only a failure: a detached boy who couldn't communicate like a human should. their solution was simple and brutal: hide him.
jake was sent to australia, looked after by nannies and tutors. to them, he was an asset they couldn’t market.
it was only then, at eight years old, that his parents visited him and jake showed his true, intense interest. It wasn't in friendship, but in the culinary arts.
one silent sunday afternoon, his parents found him standing on a stool in the center of the vast, stainless-steel kitchen. they were furious, ready to scold him for dirtying the space, but the nanny insisted he had demanded to do it himself. even feared him when they saw how the boys pierced look can be as sharp as a knife.
ignoring their looming disappointment, jake turned, having prepared a plate of perfectly seared scallops over a delicate saffron risotto. It was then he spoke, his voice clear and unfamiliar:
“dinner is ready.”
he had overheard them calling him "rare" and "odd." scallops were rare, an expensive dish meant to prove that something singular could be perfectly executed. they tasted it, and the mockery died. his father, a man who rarely used compliments, stared at the plate and declared, "he’s not just smart. he’s a genius!"
within a week, Jake became a marketable asset. he was forced into the peripheral world of chaebol social life, performing at exclusive dinners. he didn't engage in conversation; he spoke of flavor profiles and molecular gastronomy. he had found the ultimate mask: brilliance gave him a "pass" on genuine emotional connection.
by sixteen, jake’s boredom with their elite circle was crushing. he didn't socialize at his prestigious seoul academy; he studied vulnerabilities. his most dangerous experiment involved the student president, yunjin. he orchestrated a flawless piece of sabotage, compromising her final project. when the investigation began, jake offered an airtight alibi, stating that she had always had anxiety problems and can get violent.
as the nurses dragged a "hysterical" yunjin away, jake walked away with a smile.
eventually, he convinced his parents to let him pursue culinary school in australia. he still had no friends, but he understood the necessity of a social shield. that was jay—the son of a major airline CEO. jay was easy to manage, a "service contract" jake maintained so people wouldn't focus on his silence.
while jay dreamed of inheritance, jake dreamed of control. he didn't secure an apprenticeship at a typical five-star hotel; he chose Hybe & Hearth, a kitchen known for its punishing standards. he excelled not out of passion, but out of a need to master the system.
the midday rush was a predictable symphony until he was summoned to the dining room. He walked to the table, already cataloging the "suits" and their boorish demands.
“i’m sim jaeyun, one of Hybe & Hearth’s chefs. how may i help you, sir?”
he delivered his rehearsed lines about dry rubs and searing, his mind already back on tomorrow's mise en place. then, his gaze snagged on you.
you weren't participating. you weren't smiling either. you were simply staring at him. not at the uniform, but at him.
your expression was trancelike. he could see through your eyes—quiet, almost meek, looking as if you wanted to melt into your chair. yet, your focus was absolute. it wasn't the shallow fascination he was used to. it was an unnerving, proprietary stillness.
you’re so beautiful.
the adrenaline hit him like a dizzying vertigo. he realized then that you saw his passion and interpreted it as something you could rely on. you thought he worked for what he wanted and then took care of it.
that where jake decided: he wanted her.
***
after that initial encounter, jake always made sure to look and smell his best. jay told him that women like men who smelled expensive and mysterious, gaze at them to convey confidence, and project an air of calm authority. he may be behind the kitchen most of the time but he always knew you’d cross paths again some day.
from that day forward, jake treated his appearance like a high-stakes, molecular experiment. every thread of his jacket, every angle of his posture, and every precise spritz of the citrus and woody scent made him think of how you’ll succumb to the passion he intends to unleash, and ultimately, your entire being would be mapped onto his.
arriving at the restaurant was a systematic structure he was immensely comfortable with. it was a typical routine for him to cook, plate, and give emotional satisfaction of customers that he knows he gives.
until that one afternoon, he told the head chef he'd be taking a break. and when he was going out to take a smoke, he saw you by the counter being served the risotto he just made.
when the waiter placed the dish in front of you, you stared in awe, taking in the sight before you. and when you scooped up the risotto and brought it to your mouth...for the first time, he saw you smile, and it made him feel a sense of triumph. that smile you made, he made that.
after his shift ended, he went to his sedan, placing his things in the back seat. that is when he noticed from his side mirrors the small red umbrella you had with you this afternoon.
you were waiting for him.
a dazzling smile appeared on his lips, one that was pure, dizzying success. the giddiness clouded his head, knowing that the person he wanted most was now firmly under his control. exhilarating focus.
the next day, jake purposely left his car and walked to hybe & hearth. if he wanted to spend time with you, even by a distance and where you can keep up, he’d do it. and just like he expected, you were there again. this time, you were wearing your white turtleneck and your hair was down. if only he could brush the hair covering your face and see you up close, he could finally catalogue every minute, every detail that made you his.
and after that shift, jake would think of a way to always leave some buttons of his polo open, thinking it might get your attention.
and it worked.
after every shift, he’d leave his buttons unopened, walk a bit slower, not too slow that you might catch him. just enough that he knows you’re always right behind him.
if he wanted some slow dates with you, he’d take you to a cafe like the one called café atelier 01. maybe he’d start with slow talks with you, getting to know you better but he already knows more than you think. like how you’re a hopeless romantic, thinking that every organic encounter is like in the movies.
if that’s what it takes to get you, he’d study what you love most. he'd learn your romantic ideals, memorize your favorite cinematic gestures, and construct a reality so perfectly tailored to your fantasy.
and that’s exactly what he did.
today, instead of heading to café atelier 01, what would be better if you’d know where he lived?
every block he walked, he knew you were stalling yourself. bringing out your wallet and pretend you’re searching for cash? classic move. but he loved seeing you awkwardly trying to blend in.
when jake finally arrived in front of his building, he immediately went to the receptionist, who knew him well enough.
“hey harry,” he leaned in, “i just received a call that a courier dropped an unmarked package in the service stairwell on the third floor. could you maybe help me find it?”
jake was lucky that harry agreed without a doubt. so when he left the table, jake immediately went into the elevator as soon as he saw you scan the lobby with nobody watching, he waited for the perfect timing for you to come to him.
“wait!”
and just like that, jake pressed the prolong button and by the time you went inside, he swore that it felt like a magical moment like when the love of his life suddenly entered into his life in slow motion.
he never believed any of that stuff but you…you did and for you, he’d believe it and and construct a reality so perfectly tailored to your fantasy that you would never want to leave it.
jake watched the number indicator rise, focusing not on the floor, but on the way your throat moved when you swallowed nervously. he catalogued the details: the tight fit of the gray turtleneck, the slight dampness of your hair from the evening chill, the precise rhythm of your breathing. she's trapped, he thought. jake savored the subtle rush of adrenaline he felt only when exercising total control.
“you new here?”
if only you knew how his heartbeat was—a rapid, powerful thrumming. not because he was nervous, but because he wanted to just take you home and finally begin mapping out every part of you.
he can sense your surprised reaction, especially when you froze for 20 seconds before trying to utter a word.
“n-no. no, i don't live here. i’m just…visiting a friend!”
jake found your clumsy, panicked lie utterly charming. It was the perfect, desperate maneuver of a beautiful, cornered animal. the stutter and the transparent excuse confirmed his hypothesis: you were vulnerable, easily flustered, and exquisitely meek—the perfect, fragile mechanism for him to break and reassemble.
the whole time, both of you were oblivious to your situation. you two are really meant for each other, matching each other’s freak.
but to play along, jake pressed the 6th floor button and when you haven’t gotten out of the elevator, he can see your red, flustered face.
how adorable, he thought.
“i’m jake, by the way.”
“i know. i-i mean, i’ve seen you before at hybe & hearth. my colleagues and i ate there. my boss called you one time. you probably wouldn't remember him.”
“oh no, i remember. i recall seeing you.”
if this was his chance to slowly show you how he feels, he’d tell you everyday that you exists in his mind, every minute of everyday you’re all he thinks about.
“see you around, y/n.”
jake knew you’d follow him. heck, he knew you’d follow him to hell even. he didn’t need to know you were walking behind him, pretending you went inside your “friend’s” place.
if only you knew how he purposely left his key under the mat instead of bringing it with him.
as soon as jake enters his place, he doesn’t go to his room or shower, he stays in front of his door.
jake leans his ear on the door, wanting to feel your presence. but for now, he'll imagine you placing small kisses on his temple before pulling you under him.
you might not be with him now.
but soon…
you will be.
***
jake hates taking the train. the idea of cramping up in a pile of people isn’t the most exciting thing for him.
but to be with you, he’d suck up every disgust he felt.
the train arrived at exactly 9 am. as expected, the seats were fully occupied and he had no choice but to stand.
all he could feel was infuriation until he spotted you enter, all of those vanished. for now, he’d hide under the shadows just to see you from afar.
until he saw someone touching you from behind, and he was fuming. he immediately grabbed the bastard and pushed him to the ground.
“what the fuck? how dare you?!”
“back off.”
he wanted to kill the guy. he’s never killed anyone but he’d do it for you. how dare he touched someone so pure and was his alone?
“d-did you guys see?” the man was pointing at jake, “this man assaulted me!”
“assaulted you? i’m not the creep touching women.”
people started whispering, one started cursing at him and he suddenly started shaking as he was standing up. and when the train started to announce the first stop, the man immediately stood up and ran towards the doors, not minding people were screaming at him.
jake was about to chase him but you unconsciously grabbed his arm. and when he saw your face, his eyes softened.
“you alright?” he asks, forgetting that a while ago, he was fuming.
“i-i am now. thank you.”
“he shouldn't have done that.”
out of instinct, he held your face and you didn’t shove him away. at that moment, he could feel that both of you felt safe.
“why are you here? what are you doing here? isn't your apartment on the other side of town?”
“i just got back from a meeting with a supplier. gonna open my own restaurant and they only take private meetings for large contracts before 9 AM.”
“oh. that’s too early.” you unconsciously let out an involuntary slip of true feeling. you reached out, and before your brain could veto the move, your hand landed softly on his shoulder.
“i hope you’re not too tired.”
when you placed your hand on his shoulder, jake wanted to caress your face more and pull you closer to him, smelling your hair and giving yiu neck kisses, not giving a damn if you were ib a subway.
when you realized the sudden contact, you immediately pulled your hand away and quickly raised it to smooth down a nonexistent strand of hair near your ear.
she's adorable, jake thought.
this only happens in movies, jake thought. he was never fond of movies but he did know how people would swoon over scenes where unexpectedly, rain was pouring from the sky and you didn’t have umbrellas.
never did he think he’d accidentally walk into the rain with you and get back to the shed, laughing at the situation.
“funny we'd meet like this again.”
when he noticed you looking at his figure, thanks to his dress shirt drenched by the rain, he mentally smirked. he can see right through your hungry stare. you want him as much as he wants you.
jake calls for a taxi and he gestures to you with a smile that it's for the both of you.
and the whole ride, he can see how you were so composed in staring at hisnchest. not that he minded. in fact, he liked that he isn't the only one with sexual fantasies. like how he'd instantly pull your neck and devour your mouth as he undresses your shirt and slide his mouth down to your neck. god, he'd give anything to hear you moan under him.
the taxi slowed, pulling up to the curb near your building.
“well, this is me,” you said, gathering your bag. when you were just inches away from him, he took that chance to smell you.
honeyed musk. a scent so sweet, pure, and mild but can be hypnotic and fan sink into you so deep.
but jake didn't want to to go yet. so he reached door and opened it for you. when he placed his hand on your shoulder, he tried his best to restrain himself.
“good luck at work,” he said, his lips curving into a slight, knowing smile. “and try to get some sleep, y/n.”
you nod and smile, “thank you, for everything, jake.”
he watches you get out of the taxi until you reached the building, making sure you got in safely.
“see you around.”
***
jake knew you'd be following him. so he did what he did before: play dumb, flawlessly walked into the building as usual.
but today, he wanted to play along with you.
jake found the receptionist, a woman who looked tired and ready for her shift to end. he waited for her to leave and right on cue, she left her spot.
minutes later, a young man in a suit to approach the door and swipe his key. then seconds later, you came in.
he saw how you casually followed beside him. the thought of you being in an elevator alone in another man sent him xx.
but he'd have you tonight. and you are going to beg for him.
jake didn't head for the elevator yet. he stayed in the lobby, watching from the cameras.
there, he saw you walking to his door and getting his key under the nat he purposely left again.
as soon as you got inside, that was his cue to follow you inside.
what felt like forever was finally here.
jake reached his floor, the hallway was silent. he unlocked his door, noticing the slight displacement of the welcome mat. he smiled.
jake stepped knew you were probably panicking and hiding somewhere. but when he noticed his bedroom door, was slightly ajar, he knew you were waiting for him inside.
jake caught the scent of your honey musked scent lingering in his room. it was enough for his cock harden that you were inside his private place.
jake looked at his bed. the linens were wrinkled, the pillows disturbed. he knew exactly what you were doing. and he played along
he made a show of being tired, throwing away his blazer onto the bed and let out a heavy groan as he sat on the edge of the mattress. jake felt the shift of the floor-length curtains behind him. he stood up, walking toward the closet, hanging his shirt with a deliberate clink of the hanger.
he walked back past the curtains, pretending to head for the door. he clicked the light off. then, he waited.
the silence lasted for what felt like an eternity until he heard the soft rustle of velvet. he watched your shadow emerge, your movements agonizingly slow as you tried to reach the exit.
jake knew his touch wasn't gentle. he clamped one hand over your mouth as he slammed you onto the bed and pin you into the dark linens. he could feel your heart hammering against his chest, a frantic, reckless rhythm.
for the first time since you saw each other, you were so close to him. under him.
he leaned down, his lips brushing her temple, savoring the way she shook under his power.
“hey there, princess.”
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viscous symmetry (s.jy) - chapter 2
pairings: obsessed!jake x obsessed!reader
you watch jake from the shadows, convinced he's the only one who can complete you. what you didn't know is that he feels the exact same pull, dreaming of the day you'll finally be his. and when your twisted desires are fulfilled, you rush into an intoxicating "happily ever after," only to find your absolute obsession is a death sentence.
warnings: warnings: stalking (both male and female), both jake and reader are obsessed with each other, portrays a twisted kind of “love,” reader enters jake's home (for this chapter), HEAVY SMUT (name calling, multiple rounds, etc.), more to come
***
see you around.
you kept replaying the scene, like it was the pivotal moment in that romcom movie called serendipity. like when kate beckinsale and john cusack, driven by fate, somehow find their way back to each other.
but fuck this life. this wasn't cinema.
at the office, the air was stale and cold, clinging to your skin like a film. the overhead fluorescent lights hissed and flickered—a rapid, high-pitched static that scraped against your eardrums. your laptop screen was a relentless, glowing square, the cursor blinking with maddening, metronomic persistence, daring you to type.
you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to purge the image of jake's wet shirt clinging to his chest.
y/n, focus, you ordered your racing mind.
you forced your fingers onto the keyboard and began typing a revision, only to stare at the screen. you had typed the name sim jaeyun three times in a row instead of the asset reference number (ARN). a cold sweat prickled your hairline. you deleted the name quickly, glancing around the half-empty office, terrified someone might have seen the mistake. you told yourself it was just stress, just the lack of sleep.
“y/n, i might need some help.” your coworker, chaewon, approached your desk, her voice bright and irritatingly normal.
you forced your lips into a tight, professional smile, your jaw aching with the effort. "sure, what's up?"
“if you could maybe pull up the latest demographic data for the eternal moonlight campaign? i need to know the average age range before i finalize this tagline for the new movie. does 'soul-stirring' even resonate with the 35-to-45 group, or is it too cringey? we can't have ahn yujin marketing a flop, right?"
ugh, what the hell. can’t she look for those herself?
the thought sliced through your mind, sharp and involuntary. You knew it was your job but you just can’t handle anymore stuff when your mind and your heart wants something else.
“the data is on the Q3 share drive,” you managed, your voice sounding thin and distant. “it’s under the budget codes. just filter by the ARN for the campaign.”
"perfect! i need it for the final copy approval meeting this afternoon. thanks, y/n, you're a lifesaver!" chaewon nodded brightly, missing the tremor in your hands entirely.
the interruption was over, but the cold weight of your work immediately settled back on you. you glanced at your desk, where the pile of pending documents looked less like paper and more like a suffocating stone. the half-finished slide glowed mockingly on your screen, a stark white canvas of tasks undone, and the notes for the new presentation lay spread out, a dizzying grid of impossible deadlines. the sheer volume of it all pressed down, making the stale air feel heavy in your lungs.
this mundane, grinding routine of selling packaged fantasy was no longer just boring; it was a painful, physical restraint keeping you from the only person who mattered. you were sacrificing everything for a job that demanded your ruin. and for what?
the sheer volume of work was drowning you: stacks of printed documents, contract summaries, heavy with required revisions for the next slate of holiday romances. the clock on your monitor ticked, the numbers advancing with slow, deliberate cruelty. you pressed your hand against the desk, digging your nails into the smooth surface for an anchor. every sound—the click of a pen, the distant traffic—was suddenly amplified, unbearable. the mundane, grinding routine of selling packaged fantasy was no longer just boring; it was a painful, physical restraint keeping you from the only person who mattered. you were sacrificing everything for a job that demanded your ruin. and for what?
you couldn’t breathe.
you couldn’t breathe. you had spent the rest of the day in a tight, silent battle, forcing your eyes across endless spreadsheets and contract drafts, but every single number was a lie.
at 8:00 pm, hours past when the last reasonable person had left, the line separating fantasy and reality finally and irrevocably snapped. the exhaustion was too great. you stared at the glowing spreadsheet, but the data blurred entirely. the numbers dissolved, resolving instead into the clean, hard lines of jake's face.
“i’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered to yourself while gritting your teeth.
slamming the computer shut, you stood up and walked past your desk with a terrifying, absolute calm. you did not leave a note behind; no backward glance was necessary.
as you walked toward the elevator bank, you heard the unmistakable, furious bark of your boss calling your name. you didn't give a damn. ignoring the sound as if it were distant traffic, you hailed a cab outside the building, giving the driver the only coordinates that mattered: jake's building.
***
as soon as the cab pulled away, you immediately went inside the building.
you took a good look at the receptionist and apparently, she’s still there. the first time, you got lucky but you weren’t sure if the universe will still be at your side tonight. the lobby was quiet, no one was entering the elevator or creating a scene of some sort. you just needed to get inside that elevator.
a moment later, a young man in a suit approached the door, swiped his key fob, and walked through. you were already moving. you were through the elevator doors as fast as you can before the lock could click back into place. the receptionist glanced up, then dismissed your presence, assuming you were with the man in the elevator.
the man got off the 5th floor, probably with his girlfriend when he mentioned the word ‘baby’ in his phone call. then it was just you alone. you pressed the number 7 on the floor buttons.
your heart was not merely beating, but hammering—a loud, frantic, and reckless pulse—a panic you hadn't planned for. a thin film of cold sweat coated your palms, and your hands felt foreign and clumsy. you were on a path you hadn't rehearsed, driven entirely by the overwhelming, impulsive urge to be near jake.
when the elevator ding-ed, you felt as if you were about to enter a test you didn’t prepare for.
the doors slid open silently, revealing a quiet, anonymous hallway paved with cold, polished tiles. you stepped out, your footsteps echoed—a sharp, sudden sound that felt deafening in the stillness. you walked slowly, letting your eyes slide across the clean lines of the identical apartment doors until you reached the one you knew by heart. the walk felt like miles.
What you thought would take forever, you approached the door, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm in your throat, then reached down without breaking your stare. under the welcome mat, the spare key was exactly where you knew it would be. you curled your fingers around the cold metal, and the chaotic world suddenly clicked into terrifying, absolute focus.
when you opened the door, a wave of clean, cool air, carrying a faint scent of expensive citrus and woody scent—washed over you. you stepped across the threshold, easing the heavy door shut behind you. the entry was wide and uncluttered, everything sharp and high-end, a stark contrast to the cramped reality of your rental apartment. you didn't dare move, suddenly hyper-aware of your sweaty palms and the dust you might track in. every surface looked expensive, sterile, and forbidden. you stood suspended between the panic of being an intruder and the perverse satisfaction of finally breathing jake's air, unsure what, if anything, you dared to touch.
you noticed how the living room wall was entirely glass.for a private man like jake, you didn’t think he’d like his space to be shown. but then again he does have curtains he can cover his windows whenever he wants.
you drifted past the black marble island of the kitchen and paused for only a beat at the massive windows. the view was a cold, indifferent sprawl, yet it was magnifying your recklessness, making your presence here feel immense and undeniable.
but the periphery couldn't hold you. you turned away from the glass, letting the obsession reclaim its focus. the only place that mattered, the only place that held the true, terrifying intimacy you craved, was in the back. you headed straight for jake’s bedroom.
you found the bedroom door and pushed it open, the gentle give of the lock a weak sound against the violent pulse in your ears. the room was a dim, contained twilight, lit only by the distant wash of city lights.
it felt surreal that you were finally, finally entering his world.
you touched the soft, dense material of the blanket, before climbing onto the mattress. burying your face in the pillow, a low moan escaped as you inhaled his scent. you ran your palms slowly over the sheets, tracing invisible patterns, a smile crept across your face.
your fantasies were cut short when you heard an echoing thud from the front door. the sound was followed almost immediately by a sharp metallic click as the key was turned in the inner lock. it wasn't the tentative sound of a visitor. it was the definitive sound of jake coming home.
the blood in your veins instantly turned to ice. you immediately got up from the bed, thinking of a place to hide. his walk-in closet might be too spacious and he will see you in one glance. the bed has no space underneath.
you continued to scan where you can hide when your eyes landed on the long floor-length curtains. with a silent, heart-stopping sprint, you threw yourself behind the thick velvet, pulling the fabric closed around you.
you carefully but quietly wrapped yourself behind the fabric, hoping jake would just be tired to notice something might not be right.
damn, the bed! anxiety began to spiral in your head as you remembered how you left the bed wrinkled. all you could do was hold onto the hope that if jake would catch you, he’d just threaten you to never come back instead of calling the cops on you. it would hurt but at least you wouldn’t have a criminal record.
your blood stopped when you heard the door of the bedroom open, hearing the lights go on with the click. jake probably threw his blazer on the bed when you heard a piece of clothing hitting the mattress. then you hear him groan when he throws his body on the bed.
by this time, your heart was beating fast and you were covering your mouth from letting your unsteady breaths be heard. you felt him move closer, the slightest rustle of air signaling his approach. you knew he had walked past the curtain when you heard him stop near the closet entrance. then came the clink of metal against metal, followed by a soft thwump—jake is hanging his polo shirt, you assume.
your entire body rigidified as he finished the task. you heard his footsteps resume, tracing the path back from the closet and past your hiding spot for a second agonizing time. he didn't pause. he continued toward the far wall, and then you heard the soft, final click of the bedroom door closing.
he was gone.
after what felt like years, you were able to release the breath you’ve been holding. you began to carefully slide from behind the curtain, your movements agonizingly slow. with each step, you placed your foot onto the tiled floor with care, making sure not to apply the slightest weight that might cause a sound.
you took one, two steps—believing you were free—when everything moved too fast to register.
strong hands, smelling faintly of citrus and cold steel, clamped over your mouth and shoulder, shoving you backward with brutal efficiency. you were slammed onto your back on the bed. the dark linens instantly rough against your skin, your mouth covered by the overwhelming force of his hand.
‘hey there, princess.’
viscous symmetry (s.jy) - chapter 4
pairing: obsessed!reader x obsessed!jake
you watch jake from the shadows, convinced he's the only one who can complete you. what you didn't know is that he feels the exact same pull, dreaming of the day you'll finally be his. and when your twisted desires are fulfilled, you rush into an intoxicating "happily ever after," only to find your absolute obsession is a death sentence.
warnings: stalking (both male and female), both jake and reader are obsessed with each other, portrays a twisted kind of “love,” HEAVY SMUT (multiple rounds, kitchen sex, shower sex, unprotected sex, oral receiving for f. and m.)
***
“hey there, princess.”
your panic spikes, a primal surge of terror. you try to pull away, scream louder even but jake just shushes you and presses his hand harder on your mouth.
“shhh, stop fighting.”
a wet, muffled sob catches in your throat. he’s too strong, too calm. every nerve ending is screaming the lie: no, he doesn't know. i can still talk my way out of this.
jake uses his other hand to wipe the tear from your left eye, “you weren’t so good at hiding, you know? but it got me thinking, how else can i spend time with you? at the cafe, ride with you in the elevator, at the train, in the taxi.”
fuck. he knew this whole time.
“and now, you’re here with me.”
jake slowly removes his hand from your mouth, and you couldn’t help but shake out of nervousness.
“p-please…don’t hurt me. i’ll never follow you again, i swear.”
“hurt you?” his voice softens, but the intensity in his eyes doesn't lessen. he leans down until his lips brush your temple.
“why would i break the one perfect thing i've ever found?”
you couldn't process the chilling intensity of his words or formulate another pathetic plea before his hand clamped firmly onto the back of your head. when no words came out of your mouth, he crashed his mouth down onto yours, silencing you completely.
the kiss was demanding, tasting of dark satisfaction and years of desperate wanting. you couldn't believe it was real. you didn't move. your entire world, already tilted precariously by his confession, was now spinning wildly out of control.
but then his tongue sought entry, and his teeth scraped lightly against your lower lip. the movement made you moan and jake took that chance to insert this tongue into your mouth. the shock was over. you finally stopped fighting your own desire. your hands flew up, tangling fiercely in his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him back with a sudden, devastating hunger.
the air immediately grew thick with heat, and the kiss became a messy, lustful collision—a desperate symphony of gasps and guttural sounds that erupted from both of you. it was a raw, frantic consumption of the obsession you both shared.
both you and jake decided to tease each other, stopping the kiss and catching each other’s lips. it turned into a breathless game. he wrenched his head back, pulling his mouth inches from yours, leaving your lips swollen and tingling. a harsh gasp tore from your throat, but before you could chase his retreat, he caught your bottom lip between his teeth, worrying the skin before pulling back again.
you retaliated, hooking your fingers fiercely behind his neck, hauling him back, but instead of connecting fully, you aimed for the corner of his jaw, sucking a hot mark into his skin. lips were caught and released, teeth scraped skin, and shallow, burning kisses were dealt out everywhere except where you both desperately wanted them.
your steamy, petty little contest broke when jake abruptly abandoned your mouth. he brushed his lips downward, settling them hard onto the sensitive column of your throat. his teeth raked a path down to your collarbone, suckling and biting skin he immediately soothed with his tongue.
“shit," jake groans as he continued to suck your neck fiercely while his hands went to work.
“i gotta have you,” he says as he grips your hip with one hand, the other burrowed beneath your shirt, his cold fingers shocking your burning skin as they claimed your waist.
your hands were already fighting the fabric, desperate to feel jake’s skin, tearing at the front of his shirt. jake answered your urgency with his own brutal demand, yanking the hem of your shirt upward. the fabric caught beneath your arms for a split second before he ripped it over your head and tossed it aside. with one sharp motion, his fingers found the clasp of your bra, and the sound of the snap was loud in the quiet. he peeled the lace away, the garment joining your shirt on the floor, before tossing away his shirt.
his gaze locked onto your eyes for a sharp, terrifying moment—a final acknowledgment of the power and the passion—before dropping to your exposed chest. a guttural sound of pure need vibrating low in his chest, he grabbed the buckle of your pants. and fiercely wrenched the zipper down. you didn't wait for him to finish. your fingers were already fumbling with the button of his own pants, needing the last barrier gone. you unbuckled his belt and button with a frantic impatience, desperate to discard the final layers separating you from the reality of having him now.
now that both you and jake are bare, he wasted no time in kneeling down, shoving your legs apart with his thighs and lowering his head to your clit. you barely had time to register the chill of the air on your skin before the first hot, shocking touch of his mouth settled on your pussy. a choked cry of disbelief and need tore from your throat. your hands, useless now against his focused pleasure, instinctively shot up to tangle fiercely in the hair at the back of his head.
jake continued building up the sensation between your thighs, and your body responded instinctively, grinding relentlessly against his face. your movements were so needy, seeking friction that jake rumbled, "god, you taste so good," he murmured against your core.
he intensifies his movements as he flicks tongue and applies pressure to your sensitive clit. your hips began to arch wildly off the bed, desperation twisting your features as the intensity pulled you toward the breaking point. he kept you right there, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, making you beg silently for the final release.
when you try to move, jake presses your legs in place. his hands settled heavily on your inner thighs, clamping your frantic hips to the mattress. he applied more relentless pressure with his mouth that it made you scream at the top of your lungs and arch your back, not caring if you’d break. if this was what heaven is, you’d have your back broken everyday to feel this.
“jake, fuck!”
he flicked out his tongue, applying pressure to your sensitive clit. the speed of his movements increased rapidly as he began to suck and draw with deliberate pressure. one of his hands curl inside your core, the sensational feeling making you feel like you can forgot your name and just remember his.
just before you could feel yourself release, jake pulled his head away. you let out a frustrated whine from the cruel withdrawal. you instinctively tried to buck your hips up, begging for the return of his mouth, but he gave you no time.
with a surge of raw strength, jake stood up and quickly flipped you over onto your stomach. his large hands quickly slid under your hips, not even processing his next move. until he slammed into you. the entry was hard and deep. a sharp gasp of shock consumed you.
”yeah,” jake’s voice was a rough affirmation as he bucked his hips forward. the brutal impact tore a fresh, loud scream from your lips, flooding your body with a mix of shock and intense pleasure.
“you’re still so tight,” another push, “you are perfect. this is how I always imagined taking you.”
the words finally ripped free of your throat, desperate and raw, meeting his possessive rhythm with your own twisted need, “this–OH GOD, YES! JAKE!”
jake didn't wait for a response. he began to move faster, the slow possession giving way to a relentless, punishing rhythm designed to consume your awareness entirely. his hands slammed down onto your hips, controlling your movement as he drove into you again and again.
you both pushed and bucked your hips against the friction, turning the passion into a desperate contest. with every movement, the lustful sounds grew louder. a mix of harsh gasps, ragged moans, and guttural demands. but you didn't give a damn if his neighbors would judge you for fucking like animals.
as much as this intense movement was making your legs, arms, and throat ache, you desperately want to stay in this position forever.
the fierce, unstoppable motion of your bodies finally reached a peak. your vision blurry, a scream as jake pushed your face down on the mattress as he pounds a desperate series of thrusts.
your muscles locked and then went limp, and your body collapsed onto the silk sheets, heavy with sweat and exhaustion.
jake didn't move immediately. he stayed buried deep inside you, his ragged breath sawing against the skin of your neck.
for a brief, dizzying moment, you thought it was over.
with a possessive strength that surprised your exhausted body, he pushed your back against the mattress, giving you time to catch your breath before he lifts your legs and places them on his shoulders, “we’re not done yet, princess.”
without warning, he pushes himself inside you again. it was brutal and deep, making you cry out as the raw intimacy of the position demanded renewed submission. jake began to move with a punishing, deliberate pace, starting the cycle of obsession all over again.
your back arches at the movement, your eyes rolling at the back of your head. your hands find their way on jake’s back. your nails clawed blindly on his back, leaving stinging tracks in his skin. he responded to the pain and the friction by pushing himself even deeper, slamming his hips against yours until you can hear the bed creaking due to his movements.
the sight below jake made him feel a rush of triumph. watching your mouth open in a desperate, breathy whine as your hips bucked against his, and seeing your breasts move wildly with every hard impact—it was the most beautiful, intoxicating wreckage he had ever witnessed. the fact that it was him shattering your control and driving you to this frantic state sent an immediate, powerful jolt of arousal through him. he felt an intense, dark pride that every gasp, every moan, every desperate movement was his alone to command.
“you love this?” he asked, a mix of pain and pleasure audible in the command. “you gonna let me take you?”
you screamed, the sound tearing from your throat, knowing your core was screaming in pain, yet the feeling was making you shatter with pleasure.
”yes, yes! take me!” you demanded, bucking your hips up to meet his fierce thrusts. “take all of me!”
he didn't need to be told twice. jake let out a primal yell and thrusts himself into you harder, faster, consuming every single bit of you. he crushed his body down onto yours, wrapping his arms fiercely around your back. his chest plastered against yours as he reached his high, feeling your body strain and catch up with his speed.
both of you scream at the top of your lungs, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room, the feeling of sweat dripping onto your body and the silk sheets. but you didn’t care. because jake had finally branded you, and with absolute certainty, you already belong to him.
jake's pace suddenly faltered. he groaned, the rough sound turning into a choked gasp, and he buried his face against your neck as his movements slowed. until he finally stopped his movements, and that's when you felt a sudden, thick gush of his warm liquid deep inside you. his release flooding your core and instantly mixing with your own.
both of you catch your breath and cling to each other, desperate you’ll feel each other’s warmth and the raw vulnerability that bound you together after the intimacy you just experienced.
what seemed like forever, jake was the first to withdraw from your touch. the activity sent an immediate, sharp pang of longing through you for his touch. when he saw the desperate look in your eyes, jake chuckled before pulling you up with him.
jake enveloped his arms around you, feeling your warmth once again. he lowered his head to inhale his own scent, which was now mixed thoroughly with your sweat and clinging to your neck. he then brushed his hands gently through your damp hair.
“what am i going to do with you?”
jake’s seductive voice sent a chill down your spine and you’re pretty sure he knows how much he is affecting you.
“keep you. that's what. keep you right here, where you belong.”
his words of dominance and possession were so contradictory to the soft, reassuring, and caring tone he used just now.
“what do you say, princess? do you want to be with me forever?”
like breathing, you immediately nod your head and breathily whisper, “yes,” until you feel your eyes finally slide shut.
as you passed out, jake held yoy tightly in his strong arms. the man who finally claimed you.
***
the first thing you feel is the pull of muscle memory, a soreness down there when you try to move your body a little. you push yourself up on your elbows, the plush duvet slipping to reveal you are naked.
reality hits you in a cold, clean rush: the expansive windows, the skyline view, the unfamiliar, luxurious platform bed you're lying on right now.
the hazy, frantic memory of last night snaps into sharp focus. that wasn't your imagination—it was real. you really are in jake's condo. You’ve just entered into his world.
“oh my god.”
you cover your face, still processing that your dreams finally came true. every kiss, every touch, every sound you both shared that night came in a flash, and you could feel a frantic, electric energy sparking your whole body. all you could do was kick your legs under the duvet, a muffled, frantic spasm that vibrated through the mattress, a secret, hysterical triumph.
once you had composed yourself, your eyes scanned the room and settled on the chair in front of the bed; a robe had been neatly laid across it, accompanied by a folded note.
the chill made your bare skin prickle as you walked over. you took the note from the chair. and read the message: meet me at the kitchen, princess.
he kept calling you that name last night. over and over. it was constant. like you were really his and his alone.
***
jake was busy making an omelet stuffed with bacon and cheese, your favorite omelette fillings. of course he'd get to know that about you. omelette might be a mediocre breakfast but if it's what you love, he'd do it for you.
his hands were steady as he flipped the eggs, but his mind was running a mile a minute. excited as hell, tense as a wire. he was putting on a show, waiting to see if you'd buy the domestic bliss he was selling.
on cue, you got out of his room, wearing only the robe he left, with your cleavage slightly showing.
you always hear how some men doing domestic work are sexy as hell though you never understood that until now. jake looked so focused and composed despite going back and forth to cook dishes.
when you saw an omelette with bacon and cheese, a smile instantly grew on your face. he knew what you liked and he made it for you. beside the omelet, he was tending to something else—a thin, golden pancake-like thing. a crêpe with an egg inside, maybe another omelet style.
when jake noticed your presence, he whipped his head around from the stove, his eyes locking onto your robed figure. he offered a clean, genuine smile.
"there you are," he murmured, his hands immediately settling onto the countertop. your stomach was turning inside out, but he was cool and utterly at ease, acting as if last night wasn't your first session together.
"g-good morning." you manage to say as you lean weakly against the wall. the sound of your voice is tight and shaky.
jake chuckled, turning from the stove with a plate in hand. you watched as he slid the golden crêpe, glistening with sauce, onto the plate. "you didn't seem shy last night," he teased, his eyes holding yours, "especially when you were demanding me not to stop.”
the intense heat rising in your face made any reply impossible. the memory of last night had just been thrown back at you with too much force. you swallowed hard, desperate for air, but the words wouldn't form.
jake, however, was clearly enjoying your distress. he moved to the island, smoothly setting down two forks on the countertop. "just take a stool," he says.
you slowly made your way to the island and pulled out a stool. jake immediately placed the bacon and cheese omelet in front of you. your lips curved instantly into a smile, a reaction that made jake feel a profound sense of victory.
"go on, dig in."
and when you took a bite, your smile grew wider, a look of pure, unadulterated pleasure washing over your face.
"how is it?”
“it's really good!”
there it is. the sound of your genuine pleasure was the real reward. your confidence snapped back, and you immediately wiped the nervous flutter from your expression.
he pushes the second plate—the one with the mysterious crêpe—closer to you. "try this one too. it's crêpes suzette. figured you might want to try something else."
you looked at the dish in front of you, mesmerized that for the first time in your life, you're having a fancy breakfast.
you cut a small piece of the glistening crêpe and brought it to your mouth. the flavor—a burst of warm citrus, sweet butter, and rich liqueur—was unlike anything you'd ever tasted. your eyes widened in surprise, and you could only manage a small, satisfied nod, cheeks warm with sudden shyness.
jake chuckles at your expression and you continue to take more bites, forgetting the omelette you loved existed. his eyes didn't leave your face, and the warm satisfaction in his gaze made the back of your neck prickle. you set down the fork, suddenly conscious of his steady, expectant attention.
your fork froze halfway to your mouth. you met his gaze, holding it for just a beat of charged, awkward silence as the memories of the night before flooded back. finally, you asked, "about last night..."
you set the fork aside, took a deep breath, and you spoke: "were all your words and actions true? or did you just say those things to get me here and get back on me for following you?”
jake’s smile began to falter, vanishing entirely. his eyes went flat and cold. his face looked like he’d been slapped—insulted that you could think his master plan was so cheap. for one terrifying second, you saw the full, chilling extent of his anger.
then, just as quickly, the tension melted. he pushed himself off the counter and walked around the island counter. he took your hand in both of his, his touch warm and firm. "don't ever talk like that, princess," he murmured, his voice now low and velvety. he drew his thumb on your mouth, "i didn't get you here. the universe gave you to me.”
he touched your cheek, “we’re destined for each other. i'm yours. and you're mine.”
and with that, he sealed his possessive declaration with a deep, consuming kiss. it was quiet and slow, a long, firm claim that held no question or feverish uncertainty. the soft weight of his lips against yours whispered the same cold truth as his words: you belonged here. it wasn't just desire, not a simple infatuation or obsession.
no.
it was a covenant. it was the comfort of knowing his love matched your own.
jake’s hands, still smelling faintly of the citrus from the crêpes, slid down to the tie of your robe, undoing it with a slow, agonizing deliberation.
"breakfast can wait," he whispered against your lips, his voice a low vibration that made your knees weak. he lifted you onto the cold marble of the kitchen island, the contrast of the chilled stone against your heated skin making you gasp.
the "yearning" you both felt was a physical ache, a hunger that couldn't be satisfied by food. he moved between your legs, his eyes dark with a pride that said “i own every part of this.”
jake removed his shirt then his boxers and gave you one last kiss before lowering his face to your core.
the sight made you let out a ragged, trembling exhale, your body already beginning to arch in anticipation. you felt a rush of frantic excitement—a primal need to be wrecked by him—and as your breath hitched, you knew he could see exactly how much power he held over you.”
when you felt jake's lips on your clit, you let out a broken, shaky sob. his tongue felt like velvet but moved with the strength of a command. he licks upward in long, slow stripes that felt like he was tasting every secret part of you.
more like jake was savoring you. his mouth hot and insistent as he mapped out the territory he had already claimed as his own.
his movements were slow, making you whine how he's torturing you by not giving you enough yet.
jake took his time marking you, his tongue tracing long, heavy stripes along your inner thighs before centering all that heat directly onto your clit. he flicked against the sensitive peak with a devastating rhythm, suckling the swollen nub into his mouth until your hips were bucking uncontrollably against the cold marble.
then, his adrenaline hit. jake began devouring your core with a frantic, hungry pace—his tongue lapping deep and rough, his teeth occasionally grazing your skin in a way that made you see stars. he moved like a starving man, alternating between deep, wet laps and sharp, focused suction that made every nerve ending in your body scream.
“jake! OH MY GOD!”
you could feel yourself completely coming apart, your body gushing with a heavy heat as your essence slicked his lips and chin. you knew you were making a mess of him, your own cream sticking to his mouth and staining his skin, but you didn’t care. in fact, seeing him wear you like that—devouring the evidence of your pleasure, only made the next wave of release hit you even harder.
your unfinished breakfast now cold. your robe, well his robe, discarded on the floor. both of you bare and naked.
his mouth was a warm, skilled in sucking everything you had. the minutes he spent down there felt less like time and more like a deliberate, focused erosion of your sanity, leaving you gasping, raw, and desperate for the release he was controlling.
the stimulation was too much that you can feel yourself falling completely over the edge.
"cum for me, princess," he growls. you feel yourself getting turned on more as you hear the sound of lewd noises of his slurping, teasing kisses on your pussy, each movement tightening the knot of pleasure until you were nothing but a desperate moan.
“i'm cumming!” you pulled jake's hair, not caring if it hurt him but you were sure he didn't mind. he was gripping your thighs tighter as he continued his work on your pussy, humming at the way you were moaning and grinding on his face.
later, a warm flood came out of you. you were panting, your head thrown back, your body instantly slack and boneless as he finally pulled back, only to settle his chin right above your damp core, claiming his success.
he gave a soft gentle kiss to your core again, before standing and helping you up.
both of you were catching your breaths, your bodies pressed close, slick with sweat and the aftermath of your climax. you were clinging to him, and he was clinging just as tightly to you, finding a steady warmth in the contact. the kitchen was silent again, the scent of sex mingling in the air. his hands rested heavy and possessive on your waist, a subtle reminder that the moment of shared ecstasy was over, and the time for his control had returned. your face buried on his neck, and your arms wrapped around his shoulders, inhaling the clean, specific scent of his skin and letting the solid weight of his body support your own completely.
jake stayed rooted there, holding you tightly for a few more steadying breaths. his chest was still heaving under your cheek as he rasped, "that...was the best breakfast i've ever had."
a raw, breathy laugh bubbled up from your chest, and he joined in, the sound shaking your shared silence and erotic air lingering in the room.
you steadied your trembling body and faced jake. no words were needed. as you gently brushed his damp hair from his forehead, your gaze, filled with raw, unapologetic happiness and deep, total enjoyment, told him everything.
jake studied your face, his gaze deep and heavy, breaking the silence. “you’re so beautiful, princess. especially when you’re looking only at me.”
you answered with a fierce, passionate kiss, a silent confirmation of your bond. when you pulled back, you whispered against his lips, "we definitely need a shower."
then, you pressed your mouth to his ear, "but maybe you can give me a little more than crêpes for the next course.”
***
on the cold tiles of jake’s bathroom, your knees were slightly hurting but if you were giving jake the best head of his life, you wouldn't give a damn.
jake's head slammed back against the porcelain as you deliberately took his cock into your mouth. his eyes squeezed shut as you sucked him full. the friction was a hot, liquid current, and you were consumed by the slick, musky taste that bloomed on your tongue with every pull.
his hips twitched violently, and his fingers found purchase in your hair. "don't stop," he commanded, his voice a low, raw snarl.
the power surge you felt intensified every time you sucked him in and drew him deep.
his fingers suddenly clenched in your wet hair, pulling your head back, the movement a fraction too rough. the pleasure vanished, replaced by a sharp sting at your scalp. you broke suction instantly, gasping, only to meet his eyes. they weren't glazed with lust anymore; they were dark, and hungry.
"look at me," he commanded. “do you enjoy making me beg for you?"
he didn't wait for the answer. with a swiftness that stole your breath, he pushed your head back down, but this time his grip was different—a firm, non-negotiable pressure that guided you, leaving no room for your own rhythm.
you were being filled with jake's warm cum in your mouth, and you choked more, gagging on his cock as his hips slammed the back of your throat deeper.
“just like that. be my good girl and swallow every cum."
you could feel the sharp sting of tears welling in your eyes, but when your head bobbed up just enough for a split second, you saw his eyes—dark, dilated, and consumed.
he needs this. you took him in deeper, choosing the painful depth just to watch him fracture.
“fuck, princess. take every bite in your mouth. don't... don't you dare waste this." he says the last line like it's an obligation, a vow you cannot say no to.
the back of your throat seized, a violent, automatic gag tearing out of you, instantly muffled by the sheer, thick volume that erupted into your mouth.
you were drowning in the slick, heavy proof of his release, warm and slightly metallic on your tongue.
a desperate, animalistic whimper tried to escape, but the pressure in your skull from his grip and the fullness in your mouth blocked it completely.
jake finally releases into your mouth, his entire body collapsing momentarily against the cold tiles while panting and trying to catch his breath.
the immediate, suffocating sensation was still overwhelming—you could taste the slick, metallic proof of his release filling your mouth, leaving no room for air.
you dragged in a series of ragged, desperate breaths before finally raising your head. when your eyes met jake's, you slowly ran your tongue along your jaw, licking the trail of his cum from your chin while staring at him innocently.
the droplets from the shower washed the sweat and the metallic scent of his climax down the tiles around your knees. you were still kneeling, head bowed slightly in the steady downpour.
the moment the last trace of him vanished from your chin, jake’s hand snapped from your hair and seized your jaw, his grip immediately cold and unforgiving. he forced your face up, eliminating the innocent act.
his eyes, though heavy with the exhaustion of climax, were flat and dangerously intense.
"promise me you will never look at another man. swear it to me now."
your throat was raw, but you met his intense gaze, offering him the small, vital piece of control he required. the words were low, completely sincere, and weighted with all the longing you held for him.
"i only look at you, jake."
he released your jaw only to cup the back of your head, drawing you forward until his forehead rested against yours.
"good, he muttered into your skin, “because i’m keeping you.” he says before lifting you up and ramming his still aching cock inside you, making you scream until your lungs burned, the sound echoing off the wet bathroom tiles.
viscous symmetry (s.jy) - chapter 7
pairing: obsessed!reader x obsessed!jake
warnings: stalking (both male and female), both jake and reader are obsessed with each other, portrays a twisted kind of “love,” TIME JUMP, HEAVY SMUT (public sex, female oral receiving, fingering, couch sex, overstimulation), reader is needy, reader has a toxic boss, chaewon is y/n's coworker who is a gossiper and doesn't know boundaries
premise: you watch jake from the shadows, convinced he's the only one who can complete you. what you didn't know is that he feels the exact same pull, dreaming of the day you'll finally be his. and when your twisted desires are fulfilled, you rush into an intoxicating "happily ever after," only to find your absolute obsession is a death sentence.
***
a shadow fell over your desk, followed by the soft, rhythmic clack of manicured nails against the laminate divider.
"still working on that proposal, y/n?"
the voice was bright and bubbly. you didn't need to look up to know it was chaewon. She was leaning against the edge of your cubicle, a designer coffee cup cradled in her hands.
to everyone else, she was the office sweetheart who always remembered everyone’s birthday. to you, she was a well-meaning but relentless investigator who didn't know the meaning of a boundary.
"just doing some edits," you lied, finally forcing your fingers to move across the keyboard in a meaningless sequence of delete-and-type. you kept your eyes glued to the monitor, desperate to hide the slight puffiness of your lids from the argument with jake.
"you've been on that slide for twenty minutes," chaewon noted, her tone tilting into that high-pitched, helpful concern that always set your teeth on edge.
“are you feeling okay? you look a bit... frayed. i saw you looking gloomy all morning and—well, i don't want to overstep, but you looked so stressed! do you need coffee? i’m happy to take over the tagging for this campaign if you need a break."
there it was. chaewon is either dense or just too kind to know the "help" that was actually an invitation to vent. she always had a nose for drama and could tell something was shifting under your professional mask. in this office, she’d spend the rest of the day dissecting your personal life under the guise of "being there for you."
"i’m fine, chaewon. really,” you said, finally turning to give her a soft, practiced smile.
“just a morning jitters. i'll have the final draft in the shared folder by lunch."
she tilted her head, her eyes scanning your face with a precision that felt like she was looking for a secret to polish. "if you say so! just don't burn yourself out, “ she moves closer to you and whisper, “mr. davidson already has everyone under a microscope.”
she gave your shoulder a quick, lingering squeeze before she sauntered away. the silence she left behind felt heavier than before.
you were trapped between two fires: trying to keep your secret safe from her "kind" prying and the desperate need to make things right with your boyfriend.
boyfriend.
you and jake had been intimate and very familiar with your personal lives. but you weren’t sure what you were.
then the thought of you crashing out on him suddenly made you feel embarrassed. you didn't have a label yet he told you he wasn't bored of you and that he missed you. but you didn't know what you were.
the word felt strange. you and jake had been intimate and knew everything about each other’s lives, but you still weren’t sure what you actually were to him.
now that the anger was fading, a wave of embarrassment hit you. you had completely crashed out on him, and you didn't even have a label to lean on. he had told you he wasn't bored of you and that he missed you. but without a label, you felt like you were standing on shaky ground. you had let your emotions spin out of control over a man who wasn't even technically yours.
you reached into your bag, keeping your phone low so mr. davidson wouldn't see. your heart did a nervous gallop as you saw one notification.
jake: drink some water. don't forget to eat lunch.
that was it. no "i'm sorry," just a practical reminder. it was so him. caring but frustratingly calm while you were falling apart.
you shoved the phone back into your bag. you had to distract yourself from a man you should be angry at.
the digital assets on your screen, endless rows of encryption codes and licensing dates started to look like gibberish. you needed air.
you grabbed your bag and slipped out the side exit, making sure to avoid the glass-walled corner office where your boss sat.
minutes later, you found yourself standing in front of hybe & hearth.
the bell chimed as you stepped inside, the familiar scent of toasted sourdough and brown butter sage wrapping around you.
being here was a form of self-torture, really. you were supposed to be clearing your head, but instead, you were retracing your steps, looking for the ghost of a man who was currently just a single, clinical text message on your phone.
you missed him. the realization hit you harder than the caffeine. you missed the way he looked at you before things got complicated.
you sat down at a small table near the window, staring out at the street. you pulled your phone out again, rereading his text.
drink some water. don't forget to eat lunch.
you opened the chat, your thumb hovering over the keyboard.
“i’m at hybe & hearth,” you typed. then you quickly delete it.
the menu at hybe & hearth was familiar, but your eyes landed on only one thing. you ordered the risotto.
you sat at a table near the glass-walled kitchen, picking at your napkin, your mind still half-buried in the distribution contracts you’d left on your desk.
when the plate finally arrived, you didn't look up at first. "thank you," you muttered, reaching for your fork.
"you’re welcome, princess."
your head snapped up. jake was standing there. he was looking at you—dark, intense, and completely focused. the air in the restaurant feels ten degrees hotter.
without asking, he pulled out the chair opposite you and sat down.
"eat," he said softly. "you look like you haven't slept."
you took a bite, the creamy, rich flavors of the risotto hitting your tongue. it was perfect. better than perfect. the silence between you stretched, no longer awkward but heavy with everything you hadn't said earlier.
jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze dropping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "well? anything you want to compliment to the chef?"
a spark of your old fire returned, fueled by the sheer audacity of him sitting there. you leaned in too, your voice dropping to a low, teasing hum.
"i'd say to kiss the chef. but maybe,” you whispered, holding his gaze. "with a dish this good…i could fuck the chef."
jake’s expression didn't change, but his eyes darkened until they were almost black. He didn't laugh. he didn't tease back. he just stood up, reached across the table, and gripped your wrist, not hard, but with a firm, possessive grip.
"follow me," he rasped.
***
you threw your head back against the brick wall of the alley as jake's tongue was already working against you with a desperate, heavy heat. his hands were on your hips, bunching your pencil skirt upward.
jake began to suck at your clit with a deep, rhythmic pressure that made your knees buckle. you let out a jagged gasp, your fingers clawing at his hair. "jake—please—"
"please what, princess?" he murmured, shifting to lick you in long, agonizingly wet strokes that traveled from your peak to the very opening of your core. he hummed against you, the vibration sending a localized fire straight to your nerves. "tell me exactly what you want."
"don't stop... please, jake," you sobbed, your fingers tightening in his hair.
before you could form a coherent word, the pressure in your core snapped. you shuddered against the wall, a thick, viscous release rolling through you as jake drank you in.
jake growled through your folds, the vibration thrumming right through your nerves. his tongue moving in fast, hard circles. you were losing control, your body taking over as you began to ride his face, your hips jerking and grinding against his mouth to get more of the friction. you needed him to keep sucking, licking, until the ache in your stomach finally broke.
when the release hit, it was a violent, shuddering wave. you cried out into the empty alley, your body convulsing against his mouth as he drank you in, refusing to let go until your last shiver died down.
jake stood and unzipped his pants. once his dick was out, he hiked your legs up around his waist.
he entered you in one deep, both of you staggering thrust that made you both gasp for air.
your body recognized him instantly. you loved that smooth, velvet slide.
jake groaned into your neck, his muscles relaxing even as his heart hammered against yours. he was just as addicted to this intimacy as you were.
"god, you're so warm," jake groaned into the crook of your neck. his voice a ragged, broken version of its usual calm. he didn't wait for you to adjust; he immediately found a heavy, punishing rhythm, pinning your back into the brick with every driving motion.
you were losing your mind. the combination of the aftershocks from his mouth and the sudden, stretching fullness of him was too much. you tried to stifle a moan, terrified of the kitchen door just feet away, but the pleasure was too sharp. a loud, broken sound escaped you, and jake’s reaction was instantaneous.
"shhh," he commanded, his voice a rough growl as he leaned in to swallow your cries with a bruising, possessive kiss.
he didn't stop until the weight of the morning was replaced by the heavy, rhythmic thud of your heartbeats together. in the shadow of the alley, you and jake were starting to fix what you thought would be broken. and the thought sparked something in your chest.
"fuck," he groaned into the crook of your neck, his breath hitching as he found a punishing, heavy rhythm. "you’re so tight... were you thinking about me all morning at that desk? is that why you're like this?"
every thrust was a blunt collision, pinning you harder against the brick. jake crashed his mouth against yours, a bruising, possessive kiss that swallowed your cries. as he continued to drive into you, he pulled back just an inch, his lips ghosting over yours. "Look at me. tell me who you belong to."
you couldn't speak, you could only cling to him until you gelt jake slowed down his moves and that made you whine.
“answer my question, princess.”
"i—i’m yours," you finally choked out, the words feeling heavy and honest in the humid air of the alley. "always yours, jake."
the moment the words left your lips, jake didn't wait. he let out a low, satisfied growl and slammed back into you, his pace doubling as he took exactly what you just offered. every thrust was deeper now, more desperate, as if he were trying to drive those words into your very skin.
"good girl," he rasped, his voice cracking with the strain. jake buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "don’t you ever forget it."
you were spinning, the friction of his velvet heat against your core becoming an unbearable, beautiful pressure. you could feel the climax building again, thicker and more violent than the one before. "jake—i’m... i’m going to—"
"i know," he groaned, his own movements becoming frantic, his breath coming in hot, ragged bursts against your ear. "cum for me. right now."
the release hit you like a physical shock, your body tightening and pulsing around him in heavy, rhythmic waves. just as you peaked, jake let out a low, guttural cry, his entire body shuddering as he came, filling you with a heat that made your toes curl.
for a long minute, neither of you moved. the only sound in the narrow alley was the heavy, synchronized thud of your heartbeats and your shared, desperate gasps for air. jake didn’t pull away. instead, he collapsed his weight against you, his arms wrapping around you so tightly it was almost hard to breathe. he tucked his head into the crook of your shoulder, his fingers digging into your waist as if he were trying to anchor himself to you.
you clung back just as hard, your hands tangled in the damp hair at the nape of his neck. in the silence of the aftermath, the weight of the fight was gone, replaced by a deep, aching comfort.
you didn't want to let go. you didn't want to go back to your laptop, the technical files, or the toxic glares of the office.
"i missed you," he whispered, so low you almost didn't hear it over the hum of the nearby kitchen vent. "i hated every second of that silence today."
"i missed you too," you breathed, closing your eyes and savoring the simple, solid reality of his body against yours. in this hidden, shadowed space, the world was finally quiet. you were fixed. and the thought of letting go felt like losing your only source of gravity.
***
the walk back to the office was a blur of fading adrenaline. you scrubbed at your face in the lobby mirror, desperately trying to hide the flush on your neck and the way your pupils were still dilated. when you stepped off the elevator, the cold, air-conditioned chill felt like a physical blow.
you walked toward your cubicle, eyes fixed on your shoes, hoping to slide into your seat unnoticed. instead, you found chaewon leaning against your desk, a bright, helpful smile on her face that made your stomach drop.
"y/n, there you are!” she chirped, her voice bubbly and loud enough to make the coworkers in the next row look up.
"you were gone for so long, i was starting to get worried!
"i just needed some air, chaewon," you muttered, keeping your eyes on your monitor.
"i bet! you look like you got some really good air," she teased, leaning over your desk. she reached out to flick a speck of dust off your blazer, but her hand stopped near your collar. "you've got a little... bruise, right there."
you froze, your hand flying up to cover your neck as the heat rushed to your cheeks. the look on chaewon's face told you exactly what she saw.
"who’s the lucky guy?" she whispered, her voice dropping into a fake-confidential tone that set your teeth on edge.
"you have that look. you know, the glow? your lipstick is a little smudged, too—don't worry, i won't tell! but seriously, is it someone i know? is he cute?"
"it’s nothing like that, chaewon. i'm just stressed," you muttered, opening a spreadsheet to look busy.
"oh, come on! 6ou can tell me," she persisted, leaning her chin on her hand and staring at you with genuine, annoying interest. "i’m just so happy for you! if it's a secret, my lips are sealed!”
she winked, taking a slow sip of her coffee while her eyes continued to scan your disheveled hair and wrinkled blazer. "just a tip, though—next time, check the back of your hair. it’s a bit...windblown,” she winks. “but hey, it’s very secret romance protagonist.'”
***
the elevator opened directly into jake’s penthouse. then, you found him in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he plated dinner.
"you look exhausted," he murmured, pulling out a chair for you. "sit. eat."
dinner was perfect—a rich, savory steak that felt like a hug for your nervous system. for an hour, the office didn't exist. you caught him up on the small things, and he listened with an intensity that made you feel like the only person in the world. but as you moved to the sofa with the glass of wine on your hand, the conversation drifted back to the mountain of files mr. davidson had dumped on your desk right before 5:00 PM.
"he's pushing you too hard," jake said, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.
"it's just the season," you tried to excuse it, but your voice trailed off as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. "i can handle it."
"you shouldn't have to," he whispered.
jake devoured your mouth, his kiss deep and hungry, tasting of the wine you were still sipping. tou let out a soft gasp against his lips, your hand trembling as you carefully set the glass down on the coffee table before you could spill a drop. the moment your fingers were free, you tangled them into his dark hair, pulling him closer as the heat between you flared.
he pushed you down onto the soft, deep cushions of his oversized sofa. jake stripped your clothes off, his eyes never leaving yours.
jake took his time, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand while the other traveled slowly over your body. He tasted every inch of your neck and shoulders, his tongue heavy and warm. when he moved down, he spent a long time between your thighs, using his mouth to make you lose your mind all over again. you arched your back, your fingers digging into the cushions as you felt that familiar ache build up in your stomach.
he didn’t stop at just his tongue. while jake swirled his mouth against your clit in those fast, hard circles you loved, he slid two fingers deep inside you. the sudden fullness made you cry out, your hips jerking upward to meet the pressure. he began a rhythmic, curling motion inside you, finding the exact spot that made your breath hitch.
jake started taking turns: first he uses his mouth until you were sobbing his name, then just his fingers, pushing deeper and faster until you were soaking wet. then, he used them both at the same time. the sensation of at your core and the heavy, rhythmic stretching inside was too much. you were convulsing, your entire body wound tight like a spring, right on the edge of snapping.
when you couldn't take the teasing anymore, you pulled at his shoulders. "jake, please... now."
without hesitation, jake stripped out of his own clothes and moved over you.
jake’s eyes were dark, tracking every shift of your expression as he positioned himself. he paused for a heartbeat, the tip of him brushing against you, teasing one last time.
“you're so ready for me,' he rasped, his voice thick with a mix of pride and hunger. jake reached down to guide himself then enters into you in one slow, deliberate slide. you let out a long, shaky breath, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist to pull him even deeper.
the rhythm was steady and heavy. in the quiet of the penthouse, the only sounds were the wet friction of your bodies and the way your breath hitched every time he hit that specific spot. jake kept his eyes locked on yours the whole time, his hands cupping your face to keep you focused on him.
but as the heat climbed, he reached down to grip your waist firmly as he sat up, bringing you with him. you let out a small, surprised gasp as he settled back against the sofa cushions, guiding you to straddle him.
jake didn't let go of your hips. instead, his fingers dug in slightly, guiding your movements as you began to slide against him. he watched you with a raw, intense hunger, his head tilted back as he watched the way your body moved for him.
"just like that," he groaned, his hands moving from your hips to your thighs, helping you find a rhythm that hit exactly where you needed it.
you leaned forward, resting your palms on his chest, feeling his heart hammering against his ribs. every time you dropped down, he met you with a sharp, upward thrust that made your vision blur. he was guiding you, pushing you to go faster, his breath coming in ragged bursts as you took everything he had to give.
as jake began to move faster, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent, the sensation became overwhelming. you were so aroused that you couldn't stay upright anymore. your head fell back and your spine arched, your body finally laying down flat.
jake instantly took the chance to pin your legs back, moving his hips into you with even more depth and force now that you were open to him. you met him move for move, your hips grinding against his as the pleasure peaked. the feeling was so sharp and constant that you couldn't help but cry out, the sound of your own pleasure echoing in the quiet room. when the release finally hit, it felt like a total collapse. you clung to him, your voice muffled against his shoulder, as he followed you over the edge, his body tensing with the force of it.
as you lay against his chest, tracing the muscles of his arm, the silence was heavy and comfortable. jake was quiet for a long time, his fingers idly playing with your hair.
"he called you back in three times today," jake said suddenly, his voice a low, vibrating rumble in the dark.
"i know," you sighed, closing your eyes. "he’s just... he likes the power."
you felt jake’s body stiffen slightly. he didn't laugh. instead, he gripped your waist a little tighter, pulling you flush against him.
"i thought about it today," jake muttered, his tone flat and chillingly serious. "about what it would feel like to walk into that office and put his head through that glass desk of his. just to see the look on his face when he realizes he can’t touch you anymore."
you pulled back slightly to look at him. "jake..."
"i’m not kidding, princess," he said, his dark eyes meeting yours. "every time i see you talk about walking back into that building looking drained because of him. one of these days, he’s going to push you too far, and i’m not going to be responsible for what i do to him."
“nobody can hurt the ones i love.”
he kissed your forehead, his touch softening, but the weight of his words remained. he wasn't just your lover. he was your protector. he’d do anything to keep the world from bruising you any further.
it wasn’t just the way he looked at you when you were naked, or the way he took his time with your body on the sofa. it was the way he noticed the small things—the tension in your shoulders when you mentioned a deadline, the way your voice went flat when you spoke about mr. davidson, and the "frayed" look in your eyes that everyone else in the office ignored.
while the rest of the world looked at you and saw a replaceable face in the crowd who could be pushed—jake looked at you and saw something precious that needed to be guarded. he was the only one who seemed to understand you. whether it was by pulling you into a quiet alley to give you a moment of escape, or by holding you in the middle of the night and promising to break anyone who hurt you, he was your shield.
he was the person where you didn't have to be productive or perfect. you just had to be his. knowing that he was willing to throw away his own professional distance just to stand up for you gave you a sense of safety you hadn't felt in years. you knew, without a doubt, that if you ever truly fell, he wouldn't just be there to catch you—he’d be there to destroy whatever it was that pushed you.
