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.