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.”